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Sid Lollan Apr 2018
Gentlemen of Courage and Ladies of Excellence,
Toast to stolen prayers with rarer player’s hands;
Soft in defiant laughter,
when drinking their wine from the bowels of brines

Sing along the Ballads of Heritage with Melodies of Exception;
Boast, not a breathe,
though sullen heirs ghost to fairer wearer’s air(s) of land—
A settlement of Rapture and Resurrection, arid, amid dirt and sand

and King and thy Kingdom sprout flowering tomb, and rosebud temple reach to the sky during the showers of spring
Devours the crescent Moon

in big pink petals of bloom;

A garden so fertile
it could look pretty in wartime—
with Gardeners of Courage and Laborers of Excellence;
(Lapse, not into digressions of Being and Essence
but hands in the soil and planting the actions of kingdom come,
       patient building of Spring Reign sure
as the flame, the architect of rising Sun is
(Daughters and Sons of kingdom came,
      the soldier in a land been conquered and named; abandoned
for the greenness of hope.
)May it never come, Be All The Same; (


be gentle, though whispering wind)

Seeds of Nextyear and the spores of Awhile,
carried by the Wasps and the Clouds
To the Gentlemen of Excellence and Ladies of Courage,
illuminated, eyes from the flora of stars faraway forest floor of foreign

      fears,
      as the hungry Owls of Time prepare a final feast—
      Consume the years between Here and Now;
      Watching from blank perch, among
      the Trees of Afterall; a place beyond expectance.
      Sing the branches of experience, to wake
      in Siren’s cipher; inelegant forms
      of waking,

ugly sleep on rocks of seabed; once was aboard a marooned skyline—

Those Who Are Will Be
again, again a serf in a wave of Time’s refraction. Neverending neverbeginning;

                          Those Gentlemen of Courage and Ladies of Excellence,
on the Day That Is, arrays of seers sayers doers displayers
optimists and pessimists, toast to them
        and their rarer player’s hands,
Boast they, not a breathe, though sullen heirs ghost
to fairer wearer’s air and land;
Laugh and howl and dine, they drink their wine
from disemboweled gourds
        of their own divine—
Warped, in jowls of hungry fix,
no feast they fear, for they prey to the Owls of Time.
Let me love you right as a friend.
                       Let me hold you tight.
Give a kiss goodnight towards the end.
                      Wake up to that morning light

My female friends said my heart is like gold.
A caring perfection never controlled.
This a story never foretold
Express your problems never untold.
I’m here to help you carry that load.
Take your time as I hold your hand.
Because I’m DatGuy an Understanding Gentleman.
Your conscience is saying “Let him in”.
I’ll give all my trust...it won’t hurt.
Take the time to readjust...please insert.
I’m giving you a meal before dessert.
This is real..deal or no deal.
Like the game show with Howie.
I know your wondering DatGuy “how is he?”
“Why is he so attractively getting too attached to me.”
I always say I have an old soul so classically.
Like a musical masterpiece.
I’m just here because I had to be.
Your just here because you had to see.
I want you to believe not every male.
Would lie or tell-a-tale towards a female.
There’s only a few very passionate.
This is true no need to imagine it...

I want you to understand me.
As a friend no make believe or pretend.
That I’m here for you until the day we end.
Right now let’s enjoy this Day as it Begins..
You look real intelligent, pretty, and elegant.
Better than a diamond, ruby, sapphire, or any element.
If you want to be taken out I am a specialist.
I will truly be carefullest it’s almost definite.
I meant I am one hundred percent positive.
You can only take my word & my trust not the opposite.
Sorry there’s no evidence my past is irrelevant.
Mistakes were made I’m a new development.
Someone you can settle with an Understanding Gentleman.
I’m very observant and pay attention to details.
Beneath the bracing maple tree
Awaits a beau, pursued heart's key

Cold sweaty hands, timid was he
As if he's dosed with ecstasy

To woo this beautiful princess,
Hath played a fiddle effortless

Heart beats loud beneath pastel dress
Mind's been puzzled, soon she'll confess

She don't regret, she won't forget
For that so moment felt kismet

Will they be lovers? Make a guess,
It all depends if she said yes
Let us reminisce and appreciate the efforts of an unfeigned gentleman to win the heart of his fairlady through traditional courtship.

