"friendliness" poems
All the qualities I require in a man of mine.
Honesty, love, devotion, caring,
kindness, Understanding, mercy,
compassion, intelligence, Trust,
cleanliness, faithfulness,
sincerity, Strength, spirituality,
confidence, optimistic, respect,
Loyalty, pride, consideration, helpfulness,
Generousity, friendliness, morals,
safety, Responsibility, honor, truth,
justice, fairness, Equality,
peace, joy, harmony, happiness,
Handsome, nice, worthy, deserving,
tall, Innocent, charming,
pleasant, polite, sweet, Thoughtful,
sentimental, patient, complimenting,
Affectionate, & noble.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved,
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:33 AM UTC
Lioness
You are my lioness
Protecting me through think and thin
Using your keen alertness
You hold me in
I am you cub
You Roar keeps the bad lions away
Like a the man and the club
But your lick makes me stay
Soft warm fur drawing me in
Like the blanket at night
That keeps me tucked in
So that I sleep tight
But jk tho
I know you are not the lioness
I just want you to know
You are the king of friendliness
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
What is talent?
Is it power
Is it pride
Should it show
Or should it hide
I know what you think
You ask why
I hear it all the time
You've got talent man
But do I
Can you measure talent
Through structure and rhyme
As much as i hear "you rock"
I hear "you ****
Because they weren't happy with my words
Because it wasn't what they thought they should have heard
Because their friendliness must be paid for
not earned
I know that I'm good
I know that I should
Let my talent shine
But keep in mind
I'm not divine
I'm just a regular guy
Who loves to write
Works of rhythm and rhyme
I do not think I'm the best
I'm just like the rest
The rest of you who read my work
Who have felt the same pain and hurt
Your life reflected in my art
And also my heart
And so this is for you
All the ones who've
Seen the colder side
Had a reason they had to hide
For everyone who has ever cried
I write for one thing
Its the least I could do
for all of those who
have seen their lives through
the words I write, and then feel new
All of my readers
All of my friends
I write this for you
For, it is you, with the talent
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 1:44 AM UTC
As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert;—when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields;
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw
Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew
As is the wand that Queen Titania wields.
And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,
I thought the garden-rose it far excelled;
But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me,
My sense with their deliciousness was spelled:
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea
Whispered of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquelled.
3.8k
(Inspired by article below)
I.
Continuity
your filibuster egg of sand
dazzled curiosity
with creaky shell of hints
heaped upon the tedium
of knowledge's unfurl undeterred
by encyclopedic impatience
Assurances of rip(Van Winkl)ed
economics shooed paper strings of
revelation like anarchy-powered
taxes summoning a foreword
to anachronistic campaigns
of environmental friendliness
II.
Meanwhile years
have been filed down to flashes of
chronology for continuity's organic rebus
However long it took
the economic karma to fall into the
abodes of hedonistic pharaohs
it was instant
Skin that ruled behind the constitution
of allergic breath
bailed on the bones against their most
sublime intentions
Limbo-treading landlords
huddled in their mummified freeze
after breadline bashers scolded them
with the spoils of a new brand
of pyramid scheming
Robbers of the coffin palaces
stole the intimations of identity
theft from today
Immortality and freedom
were compelled to share a meaning
like estranged siblings
or bound dynasties
I(a).
Abydos
how you coyly toyed with us
with a diversion bordering on monolithic
04 23 14
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
I look at my mother
my father
photos of grandparents
****** structures change
clothes
hair
but the eyes
are always the
same.
sad.
but strong.
it makes me think,
is my crave for the blade genetic?
is my darkening depression
running through my veins?
am I fated to be this way forever
by the DNA I've been given?
and if that is so
if all the bad in me is just
genetic makeup
is the good in me the same thing?
the kindness
friendliness
all just programmed
into my mind?
am I nothing more than
an unbalanced
unfortunate
bag of chemicals?
can we find the strength
to diminish the bad
part of human instinct
or were some of us born
to fight a never ending war
of self destruction?
do we even have a choice?
