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"irresolution" poems
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come. It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
Patrick Henry: Liberty or death
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come. It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
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You are hard to put into words. You leave me speechless at times, but the again, occasionally, I have the daring urge to scream so loud at you that spittle flies. More often than not though, I just want to scream at myself. The night sky and the stars and the moon question me. Irresolution creeps to the basement of my soul, snapping the homemade defenses in two. Bile and tears climb my throat as shadow and trepidation crawl into my head. Hidden secrets fester along with the feeling of emptiness. That void eats positivity like a tiger eats deer: stalking resolutely, followed by a pounce, and then teeth shredding everything to little bits. The stars cry out for answers, while the sky demands too much in order to maintain my sanity, and the moon just gazes inquisitively, wondering what darkness brought me to my knees. Bright colors wash out in the moonlight while indecision clouds my perception. Misunderstanding loops around all of my decisions; death to all right-doing.
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Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 4:25 AM UTC
The Only Difference Is I Still Love You
I miss you like the day you left, with tears in my eyes, forming angry rivers of deep seeded sorrow and jealousy that I wanted to drown in. We never said I love you, But we could feel it trembling behind our lips with our last kiss. Goodbye was painful enough without the dagger of truth cutting into our chests. When we found that one way ticket my heart dropped like a pin in a silent room. You were stoic like the Mona Lisa, determined in your lack of discontentment while I sobbed you away. The worst of it was in the the future of irresolution. I would never know if you’d come to love the world more than me. I would never know if I wasn’t Home for you, anymore. I would never know, if I waited long enough, steadfast in my domesticated loyalty. I’d sit, like an old dog, on your tacky foyer welcome rug, waiting to tell you that I’ve not forgotten. And if you never came back here I’d still miss you like the day you left. I had to tell myself that it didn’t make sense to count days, or months, or years, if it came to it, because even as my Sun rises, and your Moon also does, we still think of that bed that we’d fall in and out of.
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Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 5:09 AM UTC
12,000 Miles
delaying until the time is perfect its not worth investing now until all is Done up right stalling because the Task is too Large I need to make sure I grasp all that IT entails Time skipping around me, mocking as I lay here waiting while my skin turns to dust silence yet my mind's still entertaining options that keep appearing as Ladders lacking rungs uncertain to Which do I Commit for once my name is Signed I cannot look back rumbling my stomach is caught in the middle there's a tug of war in my head And I look away Again emptiness until I choose to decide the path that only becomes clearer as it moves further away heavy the feeling on my chest as I close my eyes and ponder Where do I go from here bursting this dam inside me Rocking irresolution tears the fabric of my responsibility Conviction the key that halts the turmoil as the dust around me settles and I Rise unchained, Free
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Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 10:57 PM UTC
Decisions
Volitional Cageling, Lightling Amber agony of in prisming Show me a way, then from the baseless lines from my binding fears through the blinding menisci of my tears Take me a way from this tangle of yield, from irresolution, dewhipped web of timid hesitation... How does one escape from "rationalessness" How does one escape from this cocoon of "here"
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
Volitional Cageling
In California the sun is just a part of your skin Melts your layers Filling you captive pushing you complacent You’ll wake in September with a sunburn and gold glossy eyes And when autumn's near, you realize You got caught up in her like leaves in a gutter Let her deal every poison you named let her feed you, full bellied But baby, you’re no better than me I lost my breath somewhere between the peaches and the hair on my arms blonde, and bleached by the sun Seems I've been reaching up to God to often In case you were wondering (which i know you weren’t) I'm burying myself again In a cold, in a tropical winter To avoid watching others die avoid watching my own irresolution To avoid the the heat of summer I feel playing fast forward on my muscles We’re tired We’re all so tired
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Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 2:34 AM UTC
In Sun like Poison,
Me, yes me! I am the answers, To all my irresolution. Solving the puzzle, Around my girdle, Only the person, taking me pinnacle May be the factors, can influence But only me, can be the moderator.
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Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 1:33 PM UTC
Faith