The Path Of Normality
They say I'm special, they say I'm weird, they call me unique, and yet I cry no tear. For I am on a path, one for all too someday see, a path of normality that will someday be apart of me. But shall I stay this way, am I a monster shall I be, for there are certain parts of me that none shall ever see, the part that is never for anyone to meet. For the real me is strong and my rage is like wheat, thin as a feather, but heavy as a brick, there's only so long until it falls.
For once it does, Oh God curse that day, for torture am me so I keep my mind at bay. At bay for what is never to be … a monster… a human… a resentful me. For I go day by day with what is call "normality", hoping that every day I live, and die as me. For to be someone else is something other than me, other than normal, a monster I fear of thee. For even if I die today I want all to tell and see, how I am on a path of normality to finally find the True Me. Hiding or exposed I don't care of thee, because now I am set right … now I feel flight … and soon I will bask in the glory of seeing them real me, starting with a path of normality.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Related quotes
What is Normality?
What is Normality?
Does anyone know?
Is it living your life
With people you know
Getting married, having kids
And settling into a home
What is Normaility?
Does anyone care?
Does it really matter
If people stare
What does it matter
If some don't agree
What is Normality?
Nothing is Normal
People have there own ways
People have there pet hates
And favourite days
Noones the same
So what's the point in Normality
Really?
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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I Want A Monster To Be My Friend
Some kids just love
To play with dolls
Or put on funny hats
And some make pets
Of birds and fish
And dogs and
Alley cats
That's not the way
I like to play
I'm tired of all these
I need a very
Special friend
Won't you
Help me please?
I want a monster
To be my playmate
I want a monster
To be my friend
I want to get
For my own pet
A real live monster
Who's not pretend
Oh, I want a monster
To be my playmate
We'd soon become
Good friends because
Although they're hairy
And sometimes scary
They have such soft
And furry paws
If I make friends with
A friendly monster
I'd be the best that a
friend could be
I'd let him do
Whatever he wants to
And he'd always
Belong to me
So, if you know a
Nice old monster
If you've a monster
To recommend
Ooh, golly gee
Please send him to me
I just can't wait
Until then!
I want a monster
A real live monster
I want a monster
Send me my monster
I want a monster
A real live monster
I want a monster
Send my monster
I want a monster
A real live monster
I want a monster
To be my friend!
Oh please
Send my monster
Does anybody have
A monster out there
I'll take a
Secondhand monster
He doesn't have
To be new
song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tyranny Normality
The media is the seduction of human desire
(Set their money, set their money, on fire)
If you try to sell me the truth then I know youre a liar
A liar
Its the tyranny of normality
Its the tyranny of normality
Our culture has become complacent and has no desire
(Take back, take back our empire)
And the ethical slaughter of truth needs to be retired
retired
Its the tyranny of normality
Its the tyranny of normality
Its the death of outrage
I want to turn a new page
I mourn the death of our age
The obituarys on the front page
Its the death of outrage
I want to turn a new page
I mourn the death of our age
The obituarys on the front page
Its the death of outrage
I mourn the death of our age
The obituarys on the front page
Its the tyranny of normality
Its the tyranny of normality
Its the tyranny of normality
song performed by by Papa Roach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We have normality. I repeat, we have normality. Anything you still can't cope with is therefore your own problem.
quote by Douglas Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Monster and my baby bee
angry, alone
lies a monster
or so it looks
for there's no one who would know
the hurt inside their act
but even so theres no where to go
only cruel unusual jokes
and agony indeed
weary and in need
to make one leave life happily
finally those will see
the wrath put onto thee
Too greive so tragicaly
they bleed watching
as a family screams
what has gone through
My baby bee?
you see not a monster is thee
but the a monster that became
from reality.
poem by April Swan
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Divergent Faith
A path; continued In time
For self interest
Not of mine, other
This path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
The path in between
Two segments of brain.
Thin, enkindled with light of own.
Difference! The path in between two segments
Knows how to meet with.
