"volubly" poems
“But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.”
“To a Child Dancing in the Wind” by William Butler Yeats
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saw this poem on the site,
and it ripped a tear in my warp,
shredded edges rubbing each other,
violently, volubly, saying be wary child,
for what we don’t tell the children well
in advance of their sad discovery
that the world is not the perfection and
that good night moon story world
is not as it purport does if
it really exists,
and I am bitter that all warning asunder,
inutile, wasted, going unbelieved till time
is they must discover in their own pain,
their own sorrow that our world and words,
are imperfect, and that I am sordid saddened
that there is little one can do to protect them,
other than,
speak in a barbarous tongue
*”But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.”*
Yeats
~~~
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4756146/to-a-child-dancing-in-the-wind-by-william-butler-yeats/
Sep 30, 2023
Sep 30, 2023 at 8:32 AM UTC
For ages
Saddled with
Domestic chores
Confined indoors
With a traditional muzzle
Devoid of a voice
With fellow housewives
We were sweltering
Under the class
And gender yoke
Seen weak though
We were strong as a rock.
Things taking
A positive turn,
When people about
Women's potential
Came to learn,
Enjoying a level ground
And expertise,
An outshining
Women farmers
We have begun to enjoy
A handsome return.
After unremitting exertion
In a special way
Drawing attention
Investor we have indeed
Created job opportunities
For numerous in need
On their turn who have
Many mouths to feed.
We members of the fair ***
If not denied a chance
Could outsmart
Many a man, in a given
Task, grappling with his part.
In the Science
And political arena
Ladies that prove brilliant
Must come to the limelight.
In the military
And peacekeeping task
On the athletics track...,
There are also women
Who merit a tap on the back.
Breaking the double yoke
Must be the era's talk
Gender based discrimination
Should no longer pose
In development's wheels
A spoke!
Let this volubly
Resonate from
North to South
And from Beijing
To New York!
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC
Effulgent, she stands in the stands and demands
for her rights that were ripped from her calloused red hands
but calamity falls and hits down like a gavel
and the thread from her dress gets pulled and unraveled.
Her serpentine body, verdant til plucked
from the branches she clings to and prays for good luck.
The hyenas, voracious, yapping volubly
at her ankles while she tries and tries to scream, but
nothing comes out and she feels her bough become friable
she knows that these fiends wont be held liable
dropping contumacious only made her life worse
hit in the face he cursed and then hurt her
she burst in tears, ******
Hoping they’d stop, but they only went further
and nobody heard her.
No superman hiding til he’s plucky enough.
No Samaritan testing to see if he’s got the guts.
Now brittle she’s turned, but only physically;
She’s still adamant inside, strong mentally.
A couple months go by and one day she realizes
she’s not alone alive.
And forced to be together to survive,
she decides to take both of their lives.
I wish I could say
all those men were put away,
but they ran and ran for days.
Gone, and without a sound they stayed.
And now she’s
4.
5.
6 feet underground today.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
https://www.facebook.com/isconnectivityahumanright
well done Mr. Zuckerberg,
but just to colorize your noble intent
with a corollary,
a lump of coal,
for you,
from my colliery,
so too,
is my human right to
disconnect, reject,
if my privacy abused,
not yours to take and trash
my human connectivity far greater value on any scale,
than your smart/good/profit intentions
to expand your product's universe
keep in mind that in my version of the small print,
is writ:
*what's mine is not yours to mine
with reckless disregard,
though you couch your takings
so nicely and legal
my right to live free,
to disconnect,
ever present, and oft considered,
for the gluten of life is in the voice,
the real touch,
not in the adverts
so cleverly engineered, to insert*
regarding Facebook,
I query daily,
is this time spent of true worth,
the wheat, the whole grains of life
too oft lost,
suffocated by the voluminous and volubly trash,
by the unending absorbing waterfall of
"I didn't need to know that"
for now, Mr. Mark,
just
keep this in mind,
one of my social curation skills,
on my settings tab inserted,
is one listed as
nuclear,
a/k/a
bye-bye
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
*dedicated to Robert C. Howard, composer, conductor, musician, poet
and maestro...*
city of confusion and disorientation
exists not in pixels or imagination,
but in full color absurdity
close upon each other,
we hear remotely adjoining living lives thru thin walls,
humanoids of ilk and kith,
yet say nothing volubly lest we
discomfiture confirm each other's existence
there is much sound, noise, confusion,
masquerading to cover an agreed upon
profundity of silence
between every living individual,
even if blood, bed shared
all silently hum the city's song,
perhaps, hoping someone will hear us,
proving us right, or wrong, or extant,
this being not a credo, but a creed
if no one hears us,
no matter,
we hear our own machinery humming,
loud and clear,
for awhile,
it is sufficient
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC