"nobility" poems
I still feel the distant gyrations
Of your eyes
When you’re off somewhere collecting
The marble shards
Of the skies.
And like the fall of roman nobility,
You always come again to rest
On illicit ground,
On my soft sultry breast,
Knowing that
Your past might resurface in a quick crimson breath,
Stealing you soon away
And yet,
Love is nearly as binding as death
In the provocative quiet
Of my soft bed.
For though convinced I was that we'd gone astray,
Truly fated, we were,
To this life that we've led:
To trust love no more,
Yet to love one
No less.
You're my exception, sweetheart--
A tasty poison, at best.
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
first time my father overheard me listening to
this bit of music he asked me,
"what is it?"
"it's called Love For Three Oranges,"
I informed him.
"boy," he said, "that's getting it
cheap."
he meant ***
listening to it
I always imagined three oranges
sitting there,
you know how orange they can
get,
so mightily orange.
maybe Prokofiev had meant
what my father
thought.
if so, I preferred it the
other way
the most horrible thing
I could think of
was part of me being
what ********** out of the
end of his
stupid *****
I will never forgive him
for that,
his trick that I am stuck
with,
I find no nobility in
parenthood.
I say **** the Father
before he makes more
such as
I.
from ONTHEBUS - 1992
6k
I love everything about you. I love your smell, from the way your cologne and deodorant sticks to your freshly washed skin to the way your natural musk smells when you sweat through a hot summer night stuck to me. I love how your skin is always soft, it brushes up against my thighs and cheeks like a blanket of the highest quality. Your voice is deep, but comforting and I adore all the sounds your body makes, especially the little grunts and sighs. When you speak soft words in my ear, I just melt into soft butter and I even love the way your silly words tease me, even when I get upset. Your bone structure is manly, but in a way that your body wraps around mine ideally when we hug. The way your eyes sparkle in the sunshine is like fairy dust and I could get lost in your gaze forever.
Your hand fits into mine perfectly and your tongue twists perfectly with mine when our lips collide. The movement of your hips with mine is like a metronome to my heart. All you could do is sleep and eat and I would never get tired of watching you. If you were a colour, you would be your favourite, purple, because it represents devotion, pride, mystery, magic and nobility. If you were a smell, it would be freshly cut grass on an early summer morning. Most people would say love feels like a sunny summer day, but ours is like one of those spring days where the temperature is fit for flowy dresses, but the sky is filled with some dark clouds that pass in the evening and there is a slight warm wind breezing through everyone's hair. Every single evening when you tell me you love me over the phone my stomach flutters with butterflies. As an item, you would be my favourite comfy old sweater. I love every single imperfection on your skin and in your soul. If I were to describe hanging out and having fun with you, the closest thing I could compare it to is the first bite of a freshly baked warm cinnamon pastry. I used to hate the idea of life, but if we were to create a family I would actually want to grow old with you. If there exists a heaven, it would be us sharing a fresh lemonade and chuckling next to a lake where tiny birds chirp and eat the crumbs of the bread we baked together. If you were a drink, you would be high quality whiskey and lastly, if you were a person, you would be mine.
Aug 15, 2023
Aug 15, 2023 at 6:49 PM UTC
I failed to save another soul today.
On my high patrol, I heard their last gasps leave their lips,
and I let their salvation get away
slipping through my super-powered fingertips.
If I can write assurance to a thousand souls lost, humorous and witty
"If I muster all the words that I know," I thought, "Surely I can save this city."
But life can't be measured by honeyed words, and it's agony to see
the souls' salvations that I'm missing beneath my red-caped nobility.
Even if I flew higher still, with my cape waving proud and free,
no great power I could bring to bear could match my responsibility.
For every orphan girl I save, there's another not too far afield.
For every chain broken, for every freed slave, there are chains that will not yield.
I'd fly around the world and turn back time, but I know t'would be in vain.
What's a single Superman to do, when the whole world cries to be saved?
