"unbending" poems
XXVIII. TO ATHENA (18 lines)
(ll. 1-16) I begin to sing of Pallas Athene, the glorious
goddess, bright-eyed, inventive, unbending of heart, pure ******
saviour of cities, courageous, Tritogeneia. From his awful head
wise Zeus himself bare her arrayed in warlike arms of flashing
gold, and awe seized all the gods as they gazed. But Athena
sprang quickly from the immortal head and stood before Zeus who
holds the aegis, shaking a sharp spear: great Olympus began to
reel horribly at the might of the bright-eyed goddess, and earth
round about cried fearfully, and the sea was moved and tossed
with dark waves, while foam burst forth suddenly: the bright Son
of Hyperion stopped his swift-footed horses a long while, until
the maiden Pallas Athene had stripped the heavenly armour from
her immortal shoulders. And wise Zeus was glad.
(ll. 17-18) And so hail to you, daughter of Zeus who holds the
aegis! Now I will remember you and another song as well.
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I am he who is strong enough to know when l am weak.
Brave enough to face my fears,
Proud and unbending in honest defeat;
Yet l am who l am.
Humble and gentle in victory
Have pride in myself.
Give respect to others
And see's independence in everyone;
Sure l am who l am.
He who success and fame to gain awaits.
I am who l am,
The legend of the seeker of the chronicles of love in an adventure of love;
To become the legend of love.
I am who l am.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
Mahatma Gandhi
Young visitors in a gallery,
Stood before a portrait of Gandhiji,
Charmed by his toothless smile,
Eyes sparkling through glasses round
And an old watch dangling from his waist,
With his chest bare and a **** cloth
Covering his lean , frail frame.
While they wondered how the good old man
Could shake the mighty British empire
And fight without weapons of destruction,
They were thrilled to behold a vision rare -
The smiling Gandhi emerged from the frame,
Saying that his weapons were invisible,
Yet, they could vanquish the most powerful
Without hatred and shedding no blood!
His loving voice and childlike smile
Combined with an unbending will,
Wielding the power of truth and nonviolence
Could conquer his mighty ruthless foes
And turn them into everloving friends!.
Feeling amazed, the visitors stared
At the Mahatma moving back into the frame;
Begged him to remain and lead them again.
"My countrymen," he said "seem to have forgotten,
" The bloodshed and horror of partition.
"Terrorists and fanatics **** and burn
" And innocent victims feel miserable and forlorn.
"Twice a year, on my 'samaadhi', flowers are strewn,
" While helpless millions struggle and groan.
"In these days of endless greed and senseless crime, "
"Guided missiles and misguided men,
" My words seem to have no relevance,
"Yet, if they listen to their own conscience,
" Give up greed and serve with compassion,
"The India of my dreams will arrive soon."
Sad and surprised, the visitors stared:
Though the figure vanished, his words inspired
And they resolved to follow his noble ways
And strive for the welfare of all mankind.
********* M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India. [email protected]
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 8:16 AM UTC
grandma did steer the family ship
she always liked to be in command
those who questioned her stewardship
were quickly given a reprimand
her seven children always paid heed
to the orders she'd issue out
they were under her unbending reed
her edicts to them ever so stout
throughout her life she got her way
her dictates were well known to all
nothing but nothing was like her sway
everyone heard what she'd call
though she was a woman of authority
family members respected her stewardship
she had a steady hand like the admiralty
who so effectively steered the ship
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC
Give all to love;
Obey thy heart;
Friends, kindred, days,
Estate, good fame,
Plans, credit, and the muse;
Nothing refuse.
'Tis a brave master,
Let it have scope,
Follow it utterly,
Hope beyond hope;
High and more high,
It dives into noon,
With wing unspent,
Untold intent;
But 'tis a god,
Knows its own path,
And the outlets of the sky.
'Tis not for the mean,
It requireth courage stout,
Souls above doubt,
Valor unbending;
Such 'twill reward,
They shall return
More than they were,
And ever ascending.
