"courting" poems
There’s a silverback haze
on the shallow face
of the Rockwell Ridge
folded brow
puzzled chin
and dark hollow eyes
keeping watch
over the lilies
and crane flies
and will of the wisp
Rust brown ravens
and fisher kings
delight
in the reeds off north bend
(chased by the terraced streams!)
youth blades engrain
on the favoured
and historic
Banka Memorial
Mustard
and pumpkin skies
are clipped
by a call from
the resident loon
the sounds of Buddha Bar
piercing the silence
and shaping the afternoon chord
It’s a time to make way (stream side)
seems the anuran are courting
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
Abuser
Simple pleasures
Causing pain
Building up
To strike again
Draw them in
Shut them out
Weaving lies
Creating doubt
Love to take
But never give
Life expected
Not to live
Stealing hope
Stifling breath
Broken promise
Courting death
Cruel intention
Deed is done
Self-inflicted
Sparing none
Cori MacNaughton
8Apr99
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
Fiat lux and
Then I stand and see how it looks out on
Gnothi seauton psychologies of a naughty automaton he is
Out speeding on the autobahn while she is
Now sleeping on futons in peace it's
Not pieces that need to be re-ordered yet
Since he's reckless but wrecks less when he's courting it's
A sport, you see a ticket's his master trophy in-
Deed endorsing his Porsche-speed matrimony down master row and she's
Driven to this racer who makes her en-
Force things, they later make her take her lead like lead's erasing then vanishing
Banished from whatever it is they're drinking and it's cleaned
Running from the pitcher as if it's her fantasy
Love who's the catcher who has her and
Now you see
It's not lack-lusting but luck-lasting because lastly
Down the street
Is where I swear we're running faster from crashing, finally
Into this dreamcatcher's hazard
Our dreamcatcher's hazard
Oh have you heard
It's absurd that the whip cracked
Yeah the Porsche was hacked baby transformed back in two and back into a nat-
Ural rural state where the horse power level was more morally sta-
Ble biblically faith-
Ful foolishly a-
Ble but yeah we take over whatever we face-off and baby we're faster so we'll have to chase after our
Dreamcatcher's hazard and
That dreamcatcher's hazard's a
A madness that is learned
And it's absurd
So say the mattress is glowing it's holy
Matrimony, so don't look lonely it's only
Master Roshi, to say to chase your dreams
It's you and me be-
Cause for you my blood is flowing
For you my blood is glowing
For you this blood is flowing
And too the flood is blowing
It's true our love is growing
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
Filipino immortal of time
I'm courting thee now;
And making thou mine
We both kneweth
This day wouldst arrive;
Now taketh mine hand, stand by mine side.
I hadst amour'
For thee, for so long;
Now let's maketh, the sweetest amare song.
Ourn affection, tis obvious
For all to see;
We art the real deal, not some farce dream.
As tis we shalt meet,
As thou shalt get that engineering degree;
I'll taketh a trip, or we'll meet in between.
I'm courting thee now,
Tribal of tropic's;
I'll get ****** in thy saliva, bodie's close, bliss the main topic.
None material's needed
As ourn belief's state;
Ourn devotedness, not some internet kiss, everlasting mate's.
So now thou shalt knoweth
Thou hath been courted;
To showeth thee mine love, and to me thou art more important.
Other's shalt judge
As other wilt mock;
Yet we shalt be happy, in romantic cot's
Even if we art poor
With none food on the table;
Ourn love shalt speaketh loudly, none words needed, nor label's.
We shalt write poetry
As it becometh true;
Sweetest earl Jane, just wanted to sayeth, I loveth thou more to.
Tagalog language, thou shalt teacheth me better
Queen earl Jane;
This is thine courting letter.
I'm not all the other's
As thou doth see;
I am thy Hari, thou art mine Reyna, in whom I believe.
As I knoweth thou don't feeleth
Good enough for man, nor God;
Just wanted to telleth thee, thou art mine, and God's all.
I just wanted to let thee knoweth
I looketh up to thine light;
Thou inspireth me so much, as to other's, thou art vital to life.
So when thou feeleth down
And wanting to leap out of thy brawn;
Remember tommorrow ill be here, as well as ourn own god.
