"chivalrous" poems
As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
When the hot water gives out or goes tepid,
So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,
O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.
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My eyes fight to shield me from the dark
With my last waking nerve I think of wrong and right
How much I want to be a good person
Why the devil is so fond of using me as a pawn when clearly I am a queen
Or at least I'm trying to be
I can go anywhere I want but not like a knight
For I am not chivalrous enough
The tides of disease will rush in to take you
But I will not move a muscle for I am grounded from moving in the way of an L...
As in Love
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
Momentary
mourning peace.
Mama pours a glass of mulled wine,
lights a scented candle
(- "cherries on snow" -)
and drinks to ol' Joan.
Passed down with the jewellery box,
somewhere in the will, the daughters
receive the annual chore of roasting
the turkey (delicious!) and the veggies
(good job!) and (could you pass the?) breadsauce
for their brothers and husbands huddled
on a threadbare sofa -- and a younger girl,
barely there, staring at a laptop screen.
Mama's not festive - always too tired -
barely celebrates, but orchestrates.
Years barely there 'cause she's needed in their kitchen
and someone's gotta cook can she please get a hand? and
one chivalrous male puffs out his chest, takes one for the team, gestures to the girl with no discernible attention span and
half-laughs an "ay, one day this'll be you!
Best get in there while you're young!"
((A baritone chorus of laughter.))
"You outdid yourself on the turkey."
"S'great, ain't it? Pass the potatoes."
Sometimes here, sometimes Spain.
We stay over. It's tradition: we're
scattered across the country,
maid duties are the least she can do.
Never our kitchen or living room.
Tiny. Messy. Unwelcoming.
Come Boxing Day, Mama gives
a bear hug goodbye and an
"it's good to see you";
Because it is, she thinks.
Thank you for inviting me
to carry out your labour.
I'm just grateful to be needed.
A month of red 'SALE' tapes
scouring the clearance shelves;
overtime for extra cash
scraped to afford the food she cooks you;
paying half for gifts she'd brainstormed
while Dad buys partial credit on the gift tag.
We vanish from your house
- like elves -
by morning.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 8:17 AM UTC
Tip Your hat
And curtsy low
The masses so mandate absolute guile
A handshake, a smile, a proper and refined bow!
To adorn thy head and semble wit
And do your best!
Take pride with etiquette
If not informed
Ye won't last a mile
And differentiation between animals distinguishes you,
Resplendent child
Wash your hair and underclothes with soap
Lest ye resemble sow
And goodness dear
Have I forgotten now?
Always remember to smile!
So I'll take your Winter clothes with zest
I'll scramble on point
No unruly mess
Oh, did i forget your coat?
No, I've got it, relax, care for a smoke?
My apologies, please forgive my latency
It must be warm in here for my blood
In fact...
Boiling over kettle within
Prevent me from committing sin
I do wish to vent
Pick up this pen
And release red wells from his dainty, fragile neck
Or...
The underbelly. It's beknownst to me entrails are thick
Now whatever shall I do with this fresh clutter?
I'll act for free, so cordially!
With my chivalrous lines
But can you, my friend, respond in kind?
After all, it's only common courtesy
It's over now, my fantasy
It dissipates with urgency
And this is my confession
Yes
Imbibed in me from every grueling, tedious lesson
An implication of uniformity
The daydreams borne from the perfunctory
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
I think I finally understand.
I'm the part of you you'd never felt worth venturing
And you're the part of me that I always desired,
That driven connection we have,
Its like two souls intervene so magically , so effortlessly,
That magnetic field we resonate ,
Is connecting us beyond what we ever expected,
No pressure, No negative intuitions,
Your spirit rejuvanates my spaces of unfurnished emptiness,
Your honest acceptance of me is chivalrous,
Need i say much about how comfortable we ease ourselves to let it go,
That deep spiritual connection we have is something i want to cherish,
I love how you throw off your inner thoughts at me,
Your love is enticing, so sensual,
I want you to indulge in my overflowing appetite of love for you
Let me love you inside out,
Allow me to counterpoise your darkside,
I wish to reside in the space between your heart and loneliness so that the two may never meet again,
You started a war in my heart, and I can't let it end now baby,
I am going to surrender to your carefree love,
Temper me with your protectiveness,
I wont be able to resist your soul,
I want to be in your circle of growth,
Fertilize me with your pureness,
Your ravishing personality amazes me,
Oh sweetheart,
Our craving and desire for one another light's us up whenever we meet eyes now. I never want that to go away,
For all that we had in the past, For all that we have now, lets allow our hearts to lead us into this path of perpetual love. <3
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:30 PM UTC
Disclaimer: I did this as a creative rewrite for one of my university lit courses, and all the inspiration and quotes belong to Robert Browning the original writer of "My Last Duchess"
HIS LAST DUCHESS
ARRIVEDERCI
_“That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive.”_ (I’m not)
Alas! Me, “a wonder.” He calls.