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
Stereotypes manifesting always,
(Always)
Trying to form themselves from something once seen,
But not really believing in oneself,
I see ignorance,
I see arrogance,
I see the lack of hunger,
Observing such savage pride of life,
I run from it all into a previous state,
(Anonymity)
I've reached the heights of total in-completion,
I build walls of isolation upon myself,
I am the collateral default of widespread degradation,
I stand in the gap between teeth and consumption,
I am the breed conceived by prey and predator,
Widespread suspended animation: that is our future,
We've tried to replicate the human makeup with mechanical frames,
And the translation of electronic gates,
Yet this is a folly,
For staring at the mirrors of selected life in an artificial environment,
Numbs our lives with emulation and self delusion,
The days of nobility dismantle into fragments and sink to the bottom of the glass,
Never to be turned over again,
Scattered,
Living among remnants of a life once lived with some sort of intensity,
Now smoldered in a quite ferocity of anger beneath the surface,
(Quiet tremors coming in flames)
Because we don't live our dreams,
We stand in the shadows of ruins,
We are afraid of the future,
We are afraid of the past,
Where does that leave us?
Leave me?
I stand on the edge of The Void
I'm holding myself hostage in the self sabotage entourage of the usual suspects,
Our friends, our families,
Disconnected with all intentions of coming together,
Because they die in front of their screens,
Not really living,
Right?
Light pollution massacre...
We'll fall like stars
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
In pursuit of an elusive harmony
summer nights rolled away from us
reverberating into a numinous bass line
while reconciling our dreams
with a burgeoning truth
Flustered with desire
and walking in a non-ordinary reality. Lost within the Source
of all there is and ever was. We re-animated
navigating through portals unexplained
to retrieve this love
We plied our differences into commonality
and re-aligned our fractured selves using the agency
of synchronicity - having found
an immutable archetypal truth
and having found from where our self-portraits flow
Much more than soul mates, Plato
offers stories of Zeus splitting souls in half
as punishment for pride.
In this incarnation, have we found humility?
Will this be enough to carry us back to nobility?
It is challenging to find your way back
into a lover's arms. Mistakes haunt us eternally (if we allow for that)
but every morning if we awake
and let go, using the suns setting and rising as a reminder that
with experience, guidance, and repetition ... it gets easier
My half soul
awoke as my mortality decomposed
when half becomes one, then the real turmoil begins
from the shores of St. Mary, Raven calls
and I follow my destiny into an Obsidian Night
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
The Emperor's new shoes
Painted imitation leather, polished and treated with care
admired and envied, all eyes drawn, especially yours.
Look at me, envy me, look how I dance.
Look at my silhouette marvel at how I make you feel,
Throw yourself to me, l make you feel so true
We are elite .
Walking stronger, dancing so much faster
How fanciful I am you,free unaffected
How do I make you look and feel, the emperor's new shoes,
Legitimizing your nobility
But how I pinch, and how I hurt you, how contorted you’v become,
How you twisted and bent to fit with me,
contrived , like me ,our artificial natural .
Your need for me and performance reflecting my own.
This illusion , only granted by me.
You never really chose, i led you to believe you are some king.
Your allegiance will not be rewarded the crest has to fall,
You can not always dance for me .
Remember i am painted and cannot become worn ,
I will not become comfortable for you,
I will not become misshapen from accommodation and give.
I will not shine if you dull me, my radiance is painted ,
Only you my emperor masked our deceit.
Now i leave you barefoot .