This is mine courtship letter
As now I'm courting thee;
We both want it and need it, mine best friend, life, and queen...
I loveth thee so much
We both none more canst hide;
Thou art mine Earl Jane, thou art mine life....
To thee; dearest Earl Jane..................
©Brsndon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/あある じぇえん
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 9:16 PM UTC
The fiscal snare is drawing tight
Putin’s day... now courting night,
Rouble tilts vertiginously
To Satan’s **** religiously.
Fiscal snare is drawing blood
A trickle then... is now a flood,
Russia’s central bank adjusts
But ineffectually, combusts.
Hard line prospects elbow dance
Aligning for assasins lance.
Perhaps….
Better now, the Devil known
Than facing down an Unknown throne…..
Facing down an Iron call
With finger poised in nuclear thrall.
What choice now for ego’s Prince
Retreat from Eastern Ukraine’s wince?
Retreat Crimea’s balmy shores
To face the nationalistic howl of hordes?
Brinkmanship…the other way
A gamble that the West might sway?
Either way the game is up
Now bitter wine brims Russia’s cup.
M.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
We marched to the words of "We Shall Overcome"
courting justice to walk at our side,
seared into memory with the heat of sun
brothers and sisters, arms linked one to one
beneath that day star's unblinking eye,
we marched to the words, "We Shall Overcome."
We swore an oath to forego the gun,
to carry only freedom's cry
beneath the impassive afternoon sun,
through bludgeon and cudgel one by one,
each truncheon summoning others to rise,
to join in the words "We Shall Overcome."
As we embraced, the marching done,
a crosshairs trained a sniper’s eye
to wrench malice from the indifferent sun
to hew a path in blood and bone,
to rend flesh
and a rasping
fatal sigh . . .
in the fading caress of the afternoon sun.
Beneath the eternal arc of the sun,
again we will muster side by side,
a sanctified chorus, whose song will be sung,
let our marching echo...
"We Shall Overcome.”
Copyright © 2018 Gary Brocks
Conceived after visiting the LORRAINE HOTEL (Memphis, Tennessee), the site of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Thursday, 4 April 1968.
In 1991 the NATIONAL CIVIL RIGHTS MUSEUM at the LORRAINE HOTEL was opened to the public.
"We Shall Overcome”, an anthem, title and refrain, of the American Civil Rights Movement of the mid 20th century.
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 4:18 AM UTC
"And then taking from his wallet
an old schedule of trains, he'll say
I told you when I came I was a stranger
I told you when I came I was a stranger."
--- Leonard Cohen
I'm the most surprised person on the planet.
Your coming to see me off at the airport
has my mind scratching glass seeking words.
Why is it that in this relationship,
you seem to have gotten all the speaking parts?
You're well aware that I have loved you
for the better part of two years,
bottling that emotion, afraid to pop the cork.
Your eyes implore mine, rotating like
a searchlight over Baghdad seeking
the stealth laying carnage to your heart.
Twice in the last week you've made it evident,
the Grail was mine, but for the drinking ---
That and finding a shorthand for adultry.
I'm guilty courting the love of a married woman,
made worse, you're here at my departure
telling me we aren't free to choose who we love.
I know my desire must die of thirst,
so I turn, boarding pass in hand,
the last words I ever hear from you,
Write me! --- Thirty-five years later I have.
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 12:54 PM UTC
I am supposed to be writing something
Because I am a writer
I’m supposed to be feeling something
Because I’m a feeler
A bad mood healer
A sunshine dealer
So wash your face and stare at the sun
And run, run run
A do run, run
It’s so much fun
Do what you want
Do what you want
Feel it erupt around you
Like a clown with a frown won’t do
Same with you
Not smiling baby
Light it up
Little darling
Live it up
Come on now
Stir the ***
Footsteps carry feet outside
And a body catching a ride
Don’t look now but there’s
A person inside
Walking that line
So many
Strangers in the night
Exchanging disregard
Invisibility works best
For some I guess
But I’d rather fly
Or would I?
- insert sigh -
Lay my head down
Close one eye
Keep one open
In case you try
To marry me in my sleep
Courting me in my dreams
Or so it seems
Do the work
While I’m awake
Look me in my whole face
You can’t replace
Or fake
Love
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
when taking out a girl
it is important to pick her up from her house,
though it is acceptable to meet
at the agreed location.
at a cafe, you buy her coffee.
at a restaurant, you buy her dinner.
at a bar, you buy her drinks.
buy a lot of them too.
this is only fair as
she gets paid less than you do
more often than not.
you take her hand and
you kiss her.
you hold the door open for her.
she laughs at your jokes.
she dresses up, dolls up and
you tell her she's beautiful.
she can make the move,
but it's better if you do.
but she can, this isn't the dark ages.
this isn't the dark ages.
we can all choose to vote for
kang or kodos.
I do admit, i'd only first heard the word
misandrist a few months ago.
(even spell check doesn't think it's a word).
which reminds me:
you hit her
you **** her
you abuse her
you defile her.
you are the one
who writes this kind of bile.
but it's okay.
we don't blame the bramble
for strangling the forest.
we do blame you for being
the way you are,
but it's okay.
you and I know
your repulsive behaviour is just a
reflection of us.
and we can't rectify a reflection.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 11:09 AM UTC
Between your poisonous smiles,
Your heartless jokes and your
Razorblade Smile, I fell for the
Person I thought I saw:
The One
The cuts made, still hurt
They haven't closed up yet
Just flesh wounds but they,
They sting. They burn. It's
Been a day and that thin red
Line, the mark of your possession
Is still on me, marking me for
The world to see. You're my
Obsession, the world's Pariah
But they all bow before you
Wouldn't dare say a word in
Your presence, except to beg
At your feet for your cruel
Double-edged mercy. A day more
You reward them. Throughout
Eternity, you taunt them. The
Price is so heavy, yet they pay up
They can hardly resist. The price
Of Humanity, of Greed is fatal indeed.
The unchanging constant wherever
I may go. The Universe itself is
Undefined, except for you and your
Kin: Change. Time wasn't ever as
Constant as you; its fickle nature
Is as legendary as your promptness
Change was never as evident as you;
Its subtlety as infamous as the
Pungent, dark
Air you leave behind
In the lives of humans and animals alike.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 1:22 AM UTC
You were the only one who held my stares,
your eyes were moons
invisibly courting me, sleeping next to me,
whispering to me gently as soft as you were.
I was not soft,
but angry and calloused and alone.
I cradled you each night as if you were ice cream,
or pills
or anything to take the pain away.
You were warm and solid and alive,
but I wasted it;
went out buying lemons and mouse traps
until I could figure out what I really needed.
All you had to do was sit with me,
watch me,
play with me,
nap with me,
to teach me how to live.
But it wasn't until you were gone
that I knew I was in love.
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 12:53 PM UTC
Twice amongst the meadows watching
from behind a Cyprus tree
he stares at thee with anxious waiting
glances nervous as he yearns for thee.
Twice amongst the meadows walking
plucking blossoms as they bloom
release from capsules such a fragrance
that make the glorious angels swoon.
He tasted bitter poppy petals
chewed to paste they cling and swell
to the innards of his teeth
each tiny bud they do expel.
grass and sun combine to create
an early summers reckoning
that bring about the union of
springs infant buds to bring to she.
From behind his hiding place
he comes to thee with frail mutterings
coyly he presents an antidote
to cure your failing frame.
As that maiden swoons from fever
pale as winter's deadly moon
fight she does for every swallow
that comes from each shallow breath.
Indeed her lover knows her sickness
and with ointment doth he bring
but to late he comes to aid her
for he is a timid thing.
In his arms she breaths her last
and with her dying plea
she implored as to why
he withheld his love from she.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 10:48 AM UTC
I am stuck up
Late again
Sleep evading me
And my thoughts
Surrounding you
I feel you drifting
Farther from me
The distance pulling
Your fibers of Love
From me
But I, like the fool,
Am still stuck up
On a wish
On you
Every moment
Every thought
All on you
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 8:23 PM UTC
I have met a nice chap
on the internet
he's told me
he'd like me to be his pet
since I'm not
a gold fish or Persian cat
I'm a bit confused
as to where he is at
maybe I should
seek further information
on his form
of internet communication
I'm expecting an email
from him at noon
to whit I'll reply
you're courting a baboon
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
I can fly, standing, my
back ***** I can fly, holding
my arms aloft, I can
fly, speeding down the hill, I
can fly, swerving around cars.
