"courteously" poems
I walked in
all young and awkward and kindred spirit-less
with a name tag that read
in black marker with my bad penmanship
that only comes on your first day of a new place.
I walked in
and a nameless face greeted me
strange as he was
and asked if my name was Strawberry.
"It sure looks like it, doesn't it?"
I replied courteously.
And so they called me that.
I walked in
months later
to my first weekend with people like me.
and I liked it.
and they all called me Strawberry.
I walked in
on several different occasions
and I grew into my name
as a plant will grow to whatever container
you put it in.
and so people loved me.
I walked in
with an air of summer
an air of sweetness and bitterness and
****
but they still loved me
even more.
I don't know what I will do
when I walk in
my first day as an adult
and they ask me what my name is.
I could tell them "Strawberry,"
but they would laugh.
Adults do not understand
the sweetness and the bitterness
the ****
as only kindred spirits can.
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
Pretty Pictures; as you are embracing me
Lost in an earthly mood of tranquility
Evident than the shadows fusing my feet
Obscure like pretty lies melodically
Pretty Pictures; sailing, forever will be
Rhapsodize; vividly crossing in my mind
A face of cherubim winged up the sky
Cascading through visions abrupt
A star shoots afar than any distant eye
Longing endless of her passionate touch
We are novels, with so much stories to tell
Red laces, stamps of gold, a lush lullaby
I was the house you painted white
Agitate the deepest hues, then we'd fly
Midnight kisses, Dawn then traded goodbyes
Blithe; for we need nothing to pretend
The clearest blue water, a heaven's scent
To the grass wading courteously
Cloud nine's hanging then lifts my feet
Showering up above washing all anxieties
Pretty pictures; like ribbons untangled
A touch of silk as my heart would lilt
Inner feelings frolic then they'd tremble
For in you the excitement is always a thrill
From the simplest to a goddess divine
Pretty Pictures; moments as you were mine
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
Go seek her out all courteously,
And say I come,
Wind of spices whose song is ever
Epithalamium.
O, hurry over the dark lands
And run upon the sea
For seas and lands shall not divide us
My love and me.
Now, wind, of your good courtesy
I pray you go,
And come into her little garden
And sing at her window;
Singing: The bridal wind is blowing
For Love is at his noon;
And soon will your true love be with you,
Soon, O soon.
2.5k
be here this year
turn off cell phone
be still
be active
be in love
be truthful
be just
free a prisoner
walk for peace
find a friend
be a friend
mentor a child
be a child
take a hike
ride a bike
revel in nature
smell the coffee
grow some flowers
start a garden
honor God
read a book
write a poem
paint a picture
click a photo
say a prayer
maintain silence
hold your peace
speak truth to power
sheath a sword
brandish a pen
unload a gun
shame the arrogant
practice peace
dance joyously
sing gleefully
speak softly
love largely
climb the mountain
linger in the valley
dip toe in water
tip toe through tulips
pet a dog
feed a cat
protect a child
visit the aged
listen to someone
open your ears
hear someone
lift your eyes
see someone
go fishing
feed someone
conduct a search
find someone
watch the moon
bless the stars
write a book
start a business
make some money
lose some weight
drive courteously
cook a meal
feed the hungry
open your home
house the homeless
swim the sea
sail a boat
get some sleep
stay awake
be kind
be useful
be diligent
be vigilant
be reverent
be genuine
be helpful
be present
be grateful
be still
be
Namaste
Vaya con Dios
Have a Present Day!
Happy New Year
Music Selection:
Rimsky-Korsakov
Flight of the Bumble Bee
jbm
Oakland
01/01/09
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 6:44 AM UTC
The winter cold freezes his bony hands as he counts mere pennies,
While delicious scents waft his way from the grand boulangerie.
Filling the air with chocolate, lemon and even Morello cherries,
How he wish he could try some too, especially the black forest brownie.
He shrugs the dirt off his coat and enters hesitantly,
Concerned about his drab attire, he makes his way to the counter slowly.
To his surprise, the lady gives a warm smile and greets him courteously,
He loosens his clutched palms and drops the few pennies.
"What would you like?" asks the lady as though she sees him daily,
"A black forest please" he mutters as he jumps with joy internally.
She hands him his order and adds an extra smoothie,
Yet all he really paid was two dollars and a broken loonie.
