"ingenue" poems
Driven and persistent
When a girl, I was undaunted
On acting I was insistent
By the stage I was haunted
A mere ingénue
At the odds I did laugh
Until the day that I withdrew
Now that ingenue lay neath an epitaph
To myself I was untrue
Now turn back to dreams
I must pursue
Lo, I am rebuilding
Her broken spirit within
Already she is healing
Anon let the journey begin again
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 7:06 PM UTC
Ziegfield girls with Gatling guns
in complete synchronization,
decked out in Erté.
Watch your step, soldier,
for what's often considered foreplay.
Much like Peter and the Wolf,
one thing leads to another
on this daisy chain,
and as you know,
Burke's only jealous of Lorainne.
I'll tell you what,
dress warm for the ******* snowstorm,
and there'll be a place alongside
such an ingenue.
But what a terrible let down
it would be to find out
she was always smarter than you.
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 2:29 PM UTC
To be imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea,
by the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words,
provoked brooding that my comprehension of his susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen,
when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen.
By the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words!
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany,
but when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen,
I discerned this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance.
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and when I discerned that this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance,
I vowed to rectify the imbroglio for my quintessential cynosure.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance.
I vowed to rectify my quintessential cynosure of the imbroglio,
and fabricated a denouement to return her to halcyon incipient.
I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance,
until hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply.
She fabricated a denouement to return us to the incipience of halcyon
with ineffable felicity, and I remembered with ebullience my inamorata's words.
Hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply
provoked brooding that my comprehension of her susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen.
With ineffable felicity I found ebullience in my inamorata's words
and was imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
This, no song of an ingenue,
This, no ballad of innocence;
This, the rhyme of a lady who
Followed ever her natural bents.
This, a solo of sapience,
This, a chantey of sophistry,
This, the sum of experiments,--
I loved them until they loved me.
Decked in garments of sable hue,
Daubed with ashes of myriad Lents,
Wearing shower bouquets of rue,
Walk I ever in penitence.
Oft I roam, as my heart repents,
Through God's acre of memory,
Marking stones, in my reverence,
"I loved them until they loved me."
Pictures pass me in long review,--
Marching columns of dead events.
I was tender, and, often, true;
Ever a prey to coincidence.
Always knew I the consequence;
Always saw what the end would be.
We're as Nature has made us----hence
I loved them until they loved me.
2.3k
A painting illuminated
by the moon so gracious
giving life to a distant memory
of a melancholic ingenue.
A falling angel
caught by a mortal creature,
depicted her desperation
to fix a broken picture.
For the man that defies
the line of their friendship state.
For the man that gave his all
to win her heart whatever it takes.
She will paint this subject all over again,
to express how much he means to her.
For the love she can't reciprocate in reality,
in a painting she'll transform into probability.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
When I first met Skully,
I was an ingenue in a silly fragile plastic body--
a nursery flat, a starter bed,
not yet Anne Of Queer Gables
magnificently not giving a ****
Back then,
I believed that Skully was stuffed like a bell pepper,
jammed to bursting with thoughts, dreams and
wisdom on every subject;
I didn't know, as we lay together under the ceiling fan,
that he was as vacant and distant as outer space.
He PEZed me kisses, bought me roomsful of useless junk,
and twisted me silly like a bonsai tree.
I let him.
Daydream starlets and archery targets both have curves,
and sit still for the incoming--
I spent a decade with Skully that way,
as if I'd done it with a porcupine and was proud of the damage.
Now, he sits like an unfortunate date brought to dinner--
big-eyed as a girl, smiling too much,
and adding nothing to the conversation.
Still, I can't bear to throw him out,
and so the dogs lug him around like a trophy,
scoring and striping him with their joyful teeth marks
and losing his mandible under the fold-out sofa.
My girlfriends tolerate him.
After all, he's dead, and won't start any stupid crap about threesomes.
The next door kids ask for him sometimes,
and they bowl him at empty pop bottles in the driveway.
I confess, though,
that late at night, when it's stormy, and I'm alone,
I pause before bouncing him down the basement stairs, and I say,
"Thank you, Skully,
for keeping me from having to be alone
in the years before I bloomed into my need for heart, flesh, soul,
and not just solid bone."
Then I lay one on his grinning kisser
and even add a little tongue
just to tease him
for the lack that made me leave him like a southbound bird
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 12:07 PM UTC
racing through the night
fast as light,
toward the great unknown,
the little acorn nut was
reminded of the old adage,
"hang on to your hat"
and so she did.
first stop was to the factory
where well crafted &
educated hands
stroked her smooth grain
& magnificent wood,
so long hidden,
standing so long un-admired.
at last the day came,
she was loaded upon the truck,
so very carefully,
gentle to not mar
nor bump,
as she was moved.
reaching the city,
all the brights lights,
the city trees dotted
the avenues
and huge grand park,
spurning the excited hi's
of this little country
bumpkin.
but she would not dally,
nor carry on, with
the highend bookcases,
chairs, tables and others,
living floor after floor
above the city.
those in the penthouses
holding the works and books,
those rubbing shoulders
and bums,
with the highfalutin
literary few.
the poets & artists & writers
that deign to look down on
poor you.
every night,
under the light,
she laid there beaming,
her beauty so deep
for all to see,
gleaming.
no diva, nor screeching ingenue,
puffed up egotisical baffoon,
or shrew,
could bring her down.
for she knew,
that without her,
there could be no show.
for without her,
in all her floor glory,
there simply
would be
no stage!
and the little acorn nut
was glad!
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
Is substance abuse that grim:
the instant I use you lights dim
like they want my muse to trim
her figure in darkness--
Blow the candles out with a kiss:
show a dancehall how to fill a floor with
slow hands-and-all antics
while my mind sinks in you--
Take me deep within nirvana:
make me sleep in a hug sauna
maybe I'd keep in mind on a
frigid Friday night--
So bare with me if I overdose:
Be there lines that blow over my nose,
I care not if they slide me into comatose...
The high that is you,
an ingenue but of substance,
a drug to pursue...
**** me with an overdose.
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 9:38 AM UTC
Tourist, who gave her eyes
to the fishes and the sharks.
Ingenue queen of the lingering darkness.
Tourista, chain smoking in the rain.
Perfumed winds blow from her mouth
dizzying the Phoenician sailors with longing for her shores.
And the moths circle,
searching for her cable knit heart.
And I will go back to my darling,
my darling tourista,
when you my darling are gone.
Us being strangers of the night
and enemies in hollow places.
Tourista prays to ooze juicily
at last round the bearded lips of God.
Tourista swallows sleep
and swallows deep.
Tourista lost in translation
between valley girl slang and punk rock idols.
Pushing pushing pushing, push em.
Tourista of the long white neck, neglected.
Free of love nibbles and nicotine kisses.
Though she longs for their ghosts
and strokes the scars of their cousins.
Her screaming, rolling head full of tinder and ready to ignite.
Like the loveliest of hand grenades.
Tourista who's heart swells and empties with the tides,
all Jackson Pollucked up inside.
The punch line of every joke. The object of every desire.
And tourista rattles with wheezing.
Tourista vacant. Accepting reservations.
Calling dimly she prays to the highway dogs
and hound dogs and squealing pups.
Tourista of the pure soul, sprinkling ****** lamplight
like vestal seeds.
Though she implores every living thing to dampen the flame.
Hold tight, says tourista, happiness is surely near.
But she hides it away in her bedside table and hopes she will forget.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 1:41 AM UTC
It's been so long since I fell in love I'm afraid I don't have a heart
It's been so long since I've written of a man like a work of art
Wasn't I your ingenue?
Your sweet treat angel muse
You'd press your lips so hard upon my skin it'd leave a bruise
My lover, I could sketch the angles of your face all day long
and you could sing me a song, my Orpheus
Throat coated in honey, put it under my tongue
Hypnotize me till I'm helplessly sprung and strung along
I can't recall I can't recall (the last time I fell in love)
I wonder I wonder did I love you at all?
Press your fingertips upon my heart and leave a mark
I'll heal within a month, forget we ever loved
Did I love you at all? Does your heart bear the markings of a turbulent changeling, a lover worth singing of?
Did I dream you up? A pathetic school girl's fantasy
O my darling, draw me away
Feb 12, 2023
Feb 12, 2023 at 12:48 AM UTC
Look, there goes the Alley cat
Hear her strangled meowing
It don't beguile, for it is vile
Much like a sewer flowing
Ladies of the evening
Women of the street
Would blush and be embarrassed
To hear such trick or treat!
I'm upset, cuz I don't get
How that foul mouth can EAT!
But there's a strange compulsion
Which comes like a deluge
Her smiles gay, but don't defray
The *Battle of the BULGE*
Like felines she vocalizes,
Is her life like that?
If she's raw, and long of claw,
Is she like a cat?
How far will she let you?
How far will she GO?
Perhaps she battles demons
No-one else can KNOW
Myself, I can't condemn her
She had substance abuse
But she's not free, cuz she can't see
That SCINO'S not the TRUTH!
And she's a Public Figure!
Little girls look up to her!
She doesn't seem to know this
Did it not occur?
She cusses like longshoremen
Refuses to see
That she's made a grave mistake
In Scientology.
Does she believe they're helping?
This Science of the Mind?
Lord above! If she does
Then she's completely BLIND!
You're responsible, my lady.
Do you know that you teach?
The modern young, and they *become
The little slaves you PREACH!*
Miscavige isn't awesome
Scientology's *NOT "COOL".*
It's wicked beyond belief!
You're being *played the FOOL!*
Whatcha gonna do, girl?
You're an ingenue no more.
Do you doubt? *Gigs DO RUN OUT*
Will you play the *****
"Ah, NO!" You may be thinking
From my stance I shant tumult!
A cow, I'll graze, I'll be unfazed!
There's always the CULT!
But, dear, a storm's a'brewin
A tsunami of *greatsize*
They pamper you and praise you
But it's a *web of LIES!*
What will you do when flooded?
Will you weep and cower?
David's boat won't stay afloat!
It ain't no IVORY TOWER!
Baby, don't you get it?
Or are you just that THICK?
You will die, and then you'll FRY
A moth unto a WICK.
God has a sense of humor
Yep. He surely DOES!
AND YOU WON'T BE PROTECTED.
He don't help folks "just because...
My advice? For what it's worth?
I'll put in my two cents.
Leave that God forsaken CULT!
GET HUMBLE AND REPENT!!!
Sugar, whatcha stay there for?
Their ratings goin' SOUTH
Just believe and you'll receive...
Then, *clean up your MOUTH!*
Catherine Jarvis
aka SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/20/2017
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 5:50 AM UTC
I did not know your eyes were blue
Small suns ring your pupils
perihelion
As you come closer
You become significant
light blurs my vision
Polarizing sun
Perpendicular conscience
Horizontal will
~~~
Eyes wide
Ingenue again
You make my toes curl
~~~
Apollo is come
Dionysus cuts loose
Cassandra moans
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
**** you
and your indecisiveness
Your mysterious demure caught my glance
You twisted, and dissembled my sight
Wrapped up in your eloquence
Believing in good intentions
Our evanescent love lasted only a moment
If it existed at all
Your nearness to me was made insignificant by your blithe nonchalance
And here I remain
An ingenue
Fooled again, lured in by your perplexing,
Negligent attitude towards life,
Towards me
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
The blur of the subway reflection inspired me to
Inspired me to, to believe in
The crimson blood that flowed within you
You and your hollow valentines card veins
The bite of the winter wisps of wind asked me to
Asked me to, to remember if
Your embrace was the dagger sugar coated blue
The first icicles to fall in January’s pain
The drip and dance of the winter medication forced me to
Forced me to, to make love against
The memories that held me close within the heart’s decadent hue
I never asked for his real name
The salt and citrus that embraced the tequila motivated me to
Motivated me to, to waste tears upon
Your deep violet royalty and my role as the ingenue
I only wished to offer you a red paper crane
The pallor of my skin introduced me to
Introduced me to, to the truth
And nothing but the truth, so help me God, I cooed
Drive me somewhere beautiful, a place I cannot blame
The final echo of your weary voice released me to
Released me to, to an apocalyptic city
The street was reduced to a cemetery so I choose the avenue
The four horsemen galloped in the sanctuary of the bus lane
The loneliness of restless half-hearted dreaming lead me to
Lead me to, to a crystal forgotten river
It stretched through the city and the city’s shoes
Winding in and out like a vagrant gone insane
A switching staircase indebted me to
Indebted me, to the essence of humanity
It explained all is made so that it can be broken through
No river shall ever flow without rain
The bright of the afternoon convinced me to
Convinced me to, to stand before the mirror
Bright eyes and shaking lips sparkled wet with diamond dew
She blamed cupid’s arrow for it was surely improperly aimed
A lover, half asleep and half in dreams, insisted me to
Insisted me to, to scream until I collapse
It was the only sound I could honestly make to begin anew
He promised without shame
The blare of the harsh siren in the night awoke me to
Awoke me to, to a dream I once believed
The vivid coloration and forms were an artistic witch’s brew
I’ve been to love, so I’ve been to war and I shall never be the same
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
I release a rich, mulberry cloud of a sigh into the atmosphere of the nine-by-nine dominion I call "Home". Within it sleeps the ingenue that I long-thought was the apex of my quasi-mature, teenage heart. It and she will soon brood alone in the blackest heights of the room. I couldn't see the ceiling with the Hubble bolted to the floor.
I never knew being light felt this good. My desultory dalliance left scars on my shoulders, notches for her to hang her sloth-arms upon. I undress. I lower myself to the ground. The more my skin kisses the marble, the less woebegone my bones feel. Warmth radiates from the marrow into my lymph nodes. The heat spills out from my body and onto the ground, reaching for each corner of my icy bungalow. From below me, the marble murmurs in a hum as soothing as petrichor:
I have missed this warmth.
For too long I've been frozen,
I have missed your warmth.
Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 11:06 PM UTC
Do shadows clash?
With a light's, oracle...?
Should we intone, the sleep of passion?
Still in a night's touch, is love a suspense of, milk?
Miracles that reach for chastity...
Have a naming game in mind, for heed
Peek, poorer for a question's vanity
Of the solace of a wish, for another wish to lead...
We are the silence, the ghost
Of a need's chance, you know
Like a sojourn, with a dread's host
The place of reason, has become a you...
Rage, rationalize this...
Quiet of subtle time, forms
A vivid accusation, has become a lover's kiss
Ready to keep it all, in the hand of norms
Breath of worth, later
The might of wishes will become a lover's fate
Now in the presence and prayers, of honor sated
By the shy sight of ingenue, will we know the blessing of a wishes privacy?
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 12:08 PM UTC
You call and say I'm aberrant
You don't wanna be stuck indoors deviating
I don't like your storms
I miss your floodwaters
I need an affectional sleet
I miss your earthquakes
Then you came with all your quaking
You must think I'm an aftershock
You must think I'm abnormal
Now I can't find the volcanism without you
Volcanism without you
Queer and two
Like the ingenue over slew
Subthalamic and cuckoo
And I'm dancing because you're undue
Twisters ain't nothing when I'm betraying with ya
Gay
Do you mind if I steal a permafrost?
I miss your downdrafts
Calamities are not safe
I don't like your cataclysms
And every homosexuality is failsafe
Then you came with all your frothing
You must think I'm a calvinism
It's time we had some infernos
Will you hold me tight and not go flaming
You don't wanna be stuck indoors backtracking
When I'm shaming with ya
Shaming with ya
When I'm with you, all I have is inappropriate thoughts
It's time we had some embarrassments
I'm rebuking 'til dawn
Na na na na gay
Na na gay
Like the tray over buffet
Na na na na gay
Like the valet over heyday
Transgender and ok
Got more halfway
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 5:59 PM UTC
You were nothing but a furtive dalliance.
Our days were conflated with a demure attitude.
I’m an ingenue.
And you are an imbroglio.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
You called it our baby
And I sung it into life
The first word in its ear
The song of all our strife.
I am the ****** queen
No man to make me rule
Your underestimated dream girl
Your perfect ingenue.
You called the sounds
The good sounds
And from the rock came death
And all the sad destruction
And all our baited breath
And all the holy discord
And every frightened dream
And bare breasted, I move on
Like water in the stream.
You called me your baby
And swan-songed ever sweet
I went along with every gamble
Til you tasted defeat.
I am the queen of snakes
The Pythia, obscured
The maiden, mother, mistress, crone
The one that’s never heard.
You called my body
A celestial body
And from the sky came rain
And in the eclipsing silence
You never heard my pain
And all the holy hatred
And all the washed up dreams
And now, I alone move on,
Like water in the stream.
Sweet Pythia, I’m burning
And I must find the way
The lonely heart has never learned
How to make him stay.
But he is not contention
He is only choice
The songs I sang for many men
Only make him love my voice.
And you call these sounds
The good sounds
When the good sounds please you best
The sounds when they adore you
Not the aggressive ‘I digress’
And all the holy Heras
And all the built in rust
And I, without armies win battles
And you without care, **** trust.
I am the mistress, maiden, crone
All dolly-eyed and blue
Your manic little angel
Your perfect ingenue.
I am the maiden, mother, crone
And now apart from you
Because no one is anything
And nothing you heard is true.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
You always leave out the end.
The part where the dream turns into a nightmare,
When the bodies turn to dust in your hand
Where what you thought were clothes were just threads.
The one where everything shrunk in the wash and all your favorite shirts are too tight on your ribcage.
You'll leave out the end
Hoping it won't come.
I never told you I live a synesthetic life
That we see red differently.
What appears to you as the fires of passion,
I can only see as a burning flame.
You skipped class on all the days a girl came in crying.
You keep drowning in waters that were never meant to hold you
And reaching for the first thing that looks like a lifeboat.
You pretend not to see the cracks in my hull
As if your broken words could ever heal my broken frame.
I pretend not to see the way your eyes still light up at the sound of her name.
Didn't anyone ever tell you you can't make homes out of people?
Why did no one warn you about the danger of resting your head where it cannot permanently lay?
You were the ropes I tied myself to the train tracks with
But all you could see in me was the beginning that the ending of her erased.
And how can you tell me you understand
When you've only ever looked at me like a paperweight?
I'd hold you down until you were ready to let yourself be used again,
And then you'd leave me to sit and collect dust with all the others who were never enough to put the pieces back together for you.
Someday the end will feel like an accustomed coffin
And though you'll never quite fit comfortably,
You'll let it bury you,
Sitting dully in the dark of the Earth,
And you'll learn to only see the stabbing edges
As another numbing pain.
The apples in your garden will have all turned to snakes.
Roll my body in the rug or bury me under the floorboards.
I'll listen to your footsteps
Like a Heartbeat you swore would mean more if it stopped.
I'll sleep below
While the radio static sings lullabies only you can hear.
Lay me to rest under the floorboards
A funeral for a love never destined to last.
Lay me to rest under the floorboards we danced on,
But don't you dare drown me.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
Speak your wondering mind;
Lost and untold,
Let us unwind the fractured fragments,
Belittled sensed and reconfigure'd, that
Lived there.
Comatose and disfigured,
In absinthe,
Like star shine in a beautified
Distilled ease;
Touched and caressed by the
Breeze;
Calming your disease(s)
Breathing peace, precious, like emeralds and
Opals.
A mind once misused; Now an
Ingenue, configuring sparks of delight, making
Tempered pain among the night.
Stuck with strawberry's sight.
I sip on honeydew and pray
In my mind some
Lavish desires colored
Maroon (on fire); some
Sweet'nd mystical umpire calling my name and
Igniting my life aloud!
With proud, glistening oceans of
Dreams,
I am estranged;
Lost within a living cruel
Misconception of
Fairy tales in my heart
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC
i
The quiet crypt amongst the goblin's and ghoul's
I secretly wander, an isolation love tomb;
And in this mausoleum, I expatiate the catacomb
Crooning mine soft echoe's, as mine painful shadow doth moan.
ii
Mine doppelganger of heartbreak, lingers aloft the mist
I seeketh for another ghost lover, just one apple kiss;
A globules of amour, I beggeth for just one tiny pinch
I beseech for a peach, one bite inside her flowery glimpse.
iii
An ingenue of cosmos venue, a juncture of cheribum Host's
The lightning bug's, to be as ourn love, lighting up the ghost's;
Bonjour from me, none Au revoir from her, a delightful play
One of mi amour', as lightning dances, and fairies art Prancer's.
iv
The universal relic, to be ourn set, the curtain closed, sweet duet
She calleth me king, I calleth her pet, lass of day, lad of the nest;
And whilst the pest's, tryeth to cut ourn wings, well standeth tall
And whilst we standeth, we'll grabbeth all there is to bring.
v
A dwelling place, in her amulet of both of ourn beating heart's
Never away, none distance, none evil or lies to keepeth us apart;
Lineal scout's, of what life's all about, leaving fear's in the out
And walking the galaxy, leaving step's, heaven awoke, undressed.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
Precocious, finding a love
In the bared morn, a hat to liberty
Seldom in league, fame is a corner of us
True, the notion to fend for essentiality
Count me in, a friend will notice
The taste in harmony and new pasts
To a climate of sense, serious enough
To limit one more stare to avarice...
To the common ground
Of a silent watch, for better call, to contrary
Sake, we deem the curious without a sound
Meant like a ghost of reality, the truth to carry...
A hint of a clue to worry for a besmirched eye
Known naked like a shrewd patience was...
See the coiling heat of me, when the silence has died
Will a lovers flower land on the needs, succinct does?
**** terror in the frown of ingenue
Spoken worlds of decision, to look for a paradises crowd
Hope and chastity, will the run fast or few?
Letting tongues remember their gifts, we see a legend proud...
Tales of the adding
Tales of supremacy come to a tout
Of what was, a hap in the skew of misery profound enough, linger
With me, when the careful ability of an energy, is in route
Past, present, future
Compared in a heavenly guise, of choice and meagerer sorts
Let like a flicker of light, in the behalf of a wish, so curious
Made by solemnity, to live the life of privilege, of the times we were
Mar 31, 2023
Mar 31, 2023 at 2:40 PM UTC