Anthem by cagewench
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Description
*** I've had a nasty migraine most of the day and am not feeling well, so I am posting one of my older poems railing against conformity, though I added 3 verses to it...
The pic is one of some of the employees of a factory that my Mom worked at in the 50s and I tried to partially colourize Mom to show that she was an individual
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Anthem
And all there is, is the song and all there is, is the song the thought reverberates within her skull bouncing against her cranium like a slam-dancing punk
Temples throb eyes grow teary The song is everything it reflects all emotion
Herself, dull eyes visible in the rear-view mirror a pasty-faced shadow incapable of such expression of such pure emotion
The ideal is perfectly-manufactured tailor-made for the masses and some are "transformed" individuals vying to submerge all personality hungry sponges absorbing societal messages
Acceptance is ascension commonality is sublime individuality is dissension original thought is treason self is alone submission equals community theory equals belief superstition equals truth
To belong, sacrifice your soul to belong, assimilate and mirror as unresisting automatons
Clones are the ideal submissive subservient To belong is sublime to exist is to assimilate
a national anthem of trained unity and oppressed souls marching forward into obscurity
shall we remain all-seeing while they blind themselves drowing in fashion magazines and reality TV
silence can be a weapon to their advantage unless we stop them by speaking out by opening our minds by being our unique selves and fighting all obstacles
conformity is the disease individuality is the cure
The pic is one of some of the employees of a factory that my Mom worked at in the 50s and I tried to partially colourize Mom to show that she was an individual
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Anthem
And all there is, is the song and all there is, is the song the thought reverberates within her skull bouncing against her cranium like a slam-dancing punk
Temples throb eyes grow teary The song is everything it reflects all emotion
Herself, dull eyes visible in the rear-view mirror a pasty-faced shadow incapable of such expression of such pure emotion
The ideal is perfectly-manufactured tailor-made for the masses and some are "transformed" individuals vying to submerge all personality hungry sponges absorbing societal messages
Acceptance is ascension commonality is sublime individuality is dissension original thought is treason self is alone submission equals community theory equals belief superstition equals truth
To belong, sacrifice your soul to belong, assimilate and mirror as unresisting automatons
Clones are the ideal submissive subservient To belong is sublime to exist is to assimilate
a national anthem of trained unity and oppressed souls marching forward into obscurity
shall we remain all-seeing while they blind themselves drowing in fashion magazines and reality TV
silence can be a weapon to their advantage unless we stop them by speaking out by opening our minds by being our unique selves and fighting all obstacles
conformity is the disease individuality is the cure
Comments (13)
artgum
The "bastards" only win when you give up your free thought and knowledge. I like your writings, but you sometimes leave me feeling a bit "bleak" about humanity.
cagewench
I'm glad you like what I write - sorry if I leave you feeling bleak, it's probably because I feel bleak...
eternalwytch1
Once more you have taken an awful truth and laid it bare for all to see. Never EVER let anyone deter you from writing the truth from your point of view. I have been berated for being too 'dark' and my response was; 'Then don't read my work, go read Dr. Seuss.' Beautiful work as always babes. HUGZ
netsia
aaaaaaaahhh....a Stepford thing. Sorry you aren't feeling well.
cagewench
eternalwytch1: thank you :) _____ netsia: I can't really say as I've seen neither the original Stepford nor the re-make...
Doodles
Sorry to hear about your migraine. I hope you feel better soon. Great poem, it reminds me of one of my favorite movies, Pleasantville. Especially the picture and the fact that you colorized your mom.
TallPockets
Wonderful written work. Vote. Gee Miss Cara Mae, I guess I don't feel so bad now after reading your above piece, when people call old TallPockets 'different'. WINK.
cagewench
Doodles: I saw "PLeasantville" for the first time this year and I loved it :) ____ TP: Be gald to be different!!!! Embrace your unique self :) But you really didn't need me to tell you that, I know you already know :)
xxxander
I hope feel better soon!! Your poem's really hit right in the gut...and personally I think you did a GREAT job showing your Mama as a individual!! I have NEVER conformed....I have always been "different"...and I pride myself on that..even when it gets me called "freak" and what-not..haha Great writing!
cagewench
Thanks babe! :)
meico
An amazingly detailed and REAL portrait which cannot fail to move the reader. Your mom lives in this ... my congratulations to you. btw - sorry to hear about the migraine, I can empathise with that as I'm a sufferer.
cagewench
thank you :)
avalonfaayre
I have one of those pictures. My Grandmother, though...in an old factory. I don't know why it fascinates me, but it does. Interesting. Reminds me of Bob Segar. "Feel like a number"