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
Cat call in the distance at three am
Someone far away is hot
And someone far away is *****
Decisions made with beer goggles
As you half-sleep in a bubbly, pleasant haze
There’s more evidence for evolution
Than skeletons and theories
I think as I hear a college girl
Shriek just like a chimpanzee
Below on Spruce Street
Far away noises sound so close
They are inside my tiny flat
Invading
How frightening it would be to venture outside so late
On a saturday night
And soak up the stupidity
Violence at the slightest provocation
Passive-aggressive friendliness
Walk past a bar
Would I make it home alive?
The city lights cast a morning glow
on the trees and the now-grey sky
It looks as if the sun is rising
But, no, I’m still here in my warm, fluffy bed
Half-asleep, half-awake like most nights
When will I escape this vampire’s schedule?
I long for the early mornings of my youth
Seven am, the darkness lingering
Birds chirping, parents yelling,
Reading on the school bus
Innocence, naïveté, thinking life was so difficult then
But it wasn’t
That was just the beginning
The **** population skyrockets after two am
Because nothing good happens then
Birds, maybe robins, singing at four am
Everything is backwards at this hour
And so much more frightening
Terrified of even leaving my room
Down the dark, empty hallway
Maybe I’m just jealous
I wish I had some friends to be stupid and drunk with
Some men and boys too
Even just some alcohol
A cold glass of beer
To help me sleep
To taste
So bubbly and bittersweet
Pop with a punch
I must imagine my glass of water as a mug of beer
And hope...
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
I have ability to switch style
even under pressure
Focused concentration, I am
with tenacious unpredictability
And yet fail to admit mistakes
even resist as always
Laced with external distractibility, I am
What a world......Give me strength.
I have ' killer instincts' to move mountains
even driven to pinnacle with passion
Making things happen as always, I am
even I am, less anxious in decisiveness
And yet do things my own way
rushing the poor fellow to frail
Impatience won't disappear with quietness and shyness
What a world.....Give me strength.
I step forth in dignity for low anxiety
even with meticulousness
Decisiveness for reality, I am
with sterner stuff in slippery control
And yet unable to manage time
with a hog on spotlight
Drenched in my own outbursts, I am
What a world......Give me strength.
Proud of my strength of friendliness
even with positive openness
The power to carry on with persuasiveness
even I am, yes I am in assertiveness
My strength that never dies
in the face of motivation
And yet my ears are too weak to comprehend
with sound of **********
What a world......Give me strength.
Let me be weak to be strong
and strong I am in weakness
With passion for sweetness in bitterness
And this is real in steel
The contrast and the conflict
That steers in my way of long ago
And this reality in mirage
Gives me the courage to rise above pain
What a world.....Give me strength.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
Down stucco sidestreets,
Where light is pewter
And afternoon mist
Brings lights on in shops
Above race-guides and rosaries,
A funeral passes.
The hearse is ahead,
But after there follows
A troop of streetwalkers
In wide flowered hats,
Leg-of-mutton sleeves,
And ankle-length dresses.
There is an air of great friendliness,
As if they were honouring
One they were fond of;
Some caper a few steps,
Skirts held skilfully
(Someone claps time),
And of great sadness also.
As they wend away
A voice is heard singing
Of Kitty, or Katy,
As if the name meant once
All love, all beauty.
2.4k
Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there
Among the bushes half leafless, and dry;
The stars look very cold about the sky,
And I have many miles on foot to fare.
Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air,
Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily,
Or of those silver lamps that burn on high,
Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair:
For I am brimfull of the friendliness
That in a little cottage I have found;
Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress,
And all his love for gentle Lycid drown'd;
Of lovely Laura in her light green dress,
And faithful Petrarch gloriously crown'd.
2.4k
There I was
Alone sitting down.
You sat next to me and said hi.
I wanted to get away from you
I don't know why
Kindness and friendliness
Is what you offered me everyday.
I started enjoying your company
Laughing and smiling
Each day we saw each other.
Months passed.
I realized that I had feelings for you.
My heart leaped everytime I saw you
Loving each smile you gave me.
Enjoying every silly conversation
That we had in that dull classroom.
Its been two years.
We no longer talk like before.
I never told you that I liked you.
You're now with her.
And each night I feel sad.
But I'll always treasure those moments we had.
Remembering that young boy that sat next to me.
Who was kind and sweet.
That smile that would make my heart melt
Was one of a kind.
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 2:54 AM UTC
healing:
*verb (used with object)
1. to make healthy, whole, or sound; restore to health; free from ailment.
2. to bring to an end or conclusion, as conflicts between people or groups, usually with the strong implication of restoring former amity; settle; reconcile: They tried to heal the rift between them but were unsuccessful.
3. to free from evil; cleanse; purify: to heal the soul.
verb (used without object)
4. to effect a cure.
5. (of a wound, broken bone, etc.) to become whole or sound; mend; get well (often followed by up or over ).*
reconciliation:
*verb (used with object), rec·on·ciled, rec·on·cil·ing.
1. to cause (a person) to accept or be resigned to something not desired: He was reconciled to his fate.
2. to win over to friendliness; cause to become amicable: to reconcile hostile persons.
3. to compose or settle (a quarrel, dispute, etc.).
4. to bring into agreement or harmony; make compatible or consistent: to reconcile differing statements; to reconcile accounts.
5. to reconsecrate (a desecrated church, cemetery, etc.).*
The task
painful and cumbersome
is to decide
if both can be.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
I don't think you get how difficult this is for me. Do you?
At home, I can never be alone, always around my family because they are convinced I am a danger to myself and they have to keep constant watch over me. It's more like I'm trapped. I do not feel cared for, or loved (even though they do) but it feels like a prison where privacy and solitude no longer exist.
On campus, I cannot be myself. This writer, poet, loner, silent girl who only speaks to people who seem decent or whom initiates a conversation because she is too scared to do it herself. This insecure girl who must now change to acquire friendship, company. She only wants to be liked, accepted, and to belong. **** on Wednesday, clubbing, flings, shisha. I do not understand why it takes so much to have a friend that would stay. I smoke, and that would be the limit, but my loneliness begs for so much more.
In public, I want to just shout out who I am and who I could really be. I want to walk up to strangers and spark up a conversation of similar interest. Ask how they're doing, or if their family is well. Let them know I could be their friend and allow them to cry on my shoulder about the trauma they've been through. But I cannot. No one smiles when I smile at them, they only walk faster and turn their heads away. Why is it that simple acts of kindness or just friendliness can be such a disgusting and rare thing?
When I'm alone, I can be myself. I can cry and shout and sing and write and dance and do stupid things. I can smoke and laugh and scribble and put on make-up and take selfies while no one's watching. I can be at my worst, and I can be my best when I'm alone. It's a blessing and a curse but it's solitude which I treasure so much.
It's funny how much I crave companionship; a friend, a partner, a love interest. Yet, I wish to be alone. Why is that?
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
Your Face is the color of painful secrets
Or perhaps just pain
Your friendliness kills the vicious realm of
Myself that I rule
Your averting eyes scream
And your false smile weeps
Speak to me,
Ms. Agony
Tell me your pain
Let me wash it away
show me the real smile
that hides behind your torment
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
I don’t like Marmite.
I’m going up on deck.
Don’t look. Don't Look. That’s why I said don’t look.
WAIT! Somebody! I have to go inside.
To find my glasses. My swimming glasses.
In the wonderful world of haribo.
Do you smoke? I don’t want you to die. Why? But why?
The purple ones are so sweet, did you know that?
A giant one came out! A giant one – two eggs!
In the game his eggs are like – that – big! He made two.
Is that friendliness?
I’m going crazy.
But dadDy!
My feet used to be – THIS - big.
I told you you had to use this.
Hey you! Come back with my slippers.
Put a glass with only ice, I want to make very very very cold water. ..
Feb 22, 2011
Feb 22, 2011 at 3:08 AM UTC
A fruit and vegetable vendor,
simple and humble,
Always seen with his handcart,
alongside the road, which was parked.
On my way back
from the gym,
Bought the fruits and vegetables
daily from him.
**Neither the quality!
Nor the variety!!**
But his greetings "Namaste Didi" with that innocent smile,
caught my attention for a while.
That friendly gesture
made me feel familiar.
Balming the lonely and tired soul,
in the foreign soil,
in this city of strangers,
accommodating many dwellers.
While lost in own thoughts,
or busy in the cell-phone chats.
But this simple guy never failed,
seeing me come, he sweetly hailed.
