"hardiness" poems
Now
Say nay,
Man dry man,
Dry lover mine
The deadrock base and blow the flowered anchor,
Should he, for centre sake, hop in the dust,
Forsake, the fool, the hardiness of anger.
Now
Say nay,
Sir no say,
Death to the yes,
the yes to death, the yesman and the answer,
Should he who split his children with a cure
Have brotherless his sister on the handsaw.
Now
Say nay,
No say sir
Yea the dead stir,
And this, nor this, is shade, the landed crow,
He lying low with ruin in his ear,
The cockrel's tide upcasting from the fire.
Now
Say nay,
So star fall,
So the ball fail,
So solve the mystic sun, the wife of light,
The sun that leaps on petals through a nought,
the come-a-cropper rider of the flower.
Now
Say nay
A fig for
The seal of fire,
Death hairy-heeled and the tapped ghost in wood,
We make me mystic as the arm of air,
The two-a-vein, the ******** and the cloud.
2.3k
Yo soy Guanajuatense
Nacida en una sociedad de Mexicanos
Born in a society of Mexicans were everyone is accepted by who they are
Not trapped as a slave or treated different
The American society can’t be compare to a Mexican society
Los mexicanos somos unicos
tenemos caminos hechos por padres mexicanos
Somo bautisados catholicos
nuestra madre es La Virgen De Guadalupe
la cual Juan Diego vio y lo combertio en un santo
Penjamo is city full of colors visible as the rainbow
Our flag known as the tri color is a important figure in Mexico
green signifies hope, joy, and love
white represents peace and honesty
red stands for hardiness, bravery, strength, and valor
the eagle was found by Aztec people
where they would see an eagle on a cactus eating a snake
Tenochtitlan was founded by Aztec people
Which is now call Mexico City
As we believe the history we also believe what
The bible tells us it’s a precious thing for us Mexicans
We tend to speak with god to find solution to problems
Not all cultures have a belief in god
I also find myself in a world full of pain a contradiction to war
Not knowing whether anything could be done
People are dead here and their
Everywhere there is war
Veniendo de México a un mundo con nuevas reglas
saviendo que tu vida a cambiado y estas evolucrado/a
en una cultura que quisas no aceptes
como dise un dicho
mas vale ser aceptado/a por quien eres que por quien te cres
all cultures judge others by the way they are
but we are all humans and have the right to be who we are
only God could judge
when people say you're brown
I said I’m proud
When they say I’ll never learn English
Look at me know your reading my words
Soy 100% Mexicana
con educacion Americana
pero echa y derecha
con cultura Mexicana
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
I've talked about things before that people consider to be dark
I've never thought of them that way
I guess I would consider them gray
before any other color though
but when I think about beautiful hues, I remember heather
and when I see clouds in the sky
and I scrunch up my face real small while the rain flies
I think it's beautiful weather.
So while everybody puts on their protection:
raincoats and galoshes
umbrellas that sheild washes
I'll put on a cardigan and get covered in shivers
and I'll lay in the middle of the road
and pretend I'm floating in rivers
Goosebumps will be my second layer
They'll make my skin thicker
and the rain will wash the tears off of my face
and nobody will be able to tell that I was crying in the first place
and I'll laugh all boisterously
and hardiness will fill my diaphragm
and I'll scream for no reason at all
I'll scream that I would rather love that I hate how I am
than to hate that I love how I am
I will look at everyone around me
staring at me
arms folded and crunched
hidden under their plastic cape
afraid of being cold
okay with being weak
and reliant on umbrellas for protection;
shadowing faces that are disgruntled and meek
I'll realize they have no idea
how it feels to grow thick skin of goose pimples
and to have agony washed away
and to float in rivers in the road
and to be the only thing in a world of complexity
that is lowly and simple
They probably think that they know how it feels to laugh
because they do it at parties and gatherings
But those are only chuckles
Because they never release their knuckles
They're always clenching them in restraint or force
Everybody should laugh in the rain
and not be afraid of tears in the eyes of the sun
because they'll only get washed away
nobody will know
I promise.