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
I fell in love with you because you were cautious with me. You were cautious with my heart. You were nervous and aware of every little thing you did or said; you were careful with me. I fell in love with you because you were my friend. You made me laugh. I started to feel safe and comfortable being around you because of how easily we got along, how simple it was being with you, and how happy I was in your presence. I fell in love with you because you listened to me. You looked at me and never averted your gaze. You soaked in every little thing I had to say. You made me begin to realize my ideas meant something. You became the ears for every idea that I felt able to share. You gave me the ability to share myself. I fell in love with you because you shared yourself with me, too. I fell in love with you because you were way more cautious with my heart than you were with yours. You were vulnerable with me; you let me in so quickly and so deeply. If you had any walls, then I never saw them. You made me feel like I didn't need walls either. I fell in love with you because of your interests, because of your intelligence, and because of your dreams and aspirations. I fell in love with you because of your kindheartedness, nobility, and because of your unfailing honesty. I fell in love with you because of your perseverance and your patience when I became hard to please. I fell in love with you because you saw me at my worst and still made me feel beautiful. I fell in love with you because you learned my deepest, darkest secrets and insecurities and still saw me as a whole person. I fell in love with you because you shared yourself with me and I was able to love you as a whole person, too. I fall in love with you every day. I fall in love with your smile and your laugh, just like I did the first night I met you. I fall in love with the words that you say and the respectful touches that you give me when I need them the most. I love you. I love the arches in your brows when you focus; I love the curves of your smile when you're intrigued; I love the way your hands fold over mine when you walk with me. I love the sound of your voice that feels like home; I love the sky blue color of your eyes that hold my gaze; I love the words that you say that make me feel safe. I love the way you love me and hold me accountable for being who I am. I love the way you encourage me and uplift me in every way that you can. I love who you are and I always will. I fell in love with you then, I love you now, and I will always fall in love with you every single day.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 2:40 AM UTC
Hast thou named all the birds without a gun;
Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk;
At rich men's tables eaten bread and pulse;
Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust;
And loved so well a high behavior
In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained,
Nobility more nobly to repay?—
O be my friend, and teach me to be thine!
3.4k
Begging, considered
an utter humility
The ultimate indignity
Giving, regarded
An act of charity
Of utmost nobility
One hand raised
The other lowered
Sheltering a kernel
Of truth on the whole
Humility, and charity
Virtues two of the soul
the seeker and the giver
are nothing but an evidence
Of divine existence!
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
A bad King may spoil even the best of times
We fable a good King’s aid in the dark ages
In our royal age of infinite information
We have royally forgotten the meaning of knowledge
In a sapphire dungeon of instant gratification
We have misplaced the majesty of pleasure
In this kingdom of self-indulgent ignorance
We have lost the nobility of wisdom
Can any subject ever again decree:
‘Tis better, The World, without a King.
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
She sits by darkened hearth
No warmth now issues forth
Her tattered clothes look more like rags than a dress
But still she carries on
Even when hope is gone
For a princess is a princess nonetheless
If dancing at the ball
Or scrubbing floor and wall
In scullery or in carriage for a ride
Hanging linen out to dry
Or set on throne most high
None of that can ever change what is inside
For it’s not silken gown
Not scepter, sword, or crown
Nor poise to rule court with great ability
Look closer and you’ll find
A heart that’s good and kind
Are the signs of grace and true nobility
Of palaces she dreams
White horses matched in teams
With jewels agleam and in its place each tress
Though life may be unjust
She is regal in the dust
For a princess is a princess nonetheless
Jul 19, 2022
Jul 19, 2022 at 10:26 PM UTC
Why is it those with least to lose
are first to give the most
To walk the fields of Arlington
with too many other ghosts
The generations rested there
sacrificed in all those wars
Do they still feel nobility
when its lacking in the cause
For what is war but posturing
sacrificing others sons
in the name of "threats to freedom"
where most blood shed, decides who's won
Then afterward come treaty's
bits of paper end the war
and I have to ask the question
what was all the killing for?
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 9:57 AM UTC
A sign we are, without meaning
Without pain we are and have nearly
Lost our language in foreign lands,
For when the heavens quarrel
Over humans and moons proceed
In force, the sea
Speaks out and rivers must find
Their way. But there is One,
Without doubt, who
Can change this any day. He needs
No law. The rustle of leaf and then the sway of oaks
Besides glaciers. Not everything
Is in the power of the gods. Mortals would sooner
Reach toward the abyss. With them
The echo turns. Though the time
Be long, truth
Will come to pass.
But what we love? We see sunshine
On the floor and motes of dust
And the shadows of our native woods and smoke
Blooms from rooftops, at peace beside
Turrets' ancient crowns; for the signs
Of day are good if a god has scarred
The soul in response.
Snow like lilies of the valley,
Signifying a site
Of nobility, half gleams
With the green of the Alpine meadow
Where, talking of a wayside cross
Commemorating the dead,
A traveler climbs in a rage,
Sharing distant premonitions with
The other, but what is this?
By the figtree
My Achilles died
And Ajax lies
By the grottoes of the sea,
By streams, with Scamandros as neighbor.
In the persisting tradition of Salamis,
Great Ajax died
Of the roar in his temples
And on foreign soil, unlike
Patroclos, dead in king's armor. And many
Others also died. On Kithairon
Lay Eleutherai, city of Mnemosyne. And when
God cast off his cloak, the darkness came to cut
Her lock of hair. For the gods grow
Indignant if a man
Not gather himself to save
His soul, yet he has no choice; like-
Wise, mourning is in error.
Friedrich Holderlin
translated by Richard Sieburth
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
All I ever learned
of nobility I learned
from my Newfoundland
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
I'm sure you're all disappointed.
I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.
But I'm not perfect,
I'm not royal,
I'm not handsome.
I'm noble,
yes.
But nobility gets you nowhere.
I'm sure someone blew things out of proportion.
I am flawed.
I am poor.
I am ugly.
The closest I get to a royal decree,
is raising my pen or pencil in hand,
like a scepter,
in triumph of an accomplishment,
either in word or in art.
I am ugly.
I am poor.
I am flawed.
I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.
And I'm sure you're all disappointed.
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 3:17 PM UTC
She
The one
Like no other
With
The fabric of nobility
And that fire and zest
You are
More than
Just beautiful
No one could deny
With that
Exquisite grace
Mighty presence
Vibe in
As a cerebral delight
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 11:13 AM UTC
Nobility divine fills gaps of transcendence,
Soars to and from the throne heavenly,
Exalts morals near the king of ascendance,
Patrolling the good, and sons of the seventy.
A duty forgotten, replaced with dependence,
On prayers rarely heard, and logic of a herd -
Divinity is far in absence; man in attendance,
The book is a third, and teachings are blurred.
Andeliviuan corruption supposedly erased:
The creation rotten of Sariel, wanders gaily.
The holy and fallen angel’s doing embraced,
By the clay beings caressing evil like a frailly.
By God not, who from heaven him displaced.
Yet, the legacy of the wrong stands humanly,
In Thailand, America, Palestine, and all graced -
A grace of sinfulness celestial and worldly.
Religion is the poor’s only ultimate truth,
the rich’s side hustle, and the rulers’ tool;
It is the loss of power that defiles the sooth,
The one the poor has not, but does the fool.
Robbers’ servants, bread crumbs consumers,
Toothless **** dogs, emaciated lost tramps,
Little blind pawns, vultures’ puppets, tumours,
And wrenches they are, the upper hand’s lambs.
If only Raguel’s judgements fall upon man,
Raphael’s punishment beautifies this existence,
Gabriel’s wrath makes not all humans ane,
And Michael saves us, the Sarahs, in assistance.
In the heart deepened with old repression,
That mounts with plenitude of filtered feels,
Resides a universe yearning for expression,
In a meat clay who feeds on calories of meals.
Man, in the genesis, in the light, in the dark,
In prosperity, in turmoil, triumphed with vices;
vileness, abuse, wreckage is our sole mark,
On this planet whose population is in slices.
Oct 21, 2022
Oct 21, 2022 at 5:18 AM UTC
In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood--
A lord of nature weeping to a tree,
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.
What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks--is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.
A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is--
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.
Dark,dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.
