Nobles Poems | Examples

I’d Be Bored Too Wouldn’t You?

The rich and their money,
the rich and their caviar.

The rich and their parties,
the rich and their friends.

The rich and their polo shirts,
the rich and their tennis
matches.

The rich and their trust funds,
the rich and their mansions.

The rich and their cars,
the rich and their speedboats.

The rich and their engagements,
the rich and their affairs.

The rich and their absolutes,
the rich and their lack of
commitment.

The rich and their art shows—
their art shows I attend.

It all makes me understand,
all the more clearly, why the Dazais
of the world drown, and the Sylvias
hang.

The noble will never
understand the belittled, or what
they find to be so beautiful.

And the belittled will only
understand the nobles after
they have all drowned.

Neat Queen

simple 
dimple

neat queen
odd seen

footles
nobles

simple 
dimple
 
doom boom
nice bloom

The Kings Of Backgammon

The kings of backgammon, descendants of
Bulgarian kings and Austro-Hungarian princes
Russian counts and countesses, Czech barons
Your ancestors have seen better days.
They accepted their fate as the natural state of affairs
And when it turned out to be just a fickle fortune
They had the nurture and tact not to show their shock,
Though usually such a ruthless discovery crushes many. 
Now, as you spend your days playing backgammon in smoky cafes
You rarely remember the fragments of days gone by.
You've learnt to rejoice in trifling victories, and not to be disheartened by losses.
The descendants of exiled kings and ruined nobles
They organise championships of sad joy
The winner owes a round of beer for everyone.
The new Russian opposition makes the right acquaintances
Just like the old one did a hundred years ago 
And in their later years, they all convert to Catholicism
Since Orthodox churches don't have pews
At least with Catholics you can doze off unnoticed
With a sniff of incense through the candle light.

KINGDOM COME

KINGDOM COME

The blood runs hot through royal veins
Ready for the throne, and to finally rule
But it has now to be a battle, not a duel
What one pretender loses, another gains

In muddy fields, many lives shall be lost
To raise the standard and claim the prize
Yet it is still kingship but in another guise
It’s a pity the common folk bear the cost

I’ll take the crown and hold up the mace
Assembling all nobles who are true to me
Pledging their loyalty as was meant to be
But some might see suspicion in my face

Ancestral claims should have the final say
This powerful army makes it more certain
Yet I’ll always check behind every curtain
But it first depends on who wins this day

BROTHERLY RIVAL

BROTHERLY RIVAL
 
Boldly, brothers battle for bragging rights
Nigeria and Ghana, neighbors in night
Gigantic egos clash, a game of might
Healthy rivalry, or so it's in sight.4

Music, movies, memorable moments;
These brothers bit-in on each other's boats.
Nimble Nigerians navigate noble norms,
Ghanaians gaze, green with envy's forms8

Raucous rivalry reigns, a roaring storm
Eager eagles eye each other's form
Naija ninjas, the Eagles, no dey carry last
Ghana grits greatly with games of the past.¹²

Bold brothers boast, banter and jest
Raucous rivalry rocks, a restless nest
Eager eagles engage, in endless test
Sibling supremacy, a serious quest¹6

Nigeria's nobles navigate noble deeds
Ghana's giants gaze, with gleaming needs
Rivalry rages, a roaring blaze
Eager eagles eye, each other's ways²°

Bold brothers battle, for brotherly pride
Raucous rivalry reigns, far and wide
Ghana/Nigeria eagerly engage in endless stride
For sibling supremacy, so serious to put aside.²4

VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Alliteration/Rhymes 
Copyright ©?19th May, 2024.

Africanism:Rise

The ancestral savannahs of my people
Are still alive in the unseen horizons
Our grandparents have told us many
Wonderful things about our tribe
Before they arrived, we were here

On the banks of the rivers and streams
We stood and saw their ships
North, south, East and West
Your blood flows in my veins; Only we
Can irrigate the fields without profits 

The sick mentality of favour doing
Need to be hang or put in the electric chair
We are not anyone boys or lessers
Our ancestors were kings, queens, and nobles
There was so much to eat and drink

The blood of our sweat, the sweat of our labor
Elements of stability; Rise Up Africans
Like a corpse, bury the weight of opprobrium
No more trembling, red blemishes
Shine in the middle; go nowhere

Africans, wise, and strong
Young and old; be a stimulating tree
Be part of the newfound springing up Africa
Amid the pale and faded flowers, we rise
Deliberately, and earnestly, we rise

With Habakkuk Kargbo (Rabbi)
©Poem Makers SL (18/04/24)

Knighthood Tale

Knighthood tale
While we look back at the past 
Great memories keep rushing back 
As today is the joy of many tomorrow
Many yesterdays have no hiding places 

Though i live to love you forever 
Love walks away from the reminiscence 
As a good name is coated in gold 
Streams of joy and happiness 

We are going to tell you fables! 
From the king tables for nobles 
Great Men are the Men of the past 
Like a titan fall among the minnows 

For a living dog is better than a dead lion 
As pages are born for his knighthood 
A great knight is a crowned king
Many fables and tales to tell 

His world is full of wonder 
as sober as pie of honors 
Something to remember than flowers 
As a friend closes at the same heart.