I fly, dancing with death and
courting danger, I fly, laughing
loudly at my fear, I fly,
relishing the near-misses and almost-
impact of tragedy, I fly, I
spin, I wheel, I turn, I
soar, *(I escape
everything.)*
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 5:47 AM UTC
SPREADEAGLED
Bucharest,
*
Spread-eagled and naked
in her crop circle -
this one in a sunflower field:
she’s a wheel of limbs,
some sort of a ********
lusted after by the seed heavy
flowers bowing to her curves
like drooling surgeons.
*
She’s finished with running,
waiting for the fading light
to join the last of her loves,
faded with processed proclamations
of undying certainty
which were a little worse for wear
after courting
and checked into intensive care
soon after.
*
Love thought it had
ducked its obligations,
passed again
like a heavy goods train in the night,
shunted across the border
while guards waved it on;
interested only in sleep or beer.
*
But this time she’s making sure
love returns,
pays its duty and dues
and hits its target.
*
So, splayed
aryan and vigorous,
apeing a pagan
resurrection,
she waits
for the skydiver
who – with precision
confidence – happens
to be bearing down
on her charity target,
slowly filling her
with his ***** shadow.
*
She sunbathes under mirrors,
she’s a real
tough nut to crack.
I repeat myself into her.
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 11:09 AM UTC
1
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!
Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower—
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum—
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!
3.6k
Just one bat of her lashes, and every neuron in my brain was conspiring to steal her heart. So I became a thief. I become a lot of things in an instant, the way a chameleon changes colors. Her heart was reduced to a jewel, courting became a heist, and possession was just the *** afterwards. She was nothing more than a crime. A terrible thing that I committed.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
death bursted into my room tonight
awakening a deep slumber
outstretching a cold boney hand
as if offering for me to go with him
I felt no fear or sadness
I have been waiting for death to greet me
I have admired him from afar
a lover who took no chance in courting me
Until he was ready to give me an embrace
That could be defined as loving and warm
but it was sinful and alluring
flickers of sparks in his eyes
ignited a fire in my soul
a passion that I had longed for
as my hand grabbed onto his
he pulled me close in the middle of the room
he began to dance to the tune
of our heartbeats synchronizing
a beautiful symphony rang love in our ears
craning his neck
he leaned in close
inhaling the shakiness of my breath
moonlight illuminated the poison dripping
from his puckering lips
as an offering to taste
what afterlife was
it held soft undertones of an earthy aftertaste
but an overpowering intoxicating sweetness left me hungry
for just one more dip
in his suicidal serenity
moving in one fluid motion
sweeping behind me
a boney hand placed on an unclothed forearm
slowly slid up my shoulder
as another arm was placed around both hips
he pressed himself tightly against me
icy breath grazed across my neck
making hairs stand up on my arms
as a moan escaped between closed lips
he whispered a seductive I love you
as he tucked hair behind my ear
the words I longed to hear
were met with a sharp knife
placed in open hands
and a crooked smile
spread across his face
it was at that moment
I came to the realization
to become his fully
my beautiful souls light
must burn out
to match his souls decayed state
no persuasion was needed
I longed for this moment
now the time was finally right
steady right hand raised
the elongated blade
"together forever..."
death breathlessly whispered
as a swift motion
punctured my abdomen
breath was taken out of my lungs
knees buckled
as death dropped me to the floor
tears of bliss flowed from my eyes
staining mascara streaks on flushed cheeks
I peer around the room to greet my lover
in another embrace with my final breaths
but im alone
left with a bloodied knife in hand
but this forbidden passion of a deaths dance
was only used to take ones soul
not give it the life it craved
laughing through the flood of tears
not even in death was I loved
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
Once in a dream (for once I dreamed of you)
We stood together in an open field;
Above our heads two swift-winged pigeons wheeled,
Sporting at ease and courting full in view.
When loftier still a broadening darkness flew,
Down-swooping, and a ravenous hawk revealed;
Too weak to fight, too fond to fly, they yield;
So farewell life and love and pleasures new.
