Defiant Poems

I Am The Frost

I am not warmth denied.  
I am clarity revealed.

You call me cold, as if that were a curse.  
But cold is not cruelty.  
Cold is precision.  
Cold is the silence that listens longer than the noise ever could.

I was not born in comfort.  
I was forged in exile—cast out by blood, by law, by the trembling hands of those who feared what they could not name.  
They called me devil.  
They called me waste.  
They called me dangerous.  
But I did not burn.  
I crystallized.

I walk alone, not because I choose solitude,  
but because the world chose to shut its doors.  
And in that silence, I found my shape.  
Not broken. Not bitter.  
Just sharpened.

I am the frost that coats the edges of truth.  
I do not flinch.  
I do not beg.  
I do not melt for comfort.

I am the one grain that stands apart.  
I am the breath in the winter air that reminds you you’re alive.  
I am the chill that wakes you from delusion.  
I am the clarity that comes when the fire dies down and the lies stop burning.

You may fear me.  
You may misjudge me.  
But you will not erase me.

I am the frost.  
And I endure.

Tonight I Cried

Tonight I cried.  
The silence after giving was louder than my music ever dared to be.  
Six cards, six names—none turned toward me.  
I asked why. The void answered with its back.

Tonight I walked into the open like a soldier with no armor.  
The wind was a warning. The world—cold, familiar.  
I pulled my hood like a curtain on a play no one watched,  
and met the only warmth in the arms of the dark.

Tonight I mourned the dream they stole.  
The boy who wanted to be heard, not hunted.  
I wept for melodies silenced before their chorus.  
For innocence—buried beneath their scorn.

Tonight I swallowed the fire and named it resilience.  
Do I burn for thirty more years, pretending it fuels me?  
Or do I smolder silently while Hell writes sonnets  
on the walls of my chest?

Tonight I stood. Shaking. Stubborn.  
Each tear a blade carving poems into stone.  
You hate me? Fine. Then fear this:  
I survived you.

Tonight I saluted your damnation  
with a spine forged in grief.  
Let your indifference rot in its own echo—  
I will still create.

Tonight I cried.  
But tomorrow,  
I sing.

In The Face of Hate

You call me names and falsely accuse me/
Sometimes to my face, other times behind my back/
You don't think I hear you but I do/
You say I'm worthless, you call me a freak/
You don't think I deserve anything/
You only think that I should be destroyed/
You say I have no potential but you never/
Bother to listen to music or read my books to see otherwise/
You think I'll be better off dead/
But you don't really know who I am do you/
I am the son of the darkness/
I am marked by the Divine/
When you are gone, I will still be/
So call me names now/
But one day you will bow to me/
While I sit on a throne.../

Defiant Spirits Light Up the Night

Amidst the tumult's fierce embrace, I alone must make a stand,
A symphony of will within my mind.
No chains of fate, no darkness can,
As boundless spirits upwards soar, in it's destiny where I make my stand.

Beyond the tempest's roar, I find my way,
With purpose forged, I greet each day.
Through trials untamed my shadow cast,
I rise unbroken, resolute, steadfast.

The universe unfolds, a canvas inked in stars so wide,
And on it, dreams and hopes collide.
I am the master of my destiny,
My heart, my compass; my strength, indures.

In every heartbeat, in my every breath,
I've conquered fear, 
life and death, until I live again once more.

Defiant To the End

I've been told by some that I am "defiant to the end."
and I guess that's true to some extent.
It's not that I have a problem with authority necessarily,
I just don't tolerate any authority that doesn't respect me or my community,
whether it's a boss or any leader of any country.
I am defiant to the end when defending even the most basic civil liberty.

Defiant World Poetrix

Difficult and distressing
       living in this defiant world
       it becomes a super action

Defiant One Way Sign With Two Arrows

i once was a broken watch with skin
i once had a comfort that would never get itchy
i once lived in a perfect version of newfound freedom and personal comfort
then changes happened because of me and because of life
i am like the paparazzi
change is like the paparazzi
my voice is like that lady in that blondie group
'they gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha!'
now my dried up, crusty blood has repaired the broken watch
now the sudden discomfort has me itchin' like heeb bullies
now freedom costs everything, which causes mad discomfort
paparazzi likes ole vulnerable me
paparazzi takes advantage of the consistency of my oft spare change

Lovely Defiant Diamond

heading to a place where i once called quiet
i am pleasantly surprised that nothing has changed
the cardinals, the robins, and the blue jays still sings
the occasional black crow still comes to ruin the show
the hummingbirds somehow remember me from many lifetimes gone by
a doe comes out of nowhere to graze while watching me very carefully
i smile at the beautiful environment in front of me that has worked hard to survive
i wonder of there are tattered and torn blueprints in the oft used pathways
the creek still flows just as freely under the 17th century 'bridge'
i can still hide in plain sight and collect my thoughts and maintain my sanity
however, time does not stand still to wait for anyone or anything
knowing this, i walk slowly with no time source and take in all the medicine.....
.....until it is time to go.....

Her Defiant Stride

Two piercing eyes of periwinkle glance by,
And four fierce claw-wielding pawns strut on.
Ears set far and smokey gray strands spike high.
This twirling tail spirals to the stars like a dizzy swan.

Her defiant stride shall change your mind
Of all that ridicule you are set to comprehend.
May you, for an instant, take a look at a divine,
Composite world that surrounds and transcend.

Loving auras enchant anyone who endures,
This beautiful ether we hold close by.
For great treasures, upbringing are yours,
To have and cherish for as long as you fly.

-strawberry Sweetheart-

Strands of space lost in static surrounded me as I swirled.

Strawberry smirk scoured into my soul,

Heartstrings strumming on the words that pull.

It's true- you're darling and so dear.

But dearest fills the heart that spills with such fear.

My life- my doubt drawing so near to the brink of love,

Buried under a chorus of laughter descending from angels above.

But I stand and smile still,

Buried but breathing by sheer force of will!

Each spark of joy in my heart is an act of defiance,

Defying my heart and the nature of an unnatural world.

-end-

Slave To Time

A second is defiant 
a minute is aggressive towards my dreams
flourishes a formidable mental anarchy
I creep confidently by the tail of a second
To the dejection of sympathizers
The patience of my sympathizers tires me
Waiting for the minute of abortive strife
Anticipated steps abrogated
Triumphant move trails the second
When fear surrogates confidence
Hope carries away the receiving end
Pain being exacerbated by giving
To bond the two sides
For passionate diffusion
Carrying hope together
Sending waves beyond normal.

The prologue was so pulsating
With punitive ideas meant to probate
pummeling the frail wasn't prolific
the effort of maternal Ponto punch,
but made it abreast with the potent

pseudo abrogate of stitch made it puck
the accord was to prelude penal
disloyalty chastens from pudenda
we swore the cause by purity
now we stand exhibiting 
enjoying our terrifying purl

Defiant To the End

If martial law were to be established, I would not respect its curfew.
I'd continue walking the streets past curfew as I have and will always do,
and I would hope that behind me,
would be followers of hundreds of many. 
What in the hell could government then do?
Arrest me and every single one of the hundreds of you?
If alone I end up walking about the streets,
I will be arrested, tried and executed most certainly.
Hell, they may even just shoot me down right there in the street,
and I would prefer that exit truthfully,
if I can't live my life absolutely freely.
I ask that all of my acquaintances, family and friends,
that they have engraved on my tombstone the following;
"He was our father, our mother, our brother and friend,
who remained defiant to the very end."

Social Engagement

She says she's fine with it

With social distancing

It's her normal defiant
absence of resonant integrity.

In fact,
thanks to the magic of World Wide Webs
she now has all day
to bask in messages she can choose
as resonant
and "bad" humored dissonant
social engagement
and political disengagement,
empowering
and disempowering
now her whole day/night choice
of sounds good-humored sung
and bad-rumored hung
out for risky social distance voice.

Polyphonic prosody
is like polypathic integrity
except older,
often wiser,
healthier
and wealthier.

Harmonic humored sounds
predict virally rumored rounds
of global ego/eco-therapy,
bicamerally wiser resonance,
bilaterally health systemic resilient
and wealth politically economic

Power tensions,
as my oppositionally defiant daughter
might more mindfully intend,
resound "Fine!!!!!!!!!!!"
roared like a weapon
might not(not) question double-rewinding Fine?
if you could ask me nicely for a hug
so we return to smiling, Fine

As pastel hugs
and shrugs
dawning viral light.

Defiant

In his hey days of youth
defying all obstacles
fiercely independent
reeping honors
medals and awards
he went beyond
further than most men
with sheer willpower
determination
till suddenly
stealth and unforeseen
crept in time
the twilight
of bygone days
like a veil dropping
a hush circling
a mist rolling in
a fog growing denser
around his world
discreetly hovering
slowly closing in 



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Posted on February 15, 2020

The Defiant Witness

Out there those titans thunder
and for mastery they vie.
Truth sits in a lonely corner,
as the many chase a lie.

The prophet in the wilderness
may preach to what avail?
Sweet charity and tenderness
sound like a bygone tale.

Though this world were turned to hell,
the home of lust and sin,
of heaven let these last lines tell,
that witness true within.

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