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
Drenched late autumn with
Glamorous night & quiet mist
Likely go in for convergence.
Dew laps faith
This dropp of faith
Seems to dark
Dazzling spark.
The path of late autumn
Encircle the wreath of faith
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
Eternal path
An elisium of solemn soul
Who burn with passion.
Time; a narrow passing mate
Although the path live
In the course time.
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
poem by Onon Sarker
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Monster Skank
Chorus:
I want it I need it I'm headed out for something to break
I got it I'm feeling it I'm headed out on a monster skank
My feet are moving faster than my mind can do no thinking
My body's twisting in contortions that weren't meant to be
My head is spinning like a yo-yo that don't know no better
Off to the special place where there is only room for me
Have a little dance with a twist-hear you were hungry-eat a fist
Chorus
My mind paints pictures but I couldn't find no frame to fit it
Only an artist can create what he don't understand
I tried to tell you but you didn't have no time for reason
Off to my special place where only I am in command
What's to skank?-monster skank'n
Aye got something break'n-we've gone monster skank'n
Roses are red-violets are blues-you're uglier than a monkey-you should live
in a zoo
Chorus
Shoot off your mouth don't like what you said-here's my response a boot to
your head
The wise man feels no pressure then he tells you not to worry
Your inspiration hits me like a ton of falling bricks
Lost in a cemetery of forgotten resolutions
Off to my special place where I can break all that you fix
Aye gone monster skank'n-I don't need nobody
I think something's break'n-I've gone monster skank'n
Is it skank? Monster skank
What kind of skank? Monster skank
It's a monster-a scary scary monster!
Aye got something break'n-we gone monster skank'n
It's a monster
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yes, I remember the barbed wire and the guard towers and the machine guns, but they became part of my normal landscape. What would be abnormal in normal times became my normality in camp.
quote by George Takei
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On That Path
I'm on that path,
So was my mother,
I'm on that path,
Just like my brother.
I'm on that path,
I didn't know my father,
I'm on that path,
And i am the master.
I'm on that path,
upon the good, straying from evil.
I'm on that path-
There is no cheating.
I'm on that path,
God knows i need him.
I'm on that path,
and i hope i'm never leaving ;)
the HEARTbraker
poem by Madina Morr
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Death
I see the monster wake up with rage
and we feed
our enemies to it.
Bullets and bombs and guns
answer its call
and even some of us fall under its spell.
The monster blows fire
and havoc and shock everywhere
and some wounded beg for it to come.
The innocent suffer the most
and hope for it to pass by
and I hear woman and babies cry.
I do not die,
but that monster kills something
deep in me
and I will never be free
from the impact
that the monster’s tracts leave.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Father, I Know That All My Life
"My times are in Thy hand." -- Psalm XXXI.15
Father, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to come,
I do not fear to see;
But I ask Thee for a present mind
Intent on pleasing Thee.
I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,
Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathise.
I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do
Or secret thing to know;
I would be treated as a child,
And guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe'er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do
For the Lord on whom I wait.
So I ask Thee for the daily strength,
To none that ask denied,
And a mind to blend with outward life
While keeping at Thy side;
Content to fill a little space,
If Thou be glorified.
And if some things I do not ask,
In my cup of blessing be,
I would have my spirit filled the more
With grateful love to Thee --
More careful -- not to serve Thee much,
But to please Thee perfectly.
There are briers besetting every path,
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer;
But a lowly heart that leans on Thee
Is happy anywhere.
In a service which Thy will appoints,
There are no bonds for me,
For my inmost heart is taught "the truth"
That makes Thy children "free;"
And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
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A Song Of Comfort
"Sleep, weary ones, while ye may --
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
Eugene Field.
Thro' May time blossoms, with whisper low,
The soft wind sang to the dead below:
"Think not with regret on the Springtime's song
And the task ye left while your hands were strong.
The song would have ceased when the Spring was past,
And the task that was joyous be weary at last."