Sep 20, 2020
Sep 20, 2020 at 12:49 PM UTC
i was motionless like the moment just before a storm
my hair clinging to the sheets, my eyes on the ceiling
and my hands draped above my head in a solemn halo;
my blue gasping fingers swallowed your kisses and
my mouth filled up greedily with your breath and
my body consumed every thought you gave to it;
in a dusty sweet voice, your words enslaved me politely
as the blankets of stars wrapped us up with love
and the rain courteously offered its applause
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
I flew to see her in Chicago, went out for dinner and hopped a train to South Bend the next evening. We brought ***** and whiskey to keep us company on the short ride along the lake. That night we made love, I mean really made love; both reaching ****** simultaneously. My prowess was there, in spades, but we slept instead. The morning greeted me with a hard on and she another ****** My prowess turned to hubris but I said nothing aside from, “Wow.”
The day, a Saturday, was spent touring the campus; a beautiful one at that, my favorite. I acted as tour guide while she abided courteously; I had the day, the girl, the nostalgia. There was a football game and we decided to go; the home team versus their oldest and most hated rivals, a must see. We yelled and screamed at the away team until they lost; beating themselves really. In the ecstasy of victory we promptly returned to the house and to bed. Again we made love, again simultaneous ****** I felt a deep, heavy connection, a longing. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but the night was cold and long and my breathing too slow to match hers. For hours I sat and let my arm go numb until I could stand it no longer and went for a glass of water.
In the morning we made love again, she reaching ****** me with a feigned smile. The day was spent with my father’s family, an unexpected detour. She was affable, me benign, and the day went on until we boarded the train once more, this time sober. We discussed my next visit, or rather attempted to as the conversation turned to politics, welfare, humanity. As I left for the plane I told her that I loved her and she said, “Goodbye.”
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
you may permit me in
we make exotic dishes of laughter and shared values
over talk of philosophic rapport
childish banter
and gestures of tender philanthropy on each finger tip
on every pressed lip
but you wont give me a key
though it's where I live
this is my home, you've made it so, just for me
you showed me in
you courteously carried my persona into your door
you do me the greatest of services
those that would make any soul well-lived
if I removed any trace of my exsistance you would despair
as you have
but you refuse to give me a key
and without it, it makes it as though you dont really,
actually,
want me
and what most anguishes my mind
is that I always gingerly close the door from the outside
if it werent for my soft touch, and attentive eyes
I'd have reason to believe that something is wrong with me
or my love
when, seemingly, it was made to our advantage
I do the best to support your virtues
and those that disturb the peace
This is where my belongings know their place
This is my home
where I linger after I wake
where I loose myself in the silence
where I drink myself into a stuppor
because my lover wont give me a key
You leave me broken up
but you gather my peaces by light of kindness
You don't understand, I'm hitting a wall
I'm hitting your good heart
your good, muddled, heart
I'm hitting a wall
a hard hard evaluation
of a disturbing
heart-to-heart
of which I never learned of
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
It is a curse this eye, my knowledge inside
resides in my mind inside a web of reality, perceived
I bleed to die a sigh what do I see? are you relieved? a lie?
Pleased to meet I courteously smile and greet
your handshake's weak so I straighten my back to hide the fact
the lion's fed, show no sign of attack
I step back and chat like an anxious cat
smile to show you where the fangs are kept
You relax, a trap? I check your stance is bad
So it's time to strike with might to prove you
that I might just see right through you.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
The leaves are worn out,
With time embedded in its existence.
They glide, as they freefall,
From the towering tops off,
The guardians of the forest.
The air, crisp and cold,
Lifts them mid flight and they float away,
Yellow with the age of a year.
It was autumn, and the birds were in their glory.
Singing, whistling, enjoying,
Their chirps faintly audible,
Though their presence could not be ignored.
The roads were paved with footprints invisible,
Of people who travelled ages ago.
After which it was left to nature’s exposure.
The rays from the heavens descended,
From the gaps made courteously by the canopies,
Like beams of lights, they lit up the world below.
The branches droop with age on its heavy shoulders.
They make way for us to walk beneath them,
They invite, they lure with their beauty.
“Tread the ways no one has gone”
They ask. “Why so alone?”
The winds urge me,
They push me along,
They float by, brushing against my skin,
Sticking like needles made of ice,
They hurt, yet inspire.
The sun’s warmth was meaningless,
To this invisible power,
Gliding by with its uttermost grace,
Amongst the path set ablaze.