Now wretchedly refined and pasteurized.
To be consumed, now, for genteel eyes.
Pity! Should you ever see me roll mine.
Behind those curtains, you might have been surprised
To see my countenance whimpering
At you Sir; and seething, at _Him._
Must you not be fooled by that sickly decorum
Upon which his manly pride resides.
The Duke—what rich talent in envy he has,
And of pithy idiosyncrasies! Pardon me now
As I speak of his infamies: Is it not,
Too preposterous of a Duke, to sulk
And take offense, over a blush?
(As if the blush was his to wield and shun.)
Am I not allowed to flush _at all?_
And must I be ashamed of being swooned
By the casual offers of life’s grandiosities?
Each and every, dropping of the daylight,
Ripen cherries in May and chivalrous gentlemen,
my dear white mule; must I then weep
at them all, only to prove my fancy for him.
And when does gracious gratitude itself
become in vain: a finite honour—
deemed excessive elsewhere?
Never had he plucked me out, for censure,
Before he gave commands, I knew he did
To pluck the smile out of my face.
Utterly clueless—he thought I was
To find myself throttled, for immodesty.
A wife, an appendage to a Duke,
Loosely felled, to stroke a green-eyed ego.
My fault it seems, is a mere generosity
Of affection: falsely opined, if not
Misread, to fare a defect of temperament,
A chronic malady, doth be cured by death.
To cement the farce he will, soon, bring you
Downstairs to meet a friend. (a fiend)
A prized possession: Neptune, taming a sea-horse.
His hubris incarnate, cast in bronze.
But you must know the truth, for the sea-horse
Did not perish for naught, she is freed from him
At last.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Whether it’s burning bridges with people you loved;
We must always remember that our decisions will affect our futures;
Nothing is more true than the fact that whatever goes around comes around;
You are not immune to the cosmic forces of the crowd mind-decisions that you make;
Don’t be surprised when reality catches back up with you and brings you to your knees;
Be a good person, make right and independent decisions in your 20s,You’ll get further in life.
We need to control the invincibility we all feel;
It comes to both men and women and it destroys both;
We feel the need to be the knight in shining armor for our lovers;
As chivalrous as this may seem, I hate to break it to you in shouts;
By setting yourself up for a losing battle, you’ve only ensured your misery;
For the next few months in your 20s, find what rightfully belongs to you and no one else.
If our check is for $9, then we’re most likely spending $30;
Between credit cards, school loans and every other avenue;
No doubt, our need for immediate gratification is worse than ever;
The truth is it’s about making more money, not saving it in any bank;
At the same time, if you have no means for expanding your revenue channels;
Then you must be able to save a few dollars here and there while still in your 20s.
Trying to act like the man rather than learning how to become one;
If more time is spent pretending to be the person you want to be instead;
Then you’ll sink in quick sand without even knowing it or even being told;
A real man is willing to make sacrifices. If you aren’t down to put in the work;
Then please don’t act like you are. You can enjoy the success when you actually attain it.;
Be a man in your 20s, that is, being yourself, being a leader and being no one else on earth.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 4:42 AM UTC
When battles were fought
With a chivalrous sense of should and ought,
In spirit men said,
“End we quick or dead,
Honour is some reward!
Let us fight fair—for our own best or worst;
So, Gentlemen of the Guard,
Fire first!”
In the open they stood,
Man to man in his knightlihood:
They would not deign
To profit by a stain
On the honourable rules,
Knowing that practise perfidy no man durst
Who in the heroic schools
Was nurst.
But now, behold, what
Is war with those where honour is not!
Rama laments
Its dead innocents;
Herod howls: “Sly slaughter
Rules now! Let us, by modes once called accurst,
Overhead, under water,
Stab first.”
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I want to start by telling you that I am on your team…I am on the same side as you…I hold the pom poms that are cheering for you and your life. You are a beautiful person and you matter to me. You matter to many people. What affects you affects me. There is nothing about you that would make me not want to be friends with you. We all have things in our past and present that we are not the most proud of and likely things that we loathe about ourselves. You are no different in that aspect as millions of other people. You are different to me in other ways though…. You are breath for me…you help create a space I can be myself in…you create a space that other people want to be in…you are good and kind and wonderful…you think about others and live your life for what is good and right…you have conviction and dignity and honor and love a faith and loyalty like I have never seen in another human being……. You are chivalrous…..
