"rosalie" poems
You know the type.
She's probably called something like
Isabella. Rosalie. Ginevra.
and you find her in the sort of novel where
she's outdone by someone called something like
Jane. Agnes. Lucy.
She's remembered in criticism as
Trivial. Silly. Foolish.
She's defined as Shallow. Vain. False gold.
She's analysed as the mirror, the contrast or the foil
and you're supposed to vaguely dislike her.
She'll reaffirm to the reader that the heroine,
whether she be plain or beautiful, is always, in the end,
Rational. Independent. Brave.
She reaffirms the heroine as someone who
learns and grows
while the silly girl is left looking at herself in the mirror.
The thing is sometimes I feel more like the silly girl,
the girl who needs a hand, the girl who reads books
and wants to believe the stories.
Sometimes, I'm looking in the mirror,
chest deep in my own trivial, silly little worries,
looking at the puddles not the lake, and I know.
I know I'd be one of the silly girls,
not the heroine, out there, just surviving.
I'd be one of those silly girls and I hate it - and yet
- what's so wrong with the silly girls?
What's so wrong with the girls who love themselves,
or love the wrong people or love their clothes?
What's wrong with the girls who are
brave but not rational,
independent but trivial,
selfish but practical?
What's wrong with those girls,
because I always find myself preferring
the Ginevras and the Isabellas anyway.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
*I only have a few friends,
but those few, who are you,
are very precious to me,
I admire your loving hearts,
and your beautiful souls,
that are kind
and filled with purity.
I love you all because...
each of you can hear
the things
that I do not say,
Because,
you each know
how to love me
in your very own unique
and special way.
Because,
all of you reach-out
to my heart and soul,
Because,
you all come together
to grab my hand
and pull me out,
before I sink
into the recurring
black hole.
Because,
I never have to worry
that any of you
will ever give up on me -
you all, patiently,
tolerate my relentless Anxiety.
Because,
you all really understand
who I truly am,
deep,
deep
down
to the very core
of me--Rosalie!
Because,
any amount of absence
doesn't disintegrate or deteriorate
our friendship,
despite the precious time
that my Anxiety,
slowly, eats away,
Because,
I can feel each of you
thinking about me,
even though you're all busy,
every blessed new day.
Because,
individually,
each of you are the sunshine
that removes the dark clouds
that hover over my head
like a curse,
Because,
together,
you all stand to make up
my entire universe!
Because,
I know
that we were meant to be
a special part
of each other's life journey,
Because,
I feel your genuineness
and honest sincerity,
Because,
we are kindred spirits -
we are soulmates -
we are rare, beautiful souls in tune,
Because,
I am grateful
and most thankful
that we met,
and not a minute too soon!
Because,
without these few,
most valuable, friendships
that I truly do cherish,
Life, on this beautiful, but messy,
chaotic, dog-eat-dog, blessed existence,
would be more than hellish!
I love and appreciate
each and every one of you,
YOU!...who I call "A friend!"
I promise to love you all
unconditionally
until my very last breath,
until the very end!
And, from the hereafter,
infinite love to you all,
I will continue to send!
By Lady R.F. (C)2017*
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
There was quite a crowd gathered when I reached my apartment building that morning.
Lots of cops and Emergency Medical personnel gathered everyone was just standing around.
I asked Wild Bill what happened?
Not sure, think it came out apartment five.
What?
A blood-curdling scream, and long wailing, unnatural sounds.
Right then I knew it was bad.
The apartment was occupied by cutthroat junkies and their infant daughter.
Tony “The Hulk” came out first, bloodied, bleary eyed, staring at the ground
Rosalie “The Muse” came next, screaming hysterically in Spanglish... muttering broken Catholic novenas
last soaked in solemn silence, Inca “The Baby”,
covered in a sheet, silent, never to speak again, forgotten.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:38 AM UTC
*I'm simply made of good intentions,
compassion runs right through my veins,
I'm a walking empathetic cuddle,
A delightful rainbow
that follows heavy rains.
My heart is pure without reservations,
I am genuine and I am sincere,
I smile when I see somebody happy,
and my heart aches
when I see anybody shed a tear.
I'm told that I have a combination
of great qualities,
kindness, sincerity,
and generosity - A real heart of gold!
I treat people how I would want
to be treated,
on my watch nobody is left out
in the cold!
,
I live without expectations,
I need nature to help me breathe
and survive,
I give back to the earth
whenever possible,
because I know that without it
we wouldn't be alive!
I'm magnetically attracted
and pulled towards natural landscapes
and solitude,
I can't stay away from them
no matter how hard I try!
I'm torn between the enchanting forest
and the vast blue ocean,
such exquisite beauties,
it's no wonder why!
I'm a lover of the magical majestic moon
and the brilliant constellations,
searching for answers
in the infinite celestial sphere
is where my mind spends its vacations.
My inspiration is often found up above
in the mysterious night sky...
Yes! I have been a poet since birth!
This, I cannot, or will not deny!
Hello Poetry,
My name is Rosalie!
By Lady R.F ©2016*
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 8:53 AM UTC
*The angelic silhouette of her intentions on paper,
fair with the golden fingerprints of the depths of her soul
so pure.
Her smile with the potential to light up a thousand dead cities in the blink of an eye,
So allure.
Her eyes play so convincing,
The calm detailed glisten in the sunlight and the sorrowful muted tone they become when her mind is far from bright.
Her idiosyncratic and highly distinctive attitude towards things never fails to amaze me,
Her heart silences her mind when only it feels what her mind can't see.
Rosalie is art
From her knowledge full and constantly absorbing mind, to her utterly beautiful heart.*
Amanda. F (c) 2017
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 3:29 AM UTC
*I put this here to greet you all
I love you all
You all have become like family,
From the Likes of Valsa George, Mother of nature poems, to Soulsurvivor, a brave heart... To Sydrivers, a romantic heart, who left here without informing me,
To KarenN, a conjuring poetess who also left,
To WL Winter, he's like a dear Father of poetry
To SPT, a poet with refreshing words,
To Ja, a must read
To Rosalie, F.... A woman of impeccable poetry, to James, the author of a dear poem to my heart "The candle on top"
To Kristy, a soul-moving poetess
To Vicki, a Strong poetess
To R, A brave Writer
To Professor Marylyn-D, A woman of colors
To Stephan, with poems of wonder
To Stephanie, A warming, calming poetess
To Melissa, with a beautiful smile and heart
To Victoria, writer of intellectual poems
To Mary, A woman of Class
To Jamadi Verse, A poetess that brings heaven to earth with her poems
To Evna-Luna, a friend with beautiful words, to all and all and all,
I greet you all,
I'm currently travelling a lot
But I'll be checking on here once in a while
I Love you all*
Ovi Odiete
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
*I love the real me - the me I was born to be,
when I am surrounded by the forest trees
in the Australian bush lands,
I love the anxiety-free version of me,
when I am unrestricted and unrestrained
emotionally and mentally,
when I can breathe, as my chest freely expands.
I love the sense of freedom,
as my mind floats and dances through the bushes, like a precious, delicate butterfly,
I love the feeling of the earth grabbing
at my ankles, sinking my feet-- planting them deep inwards,
as I gaze through the evergreen canopy
into a perfect blue sky.
I was born
to be in nature's tender embrace,
if only you could see the satisfied look
on my innocent face,
when I am in the heart
of such a peaceful, magical place,
You would see an amazing, wondrous love,
as I let go and become a free little dove,
because the forests fits my soul
just like a second skin glove.
If anybody should be living in the woods,
It should be me!
City life has never cut it for me,
It's not where my soul chose to be,
Or wants to be.
I love being the real me,
The Rosalie,
that I was born to be!
By Lady R.F ©2017*
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 7:00 AM UTC
"Come on Rosie let's go to town." Rosie smiled instead of a frown. Finally she can leave that giant white house, she's tried of being an indoor mouse. The nanny smiles and gives her a kiss, lets her know that she will be missed. Mama gently grabs her hand, Rosie wants to explore that outside land. Watching through windows as life rolls on, too young to be someone until life rolls on.
The summer air hits her face, the cool breeze makes the trees wave. Summer flowers are strong and in bloom, she wants to go to the park soon. "Mama mama can we go?" Anything for her angel she shows. Skip down the sidewalk not a worry in mind, life is beautiful Rosie will find.
Into the park mama lets her play. If she could she would stay all day. Climb the tree and play in the dirt. Not much to do but she makes it work. A wall of trees hold her back, just like the rules, she silently laughs. Look back to see mama's not watching, sneak into the woods at the rivers crossing.
The feeling of excitement rushed through her body, time to explore, time to be naughty. She sees pretty birds and little creatures, the fascination excites her. New emotions fire up like a lighter. Then she feels something touch her head, stops in her tracks with feet like lead.
Look up to see a man hanging there. Feet dangling in the air. Catches her breath, she can't scream, look into his eyes and see the pain. A fresh noose around his neck, body torn, body limp. Rosie screams with her held air, she doesn't understand why, she knows that shes scared.
Mama covers her eyes, mama grabs her away. Rosie hears of a lynching that day. What does it mean, she doesn't know. Years go by before she knows. It's not fair what they did to him, her family doesn't care that there are more like him. Rosalie cries for the lost man.
And this is where summer ends
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 4:43 PM UTC
Rosalie Rose, sweet child,
named for the angels in splendor.
Rosalie Rose, what falls upon your cheeks?
This world is not for you.
The stars are your ancestors, and your closest companions.
Rosalie Rose, rest your head in my arms.
You're safe here.
Rosalie Rose, my darling dear,
let the twinkling bells of my voice soothe you,
and hang your worries upon those celestial beings.
They will not blame you for it, for you are blameless,
and worthy of all love.
And they will hurry away with your fears streaming behind,
and explode soon enough.
Rosalie Rose, sweetest child,
I offer you my all,
until the very day you join the angels in their splendor.
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
Rosalie. She fit her name too.
She was pale as a ghost but much prettier than one.
Her cheeks were red; like red roses.
Her hair was so long.
It was an extreme shade of light blonde.
Sometimes when the light hit it, it looked powder pink.
She had the most enchanting hazel eyes.
Gosh, I got lost in those things so many times.
It was like there was a shot of magic in them.
Anyone who looked at her would think she was from a different planet.
She was gorgeous.
Not in some magazine-model kind of way.
It was an intriguingly simple kind of gorgeous.
It’s hard to explain it. She’s hard to explain.
I guess that’s why loved her so much.
She surprised me everyday.
I loved that about her.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 3:24 AM UTC
My Rosalie
I have travelled from a far
Could I stay under your same roof
I will be thankful forever more my Rosalie
For I am cold and my cloths are damp
Could you spare me your warmth
For I will be forever grateful my Rosalie
could I trouble you for some bread
For I have starved for 40 days and 40 nights
The ravens circle around my being
I will be forever merciful my Rosalie
I will not lie, my Rosalie; I am weak and every heart beat hurts me for it pumps harder for I am with you my Rosalie
Thou I know now this is my last sleep
And you will be my last sight
And these ravens speak on repeat my last words to me
I love you forever more my Rosalie
Jan 8, 2024
Jan 8, 2024 at 2:50 AM UTC
Rosalie Avila,
she was only 13.
Happy as can be,
smiling like the brightest sun.
Loving life,
while spreading the joy around.
Until that day at school,
classmates started teasing her,
while calling Rosalie
such horrific names.
She started cutting,
numbing every emotion
that came her way.
Taunting Rosalie,
always sat alone in the lunchroom.
Their words were tearing her apart,
ripping away her self esteem.
She had enough,
going home,
heading towards her room,
closing the door.
Her mom came walking inside,
gasping in horror,
seeing her baby girl
hanging from the ceiling.
Quickly taken to the emergency room, where she was later put off life support…
Still the bullying keeps coming up,
teens are now trolling,
even bashing the parents.
Mocking,
judging,
discriminating,
hating,
smacking.
Rosalie's parents are still grieving and mourning,
while wishing upon a shooting star
that their daughter was
never put through all that crap.
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 5:34 PM UTC