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
She's risen coarse on rusted tracks,
through sandy loam, a summer sheen.
Rainbows are but colour barracks,
fair violet, through verdant green.
Through sandy loam, a summer sheen
sparked exile of Fall's fleeting mist.
Fair violet, through verdant green,
adds tint to sun in pigment grist.
Exile sparked in Fall's fleeting mist,
cleared light, silky ivory.
Adds tint to sun in pigment grist,
silhouette of this noble tree.
Cleared light, silky ivory
are petals cast in modest mould.
Silhouette of this noble tree,
tattered leaves, raging wind unfold.
Petals cast in a modest mould
are magi of summer solstice.
Tattered leaves, raging wind unfold
simply envy of breezy fleece.
Magi of the summer solstice,
Purple blush on sun dipped petals.
Raging envy of breezy fleece,
Scalding wind that scarcely settles.
Purple blush on sun dipped petals
Rainbows are but colour barracks.
Scalding wind that scarcely settles,
she rises coarse on rusted tracks.
Jun 6, 2021
Jun 6, 2021 at 3:47 PM UTC
Envy. Mixed with pride and shaken well, creates the emotion around the endeavor
Taken so forthrightly on, with little hesitation and with adventures pen of promise,
marking an others victory.
Goals. Set so high, but reached with sweat and blood, are the flavor to make adventure live,
No accolades could compare with the knowledge of a triumph well conceived
a job well done.
Adventures pen. It writes of loves lost and things conquered, it tells of determination, hardiness
and desire, In picture painting feelings, it writes of some braver, some willing to accomplish
more than the rest.
Call. It will be best, keep it best, live it the greatest, no other can feel the same feelings or know,
The sacrifices, the hurdles crossed, and no other can remove or,
take away the conquest.
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 10:41 PM UTC
The infernal machines loudly portray their thoughts
When all culminates they taunt me.
Hysterically laughing at my blunders
No machine can make a mistake
Banging at the doors of the psychological house
Of my nature; my brain
The infernal machines, steam spewing; combustion fumes fill the air
Choking only me to my breaking point
The unforgiving hardness of the machines
Touches my skin with severity.
The infernal machines broken…
With no more fumes or steam lay torn;
For machines cannot feel the security of warm blooded touch
Beating; bludgeoning
I weep at the hardiness of their steel in that cold basement in which I dwell.
I smash them with my emotion (now I taunt them)
Watching the deprecation of the beasts’ rusty metal.
But…
With a sputter,
The infernal machines awake,
Building their factory over my rose lilacs
Where you and I once laid.
Those machines of my psyche
No longer allow the good in me
To be released out of this bubble of depression
That consumes me when I am secluded.
But humming below my feet,
Droning on, they heat the floor.
My path always leads back to the machines.
Believing the lies, they whisper to me.
Beckoning my ******* self to the bottom,
of that basement where the floor is no longer,
a grate, but a slab of concrete.
As I approach the stair, a figure stops me,
“Head my warning. What you seek, or feel you should be seeking isn’t there.”
I repressed this.
As I walk, the sound of the machines slowly haunts its way to my ear.
I strain to hear and when I arrive the machines are off.
I sprint through the basement, but it seems they have abandoned me.
In a mad dash, I frantically search for a working machine.
But to my demise have forgotten,
That machines cannot give nor receive warm blooded love,
And for this reason I sit waiting for the next sputter of the evil machines,
For it is all I know.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
Wild hearts will roam
And those I love will leave me behind
But I can't wonder why
Because I have done the same to so many
Running both from and to
I've left the ones who'd otherwise follow
Without a word good-bye
Haste and fool-hardiness carried me far
I'd imagine you're the same
Wordlessly I'll watch you go and smile
Knowing what you never will
You and I are the ruthless, shapeless same
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
Angel's of better through
Myself, to a fascinating yarn
Of what went where, a since of owe...
That collect a share in more, to earn
Callous decision begins the day...
When is a legend of promises and due count?
