"complaisance" poems
...Short partings do best, though: time wears out affections,
The absent love fades, a new one takes its place.
With Menelaus away, Helen's disinclination for sleeping
Alone led her into her guest's
Warm bed at night. Were you crazy, Menelaus?
Why go off leaving your wife
With a stranger in the house? Do you trust doves to falcons,
Full sheepfolds to mountain wolves?
Here Helen's not at fault, the adulterer's blameless -
He did no more than you, or any man else,
Would do yourself. By providing place and occasion
You precipitated the act. What else did she do
But act on your clear advice? Husband gone; this stylish stranger
Here on the spot; too scared to sleep alone -
Oh, Helen wins my acquittal, the blame's her husband's:
All she did was take advantage of a man's
Human complaisance. And yet, more savage than the tawny
Boar in his rage, as he tosses the maddened dogs
On lightening tusks, or a lioness suckling her unweaned
Cubs, or the tiny adder crushed
By some careless foot, is a woman's wrath, when some rival
Is caught in the bed she shares. Her feelings show
On her face. Decorum's flung to the wind, a maenadic
Frenzy grips her, she rushes headlong off
After fire and steel... .
3.4k
Honeysuckle infused those summer nights
Painfully sweet perfume that dulled thoughts
Like narcotic-fueled fantasies
Replacing will with complaisance
While children plucked the soft posies
Eagerly ******* their sweetness like free candies
All season long tendrils encircled and wound
Around each bush in a push from ground,
Thieves stealing away life-giving sun
Choking old life from the garden
Unnoticed, leaf by leaf perishing, dropping
'Til shrub and tree stood each a lifeless scaffold
Sep 12, 2009
Sep 12, 2009 at 8:20 PM UTC
Static, the stage was set
slowness had conquered
Furious fast pleaded mercy
but the sluggery had won
Dry was the sun
No wind did turn
trees were sleeping
chaos had out run
Dawdling present was lived
hurry was boxed in coffin
complaisance recovered
as again the slowness had won
Manisha
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
All the things you call me,
I admit, I have once been.
Any pain you feel for me,
Is all of my own doing.
All my complaisance,
My aggression; Suffering long,
I Know now, the cause;
Everything that was wrong.
Self righteousness over modesty.
Of myself, a forceful expounder.
Eminence devoid of morality.
To be refined and not to flounder.
Humble and quiet humility;
Beautiful virtues of ones own critique.
Sowing personal strength of longevity,
Ones gallantry, others may seek.
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
Si je perds bien des maîtresses,
J'en fais encor plus souvent,
Et mes vœux et mes promesses
Ne sont que feintes caresses,
Et mes vœux et mes promesses
Ne sont jamais que du vent.
Quand je vois un beau visage,
Soudain je me fais de feu ;
Mais longtemps lui faire hommage,
Ce n'est pas bien mon usage ;
Mais longtemps lui faire hommage,
Ce n'est pas bien là mon jeu.
J'entre bien en complaisance
Tant que dure une heure ou deux ;
Mais en perdant sa présence
Adieu toute souvenance ;
Mais en perdant sa présence
Adieu soudain tous mes feux.
Plus inconstant que la lune,
Je ne veux jamais d'arrêt ;
La blonde comme la brune
En moins de rien m'importune ;
La blonde comme la brune
En moins de rien me déplaît.
Si je feins un peu de braise,
Alors que l'humeur m'en prend,
Qu'on me chasse, ou qu'on me baise,
Qu'on soit facile ou mauvaise,
Qu'on me chasse, ou qu'on me baise,
Tout m'est fort indifférent.
Mon usage est si commode,
On le trouve si charmant,
Que qui ne suit ma méthode
N'est pas bien homme à la mode,
Que qui ne suit ma méthode
Passe pour un Allemand.
611
Dream on, Baby. Waking up won't be fun, but whatever.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXI)
Those bubbles on my tea, as kisses' pale
Touch augur that according to the sense
Of ist tradition? and both cuppas thence
Wear crowns of...what Joe gives me--in betrayl?
I'd rather his dear lips than froth's detail,
And we're off to a start, for all intents.
Ist funny now I"m his these bubbles fence
Dawn's waking note as breakfast 'non avail?
Or how we've jumped from playful to as twere
The thing itself, 'til Dad knows what we do,
To say "you think you've got a boyfriend fer
All that, eh?" Ya, which part is odd. He'd woo.
It's been well-nigh two months since Joe would stir
My sheer complaisance. And I'd love him too.
29Jun17c
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
papers, a fire ripped
them in halves & thirds
poets, with a quiet complaisance
were scarcely producing a grin
they were glad about the fire's
wild presence
together around it
the last pieces of memory
were declaimed
in a rowdy choir
papers, burnt to ashes
covered dead poets society
no one was breathing
or noising
though in the air the life was alive,
herself shouting
"the poets laughed
with the hope that
their masterpieces will not be used
to make fun of people anymore"
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 6:11 PM UTC
Tu fus une grande amoureuse
À ta façon, la seule bonne
Puisqu'elle est tienne et que personne
Plus que toi ne fut malheureuse,
Après la crise de bonheur
Que tu portas avec honneur.
Oui, tu fus comme une héroïne,
Et maintenant tu vis, statue
Toujours belle sur la ruine
D'un espoir qui se perpétue
En dépit du Sort évident,
Mais tu persistes cependant !
Pour cela, je t'aime et t'admire
Encore mieux que je ne t'aime
Peut-être, et ce m'est un suprême
Orgueil d'être meilleur ou pire
Que celui qui fit tout le mal,
D'être à tes pieds tremblant, féal !
Use de moi, je suis ta chose ;
Mon amour va, ton humble esclave,
Prêt à tout ce que lui propose
Ta volonté dure et suave,
Prompt à jouir, prompt à souffrir,
Prompt vers tout, hormis pour mourir !
Mourir dans mon corps et mon âme,
Je le veux si c'est ton caprice.
Quand il faudra que je périsse
Tout entier, fais un signe, femme,
Mais que mon amour dût cesser ?
Il ne peut que s'éterniser.
Jette un regard de complaisance,
Ô femme forte, ô sainte, ô reine,
Sur ma fatale insuffisance
Sans doute à te faire sereine :
Toujours triste du temps fané,
Du moins, souris au vieux ****
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