Through the fiery depths of heaven,
I walk, alone.
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
Just for today I will try to live through this day only and not tackle my whole life problem at once. I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I had to keep it up for a lifetime.
Just for today I will be happy. This assumes to be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that "Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be."
Just for today I will adjust myself to what is, and not try to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my "luck" as it comes.
Just for today I will try to strengthen my mind. I will study. I will learn something useful. I will not be a mental loafer. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.
Just for today I will exercise my soul in three ways. I will do somebody a good turn and not get found out: If anybody knows of it, it will not count. I will do at least two things I don‘t want to do—just for exercise. I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt: they may be hurt, but today I will not show it.
Just for today I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low, act courteously, criticize not one bit, and try not to improve or regulate anybody but myself.
Just for today I will have a program, I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.
Just for today I will have a quiet half hour all by myself and relax. During this half hour, sometime, I will try to get a better perspective of my life.
Just for today I will be unafraid. Especially I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful, and to believe that as I give to the world, so the world will give to me.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
Beautiful Whitetail bucks , resplendent in Winter coats , statuesque along the hillside , ever alert in morning fog , complacent in the heavy cover of the Georgia woodlands , courteously striking a pose at Dusk , quite aloof in my own front yard ..
A crown prince of the ruminant kingdom at the edge of suburbia , revealing their breath on cold Winter mornings , leaving their signatures with rub marks and snorts ..
Commanding the fields of Spring and Summer , gorging themselves on brown oats , green grass , blackberry , fig and wild plums ..
Our wondrous native 'Knights of Hill Country' , panning green , picturesque pastures at the close of day , grazing for edibles along quiet country lanes , peacefully bedding beside creekside , Sun warmed hayfield , placid pond and mirrored lake ..Along Moon lit valley's , apple orchards and fire breaks ..
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
Courteously skipping through petals and broken glass,
I make my way home.
It’s been a while.
Trees bow down in greeting;
Rain dampens my cheeks,
Mildly reminding me of the way things used to be,
When innocence still stained me red,
When stars still blinked at me.
So now I walk with steady steps
That the ground doesn’t recognize.
Only depth and chasm know my pace.
I push open the door--
“Good evening, girl of ice.
Same darkness, same time?”
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 2:28 PM UTC
Devour My Memories, I Utter My Thanks
The faintest heartbeat, beating incessently within the womb of the accursed
A plague, a toxin, a parasite adorned in rozen love...
How despair will foster you as its own soon.
Despair that dusts blue skies to crimson.
Painting the earth with the despair you, so courteously, gifted...
A life she was meant to live, and a life she was almost denied.
Who was it that almost cried when she died?
Not the mother,
nor the father.
Not the god that wouldn't bother...
But the one whom those pointed and screamed
“Monster”.
Adorn thee with strength, needed to breathe
Adorn thee with love, needed to grieve
As an infant, our adoring spirits you teethed...
Our child, concieved with love...
Father adorned your body in gallant, red petals...
Sprouting purple fruit, that blossomed upon your beautiful body.
Mother, saw nothing, for the sugar in her eyes...
Nullified her to the girl that slowly died.
Your brother we had, whom we ensured held your hand...
Overcome with corruption, he mangled those porcelain bones,
It needed to be planned.
to dust they turned, hollowing them from the inside
until the walking world grew barren, and your canvas lost its color.
They covered their eyes to the “us” that they saw...
And you, who wanted to live, wished to know why their spirits died.
You asked of us, begged as a young soul, to not be blind
So HE painted your canvas with color.
Distorted blacks, containing every hue that even a treasure of a species only saw...
You saw, for one simple reason,
We loved you.
We showed you that the conceptual distortion you felt...
That solidified pain...
It, too could become a comfort. And I became your comfort,
the only comfort that you need.
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 10:53 PM UTC
Fastidious noises, thoughtless behaviours,
Far from consciousness, lack of education
Or merely of attention, while hands pick
Food plunging in serving bowls to stuff
The mouth so plenty it barely closes.
Licking fingers, displaying stained teeth,
Chewing forcefully, yearning for oxygen
Between an uttered word and a mumbled
One. Fostering boorishness masquerading
As liberty, as if politeness is currently outdated.
Reducing the annoyed to an uptight unable
To enjoy freedom, where mannerism is a cell,
As I courteously turn the other way and refrain
From speaking my true mind, not to offend,
As I have been brought up to be considerate,
And swallow.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 4:59 AM UTC
The TimeStreams are overlapping and Echoing,
Rebounding and resounding; slapping against my forehead and background.
The new fluidity of music and speech is incredible -
No longer the stuttering, spluttering, crawling gasps -->
Out of the abyssal Ocean and into the wading seas:
Seven in all - or so I'm lead to believe - nothing over my kneez.
The land looks promising - it's verdant green and vivid -
But seems to recede as I approach - Knight walker/explorer.
However, I'm too stubborn to quit now, regardless my trap;
This punctuated evolution of the Mind and Consciousness;
The instantaneous recognition of Oneself in Another -->
Another Male Voice, Lineage, Genetic Line, Protecting His Her;
Another Lightening Rod of Mankind saying, "Here I Am!"
"Feel free to look upon my Exemplar of Maleness,
And please, please pay attention to how I treat Her."
"In a spaciously vacuous Universe, We - the Male
Progenitors - are few and far between, totally out-numbered.
As such, We have a responsibility to Our Collections."
From what's been courteously displayed,
I'm thrilled and awed; and trepidatious and excited -->
And Happy to visit the Locals in their Locals as Visitor;
As Guest --> I've accepted the Challenges that nearly
Crushed me into oblivion, now I'll await concrete Invites.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 5:28 AM UTC
*writing to a few has become wearisome,
so wearisome i'm about to give up,
and when i do i'll be relieved,
i'll finally enjoy drinking and not talking
rather than my version of slapstick humour
in mime, i.e. doing the excess body language
shaking off phantoms of ghosts enticing
signatures in the frost of car glass.*
carbon monoxide in cigarettes is most
effective after a dinner or a midnight feast.
man, i'm just tired, touch too irksome,
i have 10,618 poems on my facebook page
that no one will read,
i'm about to publish a book, yes papyrus
print on the continent, but
i can't be bothered to feel excited,
i feel like alexander dumas having written
so many novel but only being remembered
for the three musketeers,
and that's how it's supposed to be...
but it's so damnable, i can't believe i'm
to enact a constant here, of myself or some other,
it's can't be so damnably courteously 70 years in
and nothing more,
one might say: one thing to conquer the world
and loose a soul, another to conquer the world
and loose all sense of continuity of furthering
generations of brown-nosing a mozart...
the joker's interpretation of nietzsche:
what doesn't **** you... only makes you stranger...
i have no fighting spirit left in me
to pay honesty to the maxim, as philosophers
are quick to maxim / maximise a non-existent
exemplification, in their spare-time they provide
all eloquence of a stated truth but no example to follow:
i could write you 20 maxims about something,
but none of them would be true had i to write
about it in transit of experience.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
Father is figuring out how to sharp the knives
from YouTube, satisfying a long-held ambition.
It has overwhelmed him;
this is the first time he's searched there for anything.
Later he will indicate me
exactly what number of layers of skin
he can pare from a cherry tomato.
I find footling activities with my hands;
he answered to my question, yes he's alright,
and courteously declined my recommendation
of whisky, so this is everything I can offer.
The shadow of the shadow on my father's
father's lung isn't said resoundingly in light of the fact that
breathing says everything for us. He has
an old oil stone somewhere. He is absolutely consumed.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC
Heaven above, the light shines through the animated branches of lively trees. In the loving rays gently moving through, I feel God’s heavenly embrace, as the trees courteously make way for heaven’s love.
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 6:16 PM UTC
The poem with no name.
There is a black raven at my tail, as I walk down the street;
It foretells me my tale will no longer taste so sweet.
The end is nigh, I hear from upon high;
In darkness I hear, the shriek of the beast.
I am coming to meet you, my maker;
Are you sure you are ready to meet me?
I will courteously scream at you, what have you taken away?
My life, your judgment; what a price to pay!
Too short was this living; your retort had better be good!
No I don’t understand! Who on Earth could?
This darkness you befell upon me is bitter indeed;
Without you to blame and scream at, what have I left to bleed?
A soul snatched from this world and elevated beyond this life;
In God’s eyes I find meaning, to my premature demise.
What countless men before me, have suffered the same fate?
I see two angels at God’s shoulders; I guess he sent his Devil away.
I kneel before benevolence and beg for forgiveness.
The voice of angel’s raise my spirit;
Their songs of joy are relentless.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC