#xavier - Hello Poetry

If I wrote a poem about a boy named Xavier, You’d read about his prehistoric behaviour; And rhyme dinosaur with omnivore. But these figuratives don’t reach the core Of the intrepid, the magical, mysterious, Xavier. First, let’s be candid about his one shortcoming, Although he’s Blessed, he’s no Second Coming. Therefore I’ll pour an alphabet gravy, Thick with rhymes to cover... A boy named Xavi. Xavi’s not achy, antsy or angry, and despite certain claims, he’s not the Almighty. He’s not beefy or bossy, but brash and brainy; and he’s brave on good days or if things get crazy. At times he’s classy, not cheeky, but crafty, and oft-times for good reason, Xavi gets crabby. Xavi’s no dummy, just ask his Mommy, but Aine laughs heartily cause he’s witty and funny. (The uninformed will pronounce Ex, but there is no E in Xavi.) He’s not flaky or freaky, flashy or frisky, and though he likes seafood, he doesn’t smell fishy. Xavi’s not gaudy or gloomy, ghastly or gnarly, and he claims to be Godly, but he’s probably agnostic. He’s clear minded, not hazy, in a hurry when hasty; he can be huffy and haughty, but none say he’s naughty. I’ve seen him get icy, iffy, even itchy, but never...most never...could Xavi be icky. He gets jumpy and jaunty when listening to jazz; but when the Mario’s playing, it’s all razzmatazz. One wouldn’t say Xavi is kooky or ***** words like kindly and knightly are more to his liking. He’s a lefty-looney who’s not idle or lazy, but he leaves no doubt he can be a bit dazy. Mangy doesn’t describe Xavi well, but moody might if you ring his bell. He’s somewhat nutty, largely nifty and a lot nervy, but I wouldn’t write he’s nasty or nerdy. Xavi can sing for he’s never off-key; and he plays piano like he’s well-past Grade three. Xavi’s no phony, he is what you get; and he’s perky and plucky, and pleasantly lucky. He’s quirky when gobbling and being a turkey; and when he sounds quacky, you might call him duck-wacky. Xavi’s not randy, but focused and handy, yet rowdy when roaring rambunctiously loudly. He’s not sappy or scrabby, scaly or shabby; definitely not seedy or scary or shady, or dare I say, smelly. But he can be touchy and testy, tricky and twitchy, especially when Xavi feels fidgety and prickly. He’s good looking, not ugly, and certainly not vain; sometimes he’s unruly, but never insane. Xavi gets verbal when his villainy shows, but avoids being vile when he soars high or dives low. We hear he gets wordy, and windy, even wonky; and he can whinny when stubborn like an unshakable donkey. Xavi n’est pas xenophobe parce qu’il aime la geographie. You see Xavi could be anything he feigns, Like a young hairy yeti, Or zany zombie chewing brains. But of all the ways he presents to me Xavier is Xavi, And that’s all I want him to be.