There is no way I can understand everything that is going on with you or why things are the way they are but I do know that your life is precious and gifted and important…I do know I want you to live it. I do know that I want you to do whatever you can to be happy and healthy. I do know I love every fiber of you… I am here if you need a friend…..I support you in all that you do on this path to getting healthy…with pom poms of course…
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
i've got me a ***** black cadillac,
stretched out—front windows rolled right down—on the curb.
with a French girl waiting inside, legs long as sin, sitting against the wide dark window
legs extended 'cross the backseat.
hiding her eyes behind big round sunglasses, smoking oily moroccan cigarettes
—writing about the way i talk.
there's a whole lotta crisp, cold money in the trunk,
waitin' to be spent on the furs she wants;
old books for me. and why not??
old books on art,
and i can't even paint!
just sit around not talking—read about Brughel or som'thin,
wishing my over-large, complacent hands knew to render the face
a fifth so well.
a fifth of whisky's 's close 's i get,
i get drunk and further away,
out now in that devil of a car, parked presently out
by the shed where i go most nights to sit in musty chairs 'n scratch ink lazily
on pages nobody ever reads..
—but it feels ******
g o o d .
my frenchwoman would like to know what i think of old Proust...
REPLY: he took too ****** long! // (a sigh can be a story)
—one could write a novel in the time it takes to
toss your load on a pair of trembling ******* held up in offering—oh i can't help but be uncouth!!
—i mean just the other day fr christ's sake i moved a friend in Waterloo
to her new apartment and when carrying up the stairs two bags of clothes and a toaster
saw wonderful little second year heading up as well so i
let her go first (at first glance you may think me chivalrous) and while climbing up behind her
composed in my head the following pome, which i dashed off later on a post-it
and dedicated to her exquisite ***
“all legs blonde climbin' the stairs, lamp in hand, yoga pants
hot & clinging like wee-ooo / hot enough in this cramped old stairwell as is,
carrying all these bags & boxes & couches up for a friend.
—hey when you're all moved in / you could come sit that thing on my lap.
share a cigarette while i carve slices of apple & offer them to you,
impaled on the end of the knife.”
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 6:38 PM UTC
Hero
H-E-R-O
One word, Four letters
Loaded with meaning
But what, daresay, is the meaning?
What makes a hero?
Well, there are stereotypes
Storybook characters, playing the role
Strong, brave, handsome
Chivalrous, even. Bold and daring
But that isn't a real hero
A real hero is weak, cowardly
They lack confidence, they aren't strong, smart, or handsome
They live their lives in the background
If they had a color, it would be something nondescript
A beige, perhaps, or a muted blue
They live and let live
Until the time comes, where they must step up
The true hero, they seize the moment
They act against their fear, they gain strength they thought they lacked
To save the day
And fade, into the background
Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 6:16 PM UTC
My intention was not chivalrous,
It was entirely amorous,
So by letting you pass,
My intention was to look at your ***
And so…
You gave me a show.
And what an *** – it was.
As I let you pass – it does.
Some things to me.
I slap my knee
And I say: Oh Boy!
Such a joy!
And now that I reflect,
I realize it was the object,
Of something near perfect,
When I pulled away I nearly wrecked,
All because I was rubbernecked.
Even your thighs,
Gave me highs,
They gave me sighs.
So what is chivalry?
It’s men letting you pass,
Only to look at your ***
And you don’t sass,
Because chivalry
Is not rivalry.
And what an *** – it was.
As I let you pass – it does.
Some things to me.
I slap my knee
And I say: Oh Boy!
Such a joy!
We hold the door,
At the store,
You’re the decor.
We stare at your ***
And we let you pass.
You jog across the street,
My eyes aren’t discrete,
They just watch your ***
As you jog pass,
Your round ****
Perfect and plump.
Tightly wound in those gray pants
But I stare and I don’t just glance,
Your *** is what I desire,
Your *** is what I admire,
Your *** is what I’m chivalrous – for,
Your *** is what I’m amorous – for.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
i.
Cometh hither darling, passeth through the enlightened pergola, seeith how ourn moniker's, art carved into the archway thither ourn bower; A chivalrous Noble tower.
ii.
No worrying mine dear, a buckler shalt be close to mine grab, for the attacker's shalt tryeth to invade, steal, and get all in a duetimes hand; though the circlet I shalt place upon thine top, shalt giveth thee shielding, from the Creation's that mock.
iii.
Artista, mine chosen of coëval; chalcedony balconies shalt giveth us visibility, up close we shalt toast, in thine calligraphist theory, in intimacy we'll float.
iv.