With all my heart I give you "The Suitor", enjoy!
Sarah Dec 2018
I crave a dance
Not a hug,
Not a kiss or a delicate touch
But a dance
A red dress and a gentleman to take my hand
On a shinning dancefloor
On a trip outside the dimensions of this world
Where flying needs no wings
Where music feels like the gentle wind
I'd swirl and swirl
With my red dress flowing like the petals of a rose
Carried by the swift breeze
Till it come back
To you
I never danced with a man, ever
Pagan Paul Jul 2018
.
In a costume of conflicting emotion,
of crossing diamondic colour,
with regal posture in grief,
the Harlequin and the King,
a display of opposites
creating a composite being,
that eases her body
gently into the waiting water,
to float away serene,
on her journey to the nether.

Midnight blue and emerald green,
the regalia of ermine,
both ostentatious and humble,
robeing the aspects,
understated in crowning splendour,
the gentleman King bows,
and the Harlequin laughs,
the bi-polar reaction
to the tragedy of misfortune,
with a sting in the myth-tale.

With the dark hues of mourning,
a legend passes on her way,
across the streams of time,
on a voyage to discover herself,
carrying her Harlequin in a purse,
holding her King to her breast,
owning them both in her heart,
the medicine wheel spins,
knowing the grapes of wrath
yield the wine of spite.

The motley speckles of attire,
a starry parody of night skies,
lighting the decorated funeral barge,
gliding along the rivers of space,
worn with the mantle of sorrow,
and it sails into the sunset,
as the Harlequin and King observe,
the mandala turns,
the bier of the Queen departing,
bears their sadness forth.

The Harlequin laughs and laughs 'til he cries,
his heart grows cold, then withers and dies,
whilst the King, statuesque, memoirs his life,
lamenting the legend of a Queen, his wife.



© Pagan Paul (24/07/18)
.
My type of caring is carelessly.
Too Gentleman like I must need therapy.
I apologize if your man show jealousy.
I will step back farewell to you and me.
Showed you part two and this is three.
There may be a four and five.
If this poem explores everyones mind.
And gets enough views to survive.
I leave it to you to decide.
I speak the truth over any lies.
I like that you view my poems with your beautiful eyes.
Just an Intro
Tammy M Darby Aug 2018
The yearning gentleman journeyed near and far
Hoping to acquire his long-sought heart's desire
Pictures carefully painted from a copy of a euphoric time
A multitude of young memories drawn from an aging mind

From storybooks he conjured up the delicate princess and the pea
Next came the white-eyed fairy beauty sailing deep lavender seas
Red headed was the other with eyes of fire
Nought satisfied his slowing blood
And hearts desire

Life with a light kiss
Sprinkled upon him a touch of madness and sublime
Flung before him mountains with invisible peaks to climb

Sympathetic were the gods in their mercy
In forever withholding the knowledge
Alas there were no princesses to rescue
And no more fire breathing dragons

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Aug. 8, 2018
I wear pajamas
when I go to bed,
one button-up shirt
and drawstring pants
both the color of
light blue sky
they're a gift
from my Mom.
I feel complete
wearing them,
I'm ready to
fall asleep.
It's rare in this world
to ever feel so confident.
When I put on these pajamas
I'm a gentleman practicing
the art of
a good night's sleep,
call me Aaron no more,
only Mr. Brown for now on.
When Beauty comes around sometimes you just have Stop and Admire it. You never know when you’ll see it again.
                                -Understanding Gentleman

I want to talk to you half of me say, “I shouldn’t” and the other half say, “I should”.
I’ll just be patient until my mind say, “I could”
                                                  -Aaron L. Osgood