Leave all for love;—
Yet, hear me, yet,
One word more thy heart behoved,
One pulse more of firm endeavor,
Keep thee to-day,
To-morrow, for ever,
Free as an Arab
Of thy beloved.
Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,
Vague shadow of surmise,
Flits across her ***** young
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free,
Do not thou detain a hem,
Nor the palest rose she flung
From her summer diadem.
Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,
Tho' her parting dims the day,
Stealing grace from all alive,
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.
4.2k
Aye, Vladimir, just before I met thee
I hath been sure I hath loved him-
no matter as queer as it may hath seemed!
Thou knowest not, how much tears I hath shredded
and noticest not, how t'eir vanity made me look dead!
But why-why then didst thou appear-
and wokest within me t'is secret fear-
with understanding in thy eyes,
and with a love t'at is to me so dear.
Why-why t'en thou left me, left me again!
Whenst I got to knowest thou but for a moment,
ah, with not so much of an endearment-
afforded ourselves only t'at streak of lovely,
but still weak of too a bond,
or any pact, of young novelty.
And everything was corrupt
As soon as thou re-released me
into t'ese qualms of insincerity
wherest I am still tossed about, guilty.
And hushed, hushed always,
like a trivial, parallel wind!
As though my dear heart's bathed in sin
and of a soul t'at is so thin
So worthy not of thy soulfulness
and sweet dreams of many happinesses.
Ah, Vladimir! If only thou could knowest
T'is thread of passion thou hath sowed
and how my entirety seekest being loved
By thee, and only by thee, o my rain!
As thou art but king to my sneaky moon
and my very own kingdom of stars
Not him-not him, o t'is I entreat,
albeit his wits hath been but to me so sweet.
Still he be a mistake, ah, a chilly autumn mistake
to me, from whom I didst just turn awake.
Probably thou would hath loved me;
imperishably and blindingly,
until all thy superb charms and wit
t'at wert but tortured and unbending
shalt be left within me lit;
and thus leaving our fiery souls entwined
with winds t'at art even sweeter
yet might be torturously everlasting.
Vladimir, Vladimir, oh my only Vladimir!
Thou altogether belongst with me; here,
so unjustly yet heavenly
And in our hands is cherished
our love, o, so wickedly-but fatefully!
How I longst to be thy lover, dearest-
and be so comely as thy only flower;
which ripens thickly in thy winter
and blooms robustly, in thy summer.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 7:07 AM UTC
Out in the desert there is silence --
The mountains blinding ambivalence
As white as the bones within.
Slipping out the rocks, more rocks
Come the unbending tongues of time, satisfying
The antemortem joy once again.
The sun holds the sky, the whitest wing
The earth holds the rest, all of your thoughts
And the rain.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:43 AM UTC
The bench, made of many things, like support,
From loved ones, or others very close, or hopes,
Of the same, etching into the legs, of this bench.
Strongest metal, I dare to say, composes the legs,
Of this bench, upon which I sit, among other things,
Like the wood, from the strongest oak, that's unbending.
Yes I sit, upon this beautiful piece, of collaboration
Of my family, I admire their dedication, but I dash it,
I apologize, but you see I sadly, must reject it.
This because, what sits upon this bench, is not me,
at least, not entirely or only me, but the visitor,
it's silent, an aura of death surround it, ghastly.
It sits, this bench that used to hold, now folds,
The visitor, quite happily enjoys, the sight
Of falling, I'm falling down, onto ground.
Nowhere, that's where I land, for I have done
the deed, I am no more unfortunately, my regrets,
The visitor, he has claimed victory, and I defeat.
I lay, breathless and unliving, quite ugly,
Not only that, but this beautiful bench, a waste,
My last blunder, I've sparked the fire asunder, Goodbye.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
*You are a fiery cloud of confidence.
An unbending
tree in the midst of a raging storm.
The quintessence of Africa,
The mother of nations,
An embodiment of royalty.
The essence of raw beauty,
You are the heart of Africa,
An undying flame of perfection,
A glint of hope.
You do not wilt under the sun,
Take pride in the pigment of your skin,
The fire in the color of your iris.