The eaves of ourn citadel, shalt be engineered by thine geniusness, none better to build ourn protection, as thou art a stalwart of the age, a queen aloft all name's, an angel upon a seraph's stage, as I wilt espy thee from the window inside thine midst.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
Crimson fades away into a sensation of touch
As silence reigns admissibly
Courage stakes a privileged claim insomuch
To become known as chivalry
Existence of noble-spiritedness speaks of gentle blue
Drifting in on courtesy divine
Magnificent to behold, never given quite its due
Delicious as a fruit
Upon a vine
Majestic is the profile of chivalrous comportment
Daring held within a gentle sign
A quietness that speaks to hush the detriment
Stirring among the crimson
In my mind
Crimson fades away, hushed by your presence
Upon your gentle blue I feed
Your gracious strength completes my essence
Silently you consume
All crimson shades
In me
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
I am soon to die
You are going to make me cry
You say that I am the guilty
But it is this society that is filthy
So before I go
I will address your foes
Your knights are supposed to be chivalrous
But they do not care if you are at risk
Your king and queen doth rule
But their treatment to you is only cruel
Your nobles give you a home
But do not care if you grow alone
Your wives bear your children
But it is your best friends that are the villains
The men are seen as strong and whole
Little do you know they are drinking in a brothel
This land is made up of imposter’s hands
But you want to **** me the one who exposed your clan
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
Into his heart she wished to peer
To glimpse a shade of his crippling fear.
These feelings she claimed as just a murmur to sense
Of deep loss, unknown sadness, and loneliness.
From where he came baggage weighed him down
To where she found him toiling around.
Listing and rolling on an open sea
A broken man he was, so sure was she.
A place to pile pity, sadness, and sorrow high
To fill a hole in her own mind's eye.
A project, a task, a falcon with clipped wing;
Perfect - for a broken man can only be a summer fling.
A date written in sand to bring the curtain down
Leaves nothing to invest; nothing to lose in a waning town.
Help she will not, 'tis not her place
For when summer sets - off to another race.
What does one do when magnificent marble cracks to its core?
Take on the mantle of repair as their chivalrous chore?
For when one finds a thing more broken than they
Pious self-righteousness illuminates their way.
Always the better a thing that is broken
For it leaves that which lies beneath always unknown.
Talents and treasures in a life yet to live
Are the things that a broken man has yet to give.
For broken is mended through time and reflection
And then is when she might make a connection.
Yet a connect is impossible when hubris abounds
For painted already is a picture that confounds.
Perception turns to reality as mud turns to stone;
A broken man always is as she chooses to be shone.
Just as a broken plate, glass, or jar are easily discarded
A broken man is one who is also easily departed.
As fracture turns to crack and crack turns to decay
That which is broken knows only one of two ways.
To stay broken forever discarded as dust
Or to mend, heal, and repair the broken man must.
As the swift needle of time sews shut his ripped heart
The broken man realizes in this play he still has a part.
Realization that his role does not intertwine with her
Sets the broken man looking for what can only be a cure.
With grout, cement, and epoxy he sets to piece himself together
The broken man works diligently to fill in each fissure.
And as his new form takes shape he can confidently say
A broken man is not forever - only a detour off life's highway.
Lost in that summer was opportunity for more.
Voices and laughter fading with no encore.
A sadness swells in the throat behind the tongue
A song left to sing, but no song is sung.
The broken man mended whole once again,
He'll always look fondly where whence he has been.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 1:36 PM UTC
Dear feminism,
You're doing it wrong.
Showcasing your gender
in physical form
does not open awareness
of a woman's
mental
and
emotional
wealth.
It merely confirms
misogynist thoughts.
If you want
to make a point,
don't generalize your targets
as pigs.
Rather,
express what makes women valuable.
Men can be deeper
than your delusions
let you know.
----------
Dear homosexual male community,
I am repulsed
that people can
associate me
with you.
Emotion
or thought
or open-mindedness
or expressiveness
should not denote
****** orientation.
I love women to the point
that I am overly chivalrous;
why should me
being in touch
with my emotions
or being different
than the
'male status quo'
change my sexuality?
P.S. - Homophobia is fear of homosexuals,
not,
as you'd havepeople believe,
the dislike or refusal
to treat the act as natural.
P.P.S. - The way
you portray yourselves,
you are still straight,
you only prefer your
women
to have a ***** attached.
----------
Dear fellow men,
A lot of you are
perverted.
You focus on
superficial things;
the *****
the rear,
the hair color,
the eyes,
the shape...
For what purpose?
It is the mind
and the personality
that matter most.
