"ignobleness" poems - Hello Poetry

I wish to peer at Paris, under-dressed and ***** in all of its neoclassical splendor. For that, there are things I would give up. I wish to see a prehistoric forest, verdant, overgrown and jumbled. Before evergreen mysteries I would be ever humbled. For that, there are things I would give up. I wish to see Rhodian gardens and from them, smell the flowering fig and taste succulent honey suckle. I wish to glimpse zaftig temptresses dancing twenty thick amidst courtyards of ancient Persian palaces. For that, there are things I would give up. I wish to be blessed into an inenarrable life on an unalike mysterious planet. I wish for an Atlas resembling and proportionate soul. For that, there are things I would give up. I've demanded an even temperament from my unruly emotions. I've settled for continuous disbelief at the loquacious ignobleness of humanity. For change, there are things I would give up. I've sequestered my innocent dreams and bloomed monetary means. I've avoided death narrowly, my fingers gripping, fear will always transfix, while barreling down 36'. I've inhaled profits and installed transformation. For change, there are things I would give up. I've burned my midnight oil, taken offensive slander, and burned bridges with gratuitous candor. I've witnessed coal falsify a beautiful gloaming sky. I've had gasoline dreams filled and fuming with intensity, all drowning under an ocean of oil. I've envisioned bleached beaches to hide stained soil. These are moments I would give up. There are things I've realized outside my reality, outside my internal soliloquy and physical tactility. I've come to understand my words are nothing more than symbols on a closed door.

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Jul 26, 2010

Jul 26, 2010 at 11:54 PM UTC

B_Lid

For That There Are.

I wish to peer at Paris, under-dressed and ***** in all of its neoclassical splendor. For that, there are things I would give up. I wish to see a prehistoric forest, verdant, overgrown and jumbled. Before evergreen mysteries I would be ever humbled. For that, there are things I would give up. I wish to see Rhodian gardens and from them, smell the flowering fig and taste succulent honey suckle. I wish to glimpse zaftig temptresses dancing twenty thick amidst courtyards of ancient Persian palaces. For that, there are things I would give up. I wish to be blessed into an inenarrable life on an unalike mysterious planet. I wish for an Atlas resembling and proportionate soul. For that, there are things I would give up. I've demanded an even temperament from my unruly emotions. I've settled for continuous disbelief at the loquacious ignobleness of humanity. For change, there are things I would give up. I've sequestered my innocent dreams and bloomed monetary means. I've avoided death narrowly, my fingers gripping, fear will always transfix, while barreling down 36'. I've inhaled profits and installed transformation. For change, there are things I would give up. I've burned my midnight oil, taken offensive slander, and burned bridges with gratuitous candor. I've witnessed coal falsify a beautiful gloaming sky. I've had gasoline dreams filled and fuming with intensity, all drowning under an ocean of oil. I've envisioned bleached beaches to hide stained soil. These are moments I would give up. There are things I've realized outside my reality, outside my internal soliloquy and physical tactility. I've come to understand my words are nothing more than symbols on a closed door.

25

Now the cuttlefish is a curious little critter, not above shenanigans because these naughty little things indulge in oral *** What? Well, yes, the male pops his hectocotylus into the female’s mouth and halleluja, does his thing right there, without shame or any ignobleness. And the female? Well, she doesn’t waste or swallow this although she goes round other males and solicits more deposits for her clutch. Eh? Such wantonness. Really. But this precociousness is just the way they like it and shows us there are many different ways to indulge in coitus. That's right, just simply liking lots of hectocotylus right down to, but properly, stopping short of her esophagus. Without any further apophasis, obviously, nature thinks that this is efficacious. Now, I'm not a marine biologist, but I think this bodacious little cuttlefish is amazing and audacious. Mike T Minehan

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Feb 25, 2022

Feb 25, 2022 at 9:07 PM UTC

mike-t-minehan

Now the Cuttlefish

Now the cuttlefish is a curious little critter, not above shenanigans because these naughty little things indulge in oral *** What? Well, yes, the male pops his hectocotylus into the female’s mouth and halleluja, does his thing right there, without shame or any ignobleness. And the female? Well, she doesn’t waste or swallow this although she goes round other males and solicits more deposits for her clutch. Eh? Such wantonness. Really. But this precociousness is just the way they like it and shows us there are many different ways to indulge in coitus. That's right, just simply liking lots of hectocotylus right down to, but properly, stopping short of her esophagus. Without any further apophasis, obviously, nature thinks that this is efficacious. Now, I'm not a marine biologist, but I think this bodacious little cuttlefish is amazing and audacious. Mike T Minehan

34

Gravedigger of my innocence Weeping mother grieves Thoughtless and dressed in black Irises no more than two little thieves Poking out under a hat His physique held greater than I Hadn’t an intention of innocence Hands stole more than eyes And his grasp had a certain brittleness I’m soup accompanied by bread Catering his needs My cauldron body ***** Read the recipe he didn’t read Allowing myself harm So I wouldn’t be furthered Myself I disarm I beg, I won’t be murdered A grand feast after a laboring day I was neither deserved nor greatly enjoyed Whether he earned me or not He didn’t care, I was still destroyed His eyes poor people not to pity He hadn’t any grub to fill his gut I was so unwilling I left his teeth gritty He had me howling like a mutt! The gaze of a man Holds no intention of innocence But of vile thievery Telling of our ignobleness A robbery of faux passion He finished his vegetables, indeed Next time i’ll be aware of my fashion He only left me a nosebleed This world is wild, I quit! As for desert, he devoured I was a scared banana split His hands sticky like a coward A female alone Only use was his disposal Wish I would have known Why the hell was I so hopeful

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Jul 24, 2017

Jul 24, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC

allison-baxter

Dear Him (tw)

Gravedigger of my innocence Weeping mother grieves Thoughtless and dressed in black Irises no more than two little thieves Poking out under a hat His physique held greater than I Hadn’t an intention of innocence Hands stole more than eyes And his grasp had a certain brittleness I’m soup accompanied by bread Catering his needs My cauldron body ***** Read the recipe he didn’t read Allowing myself harm So I wouldn’t be furthered Myself I disarm I beg, I won’t be murdered A grand feast after a laboring day I was neither deserved nor greatly enjoyed Whether he earned me or not He didn’t care, I was still destroyed His eyes poor people not to pity He hadn’t any grub to fill his gut I was so unwilling I left his teeth gritty He had me howling like a mutt! The gaze of a man Holds no intention of innocence But of vile thievery Telling of our ignobleness A robbery of faux passion He finished his vegetables, indeed Next time i’ll be aware of my fashion He only left me a nosebleed This world is wild, I quit! As for desert, he devoured I was a scared banana split His hands sticky like a coward A female alone Only use was his disposal Wish I would have known Why the hell was I so hopeful

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