2.7k
Matrilineality is the tracing of descent
through the female line corresponding
to a societal system in which each person
is identified with their matriline;
– their _mother's_ image –
and which can involve the inheritance
of property and/or titles. A matriline is
a line of descent from
a common female ancestor
to a descendant of either ***
in which the individuals in all intervening
generations are mothers –
in other words, a "mother line".
In matrilineal descent,
individuals belong to the same
group as their mother.
The matriline of historical nobility
was also called the _enatic_ or _Uterine_ ancestry;
From Middle English wombe, wambe,
from Old English womb, wamb
(“belly, stomach; bowels; heart; womb; hollow”),
from Proto-Germanic *wambō
(“belly, stomach, abdomen”),
from Proto-Indo-European *wamp- (“membrane (of bowels),
intestines, womb”). Cognate with Scots wam, wame (“womb”),
Dutch wam (“dewlap of beef; belly of a fish”),
German Wamme, Wampe (“paunch, belly”),
Danish vom (“belly, paunch, rumen”),
Swedish våmb (“belly, stomach, rumen”),
Norwegian vomb (“belly”), Icelandic vömb
(“belly, abdomen, stomach”), Old Welsh gumbelauc (“womb”),
Breton gwamm (“woman, wife”),
Sanskrit वपा (vapā́, “the skin or membrane
lining the intestines or parts of the viscera,
the caul or omentum”).
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 10:37 PM UTC
She came to him like a special angel from heaven
He had lost all faith, he was on his life number 7
She found a crack in his hardened armor
He was in disbelief, it was to his honor
They found themselves to be compatible
But his social graces where unconventional
Her beauty and wisdom sailed the seven seas
He never went beyond the forest and the trees
This Special lady tugged and pulled at his heart string
Witch made the melody of his soul dance and sing
She even stirred his passion with a big tight huggy
A thousand stinging bees filling his heart with honey
Her deep soulful eyes put a spell and made him pray
He just couldn’t stop thinking of her night and day
Putting him in a trance, not knowing what to say
This fine lady was in a class that has all that
This poor lad could only offer poems and a chat
The princess in this story was moving fearless and fast
He feared with his lack of nobility, the dream would not last
She drives, flies, floats, plays and stays first class
He always seems to be in a long line, to be the last
The feeling she gave him will forever in his heart last
He feels sad the best he has to offer, is all lost in the past
Dark mystery still surrounds this girl that likes white and black
He’ll try and sweep her off her feet with gifts of vanilla and lilac
Her biggest dream has to do with innocent smell, theses are facts
He hopes she’ll forgive him for all the thing that he poorly lacks.....
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
A firework
Of brightest colours
Dances slow
Beneath the stars
Torches and candles
Iron braziers' light
Glowing warm
In blue midnight
Gowns of silk
Fineries of all kind
Whirling in solemnity
"A dance, do you mind?"
A thousand miles from sorrow
High society indeed
La crème de la crème
The very best of breed
Extravagance never is
Too extra for those ladies fair
Gossiping girls, all of them
"Oh, look, this lady's hair!..."
Gentlemen bowing
Talking with hushed voices
Trading, socializing
Polite merchants' noises
"This daughter of mine,
She might well catch your eye..."
This just a market of brides n' grooms
An exchange, !!one truth for a hundred lies!!
Gossip girls and merchants noble
Less n' less real knights and dames
Nobility used to mean heroes, and protection
But long extinct, those once bright flames
The only light there, now,
Comes from a stake pile in the debris
Burning bright, but in truth all hollow
This great bonfire of vanities
Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 8:35 AM UTC
You call me your princess,
but I'm not worthy of a title
filled with such nobility.
I'm far from regal, you see,
and I wish you wouldn't give
me so much to live up to.
For I'm destined only to disappoint
when you hold hopes so high.
I'm nothing more than a child
playing dress-up
in her grandmother's old clothes,
pretending to be royalty.
What you think you see,
is nothing more
than make-believe
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC