Paradox of the NonConformist

Paradox of the 

Non-Conformist.
+++++++++++++


The Paradox of the
Nonconformist is this:
A non conformist merely
conforms to nonconformity!

Taking an intentional stance
to disagree with every agreeable
cliche, while simultaneously
pretending that he doesn't suffer
from  the same Social Defects.

I realize the Nature of Life's
Riddle. And for this reason I
am overwhelmed by one
contradictive Paradox after
another;...questioning any and all
realities, while considering none
of them to be real because I did
not Dream Them!

(so this makes me a less
Hypocritical Nonconformist
I suppose.)

ah, Absurdity!...sweet absurdity!
That acid sea of Unknown Features
every Mortal Drowns in!  Where
would I be without Absurdity?!

(probably wherever Fate might
have Led me.)

I think if Society's Mass ever
makes it out of Platos Fabled Cave
of Shadows, it will simply replace
one form of Cave for another,
Or run back into the Former Cave
screaming in terror at the wonders
of The Real.

For We are Conditioned to
live a Certain Way, and
anything which threatens
that conditioning is automatically
abandoned out of Fear, or
Disbelief.

Those who DO make it out of
the Cave become Society's Misfits.
They are The Conspiracy Nuts,..
Heretics,..and Damned Souls
doomed to suffer for going against
the traditional grains of Modern
Convention...The naysayers, and
whistle-blowers...Individuals who
See Beyond the Veil so well that things
Beyond the Veil take Shape from
The Nightmares within them.


Alas, We are the Damned!....All of us.
But the Damned are Blessed with
the ability to at least create their
own Damnation. And I for one
feel it's better to be master of
your fate regardless of how bad
it ends, rather than a slave to
the illusions most are governed by.

(since freedom for good or ill
always trumps serving as a Fatalistic
Meat Puppet going through the
predestined motions of it's Design.)

Absurd...isnt it?

J.Stephen.H.

Is there Anyone ever Truly Smiling?

Is there Anyone ever truly smiling?
____________________________

I hold her cold, porcelain hand,..
as a rotten, forced half-grin forms
insecurely by Candle light,..
then ask her why she never smiles.
(or seems surprised.)

How does she stare through me?..
Yet still touch this phantom in my
heart somehow? At times I swear
I can hear her laughing.. at some joke
I'll never figure out! But those lips
(while sweet) don't speak aloud!
(nor have they kissed me then or
now.)

Why?! (I scream) do you ignore
my Amorous Plea?...Is there not
A Soul to see within Me?.. and
will there
ever be an honest moment in which
You produce a genuine Heartbeat?...

Or does my Mind create Love
Chemically?
tell me now my Lovely. (Please!)
_

In absence of any formal response,
I begin folding her delicate fingers
back into their former position.
but,..perhaps a Kiss will bring her back?...
Then I feel warm breath like in my
visions! of Darkness, Rage,
and Candle wax!  Yet... isn't it a
shame.. how every candle ends the
same?!!

(once angel blood puts
out The Flame.)

+

It must be my curse to sit here..
holding this Porcelain Doll..weeping.
Caressing Raven Hair, carefree
and flowing. Hypnotized by such
mindless Beauty that it keeps me
Wondering!


(is there anyone ever
truly smiling?!)

J.Stephen.H

(This one is about a Schizophrenic man who
falls in love with a porcelain mannequin and
tries (in vain) to animate it. It is an expression
of the tortured madness loneliness can create,
within the shattered mind of an individual left
purely to the devices of Hope, and Wanting..