"Namaste Didi"
Once, when I resumed
after a vacation,
Found dozers, excavators
busy in construction.
An all new road, footpath
for beautification,
It's the "smart city" project's
much awaited implementation.
I realized, that something was amiss!
"Namaste Didi", welcoming, friendly voice!
I looked for him all around,
Standing near a pole, he was found.
Neither cheerful, nor fruit or vegetable?
Uttered him, now the business not feasible.
Not allowed to park his cart anywhere,
As "The Smart City Mission" started here.
Go to the big stores now,
for the daily needs,
Roadside vendors
pulled out like weeds.
Neither friendly smile, nor simplicity!
"Namaste Didi" swallowed by "the smart city"!!
Do we really need a "smart city",
or simply a city?
addressing the needs of all,
retaining its simplicity.
The social warmth
and existing friendliness,
Accommodating all
with self sustenance.
**Isn't socialism, just a myth!
No offence, this way I think!!**
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 5:45 AM UTC
From the innocent purity of white
To the hopeful friendliness of yellow
The emotional tenderness of pink
The elegant femininity of lavender
The passionate strength of red
The warm flamboyance of orange
The natural generosity of green
The royal nobility of purple
The peaceful serenity of blue
The durable simplicity of brown
The reliable dignity of gray
Or the deep mystery of black
Whatever your true colours are
Be proud and let them shine!
© Raphael Uzor
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^^^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
{[a parachute of words to soften death
(the impact governed by an ancient rule)]
for falling slower, to allow the gaze to linger
on a beingscape of prophets, sages, and of fools,
to entertain a fantasy, a whim
or a kernal sign of epistemic limn}:
\| /
feline-dolphin friendliness to bring,
to sing of paws and fins, to fashion songs..
cut playful, caring, interspecies lens.
sprouting karmic stems at every step
with toe-gems on a koan-grounded path
on which the memories of art abound--
to measure wrath, to nard with wisdom salves
the holon vast of intra-earthling givenness
and arm the doom'ed nous with lethe-wards:
a Helm of melodies to dim the sound
of nether-chords in taunting reaper's lure;
pantheonic Plate to temper tangent blows
of glowing smoulders, darkest passion throws;
Wings of flame in kind caressing pleasure
licking high incurvate spinal moan... alone...
the tone is sure, for underworldly psalm
and biding sweep of time, aeon after aeon, eternal bone on bone,
in gales of fated nescience, the moment dawns
careening, skirrs my aether-self of lighted
purpose drawn, and telic web of wanings on...
_
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 11:32 PM UTC
Turnips & Silver King,
onions & string beans,
carrots & radishes,
lettuce & potatoes,
yellow squash & bells,
the brown eggs
sure look swell.
Honey of all shades,
homemade jams & jellies
& wildflower arrangements
made to glorify God.
People here smile & nod
their friendliness
& what matter
if they have any teeth or not,
they will never be forgotten
for their gifts to mankind.
And if it were their last penny
& you needed it,
it would be yours.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
Strangely induce
By a lovely matron
Instantaneous
Gaiety
While defrayal
Skeptical to various reasons
Which I try to figure
To a woman whom I hardly knew
A smirk that only a whisper can tell
Who is she?
A gracious beauty
Meander misdirection
I pause
Masquerading my persona
She uncovers
Challenges that I arrange with deception
Bewilder
Her magnificent grassroots
How elegantly her friendliness is shrewd?
I am perch
For her liquid perfection
Which cannot be quench
As my throat dries
My language to her will be lost
Dec 7, 2009
Dec 7, 2009 at 1:18 PM UTC
It was on this day years ago..
That a piece of me began..
lived 30 years of my Exsistance..
before I ever was created..
Learning Lessons that would guide me
making decisions that would mold me..
You straight A! Bowling Queen
You Drama Class, Afro swag
Making memories for bed time stories
Reminding me of my history
The pieces my genes reenacted
that I just couldn't seem to recall
The muse of my creation
she who place life into this world
Strongest thing I've ever seen..
Before I could understand a thing..
Thank you for your amazingness
your gentle heart and friendliness
I would never be a piece of me
If you never were All you could ever be!!
Happy Birthday Momma!!!
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 2:21 PM UTC