0

Jan 12

Jan 12, 2026 at 11:39 AM UTC

francie-lynch

A Boy Namaed Xavi

If I wrote a poem about a boy named Xavier, You’d read about his prehistoric behaviour; And rhyme dinosaur with omnivore. But these figuratives don’t reach the core Of the intrepid, the magical, mysterious, Xavier. First, let’s be candid about his one shortcoming, Although he’s Blessed, he’s no Second Coming. Therefore I’ll pour an alphabet gravy, Thick with rhymes to cover... A boy named Xavi. Xavi’s not achy, antsy or angry, and despite certain claims, he’s not the Almighty. He’s not beefy or bossy, but brash and brainy; and he’s brave on good days or if things get crazy. At times he’s classy, not cheeky, but crafty, and oft-times for good reason, Xavi gets crabby. Xavi’s no dummy, just ask his Mommy, but Aine laughs heartily cause he’s witty and funny. (The uninformed will pronounce Ex, but there is no E in Xavi.) He’s not flaky or freaky, flashy or frisky, and though he likes seafood, he doesn’t smell fishy. Xavi’s not gaudy or gloomy, ghastly or gnarly, and he claims to be Godly, but he’s probably agnostic. He’s clear minded, not hazy, in a hurry when hasty; he can be huffy and haughty, but none say he’s naughty. I’ve seen him get icy, iffy, even itchy, but never...most never...could Xavi be icky. He gets jumpy and jaunty when listening to jazz; but when the Mario’s playing, it’s all razzmatazz. One wouldn’t say Xavi is kooky or ***** words like kindly and knightly are more to his liking. He’s a lefty-looney who’s not idle or lazy, but he leaves no doubt he can be a bit dazy. Mangy doesn’t describe Xavi well, but moody might if you ring his bell. He’s somewhat nutty, largely nifty and a lot nervy, but I wouldn’t write he’s nasty or nerdy. Xavi can sing for he’s never off-key; and he plays piano like he’s well-past Grade three. Xavi’s no phony, he is what you get; and he’s perky and plucky, and pleasantly lucky. He’s quirky when gobbling and being a turkey; and when he sounds quacky, you might call him duck-wacky. Xavi’s not randy, but focused and handy, yet rowdy when roaring rambunctiously loudly. He’s not sappy or scrabby, scaly or shabby; definitely not seedy or scary or shady, or dare I say, smelly. But he can be touchy and testy, tricky and twitchy, especially when Xavi feels fidgety and prickly. He’s good looking, not ugly, and certainly not vain; sometimes he’s unruly, but never insane. Xavi gets verbal when his villainy shows, but avoids being vile when he soars high or dives low. We hear he gets wordy, and windy, even wonky; and he can whinny when stubborn like an unshakable donkey. Xavi n’est pas xenophobe parce qu’il aime la geographie. You see Xavi could be anything he feigns, Like a young hairy yeti, Or zany zombie chewing brains. But of all the ways he presents to me Xavier is Xavi, And that’s all I want him to be.

43

the rise and fall of stars both reside in me, cosmic rifts searing through the skin. each one bleeds a tale to be told, only i can hold—to ache, to remember. they form constellations to chart—a map of wander and wounds, a framework of a galaxy. but with your slightest, tender touch stellar lifetimes collapse again into light—bright, breathless—blooming into a supernova.

0

Mar 18, 2025

Mar 18, 2025 at 1:33 AM UTC

liebestraum

light, scar, touch

the rise and fall of stars both reside in me, cosmic rifts searing through the skin. each one bleeds a tale to be told, only i can hold—to ache, to remember. they form constellations to chart—a map of wander and wounds, a framework of a galaxy. but with your slightest, tender touch stellar lifetimes collapse again into light—bright, breathless—blooming into a supernova.

2

between mind and soul there is a strength-giving rock. that rock protects all of us... YouTube: Xavier Naidoo - Der Fels // Allein Mit Flügel - Live aus dem Mannheimer Schloss

0

Dec 17, 2019

Dec 17, 2019 at 2:53 AM UTC

maxneumann

The Rock (Mikey's 100th Poem Is Not a Poem. What Is a Poem?)

between mind and soul there is a strength-giving rock. that rock protects all of us... YouTube: Xavier Naidoo - Der Fels // Allein Mit Flügel - Live aus dem Mannheimer Schloss

7

I'm I lost, I'm I sick, I don't know what to think, I can used something to drink, I'm frost, And I can't sing, Out of words For everything, I'm lost and I can't think, Love at sea, And its so hard for me, Am I crazy, I can't rest till I see, I love you, I miss u Kaydee, I'm not through, I'll love u eternally,

0

Nov 18, 2014

Nov 18, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC

XavierS

My Sea

I'm I lost, I'm I sick, I don't know what to think, I can used something to drink, I'm frost, And I can't sing, Out of words For everything, I'm lost and I can't think, Love at sea, And its so hard for me, Am I crazy, I can't rest till I see, I love you, I miss u Kaydee, I'm not through, I'll love u eternally,

16

On this long night, Where the snow falls on me, I'm tired to fight, That's why I'm close to see, Oh strong spirit, Give me the strength to lift the sky, I don't have the merit, Nor the tools to see ur eyes... Oh Kaydee u are so far and I miss u I'd hold ur hands if only I knew... Where are you.......

0

Nov 18, 2014

Nov 18, 2014 at 3:23 AM UTC

XavierS

Long snowy night..

On this long night, Where the snow falls on me, I'm tired to fight, That's why I'm close to see, Oh strong spirit, Give me the strength to lift the sky, I don't have the merit, Nor the tools to see ur eyes... Oh Kaydee u are so far and I miss u I'd hold ur hands if only I knew... Where are you.......

11