A gentleman I know
who’s held in high esteem
left this world two days ago
smiling softly in a dream
His tombstone bore the words below:
‘Ended life as he began
Never uttered an unkind word
about his fellow man’
In the depths of his soul, the gentleman keeps chords of silent harmony,
each key a secret, a universe of sounds that will not be uttered.
He carries in his heart an orchestra of dreams that need no stage,
for true art lies in the silence between the notes, in their unplayed state.
Like a magician of silence, he weaves untold stories in his gaze,
unheard chords that dance in the air like butterflies at dawn.
Each of his gestures is a silent symphony, an invisible poem,
unfolding in the depths of his being, without the need for applause.
In his silence, he hides the sea of sounds that could resonate,
but his elegance lies in the art of keeping the music just for himself.
Just as the moonlight caresses the earth without setting it ablaze,
he leads his existence, a gentleman of silence, of perfect calm.
In a world full of noise, he chooses to be the silence that speaks,
a poet of unheard sounds, an artist of the absence of noise.
And thus, his beauty is not in what he plays, but in what he withholds,
a master of the inner chord, of music that is never revealed.
“Politics is a contact sport” —Steve Chabot
It ain't over 'till it's over —Yogi Berra
Loug And Doug
Pleasant gentlemen both, broad shouldered and tall
Good sports who respect the umpire's call
Playing the game with pride and joy
Sincerely humble, never coy
Staunch New Yorkers with their eyes on the ball
On Saturday the fifth, I will meet my bride.
By side of alter, and then decide.
If I should flee, or marry thee.
You may think me cruel, or ungentle of man.
But she’s the type, to toll a man.
By cost and affect, because she can.
By Sunday sixth, she will be Mrs or amiss.
But me a Mister, regardless of this.
Her name in tarnish, but mine varnished still.
As a gentleman untamed, unmarried and with will.
It will be my choice, whether we rejoice.
Or my plan, that I leave her in abandon.
On Friday fourth, I get a jolt.
A letter brought forth, has me revolt.
Miss will not see you on Saturday.
She’s decided against, the matrimony.
How dare she, I gasp!
To leave such a man, not at the alter
But by, the pen of hand.
For the first time in my life I'm ok with being vulnerable ,with such a high stature women
Making me accountable for my actions but still find a way to love me during the times that it is clear I have fallen soft hands warm skin intelligence on such a level that 1000 men alone couldn't reach the surface of how incredible you are bright lights gleam and flash around you as every move you make is glorious to my eyes you are the prize your much more then legs and arms your a walking lucky charm a one women army that triumphs over hard situations
Giving lessons to those In need of your voice what a women you are
I’m going to turn a new green leaf
No more Ms follow the rules
I’m going to be a woman so naughty
That lights the eyes of guys like red jewels
Maybe I’ll be a bit of a tease
Until I chose my next violet victim
He will feel nice so cool like a king
As I caress him so lovingly kiss him
Then I will pick a fight
And invite him to my room
We can make up all night
By the light of a strawberry moon
I’m not married so it’s a sin
One I’m ready to explore
For waiting on a specific gentleman
Has become quite a blue bore
I have a bestfriend of my own,
who sees everyone with a critical eye for my protection.
But his bestfriend though, always said hi back when I waved or even just simled at him.
But his bestfriend though, was the one who answered me at 1 midnight when he blocked me with a huge explination even though he didn't knew what was going on.
But his bestfriend though, didn't hesitated of mistakes his bestfriend had done.
But his bestfriend though, always smiled and nodded while my presentation.
But his bestfriend though, distanced himself when I felt uncomfortbale.
But his bestfriend though, made me space in classroom, when his friends wanted to sit near my seat.
But his best friend though,
who just got his heart hurt,
cheered me up even with just a little gesture.
Even though his heart got just hurted
just
like
mine
But for his bestfriend, I still would do,
thousands.