To the winter sky when the nights were long
The tree-tops tossed with a ceaseless song:
"Do ye think with regret on the sunny days
And the path ye left, with its untrod ways?
The sun might sink in a storm cloud's frown
And the path grow rough when the night came down."
In the grey twilight of the autumn eves,
It sighed as it sang through the dying leaves:
"Ye think with regret that the world was bright,
That your path was short and your task was light;
The path, though short, was perhaps the best
And the toil was sweet, that it led to rest."
poem by John McCrae
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Truth Unwanted
I have reached a crossroads
The one path; pursuit of heart
The second path; awaiting the will of fate
The past has proven itself to be at fault
The future yet to be proven
My fate still to be decided
And so the decision over you will be told
Fate itself is written and true in the end
To get there is one's own deciding
Faulty marks thus far had me thinking
To walk a more basic path
Yet now, over you, my heart is choosing it's own path
Fate or not
To be chosen; journeying alone, awaiting fate and hoping
the heavens share a name with thee,
or; ask your hand in mine and walk the thin line between
fate and destiny; to see if my heart only cheats my soul
poem by Sean Quinlan
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Pillow Monster Magically Transforms
Pillow Monster magically gets so big
he has magical powers, he never worked out in the gym.
Pillow Monster now has sweet memories,
memories of the Krendoll characters so sweet.
Pillow Monster can't figure out why he feels so happy inside,
he now has a colorful outfit with a bigger tie,
Pillow Monster is so happy he has a new magical life.
Transformed Pillow Monster is what the neighbors think,
they see Pillow Monster so happy to be alive,
Pillow Monster is so happy for he can't deny,
Pillow Monster gets so big, tears came to his eyes.
Pillow Monster gets bigger and bigger; but he makes it outside
Outside to see the sunshine, he is no longer inside.
Then it rains and makes a lot of mud,
Pillow Monster doesn't mind if he gets stuck.
Stuck in the mud goes Pillow Monster Toe,
then his friend Hamburger Helper Hand—
helps him because he understands…
how excited Pillow Monster is to get so Big…
big like the biggest Pillow Monster that had magically grown,
Magical like Pinocchio's very Long nose.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Pillow Monster Magically Transforms
Pillow Monster magically gets so big
he has magical powers, he never worked out in the gym.
Pillow Monster now has sweet memories,
memories of the Krendoll characters so sweet.
Pillow Monster can't figure out why he feels so happy inside,
he now has a colorful outfit with a bigger tie,
Pillow Monster is so happy he has a new magical life.
Transformed Pillow Monster is what the neighbors think,
they see Pillow Monster so happy to be alive,
Pillow Monster is so happy for he can't deny,
Pillow Monster gets so big, tears came to his eyes.
Pillow Monster gets bigger and bigger; but he makes it outside
Outside to see the sunshine, he is no longer inside.
Then it rains and makes a lot of mud,
Pillow Monster doesn't mind if he gets stuck.
Stuck in the mud goes Pillow Monster Toe,
then his friend Hamburger Helper Hand—
helps him because he understands
how excited Pillow Monster is to get so Big…
big like the biggest Pillow Monster that had magically grown,
Magical like Pinocchio's very Long nose.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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St. James's Day
Sit down and take thy fill of joy
At God's right hand, a bidden guest,
Drink of the cup that cannot cloy,
Eat of the bread that cannot waste.
O great Apostle! rightly now
Thou readest all thy Saviour meant,
What time His grave yet gentle brow
In sweet reproof on thee was bent.
"Seek ye to sit enthroned by me?
Alas! ye know not what ye ask,
The first in shame and agony,
The lowest in the meanest task -
This can ye be? and came ye drink
The cup that I in tears must steep,
Nor from the 'whelming waters shrink
That o'er Me roll so dark and deep?"
"We can--Thine are we, dearest Lord,
In glory and in agony,
To do and suffer all Thy word;
Only be Thou for ever nigh." -
"Then be it so--My cup receive,
And of My woes baptismal taste:
But for the crown, that angels weave
For those next Me in glory placed,
"I give it not by partial love;
But in My Father's book are writ
What names on earth shall lowliest prove,
That they in Heaven may highest sit."
Take up the lesson, O my heart;
Thou Lord of meekness, write it there,
Thine own meek self to me impart,
Thy lofty hope, thy lowly prayer.
If ever on the mount with Thee
I seem to soar in vision bright,
With thoughts of coming agony,
Stay Thou the too presumptuous flight:
Gently along the vale of tears
Lead me from Tabor's sunbright steep,
Let me not grudge a few short years
With thee t'ward Heaven to walk and weep:
Too happy, on my silent path,
If now and then allowed, with Thee
Watching some placid holy death,
Thy secret work of love to see;
But, oh! most happy, should Thy call,
Thy welcome call, at last be given -
"Come where thou long hast storeth thy all
Come see thy place prepared in Heaven."
poem by John Keble
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Deludify
'She was apparently healthy.
But how did she die? '
As those question themselves...
While viewing the body of a woman,
Who had been mummified and die...
Over three thousand years ago.
And it would seem to me,
That this woman had died from the death.
Perhaps she was healthy when she lived...
But those questions to me seem so inept.
Like the adsurdities expressed,
By those wishing to leave realities unaddressed.
Even though they are obvious to see...
People wish to heighten their fantasies.
And 'deludify' them,
With pretense and sweetened ignorance.
Note: Deludify? One who deludes an obvious truth,
as it is accepted by conformed 'normality'.
Normality? That which one had before truth deludified it
by the use of deceit! Deceit? Lies told to persuade one's belief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Hope Of My Heart
"Delicta juventutis et ignorantius ejus, quoesumus ne memineris, Domine."
I left, to earth, a little maiden fair,
With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light;
I prayed that God might have her in His care
And sight.
Earth's love was false; her voice, a siren's song;
(Sweet mother-earth was but a lying name)
The path she showed was but the path of wrong
And shame.
"Cast her not out!" I cry. God's kind words come --
"Her future is with Me, as was her past;
It shall be My good will to bring her home
At last."
poem by John McCrae
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The Unattained
A vision beauteous as the morn,
With heavenly eyes and tresses streaming,
Slow glided o'er a field late shorn
Where walked a poet idly dreaming.
He saw her, and joy lit his face.
"Oh, vanish not at human speaking,"
He cried, "thou form of magic grace,
Thou art the poem I am seeking.
"I've sought thee long! I claim thee now---
My thought embodied, living, real."
She shook the tresses from her brow.
"Nay, nay!" she said, "I am ideal.
I am the phantom of desire---
The spirit of all great endeavour,
I am the voice that says, 'Come higher.'
That calls men up and up for ever.
"'Tis not alone the thought supreme
That here upon thy path has risen;
I am the artist's highest dream,
The ray of light he cannot prison.
I am the sweet ecstatic note
Than all glad music gladder, clearer,
That trembles in the singer's throat,
And dies without a human hearer.
"I am the greater, better yield,
That leads and cheers thy farmer neighbour,
For me he bravely tills the field
And whistles gaily at his labour.
Not thou alone, O poet soul,
Dost seek me through an endless morrow,
But to the toiling, hoping whole
I am at once the hope and sorrow.
The spirit of the unattained,
I am to those who seek to name me,
A good desired but never gained.
All shall pursue, but none shall claim me."
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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When is it madness?
When is it madness
An amount of time
What defines normality
And where do I lie
Can the time change
If conditions are met
I don’t wish to be crazy
Must I circumspect
Everything is thoughts
Everywhere is thoughts all day
Where action is desired
Thoughts are always at play
Time is just time
Time can’t change much
Time hasn’t change me
Distance affected us
But what if I were near
Distance is no more
Now we can be again
I always have dreamed forward
We were us for five
Haven’t been for four
I’ve dreamed of you for nine
I’ll dream of you for more
So when is it madness
What is that time
What defines normality
And where do I lie
poem by Mikey Diggs
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