An epitome of courage and strength,
You are haven,
Utopia in dystopia.
You are every woman,
The beat of tribal drums.
You are music, poetry, dance, art.
You are a monument, a sculpture made by the Most High.
You are beautiful
You are Africa*
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
High-mindedness, a jealousy for good,
A loving-kindness for the great man's fame,
Dwells here and there with people of no name,
In noisome alley, and in pathless wood:
And where we think the truth least understood,
Oft may be found a "singleness of aim,"
That ought to frighten into hooded shame
A money-mongering, pitiable brood.
How glorious this affection for the cause
Of steadfast genius, toiling gallantly!
What when a stout unbending champion awes
Envy and malice to their native sty?
Unnumbered souls breathe out a still applause,
Proud to behold him in his country's eye.
2.6k
Life is a puzzle
That won't be solved
By the argument of your mind.
It can neither be cracked
In ivory towers
Nor in the parlors of grapevine.
The mystery of life
Crowns the benighted
With a twist of a wand
Leaving the enlightened
To commune with the dark.
At best, it is a glass enclosure
Attuning your moves
Along the belt of blessing
Beneath the shelter of stars
And at its worst,
A dungeon floor
Delineating your lot
In unbending reality
Under the dome of despair.
Exposed to eternal pumping
Of raw information,
Student of life knows
But a speck of curricula
At any given time
The process of life's lessons
Extends well beyond the grave
Not even multiple lifetimes
May suffice to scratch the surface
Let alone discover the core
Yet the student of life
Knows no limit
Goes to village today
And metropolis tomorrow
Mounts a mustang to Shangri-la
Hops on a boat to outland.
Tantamount to the amount of stars
Are pictures of life
Full of synonyms and antonyms
Boding inflections and reflections
Of thought, taste and bearing
In the academy of day-and-night.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
one cannot get down on one's knees
it is apparent that they are unbending
both patellas have gone into a freeze
the discomfort in them is never ending
one's knee joints oft tend to lock tight
it is apparent that they are unbending
their rigidity is becoming a real blight
scrubbing floors is a most painful affair
one's knee joints oft tend to lock tight
these days one's knees are in need of care
arthritis has set in for a rather long stay
scrubbing floors is a most painful affair
one would like the stiffness to go away
there isn't much flexibility in one's legs
arthritis has set in for a rather long stay
oh to have more spring in the knee pegs
there isn't much flexibility in one's legs
one cannot get down on one's knees
both patellas have gone into a freeze
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 4:42 AM UTC
We The People
Sailed the same course
Some willingly
Some by force
We The People
A document to inform
A more perfect Union
To weather any storm
No more kings
No more oppression
No taxation
Without representation
Checks and balances
And the rule of law
Mitigating injustices
Safe harbor for all
The secular trinty
President, Congress, Court
Not one above the other
Veto, fiat, tort
Our common interest
Of defense
With liberty
And justice
Our common tranquility
And general welfare
A union
With resources to share
American rights
And protection
From a despotic government
Or an insurrection
Free to worship my God
Or your God
Freedom to find God
Or deny any God
Open discourse
Speaking my mind
And yours
However unkind
Collective grievances
Peaceably petitioned
We walk together
But never threatened
To bear arms
For our security
Never being forced
To quarter unwillfully
To remain secure
In our sanctuary
Unless presented
With writ of entry
Neither held
Absent habeas corpus
Or loss of property
Unless agreed by us
Or forced to testify
To contradict our own denials
Or brought forward
In duplicitous trials
To face our accuser
In much haste
Represented by counsel
Our peers decide our fate
Not one but twelve
Examining the facts
Brought forward
But only this court acts
Reasonable recompense
For fine or bail
Cruel or unusual retribution
Shall not avail
An enumeration
Merely provides illumination
But within the penumbra
Reveals more freedom
That is self-evident
No list or count
Exists to encumber
Or restriction to surmount
A union has formed
But sacred remains the individual
The tyranny of the majority
Is not permissible
A living breathing document?
Or static words unbending?