Of a shadow in the grand scheme of things, say
The utmost of tries and tribulation, within a certainty's pout
Credence to verify a care, the toil of just
The riddance of guarantee, to account a new play
Oft the light of simplicity, but complex in sides of must
That have harrowed a call, a cause of means in altruism's way
Stepping forward, in the name of a treatise vaunted
We spy the court of prodigious example, for a nefarious ghost
My time here, is a walking and silent myth, a risk haunted
For the gain of truer heed, in a wish there is patience for most?
Could a faring wealth of passions decree, be?
Here is the solace of worth I will know, a caring hardiness
Made shall, a redemption to a tow and show of order, to lead
The audacity of a hand of fortune, to the rise of charisma I bless...
With that, the treasure is many and magnificent
Couth in final compare, in the spare and presiding
A wish of summation and its thought to drive, a share meant
With the lips of dignity, that shall continue without airs of denial
At role and delve of omnipotent trust
The tooth of the day, is to hope, is a forth and will of kind?
Long looks and summations hope, is a silence to discuss
Letting ours begin here, with purpose beyond fear, is mercy to mind?
Aug 10, 2023
Aug 10, 2023 at 12:43 PM UTC
Have our Scottish hearts
Shrunk in the fields
Of foreign rule
Are we not greater
Than the fears
****** on us
Have we become mice
That scurry and hide
Only tempted out by cheese
Laid in many traps
Are we content
To live in the shadows
Of our neighbors ambition
I am not saying
Lets bury our minds
And drown in an
Optimistic ignorance
For we are all grown up
And know the risks
Are our abilities so short
And our hearts so weak
That we may be bold
Over so easily
Can we not find the strength
To fill our wobbly knees
Yes we all carry fear
Like all free men
But like William Wallace
We are not defined by our fear
For we stand tall and proud
And our honest hearts
Speak to us of Scottish potential
Much greater than fear
Do we not under estimate ourselves
Have we forgotten our heights and depths
As Scottish potential lies
Imprinted in the skies
By the Scottish highlands
And our emotional depths
And resources remain hidden
Undiscovered in our many
Silent locks scattered
Throughout our land
And is not our toughness with an
Almost stubborn hardiness not found
Abundantly within our heather
While golden eagles glide
A silent over seeing eye
Who breaths a Scottish clarity
For I cry as rich men
Still seek to steal
Our many golden eggs
From the governor of the sky
Our most gracious Golden Eagle
So let all protect
All that is precious in Scotland
And let us cleanse our
Minds in the clear highland air
As we purge our hearts
With Scottish beauty
And release the stags
That will drive out the
Many money lenders
That stifle our being
So let us all join together
As we are bound in the eternal
And not by pen or sword
And as we rediscover ourselves
We find our united voice
Of Scottish freedom
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
live life with enthusiasm destined hardiness due to the harshness
Lacking the right guidance with so many choices we all interpretive heartfelt condolences to the families who have been a incurious
"Should be" as in past tense goes without saying some individuals are not capable to accelerate but we all have those interject with situations enough is enough just make it deploy indiscretion instead of misperception
Questions will not always have a answer to your concerns faith is the only thing we can believe in
You settle for the well-written incentive purpose
This is only the blueprint to or construction build to your desire
Cherish,be grateful, prefer a Just way disaffection those unavoidable dreams.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
i have known the taste of violet; it has
stuck in my molars long after i’ve finished
it has been my wine-stained secret
i have known
the striated forearm and clenched fist
the mirror in the ventricles
and the hardiness of them
the measured beat
beat
beat
i have known the scrapes that even cardboard leaves
with a slip of the hand on its way out
i have known better the scars that mouths leave by association
on the shin, on the skin, on the cortex
have i known anything but
violet
i wonder
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Toward Material Trappings
