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
Presuming SMILE is life , I Made it a habit to smile all the way I started walking with a smiling face My sudden change brought in varied reaction Some responded with a counter smile Some reciprocated with laughter Some
He resumed walking with the sun propelled in river of fire of blunt red and striking yellow to resonate with the pain of her, who sleeps on the thighs of a temple tree. The vibrations still follow the echo of
I met myself the other day, In the mirror giving me a stare, Asking me questions in despair, Asking me if I really care? I looked away, outta the window, And the world has changed, In my backyard, I see
When I gaze at her eyes A softness fills my heart When my lips touch hers A sense of wonderment We have kissed before Through many lifetimes Her hands in mine Exquisite, so femininely divine Her cheeks blushed rosily Her
A rare bird is he with feathers illuminous red and green; a bird that only few will ever see and perhaps ’twas meant to have been. This bird flies free over mountains and through the mind of a dream; escaping
Absurdity was waylaid like a black swan on the grass shaking a leg. A child walks through me antithetical to scorched life of parallel egos. Austerity was neither present nor absent.Volcanic ash was spewing on recti. It was drifting, the
Did you taste the ejecta after a sacred ritual of exploding a makeshift bomb in a crowded market? I am worried. I am becoming death, curling backward. The wood spirits have started a fire dance. The healing, yes, it comes
On a rainy morning, An aroma of coffee, Is a toast of love, A blended moment, Of the heart and soul. In sorrow or joy, Not dwelling in, Words of war, Enjoying life’s fragrance, With a bouquet of flowers. Sharing
You’ll find her here alone, you’ll find her curled bruises shown. You’ll find that she is broken, words left unspoken, tears like crystal shards. You’ll find that she is insecure and fragile, sometimes hard to handle. You’ll find that she
Old-man-poet! Write from the heart; Reboot the world; make it new again! Turn its white hoary head with a start; Spin a poem of ablative gain! Let ablution be the God-ablated birth; Let it unravel the umbilical whorl That winds
Up here, the indecipherable universe Unfolds into a trillion starry mysteries Spreading light-years above The crowded frequencies of Earth Crackling in the atmosphere Transmitting to ten thousand towers of Babel Scattered across the hills like spores of static And the
I long to be in cahoots with you, It sounds a magical place. More tempting than peril or jeopardy, Less wearying than love or awe. Yes I’d rather be in cahoots with you. Let’s go there and get trouble and
I saw you walking down the road Into the mundane Could I hold you back a little into a diversion a moment of indulgence unpredictably startling smile on your face and a sweet memory that will make the mundane extraordinary..
With fruits and flowers bound There stand the mighty trees Bent with the touch of nature And covered with the beauty of love As when upon a trance summer night You are seen as a green of peace Tall oaks
As we take a break before new year and congratulate ourselves for surviving Christmas and all the cheer. We’ve wrapped all our presents, exchanged them with loved ones, sampled tons of food, drunk lots of wine and beer. Onto New
The wheels find, the track on my body, why do I shiver & tremble? The night gives me the depth, a grim reminder of realism. The consortium of thorns, the splinters float in my eyes. The dignified seizure, takes hold
I do not want to take you, either the road ahead, or lovely gyrations on low stage of voicelessness. The swoop of eagle on a little bundle, of chromatic fever: was it unbirdy? The tree of death grows taller than
She rocks the stage with elan Speaking not much with her clan Music her soul her heart Hands always moving like a work of art Strumming with fourths eighths and sixteenths Counting 1234 in patterns of beats Never a count