Nobleman Poems

1393

1393

Yvain, the son of the Earl of Foix, did painfully expire
At a Royal Masquerade Ball as his costume caught fire
And a most tragic yet quite strange event, did transpire
As many others all around, tried to fan the flames away
Aimery Poitiers, a French nobleman also died that way
As did two more in 1393 at the King’s Bal des Ardents

what are you auctoining today

Auctioneers have quite a simple job
They must make wares sound outstandingly wonderful
In 1816 a really great one sold Sir Issac Newton’s tooth
For a marvelously crazy price –
Three thousand seven hundred and eighty five dollars.
The nobleman who bought it had it put into a ring.
His wife left him.

Daemon

allow me to introduce to you
a dear friend
may I present The Green Man
we once shared a goblet of mead
inside the head of a nobleman
sometime in the early
thirteenth century

By Queen's Decree

In days of old the poets told a tale
A scout rode out to search the unforseen
To gather food and drink, to blaze a trail
A pious nobleman, charged by his queen

He was a fearless man and very wise
Outwitting those mistaking him a fool
His principles he would not compromise
His creed of life, "Obey the Golden Rule"

For many years he rode and sacrificed
His health and wealth, yet never one complaint
His pay for services grossly mispriced
They mourned him in the end, a selfless saint

The poets often cried, the tale so sad
His queen decreed henceforth,"He'll be called Dad"



   Daniel Turner
   Thank you Dad

The Painting

 
 
there is a painting at the art gallery,
I have a strong affection for;
it is a man that calls me from the past,
in the year 1670 lived this nobleman.

long dark hair falls to his shoulders,
a strong face with fathomless eyes;
eyes full a passion and desire,
he does not smile, yet I adore him.

I want to reach out to him,
he seems to see me, beckon to me;
come to me-   he whispers,
aristocratic is his demeanor, dignified.

O, but could I step within the frame,
be in his world-   in his time;
we would hold hands in silence,
for he would know without question  . . .

my heart and soul are his forever.

__________________________ 
March 01, 2023  (Repost)

Poetry/Freed Verse/the painting
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1528-736-01
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France

Submitted to the Standard contest, You Pick Again
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 03/02/2023

Third Place

Noble Is the Sea That Has Blue Blood

Red-blood nobleman !
          nobility has the sea  !
         lymph water regal blue ...

Abomination

12/2/2020


Seeds starting to germinate
The scent always permeates
The effect begins to percolate
Having an impact on the murder rate
As life begins or terminates

Thought I heard a hiss
But was too caught up in bliss
After a poisonous kiss
Everything going amiss
Because I was too caught up in getting my fix
She was able to nix

Falling and sinking amidst the fish
Can't resist, is this it?

Not while I exist
Had to find a grip
The tables turned and flipped

Took a lot of risks
In order to get out of the abyss
Couldn't keep falling for the same old tricks

Do what I want with this heart of mine
Don't care if it's dark outside
Experienced comfort and the hardest times
I'd be darned to lie

That sober s***
Been struggling to get over it
Often a Doberman
And other times a Nobleman

Here's an honest statement
At times I overcompensated
Made things far too complicated
And always got intoxicated
Making myself an abomination

When I concentrated
I often dominated
Always felt obligated
And that this world was far too populated

I just thank God I made it
Nothing else needed to be contemplated

Surprise

The wicked witch of the West 
Wanted to be a model on the cover of the
Cosmopolitan.
Her green complexion made her a woman 
Of extreme interest.
She should of fired her dress designer who
Manifest
Her as a harridan.
The wicked witch of the West
Filled out the paper work to enter the modeling
Contest.
People were surprised when they found out
She had been her classes valedictorian
Her green complexion made her a woman 
Of extreme interest.
The Judges found her some one who was 
Willing to invest
Time and money to help her as she began.
The wicked witch of the West
Was also on a quest
To find her superman
Her green complexion made her a woman 
Of extreme interest.
She did find him while doing a modeling job
In Key West.
He is a nobleman.
The wicked witch of the West
With her complexion was never second best
She will always be his woman of extreme
Interest.