I could be your type! Depending on what flavor do you like?
I like to play games but not with your mind or heart. I’m talking video games, I’m ready to start!
I’m a mystery and A special person..if only I could specify.
                                                   -Jus_”DatGuy”
I’m just Me and in Love with a Beautiful Lady
I wonder what you’re thinking
When you look at me
Are you a perfect gentleman
Or are you ******* me
With your eyes
They say a penny for a thought
But are these things that can’t be bought
Am I like the dust you sweep
Under the rug
Expecting company
Keeping me a secret
Or am I not in your thoughts
Do you look right through me
As your eyes burn into me
With someone else in mind
04/25/2017
Today is a bad news day
And, despite the outward folding memories
Seeking a place for themselves,
Probably no time for a Poem. But,

Only ten minutes ago I walked a hillside,
For the first time
Knowing you were gone,
And the wind found me and made me cry.

It is in the voice of the tongue caring lies;
And the quiet whispers which ask the most.
As you always said, Mate, after asking the right question
Life really is just a question of answers.

I miss that memorable night of comic, even cosmic highs,
With some vintage Port and board of cheese,
You took up the Times and said with with throw away ease -
“ Finally, Life As We Know It is over... well, it's no longer in the papers at least”.
Great Pal, raconteur, Folk music enthusiast, and Port drinker. Cheers, Pete!
Sardonic god roaming free,
In search of divine his comedy.

Sly gentleman with a wicked grin;
Foreboding figure, philanthropic sin.
L B Apr 2017
Somehow it wasn’t right to cry
for someone who
no one knew—for years
though everyone knew about Lil
She was the crazy burden
of an orphaned family
whose memories rearrange the winter shadows

“Are we dressed right?
Are our faces adequately sad?”

They loved the skinny, happy kid
Loved—the ones who loved her
knew her from “The Old Neighborhood”

Two sisters approach the body
echoed in black and navy
holding each other’s hand
They look down at her—
They look her over
They overlook—“The Old Neighborhood”
of the Lillian they had hoped for—
took care of as a child....

And in the din of last respects
a comment from an older gentleman—

The Goldrick girls were all such lookers

So I was her niece
and not from “The Old Neighborhood”
I have memories of my own....

I was rich when Lil brought play money
from Misquamicut
She brought whelks and slipper shells too
My ear cupped close
I first heard the sea

Not as beautiful as I expected
nor as beautiful as I would know
She gave them with love—without telling
where and when that I would go....

Her hands were always cool and sweaty
Always trembling
Always a cigarette
and an argument in the background

From the height of three
and hugging knees
I see her face against the ceiling’s
white—with panic

Her eyes are never with me
I know someone is with her

The Goldrick girls were all such lookers....”

Beleaguered beauty
Frail, with stiff grace
she glances sideways
Checking for my safety?

“Our names too close! Confused too often!”

I was to know her horror— as I know her sea

...Her laughter, too late for the conversation
a smoky hysteria
that will not share with her eyes
She stumbles backward through her childhood
as if she has mislaid something

She wants to go roller skating
with her sister, eight months pregnant
besieged by diapers
with stew on the back burner

...And Lil wants to go back...
to a time at the Rialto
to the *****’s boogie

to the edge—before
The Depression declared WAR—

on someone who
no one knew
for years!

And is it okay yet?
...to let her sea out of me!

It burns so!
Sequel to "Hey Kid"
multi sumus Aug 2018
Hollow shoes in hallowed halls
This sunswept maze where shadows fall
upon the stones which lie beneath my feet

Through the doorway thresh is held
By bated breath
and faith dispelled
my faculties restrained i do entreat

For many a moon has passed since last ive cast mine eye upon that has such beauty uncompared to any other

Chaos thought
A thousand dream
With hastened heart
Although it seems
i seek not her a Love
but yet a Lover

          They began to whisper...

   Which shall speak that her gaze may fall upon Us?
   And to what voice heard will her hand reach forth?

   Be it by pillowed tone her heart be swooned?

   Nay, But with intellect and eloquence shall she be found appeased

   And what of charm found south with a hint of gentleman drawl?

   Or does she desire a tumble and rough to take hold and charge her?