Even as we amend
Change never ending
Open to interpretation
If you see a right
But others may disagree
There may be a fight
The spirit of intent
Is there to see
Freedom to choose
Secured by liberty
We The People
A sacred quest
We The People
No more no less
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 10:29 AM UTC
You climbed the hill in agonising pain
Laden with all our sin and shame
You took all our broken, battered pieces
Our shattered, broken hearts released
A crown of thorns placed upon Your forehead
Drop by drop, Your robes stained blood red
The clothes of God as Man in two were torn
By sinners, for them lots were drawn
And You, oh God, our sacrificial lamb
Gave up your life for wretched Man
A wooden sign they nailed upon Your cross
To show the world how you had lost
And then You cried out in love unbending
Thus Your life on earth was ending
There's no power of hell to keep you down
Devil can't keep you from your crown
You rose to show You are not defeated
Kingdom come will be completed.
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
He is the lion strength
He is the Pride of Africa
He is the unbending tree along the ocean waves
He is a different being
He is the African warlord
He is the Affican hero
The African knight
He is a leadership model
He is a piller of the African walls
He is a continental delight
He is Our true Legend
He is the African Legend
He is our true hero
Goodnight African papa
Goodnight African Nelson
Goodnight mandela
Sleep well in the bossom of the creator.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC
airport floors are cold
and unbending
the lights never shut off
the same recording
cuts through the music
blaring down the hall
speaking to no one
at three in the morning
airport floors
feel like hell
especially when I know
**** well
that it's only an hour flight
then a forty minute drive
to see you
to see you
with my own
two
eyes
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
She no longer personified the young flower bud,
that she happened upon last summer,
sweet and delicate, swaying carefree in a field of wildflowers.
No-
after all, she had endured heavy rain,
fierce storms, and unrelenting winds from the West.
She was bold in her quest for sunlight,
and had learnt to stand, unbending,
resistant, in the face of adversity;
No-one was more deserving of the petals
that blossomed for all to see.
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 2:35 PM UTC
Aqua veins
Trees of life
Tears and roots
Roots and tears
Trailing down your porcelain face
I trace the life-paths with my finger tips
Watch them drip and drop
Cup them with my palm
Still they drip, but I catch those I can
I want to be your tree of life
Strong and unbending in the wind
Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 3:56 PM UTC
There was a message there for a second
But then state farm came in like a good neighbor and broke my train of thought
And that was beautiful in its’ own right
Like paint mixing to brown
As words only confuse everything
And emotions are like real gods
I bring you to the ends of our own expressible thought
on the edge of a cliff that cannot be crossed
a cliff and an asymptote
that is never perceived
Real Gods are in the pudding,
in relations between lines
in laws given and unbending
objective, quantifiable, and beyond my description
they are in the unending study and toil of the labors of love
a thought
but not in religion
unless you think about it like that
which you are always free to do
because sometimes the only way to show the inexpressibility
of life, nature and all is
is in raptures of revelation
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
I wanna write drunk,
I wanna write high,
I wanna write sideways on Acid
I wanna write dangling upside down, making music with my feet
I wanna write frantic, unbidden declarations of love for a person who doesn't exist yet.
I wanna write poems
I wanna write love, strength, anger, pain, fear, joy and restlessness
I wanna write more than I have ever experienced.
I wanna write without crying.
I wanna write without reference to 'him' 'you' or 'we'
I wanna write better
I wanna write freer
I wanna write words that aren't real
I wanna write lost up a mountain with a girl by my side
I want to fall in love with a lesbian.
I wanna write in green ink.
Slytherin Pride, baby.
I wanna write on the moon.
I want to go there,
actually go there,
and put ink to paper.
I wanna write haphazard with unbending certainty that
today
I can write whatever I want
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:23 AM UTC
We studied sine waves at school,
reassuringly regular,
continuously cyclic,
unendingly, bendingly cool.
Consistent in order and logic.
Then I turned to poetry.
People poems moved my mind,
many rudely peculiar,
some consistently inclined,
unbending or heart rending,
often playing the fool.
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
He walks across the great expanse as if a ghost.