Then, as their plumes fell fluttering to the ground,
Their snow-white plumage flecked with crimson drops,
I wept, and thought I turned towards you to weep:
But you were gone; while rustling hedgerow tops
Bent in a wind which bore to me a sound
Of far-off piteous bleat of lambs and sheep.
3k
so this night, I set stars heavy on my brow
and paint my lips with ash
a courting ritual, a lady’s rite—
my warpaint is the lean of my hips,
my sword, the word of gods in my mouth.
yea, I will rule thee
like the sea of my birth
and the snows of my forests,
and you will think it is you who are king.
my warpaint is the curve of my throat,
my sword, the feather-touch of fingers.
do not think that I will hesitate
to take what is divine right.
the splendor,
the agony,
the death
is mine.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Empress of cacti
Queen of the Night
She is resplendent
A fairie in flight
Glowing... a phosphor
With her inner light
The moon, her companion
They dance in the dark
Wooing and spooning
A'courting a spark
But they'll hearken to morning
Yes... they'll soon part...
They mourn at their parting
Such is their plight.
Her face alabaster
Her fingers so slight
She's proud and she's perfect
Her shoulders pure white
Of noblest bearing
The Queen of the Night.
SøułSurvivør
(C) 3/26/2018
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
It was not my first intention
Courting, that is
Never my strongest of suits
Known to closest my true emotions
I let my colors speak for me
The crispness of my whites
Radiating pure innocence
The warmth and joy of my yellows
Welcoming
My orange hints
Full of desire and energy
The subtleness of my pinks
Portraying my delicacy and grace
Be around a bouquet of me
The sweetest thoughts of the most gentle sentiments
Will arise alone from my aroma
After having met my thorny stems
You are rewarded by my silky texture
My mesmerizing fragrance
The spectrum of my colors entice
I spread my own rainbow across the skies
I tease, I flirt
All to my liking
However seducing
Although said to be a natural
I prefer to be picked
Coat smooth as the most delicate of flowers
Queen of the Garden
Rosa is my name.
Different needs call for different hues
I am divine.
I am romantic.
The presence of me, pleasant
The perfume I emit, calming
Creative minds put me to good use
A trail lines the hall
Crimson flutters leave a path to your bedroom
Delicately placed aloft the best of Egyptian cotton
What better sight of affection to see?
The flush of color to my cheeks when we meet
The thumping of my hearts beat?
Rose petals on the sheets?
From sponge baths to massages
Chocolate dipped scarlet strawberries
Each affair we have is the most superb of quality
My red appearance not the deepest of color
But its beautiful elegance is the most sought after of shades
A symbol of deep burning undying passion
Signifying the most immortal dramatic love
The Red Rose is The Rose of all roses.
Rosa is my name.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
Mirage of red
passion coursing
emotional courting
Love being placed
hopes being fostered
an inner dawn offered
Seeing worlds flourish
strength arisen like lazarus
nothing remotely hazardous
How one person
can paint your world anew
dripping in the glory imbued
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
No vices, no difference
I have some things to do tomorrow,
I think I’ll just take the wagon
I’m just waiting for something to happen
to help me make up my mind
I always imagine tragic
someone dies and they’re so close
I don’t believe in fairy tales or souls,
but I don’t even want to write their names
for fear I’ll have a hand in why they lost life’s duel
or maybe we’re all just an election away from
anarchic warring states,
where I must defend my beans and cucumbers
from slugs and marauders
If we hold it together, red China could invade
so would I rather be a prisoner or dead?
Perhaps, I’ll just meet some girl,
where I’ll feel “some” as a description does her deep injustice,
because the love will be enormous
Now, I’m courting a chickadee that’s never dull,
but her name doesn’t quite roll off the tongue
Her name is Adventure and she rolls like hills and mountains,
and speed popping truckers with their eyes and ecstatic smiles
If I’m still seeing her, I might be a gat slinging ******* out west
bumming around San Jose or Cambodiay
Hearing all that talk, I think I just want to leave,
and I guess the pay is better anyway
My mind is made up
it’s not something real
It is, was, and is still fluffed up with schooling and the words of persuasive people
their confidence in what their saying is like a lightning bolt ******* into my stem
they jammed us into waiting rooms for something called progress
they even separate the sick people
I closed my eyes to see what was real,
and saw nothing
There is no waiting room at all
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC