"nicety" poems
Forget chivalry
Forget familiar nicety
Best tread carefully
I'm not my usual me
I'll not be the hero... Doing good
Simply because I'm in no mood
I'll go about my business
Steer clear, don't be careless
No sweet chirping of birds
Only sarcasm laden words
I'll wear no smile... Only smirks
Behind which may hold sharpened dirks
Don't waltz into my space
Like you know your place
Don't think I won't lash
Don't think I won't be brash
No 'Mister Niceguy'
Just let this day go by
With no alarms, no surprises
No incidents, no clashes
I might be back tomorrow
But today you must know
As I lace my steeltoed boot
Today I don my antihero suit
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
She says he wasn’t good enough.
He wasn’t worth it.
I try to convince myself
she’s right,
that he’d pay attention
if he were worth anything
but that’s a nicety,
an obvious misconception.
There must be
something wrong with me.
There must be
some things wrong with me.
Somethings wrongs with me.
If there wasn’t, he would like me.
or text me back.
He won’t text me back.
She says he doesn’t want to look desperate.
So I am searching, desperately,
for the words I said
the words I forget
that turned him off.
Was it because we had ***
He said it wouldn’t change anything.
He said he had always liked me.
He said what he had to
to get me in his bed,
and now there's no text,
no call,
I don't see him,
hear him,
feel him,
but somehow I can't move on.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
It’s overwhelming.
The urge to scream,
and scream until my lips turn blue.
And my throat grows red,
and my hair stands straight up as though I were hit by lightning.
The will power
used to contain my never ending exasperation,
along with frustration,
is enough to shut down
all of the nuclear power plants in France;
although a meltdown might be more lethal.
But maybe being lethal is what I crave;
years of smiling and
moving aside built up
into an explosive pile of nicety and rage.
Light the wick,
and I promise I won’t fail to explode;
though it always seems
I’m more adept at imploding.
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 1:43 PM UTC
*We each partook of our respective
Champagne glasses almost in spot on simultaneity
Toasting to a life full of nicety
Hadn’t we been born with silver cutlery
In our mouths?
Armed with a sense of perspective
But this doesn’t guarantee an alienation of misery
We being hormonal imbalanced youths
Rational irrationality the bedrock
Of most if not all our decisions
We ourselves each other’s stumbling block
Nursing grandiose delusions.
We hence seldom ‘work ‘hand in glove
As we’re “drunk in love”.*
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
Culminating capacity
Daunting density
Varying velocity
Variable veracity
Surging sagacity
Divulging diversity
Tenable tenacity
Laudable audacity
Nurturing nicety
Progressive propensity
Unified university
Simple implicitly
Ample simplicity
Undulating atrocity
Unassailable animosity
Scaring scarcity
Pausing paucity
Causing curiosity
Generating generosity
Magnificent mega-city
Multitude of multiplicity
Pervading perplexity
Wow! City of complexity
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
Honest
He who doesn't work, works **** or just can't commit
He homeless
He an affair and a **** good fix
****** with a tendency to show underwhelming ****
Twisted into nicety by such anger at the human, the wants
Good at *** when in love
Un-abused
Un-poisened
One of my best mates like
Dyslexic thick ****
A problem
Step child and real life son, grandson always, always, grandson
eldest unappreciated, underestimated, paranioder? Paranoidist.
One of the needers of therapists
Panicked by past
Fractured by future
A depressive, doesn't drink, do drudgery like drugs
A fearfull mess mummy's boy
Fatherless
Fathered less
A letdownshowoff
overconfident,
Anxious, ex husband, probable poofter, please Goddot, please, let he be a cheater
A ex punk, definite ***** pushover, almost poet
So easily hurt, yet never hurts
My love one. (Cary you Guardian)
Too damed romantic
Cant read but by gosh buys books
Genius
artistic, Autistic, an idiot and just another bad student
manish
Little Boy
child
Unable to be alone and not a good flatmate
Justifier of the almighty grey areas,
The cheated...
the Strong willed.
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
Give me
new morns of splendid sunshine
and clear blue skies with soft wind
humming sweetly to the timeless rhythm
Give me
fresh air with gentle whispering of breeze
to be kissed passionately and tickled playfully
Give me
quiet days sans the bustle of hectic crowds
each promising new wonders and joyous tidings
Give me
country sides with luxuriant vegetation
and rich plantation to feel partitioned off
the soot and dirt of roaring cities
Give me
woodlands of varied flora and fauna
so rare and rich that nowhere else are seen
Give me
gardens and brick laid pavements
where there grow such lovely blooms, nodding amorous
to flirting dandies on colorful wings
Give me
running brooks and rushing streams
upon whose fertile banks tall trees and bushes green,
in singles and files grow
Give me
orchards, beautiful and fair
with fruit laden trees, so wonderful and rare
Give me
vast fields of ripening corn and paddy
where farmers joyfully gather to harvest their year’s toil
Give me
vineyards of trellised vine
with hanging clusters of grapes, green and maroon
Give me
ponds and wells of crystalline water
to quench the thirst and turn fallows into fecund lands
Give me
woods and forest tracks
where spring lingers all the year round and beyond
where birds on tree tops merrily sit and sing
whose harmonious notes in every nook and corner ring
Oh! Give me
Nature in all ‘its primal sanities’
And souls with nicety of hearts, free of all affectations!!
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 6:02 AM UTC
Culminating capacity
Daunting density
Varying velocity
Variable veracity
Surging sagacity
Divulging diversity
Tenable tenacity
Laudable audacity
Nurturing nicety
Progressive propensity
Unified university
Simple implicitly
Ample simplicity
Undulating atrocity
Unassailable animosity
Scaring scarcity
Pausing paucity
Causing curiosity
Generating generosity
Magnificent mega-city
Multitude of multiplicity
Wow! City of complexity
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free.
Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane.
Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety.
Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels.
Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality.
Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth.
Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea.
Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears.
The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me.
Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build.
Its lovely here.
Laughing in the lashes.
Signing my entrapment's.
Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes.
Sometimes
It just feels right to be alive.
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free.
Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane.
Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety.
Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels.
Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality.
Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth.
Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea.
Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears.
The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me.
Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build.
Its lovely here.
Laughing in the lashes.
Signing my entrapment's.
Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes.
Sometimes
It just feels right to be alive.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
A sweet nicety
Though only tasted by those who deserve it,
Sharp as a thorn
If you ever mistreat it,
Then there is no way
that you can receive it.
Sweet,
Sweeter still.
Spice,
You'd strive to feel.
Sugar,
Only one can taste.
Love,
For only one's embrace.
A blessing,
Just to see her face.
Her eyes,
Of the purest light.
To wake up,
Within her sight.
A lift,
Akin to the highest height.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 5:58 PM UTC
Nasty.
Things have started
to get nasty, people
have stopped pretending
that they are not evil
the fabric of fake nicety
has been scorched down
and we fight in the face of
a wrinkled green gremlin
whose name is many
whose language is disgust
whose heart is sealed shut
whose pride is gleaming ****
Disgusting.
How did we get here? we
huddled, tired, hungry & poor
standing at her pale jade door
being told we’re a liability
pushed out of homes we own
and families we’ve raised
to the streets, making noise
fighting though we’re so tired
It’s how they want us—
tired from years of fighting,
too tired to keep on.
But we’ll never stop.
Though their name is many,
ours is more. The teeming
multitudes arise to take
his place. We protest. We resist.
Nasty.
The gloves are off,
and we persist.
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
that tasted like popcorn
and dirt; warm, and then
Alive.
The grass separates itself into individual blades
that glitter and dance
under the sky
like a million knives
floating
on
the
afternoon
tide.
Friend, I want to grow roots with you.
I want to make a home in you.
I am as raw as a newborn.
All that my body can handle
is the sweet juice of a peach
running
down
my
neck.
I never knew the sky could open as it has,
could fill me with cloud,
and the dust of what the first atoms
have left behind for us.
My body is a torch
to light with the world of your palms.
Use dandelions
as matches.
I am stripped of all pretense, bones
free of caveat and nicety.
Now, it is time to live as an
earthworm does. Softly, naked:
on the cheek of the
earth.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
I can still be nice, even as i slice your neck.
What you lack in manners, you will earn in my respect, as all those pretty pink bubbles come bubbling out of your neck.
Nicety.
Slicing the grumpies with said mutual respect, instead somethings are better left unsaid through the smiling cleft in your neck.
Don't be nervous just yet, as the shivers nurture the onset of your ejection to Set.
Elect a breath, to let go of the mess you made, and stow the experiences of this place in your wake.
Just go the **** away.
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
I pray unto my intentions
Hoping i can
Stay the path
But i prey on my intentions
Spinning the colors
Until black
I am not the man i woke up to be
I am not the man i'm going to be
I am not the man you think me to be
I am a man on my own feet
A man of feats upon defeats
A Man of war for peace
I hang up the nicety
With the fleece
My anxiety
With the heat
And wrap myself in soiled sheets
And Freeze in rainy streets
To meet my grief
On a beat
To breathe the blame
In the same hold of the restraint
Until freed
Into captivity
Freely
I feed on feelings
From the feeling
Of falling
Falling
Flat on my face
That i wipe from the faceless cast
I am just a man in the back
Reacting
To the act
Redacting my facts
And back tracking
In pact
To devils
From the black
Of over reactions to the hacks
I am gone
And wont come back
When the wind pushes
Push back
I am there
Looking at
That
Spark
In your heart
Shining through
As everything
I knew
To be true
Changed
As i pushed through
In the end
There
Is
Only
You
The
Reflection
Of
You
Without
Truth
To
Block
The
View
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
it forever stills within the quill
the quill that never inks what will
making sense only confuses
for those who aren't looking for the thrill
my words wont shine within your light
your light is made of a delicate fight
once broken the words unspoken
will fill your blood with explosive delight
carry me now to your place, your home
I wont listen to your metronome
forgetting the tea filled with nicety
and lets dance until we are overthrown
in all your life, that bubbles in you now
age moving eyebrows into a frown
hold the tiny hand that stumbled onto this land
and walk yourself back into the unbound
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
Earths aura
more beholden
to a fortress
for a foreign sort
of torturer
held back
by a molten sphere
Told in tales of total delves
into toiled shelves of ice
that whisper nicety
while hiding
tragedies
in rings
per
slice
Frozen finites
forgotten twice
while
sliced
in two
Temperate
dichotomies
cradling hues
into truths
that,
one day
bestow
un
to
~ you
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
There are so many potentially great poems,
but the problem is they try to formalize their
pain,
as though a cancer patient upon receiving radiation,
or some car
crash victim
having a hose stuffed up his ***
and having his left foot ampuated is going to
to be formal.
sure there is dignity and composure,
but not formality,
and certainly not nicety.
you're vulnerable,
you're hurt-
let yourself scream,
let yourself out.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
Sometime a nicety
I look and I feel
and she's on the line to me
breathing
quite heavily
sometime a memory
from some time ago.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
Let's see, let me check this correctly.. So your saying you don't get me.
You don't get the creativity.
Ink to pad tapestry.
Designed words of dressed abilities.
The way words portray, feelings, thoughts emotional say.
Ahh I can slip into them like lingerie.
You need words put simply rather easily in your described way.
Well they can be worn like a pair of comfy shoes, or come with wings of expressions.
You don't want any worded thoughts of cuteness. No challenged reasonings.
Come on and try it. My words scoop them onto a spoon. Sprinkle them across the tongue.
Allow flavors to be measured drizzled with fun.
Chew on their newness. In fullness.
Their stunning like bites, makes sharp your teeth.
If you allow them to flow, they'll go oh so deep.
Have a seat,
allow me to season your mind roused with words like music under your feet.
Allow
Come
Don't retreat
Don't claim verbal defeat.
The minds willing to listen.
Spiritual ease smiling oh so nicety. heart felt words I'll say!
What's that, love how you sway, eyes glow with laughter after laughter.
Line after line.
Words are lovely when they
rhyme.
Cute and flirty poetry find.
Read me, metaphorically.
Mind and bodied lyrical I be.
Rich with diversely gently staged so cleverly.
S.A.M H.E.R_Poetry 2023
Jan 6, 2024
Jan 6, 2024 at 3:15 AM UTC
Cornered stillness
Wages of redemption, to savor a poise
Purpose is a revelation of lasts, without a bless?
For a family of thought, that has reason by the other side, of a charity of choice...
Time and harmony's privacy
Sexier hours by the cold shoulders, of a won...
Wondering by ... and the dote of a special trying
Seemly dependency of a quiet need, for decency's plan...?
Sense in the open, curiosity to venture...
One, two, three; a hat for silent opportunity?
Compare a bystander, to the questions of yore
Can a proper gayness's holiday, have presents for presence of mendacity...?
The meaning of finished smiles...
The character of sincerity, to contain an intensity's justice...
Justified by solemn stares, that confirmed a notion's while...
In the hand of virtue, still wondering if a voice is to be something greater than undue nicety...
Careful now, does home for honey for a human honor...
Sit pretty or potentialize pity?
Sit well, the nefarious eye of hope; is a promise petty...?
The lights of wonder, as if avarice or peace, is a city of essences liberty...?
With the voice of a lion...
The stir of stillness, as a word to the wise
Has the fame of nary a sakes patience, in bared eyes, directed to audacity's silence...?
All in a better smile, made from avid chance, to liberate even tomorrow's sigh's?
Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 10:45 PM UTC
A question ?
''if there is a question for me
to subscribe, to ponder and think ;
mock me and criticize till
I see the whole in me, in nicety.
I may fail till i feel ,only when
the others reflects in me their pain
and pangs and their mirth,
if they are in me ''.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 2:03 AM UTC