Best Obdurate Poems
Is my fate to go on living in this impervious place
where everyone dons a mask to conceal his face?
I'm floundering in this troubling tenure of time,
in which no one understands the rhythm of rhyme.
I need to search the deepest corners of my mind
for a region where oblivion is no longer defined.
I hunger to locate a habitat where I can be me,
a sanctuary where my inhibitions can be set free.
Mankind has become such an abstract machine,
all walking to the beat of the same tambourine.
Egotistic are those blind to the needs of others.
A depth of indifference that stifles and smothers.
When did it happen, that it became a world of greed
where everyone wants more than they'll ever need?
Bump into me on the street. No one seems to care.
The oblivion in society is greater than I can bear.
I cling to the prospect of a world in which I behold,
a race of benevolent humans, in stories long foretold,
where no disguise is ever worn to conceal a feeling,
and no secrets are kept for embarrassing revealing.
If there is a place where these human qualities exist,
it's an Eden in which I could more than just subsist.
I wish to withdraw from this callous, obdurate place,
to live where people do not behave as a robotic race.
September 23, 2021
"O" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
obdurate, future,
Form:
Rhyme
"Heather"
such a tumultuous quiet discourse
crochet hooked and thinking on wheels,
the wrong turns, sometimes thoughts move
to the recalcitrant one, another tumultuous heart,
mixed feelings like heavy storm clouds move
towards the vociferous missing one,
who looks on from that place in the gut,
intuition, the compass and metronome set,
viewed in the mind's eye, amygdala, from afar
and considers messages passed on
by a lost child, the keeper of a secret to be kept,
the child immovable, concerned for all,
the quiet closed mindedness of it all, hooking loops,
like a missed stitch in time, how one could have assisted,
yet became a back turned, calling in others to turn,
a lost chapter, a forgone conclusion,
the terrible failure of it all
the one writing thinks
of the royal colour, Purple,
and remembers the sister of Heather
laid out like a pale Rose in a silent garden,
risen the Rose remains standing by All, steadfast unseen,
perplexed, yet somehow understanding, watching over,
both stubborn purple bruised stories unfurl
Love arrives on the wings of angels
visiting the obdurate in dreams,
who stay close always though worlds apart,
the ghost remains, day by day
walking next to wheels that turn
of the one seated like a Queen unable to walk,
bloody minded unable to talk, crochet hooked
shifting gears automatic, the ghost guiding
quite hauntingly strange quills like keys far away,
that move hands of time to leave abstract messages on a wall
like music notes scored to be understood and conveyed
LOVE,
despite it all,
moves mountains
covered in Heather
the Royal colour
purple
the envelope opened,
the message relayed,
before a forest
a waiting Rose
and the mind
of a girl
new chapters
new worlds
meet in dreams
far away
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
hmm (forrest); and
ljb, llb
“I am permitted to travel in the corridor between sky and heather"
empathy.
Categories:
obdurate, family, forgiveness, love, muse,
Form:
Narrative
Objurgatory crow lookout
Cawing to obdurate friends
Telling them to flee fall garden
Opossum grins by Persimmon
Because berries gone as are figs
Every animal has eaten fill
Ready now for winter's rest
Excitedly written for:
"Fall Is Around The Corner"
Sponsored by: Carol Brown
*Note
Click on:"About This Poem"
Categories:
obdurate, nature, seasons,
Form:
Acrostic
her obdurate scales no longer silk
(once kaleidoscopic),
worn from tides that led her to a
stagger stone,
she left the ocean to be alone;
unyielding waters wide
parted when she cried-
no ocean could atone
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
pale and barren, she wore nudity
like soft chiffon enveloped in lace-
long auburn hair flowing down to
the lowest part of her soft back,
with waves highlighted from the sun;
for
beauty was worn inside and out-
she knew not why her eyes wept,
nor why she wanted solitude;
she laid upon that stone to be
alone-
for no ocean could atone
September 23, 2019
Line Gauthier
Mermaids Poetry Contest
Categories:
obdurate, fantasy, ocean,
Form:
Verse
Suicidal Love
It chokes and mauls me,
It suffocates me as its venom spread to shake my heart,
It kneads and lives me vulnerable to hurt,
When you hunt it,
I remained obdurate to love,
Its obsession sucks my strength,
When the peril of real epitome of African beauty sprout her,
Chokes and desires of having you drown me into sour guts,
It is a suicide how this eerie feeling fills,
For it freezes not the frosted and fermented heart to freedom
It is suicidal how love is.
Categories:
obdurate, crazy, funny, love, love
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Aye did not heed the maxim be careful
what you wish for,
cuz now adversity not abate
perhaps helpful for thee reader
if this bard ****
did apprise present woe
by turning time machine backdate
asper how the fickle finger
of thine existence didst create,
a more agonizing situation discerning
scythe leant presaging grim reaper date
now welcomed with
opened arms to extricate
fools paradise by twist,
and shout of cruel fate
e'en locked up in a damp, dank,
and dark dungeon more grate
full, than full blown wraith zing hate
now lemme summarize
woe of this ingrate
where reprieve of death,
would be to good for me to jubilate
perhaps immolation, thence
at the stake burnt offerings
presented to the
"FAKE" trumpeting khanate
hence complete annihilation
the only way to liberate
a guilty conscious weighted down
by Sisyphean sized mill stones
now whit tis time mate
to acknowledge, and try to numerate
whereat one issue found me
reneging and being obdurate
on reimbursing me youngest daughter,
who could not pontificate
why she needed to fork
over monies in relation
to overpayment re
guarding social security,
essentially incumbent on me
on me eek quate
ting to a sizable tidy sum,
finding yours truly i rate
yet refund check she sent
over a year ago, and spate
of anger (born by eldest lass)
unforgivable egregious stonewalling
do to procrastination trait
this papa (rightfully my responsibility)
objects to bearing
brunt of arithmetical error
plus my own meager
very limited fiduciary reserves
induces anxiety to undulate
thus becoming fancy free
and foot loose bachelor
appears as emotionally
cannibalistic (ready
to jump off a bridge)
to shuck off this unbearable weight.
Categories:
obdurate, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Metrical Tale
Wisdom wild wavering wyrd, wonder of winsome ways
Ostentatiously opportunistic, Orpheus oneiric orchid,
Marvelously mystical mirth maker making man amaze
Ardently argumentative, and artistic accenter; avid
Nymph. Naturally nurturing nostalgic nidulation days
How do I praise the sweet excess in you, the grace
Oozing milk of kindness, compassion that bore me
Obdurate beauty more profound than the pretty face?
Dance dear dreamer devoid of drums drizzled memory.
Categories:
obdurate, tribute,
Form:
Acrostic
I don't know if I'll be back this time.
Time enraptures me,
Seduces me into places I know for too
long.
A million faces but they'll never feel like
home,
I got too close to the stone,
Heard marvelous stories
And wept when it ended,
And shared myself, do you hear me?
I lended.
I love you yet I must go,
The past is obdurate no matter how
Adamant you are.
And sometimes, it feels wonderful to say
goodbye,
To people,
Places,
Time,
New adventures forever on the horizon,
New suns to set on me,
And a million faces that'll tell me to go
home,
But I couldn't,
Because I am home.
These songs and stories I hear,
The winding alley ways to whom I'll
always hold dear
Because I've never been so close to home.
And I love you,
The million faces, I love them too.
I am home.
Categories:
obdurate, freedom,
Form:
Alliteration
Time passes,
I look in retrospect
on a life petering out.
Memories rack my brain,
there under the pine tree
we stand embraced
in perfect harmony,
our names chiselled
on the tree's trunk,
our love in unison
our passion fulfilled.
Time passes
like the monotonous tick tock
of an old wall clock
rigorous and unrelenting
obdurate and harsh.
Our feelings are chiselled
in a book of love.
Life's a continuum,
like a smooth sand dune
until some heavy breeze
ruffles the surface,
then the calm and back
to the velvety smoothness
of our devotion and love.
Time passes,
steadily and pitiless,
sharing, dividing, consolidating
all that we had construed,
until my last entry is there:
rest in peace my sweet.
Soon we'll be together again
as I wane and wither;
soon our names will be chiselled
on a flat cold stone
soon I'll rest too
forever with my love.
Categories:
obdurate, how i feel, love,
Form:
Free verse
Waking moments with the strong aroma of coffee percolating throughout the house, I arise.
Drifting through the morning mists, I find my way to the kitchen where the hearth-fire
embers, still warm from the night, glow orange in the pre-dawn emptiness. Where are you?
You, who have left your plate upon my table, sticky with basil and fresh eggs? You, who’s
scent upon my skin I wear as the finest perfume, inhaling deeply into my soul, your
remembrance with every breath I take, where are you?
pastel promises
dawn labours rigid skyline
slate sky epitaph
I hurry to open the heavy wooden door, and gaze out as dawn cracks the purple sky and the
smells of spring gust through my doorways, erasing all doubt of what I know. There, fading
in the morning dew, I see your footprints luminescent in crystal light, imprinted upon the
deep green of the forest path. Your tracks are leading away, back from where you came and
where I cannot go, yet. I watch the sun climb the skyline, exposing the stark truth of
daylight, so harsh with it’s radiant glare, that I must turn away. Footprints fading, I
know you are gone, and I return to my cold fire to prepare for another day.
crocus awakens
obdurate rainbow transpires
mocking winter's shroud
Many more will come today, with gifts of food and flowers. I have run out of vases, and
places to leave condolences. Excuses for why I do not accept a visit run as dry as un-shed
tears through barren conversations. I cannot hear, and it is a great strain these
visitors; the daylight hours are too bright, and their apprehension too loud. Forgive me
if I offend, in my knowing of just where I need to be. I did not seek anyone’s advice
anyway. Looking out past worn curtains I watch for the setting. Crows gather on the
budding trees and raise ruckus in their frenzy to reunite. I know you laugh at me, waiting
as I do. I hear you in those black birds. It’s called a “murder of crows” you’d tell me.
I hear you in my mind, just as I always did, and I feel your presence as a warm breeze on
the small of my back, but it is not the same, and never was, you know this.
stark dusk descending
shadows jeer eternity
peremptory fate
Categories:
obdurate, death, depression, introspection, life,
Form:
Haibun
Quiet and listen!!! I ordered myself
Focus and watch!!! My brain coded to my cells
Ponder and wonder!!! Was the obdurate melody of my sense
But no one could evolve a meaning out of these paranormal scenes
I could hear the ambling onomatopoeia performed by the air
I could feel the impetuous rustle it made to dispel
I could smell the pervasive aroma that got me compelled
But my sight was blinded by an unassailable light dispersed
"Am I lost?" was the one question prickling my every concentration
I ran deep into the shadows of a transcendental meditation
The past began to swim in, assisting my mental construction
Finally I remembered... I was a victim of an accidental demolition
Instantly, the air raged and trembled like an avalanche
The light evolved a path like it led me to a destination of no existence
My remembrance was a password that dispelled the intruding play of these disturbance
Then I saw something! Something beyond my resistance
A step I saw; coated with the most precious of gemstones begging for my flight
A door I saw; its beauty greatly undefined, seductively capturing my every sight
This scenery brought me to one conclusion, the one I tried to fight
It was heaven's doorway... What a tragic delight
I gallantly moved towards the door with soldier's steps
Worried on the actuality I was a member of the doleful death
Hoping on the certification that behind the door held no regret
On my strife for the handle, woke up with my seemingly worried parents on a hospital bed
Categories:
obdurate, adventure, depression, me, light,
Form:
Free verse
although a group of people sustain their lives beautifying
everything surrounding them
insisting that everything is good
because they are God’s creation
while another group of people
though they also are humans
swallow and spit out loathsome language
go tottering intoxicated from a foul-smelling-contaminated-air
fuming from the languages they spat out
after there came an erect postured bipedal primate
which was a trifle creature fed by dust wiggling on the earth
for thousands of thousands of long years
eventually they started to share their thoughts
looking in each others’ eyes
cultivating, refining words and phrases for better communication
among those words
were beautifully polished and preserved phrases
thru generation after generations of studies and development
they were exclusively used by a specific class of people who enjoy showing off
and thereby wanted to separate themselves from ordinary people, however, now, the beautiful words and phrases became coarse;
is it because the words were abused by them or
their sleazy tongues stiffened the phrases?
they lost interest in finding the reasonable reasons
because there was no yard-stick to establish a standard;
zombies stalk on the street in bright daylight
the fake brand-name luxurious articles overrun the street
DNA twisted weirdly
all children are born mutated and therefore have evolved
to an overly obdurate species, strange world
there are no family features of daughters like their mother
or sons who resemble their fathers anymore
but only a line of families
like a poorly shaped mosaic landscape made with puzzle pieces
picked-up from alleys and forcefully placed to make a picture
they are never satisfied with what they have
and that’s why if you applaud them they demand more,
if their request is rejected they yell and scream at you
with newly invented swear words
rather, like a dead person
no matter how much you extolled him, doesn’t ask more;
even stamped on to humiliate him, won’t cry or say a word
that’s why God may have kept
everything beautiful beyond men’s reach
that’s why men who live on this side of the world
shout and scream
making everything uglier than it should-be
hanging on to the things they can easily put their hands on
Categories:
obdurate, language, life, men, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
OSAMA
Obdurate Sadistic abductor as Machiavellian now abashed
Senseless Saboteur with Sabre sword,
Ablutions of wickedness as apology from vagrant
Mercy and peace mixed fleetingly against unprovoked America and the innocents
Abomination of true God explained as religion, hatred, wickedness, murders, and Jihad
Bin
Bigots brewing bestial behaviors before innocent kids,
Inoculated ideas of incorrigible iconoclast and unlettered extremist
Namby-pamby in acts of cruelty, yet, not man enough to face the consequence
Laden
Laden, lackluster, laggard, languid, despising better option
Abnormal spiritual schizophrenia and hallucination
Doctrinal heresies and contradictions shaming Islamic scholars
Exposing the fallibility of the questionable renown “Sacred book of blood and wars”
Now convince us again, that you bring Peace, Love or seek the Prince of Peace
Categories:
obdurate, angst, religion, satire, peace,
Form:
Burlesque
Abecedarian poems are also known as alphabetical sequential writings.
Being deviously different and difficult to
Compile, compose and complete. Consequentially combining
Determination and deviant, driven poets devote determined time, and
Exercise extreme etymological enthusiasm
For forging a fitting composition that
Guarantees generous grades, and gracious responses.
Hardly a task for hapless or haphazard hit-and-miss
Inexperienced, indolent authors with illusory intent to
Justify or judge poetry. Justification requires a jury of
Knowledgeable critics, possessed of a knack for keeping
Lyricism and logical, laudable linguistic language in line!
Many Poets, maintain a masterful grasp of their manuscripts.
Narrative is not so noticeable in novices, nondescript, nor
Obscure, opinionated obdurate writers, and
Poor penmanship, periodically proves this point!
Questionable quills quite often quake at
Recording random rational and rhetorical rhymes.
Skill sidesteps them: sends some to settle for success on some other site.
Taking time to tackle and test their knowledge may
Unknowingly, undertake an unrewarding undertaking for
Views vary - very violently and vociferously at times,
When writers, with witticism, warmth and wisdom, waffle to
X rated Xanthippes or
Yield to the yells and yammering of yahoos, yokels and
Zealous zealots! Zesty writing of an alliterative ABeCedarian is zany!
Rhymer. November 16th, 2016.
Categories:
obdurate, fun, words,
Form:
Alliteration
Unprecedented
Capsized dramatic ship-
Obdurate smugglers.
Abdelwaheb Dhaou.
Categories:
obdurate, abuse, adventure, anger, anxiety,
Form:
Haiku