He walks alone and out of place as two by two
the joggers pass and barely glance as if its normal
to behold a ghost. What they don’t see defines
his life, the tortured demon voice inside his head
that taunts and teases all day long and
tells him he “ain’t spit” and “ugly is forever”.
He’d been neglected all his life but now that he’s
become a man he thought the love he sought
would save him from the way it was when he
was young. His problem now is wrapped around
his backward thought that love is his to find and take
instead of his to give and share, if only he had
learned this in his childhood.
He slowly mounts the rail between the ocher beams
on Golden Gate and looks at murky water far below.
His clothes are black, his hair is long and black,
his skin as white as snow. He stands ***** while
looking back to see if one might lend a hand but
no one does. He smiles a smile and turns around and
then as if he’s been cut down he leans, unbending,
and falls.
*A hundred miles away a mother knows her child
is dead. She bows her head in shame and cries,
the why at war with guilt. A part of her is gone,
a part she can’t deny or blame as someone else's fault
instead she hates herself for never having loved the boy,
but even more she hates the hurt. If only she had
fought the urge to drink, if only she had loved him half
as much as that crazy **** she used to smoke, the ****
she called her ‘crystal blue persuasion’. If only she
could turn the hands of time and rearrange the things
that mattered most.*
A flare is dropped to mark the spot where he went in,
the flaming red a beacon on a bay of mother’s tears.
Another soul engulfed in grief is gone, the deed is done.
A crowd is gathered at the rail to point and stare
as boats approach the flare where men with hooks
will pull him out while mother drinks 100 miles away.
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 6:27 PM UTC
cold,
metallic,
unforgiving,
uncaring,
faceless,
emotionless,
all-knowing,
all-seeing,
all-saying,
always silent,
always calm,
never lost,
never going anywhere,
never wondering,
never doubting,
unbending,
undulating,
unrelenting
a mirror,
a wall,
a window,
a door,
a hole,
a plug,
a sword,
a shield,
a dagger,
blood,
heart,
brain,
eyes
iron is
and iron
does
and
iron is-
there,
always.
always…
there.
Feb 2, 2011
Feb 2, 2011 at 2:17 PM UTC
This I Promise You
When asked how I feel,
I know right away.
My feelings are real,
And they will not sway.
I know not of the past,
That has wounded you so,
But time moves fast,
And I want you to know.
The way my heart beats,
When I look in your eyes.
I will not show defeat,
Nor will I disguise.
The words that I say,
Are pure and just.
I promise to stay,
This you can trust.
Your kiss on my lips,
So tender and sweet.
With your hands on my hips,
I begin to feel the heat.
A fever burns deep in my soul,
While light begins to fill the hole.
The darkness and despair that once plagued my mind,
I thought we’d be forever intertwined.
Then you appeared straight out of the blue,
I wish I knew then but I had no clue.
The thought of you is my first of the day,
You turn me away from a world of grey.
I want you to know I’ll always be here,
So please my dear, you have nothing to fear.
When darkness takes root and you hear the thunder,
I won’t let the world turn you asunder.
I promise to be there in the days of joy,
As well as the days that seek to destroy.
The happiness you have that I love to see,
Why can’t the world just let you be?
Your dreams of the future that you hold so dear,
I only wish to help you adhere.
I will not be in the way of the life that you want,
But I will be the one to help you on a jaunt.
I am behind you completely in everything you do,
Even if it means starting anew.
You are worth the world and I hope that you see,
I will do anything to help you be free.
Free of the pain that you wear on your heart,
I will be there if you want a new start.
I promise you that you’ll never be alone,
And I’ll show you more love than you’ve ever known.
I won’t leave or abuse you in any way,
But I’ll spend each moment making your day.
While time is needed to think this through,
I’ll start by saying I bid you adieu.
But before I go there is something you should know,
I won’t try to go.
If you hand me your heart, I’ll cherish it more,
You’re someone special I already adore.
When you dream, I hope you feel wanted,
And start every new day feeling undaunted.
Sweet dreams, my dear, for the night is ending,
Just remember my feelings will always be unbending.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 8:24 AM UTC