It is because of you
that women have
painted our gender
as monsters,
pigs,
rapists.
And many of you are,
because,
in your minds,
can the women give any consent?
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 2:58 PM UTC
I think I've found a keeper.
His smile is bright and beautiful as any flower.
His laugh could make anyone laugh along with him,
Even more so with his sense of humor.
His eyes are as intricate and gorgeous as any cluster of stars.
His morals are as firm as any brick building,
And he is as chivalrous as any gentleman.
I could go on and on,
About all the beautiful things I know about him.
But something's still missing.
I don't know what he thinks of me.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
I want to fold up Constantinople
And tuck it in the crease of my pocket
With a rock and a harlequin opal,
Nestled against your map of Nantucket —
A keepsake framed by a tired locket.
Sunlight pours past panes like gold tapestries,
Blue-sky-checkmates belonging to Vermeer
And his Woman with a Balance — trophies:
A man crowned a chivalrous cavalier,
A gentleman of this tremendous sphere
Misunderstood by societal norms,
And expectations set by precedent.
All while a bird coos cucurucu, warmed
By yellow light, freed from discontented
Murmurs with song. I want to read segments
Of the map on the curved back of your hand,
Knuckle-mounds like the knees of a woman
You once said you loved between shorthanded
Compliments and the words of Walt Whitman —
Blanketed by a bible and a man.
Maybe our web-tangled thoughts coexist
With the sky, place our feet firm on the ground.
Or maybe they’re a window that insists
On temptations, the mind, rewritten sounds,
Coming alive, and wanting to be found.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 10:52 PM UTC
Early is the mourning
Of the glory that shall pass
Cold is the forelorning
As I dream of the past
In the days of old
The knights were still bold
Now its foretold
That the nights will be cold
This chivalrous knight of mine
Rides in with winter wind
Freezing the vine
And my heart in the end
I'll wake in the morning
To find that glory has past
The nights are freezing
And cold hearts
Cant last
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
**Arrows her eyes shoot, are sharpened by a silver light ethereal,
her heart, excited like a migratory bird, is ready to start, any moment,
they simultaneously practice for exactitude in the art of the dart
precision is enhanced after every consecutive try, I the target, gather,
my ever chivalrous heart, is ready to to receive it all, undaunted
as it gets late, expectant heart, slightly frets,
why hasn't she yet started to shoot at the target, straight?**
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
I got in an altercation with a beautiful prince
Ever since I felt like he was missed
All of his chivalrous action gave me immense satisfaction
Grouped into intense emotional gratification
A fiend for simple life long commitment
Baby all I want is for us to sit down and eat
Have great conversation
Field-day or maybe a field trip
A quick quip coming back from a joke
Choked on my words
Cuz all I wanna tell you is I love you...
Yeah I say it when I'm not around you
Giggling with my girls about how you rock my world
Something about you draws me into you
Understanding things about you that are unexplainable
*** my mind constricting to a constructive perfect thought of you
As I move throughout each day all I wanna do is talk to you and be like "Hey how u doin..."
Yeah I seem like I'm on a mission for you to understand the weight of my love
Leading to many thoughts of the man above cuz he places ppl in our lives
Bees ******* on honey that they made in their beehive...this is a metaphor for your wanna be queen bee
Crown on my head as I lay in a bed filled with future thoughts with you
I could go all day with this poem tryna express how I feel on the inside
Tryna reiterate my emotional state
Eating off a plate made with love
Come on let's go above limits
Loving every minute
See untold vulnerabilities can bring us together
Surviving stormy weather
I can't say it enough
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
Asked myself a zillion times...Why you?
I always receive the same reply.
Found in you what I was missing...
in what I thought was a full life.
From the moment I looked deeply..
within your beautiful brown eyes.
I knew love....
From the moment I heard you
say, "Hello there! Are you following me?"
You captured my heart and soul...
hook, line and sinker.
I saw a genuine class act with a very nice caboose.
You were worth the risk of threats of beat down
by chivalrous sailors and suits.
Thank you for telling them I was no threat to you!
You were gorgeous with truck walk...
How could I not follow you Nubian Goddess?
How could I resist irresistible you?
You make me feel like I can soar high...
You make me feel as if I can move mountains.
You are the reason I want to breath...
My eyes find pleasure seeing you.
My ears hear only your **** voice.
My hands enjoy the softness of your skin.
My nose loves your body's scent.
My body finds endless ******** pleasure...
in the heat and passion of yours.
You stimulate every part of me...
my mind, my body, my heart and soul.
Betty Ponder.....my only love....
You are the wish my heart made.....
you are all I could ever hope for.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC