The word tolerance, like every word we explore as a topic, brought a range of perspectives, which we really enjoyed discussing and sharing our personal feelings about. In todays climate, a significant theme was around our tolerance as humans with others. If tolerance is required, what is that saying? Is tolerance kind? One suggestion around the ‘tolerance’ lied in a formula: Judgement + facade = tolerance Then of course there is the concept of intolerances such as body intolerances. Where does it take you? Here is what arrived for us with our poems and our discussion. Next week’s word, ‘blushing’.
Pulling off the highway via a by-way I started looking for an overnight stay The road sign graphic displayed motels ahead Overtired, hungry, I sought a place to rest my head There was a peaceful charming, calming beauty Unfolding before me like a scene in a movie The far of mountains wearing white hats A river running fast through rocky gaps Weeping willows, red river gums Reflecting golden hues of the setting sun Cresting a hill a small town appeared below Dropping down into the valley onto the plateau I couldn’t locate a name for this place My Nat-sav and mobile couldn’t find a trace The side streets had strange unusual names Passive, comply, obey, conform, abstain. A vacancy sign flashing red Was blinking on the left ahead A tinkling bell announced my arrival At last a bed to aid my revival A young boy about six or seven appeared Barely seeing over the counter he peered He asked what sized room did I want He acted as if he was my confidant I wanted to know if his parents might be in He explained it was his job to book me in A pen and a form to sign was provided Perhaps my rudeness was misguided For the boy asked me if I was upset The look on his face I’ll never forget He was curious, open, direct and vulnerable Maybe I’d appeared to be a bit intolerable Before I left with my allotted key I needed an answer to my mystery I demanded to know which name his town went by ‘Tolerance’ he replied with a childish wave of goodbye I entered my unit and as the door lock clicked I was so glad this town wasn’t called conflict.
There has been patience, now tolerance, How many people say they can tolerate this and that?
When raising babies to toddlers, there are nights when sleep Is evaded by crying through teething, colic or any illnesses.
Then comes the temper tantrums, getting into cupboards etc. Better yet through teenage yeas all the testosterone teenager boy girls with attitude Makes life really hard – that’s where tolerance comes in.
Going shopping where little ones once again, sit in trolleys only to be given a phone to play with so Mum can shop in peace.
Where is teaching a child to observe different articles on shelves, looking around at different things and being aware what’s around them?
Tolerance is when people are supposed to keep a distance in supermarkets Only to be pushed aside to reach a product on the shelf no excuse me or anything.
Is there tolerance with the way life is treating us, trying to keep up with all The technology around us.
At the moment, my tolerance is very low, patience was one of my best qualities Now I have to tolerate people phoning 5-6 tomes a day, SPAM callers They ‘d try the patience of a saint.
Oh! For tolerance.
We choose words each week To help us express What they mean to us And others more or less
Tolerance was chosen And feels rather hard Ah well here goes I’m not really a bard
The opposite of tolerance, is often on show It is characterised by signs That we probably know
An eye roll A grimace A grunt A fake smile A throat clear A sweat An expletive What is your style?
To show something That has ground to an end For some it never begins And it often depends
On who The colour The style The gender The appearance The height The background The status and nature
On what The place The service The standard The ambience
It can often be determined By how we are feeling Our inner state or mood Our sense of wellbeing
When the indicators are low It can become very short Before all hell lets loose Or we become quite fraught
The worst of it Does not amuse It often rages And feels like abuse
For the others It is never understood So automatic it is To be kind for all good
It is a practice To be in touch With how we feel And love so much
That is how I feel That tolerance works It requires no effort And is just one of the perks.