Pride Poems
The Female Of The Species
by Rudyard Kipling
When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail,
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When Nag, the wayside cobra, hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can,
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail -
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
......
Mulga Bill's Bicycle
by Banjo Paterson
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything, as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
......
The Weaver
by Anonymous Works
My life is but a weaving, between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.
Ofttimes he weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.
Not till the loom is silent, and the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reasons why
The dark threads are as needful in the skillful weaver's hand
As threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares,
......
Poem 6
by Edmund Spenser
My loue is now awake out of her dreame,
and her fayre eyes like stars that dimmed were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now ye damzels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight,
But first come ye fayre houres which were begot
In loues sweet paradice, of Day and Night,
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot,
And al that euer in this world is fayre
......
A Farewell To America To Mrs. S. W.
by Phillis Wheatley
I.
ADIEU, New-England's smiling meads,
Adieu, the flow'ry plain:
I leave thine op'ning charms, O spring,
And tempt the roaring main.
II.
In vain for me the flow'rets rise,
And boast their gaudy pride,
While here beneath the northern skies
......
What qualities make a 'successful man'.
by Robert Ippaso
What qualities make a ‘successful man’,
Is it the tambor of his voice,
Some lofty goals, a lifelong plan,
A steering hand, his knowing choice.
Can compassion play a part
Or is that interpreted as meekness;
Is it wrong to show a heart
Without labeling it as weakness?
......
A little small world
by Know Unknown
A little small world, is the one that we live in.
It’s a very little small world in the midst of the space.
It’s a little world, with little room.
It’s a small world of impending doom.
But that’s not the tale I wanna tell,
It’s the tale of all that went well.
So strap on your seatbelt, and enjoy the ride,
cause nothing beats history and standing with pride,
for this little small world, that we call our home.
Now they’ve really done it – In Trump’s own words on being impeached
by Robert Ippaso
They said they would do it
And done it they did,
But little they know
They’ve lifted the lid.
The kettle is boiling,
The heat never more,
I’m ready and waiting
To even the score.
......
Tale of Icarus
by Mohammed Irshad Shamsi
In a tango with the sky,
Along the symphony of the wind,
Higher and higher Icarus flew.
In shade of a cloud
Above, swayed by the wind,
Mocking it's impotence, his pride grew.
Defiant Icarus refused to comply.
'Tear through.' The voice of pride maligned.
......
Salt and Wine
by Richard Johnson
I think I’ve sat here pondering long enough
Coaxing my ego through one more day
Some old car with new paint drifts by
Painting the window in a murky spray
A stage of fumbling critics
and young hopefuls prowl behind
I think I will not meet them today
Nor let them wait, I’m not that kind
Let lice and time ravage old corduroy
......