   Perhaps raw and silent with mystery air, allowing her curiosity to draw her near Hahaha!

Ahh humor, Yes a quick travel in, entertain her that she may be...Tickled


Cease this banter
Silence
Still
Strength within
Bend
Break i will not
follow in Your footsteps any longer!

Now bold am i
Through time and times
With patience prayer
and then i find
That that which destroys not    
just makes me stronger

So with humble speech and subtle grin
Repore is built
Then questioning
"Opportunity may i have to call upon you?"

Refuse me not
My dear i pray thee
Words amassed
Forgive and let be
known they're spoken only unto few


And within the shadow They murmured
Each by Their turn...

   Bound by silken thread and silent tongue?

   Nay, By soft and sweetened lips shall We speak unto her flesh
Be not word nor sound that echoes in those ears but merely whispers to her soul

   Mmm, inch by inch shall she be ravished, Savoring every delicate morsel, And feasting upon her succulence shall We find solace

   Oh! That We be granted leave to bestow upon her such pleasures

   Pleasures yes! And through pain she will know them!

   Release Us That We may consume!

Deny Us not for We hunger!


NAY! the scream
though not aloud
Consent withheld
within a shroud of
mystery to why the unacception

So unto the lock
the bars do hold
These "demons" kept  
since times of old
speech silent to avoid any detection.
Zeeb Jul 2018
New Orleans has its Oaks, the most beautiful in the world
The Oaks they had an occupant, little squawky squirrel
Squawky squirrel stepped out one day, cross the street he made his way
And if he hadn’t changed his mind, he’d still be here today

The widow sweet Ms. Peters, did receive a call
From a handsome gentleman, who went by the name of Paul
Ms. Peters had been interested, in Paul’s cautious advance
But decided she would wait a while, not to take a chance
Now Paul has found his one and only
Ms. Peters spends her nights quite lonely

Oh yes the case of the pretty pilot
Just seventeen in a flying machine
The weather turned black so she headed back
But her boyfriend intervened

Now close if I may - here's what I say
Trust yourself - the odds break your way
Arisa Mar 2
To be a gentleman in a Chatroom,
One must always introduce themselves as a number.
As an age.
To inform the fine maidens of the Chatroom that,
'Yes! I am legal.'
So that way they feel obliged to tell you:
'Why, I am too!'

You must also accompany such a number with your gender.
Just so that they won't get confused,
And know that you are a
masculine
manly man
of manliness.

It is of the Gentleman's Etiquette to note your existence afterwards.
A simple 'Here' would suit.
Or spice it up with a
'You?'
Afterwards.

Make sure you always ask how your possible future **** partner is feeling, it's only polite. If they say
'I'm feeling wonderful, how about you?'
or
'My day's been ghastly. How about yours?'
- No matter what the answer, make sure to reply with a steady:
'Nothing much', or if you're feeling impatient, 'nm'
Just to show that no, you don't really care
and want to get straight into business.

- Which shows that you are a man with a clear goal in mind, and as we all know, women adore men with confidence!

The next step is the bargain.
You need to sell yourself to the feline with flair,
Ferocity,
Wit, style, charisma.

'Wanna ****?'

And if they reject your courteous advances, all you can do is tip your hat and carry on to the next lady in waiting.
"21, M here."
Chatrooms are hellholes full of people who want to ******* and nothing more.
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
The first main character did not last over the final solo.
the self-assured, quick-witted, skilled and passionate
The earliest appearances were the famous story
the secret organization belongs to an old school
An early American market liked the rugged agent
the stereotypical English gentleman designed the first season
The hidden steel plate concealed in the Bowler hat
An old world sophistication came to the traditional Englishman
the post production scenes were filmed in the studio
The awkward verbal shorthand gave rise to the character's name.
A fourth transmission was to the dead chessboard;
the lighter comic touch had a harder tone,
the serious espionage dramas disappeared
the fantasy elements known as The killer robots
an elaborate leather uniform becomes her signature outfit
a softer new wardrobe was bought
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. - source https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Avengers_(TV_series)
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