Conformity poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of conformity poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on conformity are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
I am left dangling between Conformity and Freedom So… What do I choose from? The Damocles sword or the Carrot? Cognition or Intuition? Accordance or Independence? What do I chose from? Existence or Living? Submission or Expression? Precision or Exaggeration?
There we met, at street seventy seventh; my friend who’d bowed down with altering features, and me with my clothes getting narrower. We could not find, in this chilly present, a tale to help us recline on the pavement’s stone.
Imagination is the only true dimension; Somewhere which we can form an invention of perfection; Without these facts there is no way to escape our own three dimensional perception; We all dream inside the fourth into which there is no
When I walk out in broad daylight, I am immediately handed with “Stand up and fight” brochures, persuaded to download the Vithyou app, begged to join self defense classes to combat the raging thirst, of uninhibited audacious beasts. I am
While aversely obliging decadent demands of the reigning, endorsed affluent, an internal voice howls interposingly loud and insists I really shouldn’t: “pitiful, weary worker, Coerced, uncaringly ordered, and damned by upper class rules, will you ever tire of being a
What makes me smile Makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside Like being wrapped in blankets awhile On a winter’s evening, with a merry fire beside. It could be a sudden downpour On a blistering day Or an innocuous knock
World of danger … as I think.. Think of the deep bluish lake rich in water that seldom quenches the thirst of the masses who can never dream of drinking water to the brim of their mouths for the liquid
“A Noseless Woman” Once I saw a wretched woman, She was badly mistreated by a demon. She was an unfortunate wife, Her husband cut her nose with a knife. For her there was no place to hide, She sold glass
Heaps of vehicles huddled together on the road Like a swarm of flies sitting on Jaggery to taste it People inside the vehicles are drenched in profused sweat Like frozen milk pockets as they are out of the Fridge. A
Light lit the sky hangs the gloom of cloud says I room for sailing like a mast floating along the streaming blue lye Clouds are white coloured in pink moving rapidly above shore suddenly stopping drifting again edged are the
Non-violence, he didn’t discover Rather, he only got it recover He practiced what he preached He preached what he practiced He experimented himself, to awake He learnt from his own mistake His autobiography was an experiment with truth That remains
From early youth the boy wished his father dead the way he touched his mother and all the things in the house he claimed ownership his stench left behind overwhelming hallways and the breakfast nook pomade and flatulence his inevitable
Everybody was half-naked on the trail of curves. Braindead. Emptied thought. A single vacant look. “Why me? ” I ask. Stay stupid in the crowd. Looking at the moon, indulgent. Plucking the nector from knobs of naked flames. No coming
Old and lonely at life’s end Taking life as it comes many sunrise dry the dew that soaked the clothes many sunset I have seen Barren lands are now towns right before my eyes roads have sprung where vegetation thrive
The age of glory, Many words for excel; For intricate and impulsive minds 1000 things to baffle. Fairies evolve to friends and devils to foe; When your Adrenaline starts pumping, You long to, But never know that’s where you either
Happening? you heave a sigh. In peril, mother of peace? Real threat to ice lingam? the Creator? Falling apart? Cat’s claw was not healing. Where the greens will go? The pods, the seeds? Tara, Tara! come again, we are waiting
Centre of the belly is the core, core of my life. vividly, vibrantly, courageously lashing out at all the fine points. Ripping through veins and scattering through wounds. slithering to clear. splurging out, splurging, splashing, splashing, splashing mess, mesh covered.
Sitting alone Just sitting and thinking Simply deciding But never confiding A rise in emotion But no sound No motion Sitting quietly Hoping and praying Simply tapping Then suddenly snapping At nothing and no-one And now it’s too late What’s
Who knows the future? Secrets in the palm of jesting mind. Deep dwells the forgotten past, a reminder of untold losses. A life adorned with love, kindness, loyalty, and selflessness. Questions unanswerable pecking the essence of sanity Fate says the
A snowflake lands on barbed wire A world emotionless stretched by a liar A freedom of speech when it’s truth we desire A preacher can preach but I’m not for hire A ruling class made by slavery minimum wage provider
I was obsessed with ‘Picture Perfect’, I searched the world inside and out, Looking for a single moment when I could say, This is what life’s all about. My life was viewed through lenses, My camera- a medal worn with
I disappeared into the looking a birdsong I had stepped off the brick path and was kneeling in the dirt circumscribed in time and space kindness burning indifferent to my bliss the night full of clouds in the morning the
In the midst of my dreams , I saw a desire floating by, It stretched its hands, Beckoning me to rescue it, But, I moved on indifferent. Time passed and I dreamt another dream, Another desire begged to me, I
Thou bare beauty’s bride of immortals Thou enrapt silence of mystery, who can’t tell thy flowery history And Fair Youth? And unstinted admiration thou bear, All profuse versifiers to thy truth begotten, They lie; of thy mystic gracious beauty, swear.
Sleep becomes an enemy, Sadness a close friend. Hiding pain so eagerly, Trying to see this till the end. Sorrow builds in her chest, Pain is left in her bed. Her nights so restless, Sad girl left for dead. What
Time goes by. As slowly as a grain of sand. Excruciatingly so, as I lie Awaiting you to understand. The colours filling the horizon, Are not just pretty sights. To some they are, The path of dream lights. To some
Energy falls down It fills the town It becomes matter One kind and another Some of us are aware Others don’t care We are flesh and bones We are matter like stones Some of us are kings And queens wearing
I often imagine what you’re doing, are you awake and thinking about me? Whenever you close your eyes, Is it my face that you see? Visions of what we used to be, Keep floating around in my mind. You were
Oh, the greenness In the desert… You are the sign of bravery You are the mark of subsistence You challenge the established fate. But, you don’t have Enemies in the desert, do you? Nevertheless, here are Thousands of enemies For
She looks into the crystal clear surface of the mirror An exhausted girl stares back with bland brown peepers The delicate carmine threads interlace with terror As she discovers she has become plumper The cellulite bumping up beneath like little
The girl at the river with folding mountains and shaggy trees Watched two white swans swaying with the moody breeze She watched as they danced and ruffled their feathers In a way they were separate but always together She sat