The Kingdom Within Viii

You, my friend, 
are not a king or a prince 
neither are you a nobleman  
of 
a higher or lower rank, 
you are just another poor man like me:
a citizen of perpetual want
 
yet

you carry within your heart a kingdom, 
a kingdom, you very well could inherit 
with God's grace
If
only Lord's divine Word you choose to
listen to and follow virtue's path that  
He indicates!*









© Demetrios Trifiatis 
      29 APRIL 2020

* Was honored as POTD. 
Thank all my friends for their love and support.
Plus thank the site!

Such a Man He Was

What a lovely, lovely boy he was,
And such pretty manners-oh!
And a charming boy he was because-
He knew what to say, where to go.

Such a fine man he became, became;
And such courtly airs and flair!
As scents crowd summer, none the same,
And leave a memory everywhere.

A gallant man, so smart and all!
And honest and seemly strong.
His portrait graces palace wall;
And the days of glory are long.

Such a noble, nobleman was he,
All subtle in face and grace;
A finer man could never be,
He had admirers in every place.

As fresh a breath of air he was,
As in nature's own vast room.
And so much loved he was because
He somehow cast off all gloom.

Such a fiery knight and true!
And what a passion he gave, he gave.
Turned pale skies so to blue,
And he never, never knew a knave.

King Arthurs Lot

A Shadorma


Arthur’s lot
memory of myth
it’s never
been proven
legend, myth, reality
will we ever know?

The truth lay
buried but not at
Tintagel
perhaps it’s
elsewhere or perhaps he was
not really a king...

Maybe a
farmer or trader?
Tin miner,
a genius,
great mind within his own time?
it may be...

A king can
be numerous things
even a
scientist;
king of industry or a
prognosticator?

Perhaps he
was really Merlin?
A nickname
of Arthur...
nobility's not always
simply a ruler...

Sometimes we
must look carefully
to define
many words
what if Arthur was just a
common nobleman?

We look for
those whom are wiser
than ourselves.
What if king,
was a reference to his
bright, bold character?

Art - Leonardo Da Vinci

MONA LISA

For ten years his paint brushes danced to the motion
of his hands on a white Lombardy poplar panel,
creating inimitable effects with the image he created –
Yes! Of one Lisa Gherardini, wife of a nobleman,
Francesco del Giocondo.
For ten years he handled his painting like a holy grail,
seeking to perfect his genius in  different colored
oils, fused together with the blessings of his muses.
He never painted Mona Lisa even once,
while he’s drunk or angry.
Today, the pristine state of his mind’s reflection in color,
can be seen in the Louvre Museum, in Paris.


Date: 02/05/2017

Prince Zylonski's Awesome Sword

If all the sharpened swords await to wreak revenge
on the enemy who hides to plan a siege,  
then Prince Zylonski's awesome sword
will be drawn to invoke that mighty and fearless word.

A nobleman without any stain of abomination
can invite the coward to a duel in a courtyard; 
this will decide the fate of an uncertain nation...
sparing soldiers who are either young or old.   

Before drawing your sword and suddenly attack,
humiliate the opponent and have enough courage 
to take away his weapon and surrender to your rage:
he won't be able to conquer, destroy, burn and sack.


Written on 1/14/3017

I Drained Life of Its Fullness

I drained life of its fullness...
not pricing its worthiness,
leaving nicks in the prime of youth:
deceitful tricks to ignore every truth.

I imitated parody to conceal identity,
thus making it forgery my priority;
and the masked nobleman acted out his
infamous burlesque play, ridiculing Fay...
knowing that her unrhymed lines  
were intently borrowed from clowns,
not from gifted writers with clever minds;
did they bray when they were blamed for the delay?
 
My intent was not a merited Godsent or lofty thought
perceived by a gladiator who held the wilt
of his sword proportioned to his solid built, 
but rather ridden by a guilt which had a powerful force to jilt
me when I was reduced to tears by my peers for my peculiar tilt.  


Written on 12/12/2016

Regret

The seer of all your weight.
Not in mirrors or magazines
but the truth that everything won’t be ok.
You don’t own forgiveness or tomorrow.
Shame grows in the eye of your peers
and everyone else being lord, 
nobleman, winter or crow
has eyes and confines you to your land
that will never again bear fruit
until the soul is again ready.

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