Our love unspoken

In the realm of love , we were intwined 
as soul mates, our hearts forever aligned.
Our love unbreakable tether , a book with its own title.
Our own was declared from high above ,
It's written on the stars destined to shine.
In the tapestry of destiny, our worlds collided .
In every glance my heart takes a flight.
A spark ignited, a connection made .
My truly epitome of perfection from afar I adore
Now, I long to know you , to explore
the depth of your soul , the treasures in store.
From afar, I secretly admire your grace
Unsure if you see the depth in my gaze.
In a world full of faces you stand apart.
Your smile charms, brightening even the gloomest days.
Your love a majestic fortress of unwavering dedication fortifies my spirit.
My gratitude overflows for your celestial light , virtuous and nobles with you.
In crowded rooms , I still feel a surge in my senses.
Fate whispered...Our love sings it's song forever.

July 14th

They
fought for
Liberté,
égalité
et fraternité
in a revolution
against royal tyranny
by a careless, selfish monarch.
On July 14th, they stormed the Bastille
in the first major act of violence
against nobles and the bourgeoisie.
The third estate, the poor, starving
watched as madam guillotine
despatched the King and Queen,
and their divine right
in a revolt
where many
lost their
heads.

Hate Vacuuming

Hate Vacuuming?

By Mark Stucky
Vacuum cleaners are pneumatic nobles,
built to cleanse our offices and homes,
sucking dust from floors and crevices
to discard in trash cans
(where dirt belongs).

What if we could also build a machine
to vacuum hate from our world
and to hurl hate into hell
(where hate belongs)?

What if it could suck base instincts
from souls of supremacists and mass shooters,
mute divisive talk shows, podcasts, and politicians,
and permanently delete dark social media posts?

From each of us, would it also siphon out
grievances, grudges, prejudices, and pain,
with torturous psychological turbulence...
but then heal us as our last dastardly
dust bunnies disappear?

To heal ourselves, our communities, our nations,
can we really assemble that marvelous machine?
Can tools of truth, justice, and love
help us to eradicate hate?


(First published in Valiant Scribe Literary Journal (Issue 2, Winter 2022) 43-44. See also my poems "Closed Community Prejudice (an Alphabetized Memoir)," "Races," and "Weapons of Wonder.")

The Peasant Suspense

In his weary hour
The legumes blossom on time;
Out of jocundity in honour
Of the beautiful turf
The drowsy peasant peak.

His weird blistered palm blimey,
 His nasty regalia wretched,
 He produces plenty and eats small
 He produces good and eats bad
 To the nobles he worked, 

The dark noxious pest 
Ravage and wrest 
The peasant-shaddock 
This tonic the dressy peasant
 A nocturnal haunter.

This extempore task
 Demoralizes his sinew
 His swansong 
Rhythmically envelops
 In serenity and drone.

Each rising smoke
Nervous him to move.
This previous eyes
That know no peace
By the smiling scorching sun.

At the dark hour
He puts on his clogs
And marched to the farm shack
There he finds the beetles
On the yam.

The great anxiety of the peasant
Is the bragging fire of winter
He fasted to lull it
He became gaunt
The sturdy peasant.

The time unknown: the blazing fire 
Burnt the bedecked bower 
The ranch house and the lettuce 
Barefooted staggered him
 To the farm with his straw hat
 And met the yelling ashes 
The cracking twigs of cocoa plant 
The peasant live no day 
Longer than that and slept

Och Aye Oh Yes

Farquhar, a posh name
That's what it sounds like to me
Lords and other Nobles
Would grace this family tree

You can't help saying it
With much pride and panache
It certainly bodes better
Than Brown or Smith or Nash

I could go on forever
Quoting superlatives galore
I first saw this impressive name
Over a Scotsman's shop door!

The Fallen King

Near a hallowed grave,
Under a clouded moon.
The lonely Minstrel plays,
A very somber tune.

The last resting place,
Of a fallen King.
Betrayed by royal blood,
He felt the dagger's sting.

His wicked son was crowned,
And now stood at the helm.
He clenched a tyrant's sword,
Which bore a tattered realm.

A cold blackened heart,
Bred his lust for power.
The Nobles it divided,
And left the people sour.

The endless wars that raged,
Would help destroy the land.
All armies laid to waste,
By his unyielding hand.

Poverty stricken masses,
Rose up to end his rule.
Their tolerance expired,
To endure his laws so cruel.

They fought with all their might,
But those efforts were in vain.
The hope of freedom quashed,
And he kept his bloody reign.

After years of vile neglect,
The walls came tumbling down.
This once mighty kingdom,
Would soon crash to the ground.

The Castle stones still remain,
But the legends are all gone.
Moonlight breaks through the clouds,
While the Minstrel plays on.

Nativity

His lineage was from the nobles,
The government was to be His,
They had read it in the books,
Prophets foretold of His birth,
Honourable titles were given to Him,
Ones befitting of a lord,
Everyone awaited His coming,
Their eyes were on the home
 of birth of kings and rulers,
Many years passed by,
They never lost hope and sight,
For He eventually arrived,
Thousands of years can't
 hinder the fulfilment of a prophesy,
But He came from the least expected place,
He was born in a little and lowly town,
Often He was dejected and disregarded, 
His words were lightly esteemed, 
He wasn't deterred,
For He had come in
 the volume of books written about Him, 
For He had a due mission to accomplish.


December 26, 2022.

Henry and Anne

Anne Boleyn Condemned 
  Declared England's Floozy 
Grotesque Henry Imposed Justice
King's Law Meted
Nobles Obediently Praised
  Queen's Reasonless Subjugation
Testosterone Unequivocally Vindictive           
Widespread Xenophobia
Yielding Zeitgeist

11/13/2021

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