He’s both a vampire and a gentleman,
she longed to be a bride of the shadows;
They connected on a wooden dance floor;
To her he appeared perfect medicine;
How combative he was everyone knows,
no matter the rumors she just wants more;
Going to him right now would feel so good,
secure she was the woman that he chose;
This was like nothing she had felt before,
exploring the world as his wife she would
adore.
The new lion gentleman at court is a bit off
This is discussed by those whose dendrites think.
Not sure how the jester says with a cough
I catch his eye and give him an agreeing wink.
We know better than to make fun or scoff
For he could eat me faster than I can blink.
Amidst the glow of city lights they strolled, entwined,
Giggles danced upon the air, hands in harmony aligned,
Pause, they would, for tender kisses, vows softly spoken,
A love so true, as if the universe itself had awoken.
In their embrace, a masterpiece of togetherness they'd weave,
A portrait of love and devotion, for all to perceive,
Her handbag rested in his grip, a symbol of unity profound,
He, a gentleman rare, by all admirers renowned.
The sky above, their shared canvas, they'd often admire,
As stars winked, and the moon's glow set their hearts on fire,
Each smile exchanged, a token of a love pure and clear,
A bond that outshone all, crowned the couple of the year.
Harry Horsman in poesy clad
a white rose bred Yorkshire lad
A PoetrySoup stalwart many a year
always true and sincere
A Gentleman.
An elderly gentleman sits on his porch rocking in a chair,
reminiscing the past and present times that really don't compare.
He fought for our freedom that today we all share,
that others have trouble accepting and weren't even there.
His life was not easy in his younger years,
and he worries today about the present-day fears.
He is proud of his family and the country he served,
but questions the greed and injustice that power has reserved.
He has always viewed killing and destruction as an arrogant feat,
that serves those conspiracy profiles that are willing to cheat.
His chair now empty, for he had since passed on,
as a tear is shared for this gentleman now gone.
Respect our elderly for your time will come, sharing memories of your achievements and a few that were dumb.
Peter J. Hurst. From Nova Scotia.
You shouldn’t be buried somewhere unmarked in there and I shouldn’t be here.
You should not have done that for me.
So many tears I’ve cried for you over the years.
In the trench you saw my fear. You saw the scared boy of me. You protected the innocence I hold so dear. The most important part of me.
You saw the shaking of my hands while your dead steady aim was so straight and true.
You were a presence of a man. A formidable soldier, no fear, no fool.
You ran into gunfire aimed at me. You died out there so that I could be here.
There was no tougher man out there, this I know. This I know and I hold your memory so dear.
You showed a care for my life, a care that the world didn’t want to know or hear.
Always the gentleman, always the strongest and kindest with the greatest smile.
After the war you were everything to me I want you to know.
It’s been thirty years since last I was here. Thirty years I never forgot you, I’ll never let the memory of you go.
You died for me on this battlefield. My life, my wife, my kids, my smile… I owe all of that to you.
There is a gentleman that I am acquainted with.
He grins, but it is not seen in his eyes
He chuckles, but it is only a lovely lie
He speaks but conceals something inside
He sings, but his quiet screams are audible
He draws but has no one to console him
He writes, yet it never alleviates his life's sorrow
He adores, yet his thighs are scarred.
He survives, but all he wants is death
He merely absorbs the ache, which is excruciatingly bitter
And I take a step back from the mirror
3TH PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: April 25, 2022
Near Death Experience Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
A scandalous public kiss
A woman would gladly miss
And upon her forced hiss,
If she didn’t in her pants piss!
Openly, she has been axed;
For it wasn’t at all asked;
Her tolerance one has taxed
And one’s low esteem faxed
A stranger’s not–sought–peck
Of a woman’s not notified neck
While in some open deck
Bound to a relationship wreck;
And should it salacious stories sell
Cause give her to arrange you a cell:
She’s a maiden you’ve stripped of glory,
If not implied she could court The Gory…
Scandalous public kiss of a woman
Not an option for a gentleman…
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