Gold and silver upholds
true value capitalist money tree
Thrown down upon gaunt
lit alter of Midas,
treasured as current sea
Countless denominations
cashiered legal tender to grant
Rich Midas, who straddles
diamond compound,
billed as sacred Kant
Tickles with dollar signs
motley foolish crue scrambling
towards drawbridge gate
Pedestrians malingering
hungry thirst
for wealth of nations to satiate
Inexorable appetite
for wanton money to amass
Fuels reverence
all that glitters even brass
Whence madding crowd
behaviour cruel and crass
Deplorable if perceived
from one-way looking glass
Fool hardiness to revere
what beast called money,
lucre, and green back
Can buy - sweeping across
World Wide Web
scarring globe on fast track
Toward accumulating
high excess lavish life harried style
parade with pomp
and swiftly tailored circumstances while
Ninety nine percent
of less wealthy live hand to mouth
Envying those billeted
behind sealed mansions
east, west, north and south
Except this dollar less chap,
who could not give a rat’s ****
For ka-ching melodic sound
twenty four seven that does swoosh
In burlap sack clothes
and bank accounts preferring
to slog and push
Along boulevard of broken dreams
that resembles nothing but mush
Yet preference prevails
foregoing attachment
to government sanctioned loot
Freeing mind and body trying
to cherish voluntary simplicity,
which does suit
This quest for knowledge seeking writer,
who disparages
tooting his own horn
Nor imposing personal philosophy
that gives reason exuberantly to exhale
Versus vacuity and purposelessness
sans, blind faith toward Holy Grail
Goading most people to persevere
for millions of bucks over hill and dale
Despite owning next to nothing,
yet detaching psychological
bond that doth choke
Ability to experience unfettered psyche
likened to oxen iron bound yoke!
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 9:21 PM UTC
Reliance brings me to the assurance of psychy:
For me 'hardiness' is even a colourful Garment of my unpleasant days;
Whose each seam is sewn
By the modish touch of mother's gracious hand!
Dec 16, 2017
Dec 16, 2017 at 5:29 AM UTC
Sunlight is such a thin guise
I walk down the street
How can it be sunlight and happy outside?
Beneath my feet I can feel
Lurking around every corner I see it
Shadowy, smooth, silky, slithering
Oh yes it's there alright
People walk around smiling
How can they be happy
Don't they know?
Beneath a picnic bench
Lying in wait, the deep pastel black shadows?
How can it be sunlight and happy outside?
No one ever stops to think,
No ever for a second
This bright bubbly light is a thin mask
To the world's true nature
Beneath the mask there is pure
darkness, cold hardiness without cure
But even in the blackest of nights
Children smiling all seems alright
You can't really see it, no
Or deep in underground
Not a sight not a sound
With no one around
Still you have not seen it
You have not felt it
That “thing” that lies under
Right under the surface
Behind our thinly veiled illusion of reality.
How can it be sunlight and happy outside?
When inside I am heartbroken.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 4:51 AM UTC
First hunting trip in years
Wondering if I have the stamina,
The fortitude to stay in a cabin,
To hunt in the cold,
To find my way in unknown woods...
To use an outhouse.
I have grown accustomed to amenities:
A steady furnace, heated water,
Television, books, phone,
Internet, WiFi, Cable,
A garage,
You.
For a weekend
I decided to try myself,
To test resolve,
To see if there might still remain
A little hardiness.
The long drive took us out of range
Of television,
Most radio,
Cell coverage,
Running tap water,
Toilets with flush handles,
My bidet.
Gas light, wood fire
Illuminated and warmed
Dimly, slowly.
My bed frosted until midnight.
At 1:00 my bladder sent the signal;
I arose, donned boots and coat,
Forayed to the shack outback.
Wind rushing in the tall trees,
Snow crunching beneath me,
Ice on the door,
Dark of night,
Dread without,
Within.
In minutes, business done.
Outside, breeze soughing,
Sighing in tree tops.
Singing ice stopped me
Beneath the stars:
Siren song of resonating ice,
Ice-glazed lake's expansive song
Filling me with wonder.
Cold, I could not linger,
Walked back
To hunker in blankets,
Old and wool,
As the ice-song lingered.
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 10:43 AM UTC