Chivalry is a lost characteristic in modern day society. It is something that melted away with the industrial age of the great and progressive United States of America. Sadly I do not enjoy the modern society that we live in. I do not enjoy it at all. It is phony, misguided, and in need of a spiritual awakening to remember what is really important.
Eric lofted the lance from his squire and fitted it securely against his shoulder then chucked the horse forward along the railing. The knight opposite charged toward him in the same manner and he felt the fear rise in his stomach as he always did, but he battened it down and aimed for the neck.
Dust rises from where the horses hooves hit the ground. A crowd of hot, ill-clad people pretending they’re something they’re not cheer. Several figures stand out as looking less cheesy, but significantly more sweaty than the rest.
“Chivalry lives!” shouts the would-be-knight riding on his white horse which must look more impressive in his own mind.
It’s dead, he replied.
What?
That need I have to express my inherent superiority by pretending you require my presence to exist.
I hadn’t noticed, she sniffed.
There he was, sitting at the edge of the wall. Of all things, he should have been killing titans. But nooo.
They were having a goddamn picnic.
Why? Because hell, the stationary troups didn’t have much else to do. They were the safest of the groups, and while not as luxurious as the military troupes, life was good. So why was he, a member of the Scouting legion, sitting there?
It poured down like the rain would capture them a sweep them away. He looked at her drench in cold water shivering like a small wet puppy and he moved slightly over to her and placed his umbrella over her as he let his clean black tux become drench. She admired him for his chivalry.
She felt that she would never find another man who still abided by the rule of women. A man who would open doors for her, kiss the back of her hand, give her all his cigarettes, or tuck stray hair behind her ear. She felt as though she would never feel a man kiss her more sweetly or more deeply than he had, his breath which smelled of thick lager and his tongue which tasted like cigarettes and 1955.
Chivalry is an arbitrary notion of how one should treat a supposedly ‘noble’ man. While it makes for rather light-hearted entertainment at the expense of the poor, ignoble peasant class, it ignores the fact that you are still a fucking moron.
Up here, everything is cold. The weather is cold, the buildings are cold, the people are cold. Holding doors, politeness, being called Miss and darlin’ every where I went are thing I miss from the south. Up here, my soul grows cold, and I feel alone, I miss home. I want my Southern warmth back.
Praises were sung through serpid teeth
while the morning sun spit fire on the distant hawthorns.
By night, the morphose is complete,
a temptrid serpent about your lion breast does lie
and from your flesh, she eats.
chivalry is dead
or rather it was never alive to be dead
the concept that one sex deserves something the other doesn’t
seems draconian
sure, being polite is
part of living in a society
but if you don’t give what you get
you aren’t owed what you want.
The snake that sung your praises previously,
as the Toyons on the hill are lit by fire the of the morning sun’s delight,
wraps herself around your lion breast
to squeeze out the last oily drop.
The chivalry of today’s news and downward spiral of current affairs, has my mind boggled. It’s hard enough to get up every day, work a job of disgust, get a meager paycheck and pay so many taxes I can’t live comfortably. What a life.
he was like a knight in shining armour. all glitter and glow, polish and shine. he was a perfect gentleman, holding out a hand to help her up, to carry her off into her fairytale ending. perhaps a little too perfect in the end.
knights in shining armor
ride along the bay.
the day they found
the kingdom’s king
was not today.
with swords up high
and words away
they’ll have to save him
another day.
chivalry’s like fun. you hold a door open for a fat kid who’s not tall enough to reach the door and you’re a cool person. but then one time I heard that chivalry was dead. so that means either the door died, the Me died, or the fat kid died. Doors can’t die. and I aint dead yet… so I guess that means that poor little fat kid died. brothers and sisters, when you hear chivalry, think of that little boy, and go make yourself a salad. and stop drinking coffee or something.
A friend liked to claim that he was all about chivalry – even after he had gotten seven drinks poured down his shirt, nine slaps in the face, and at least two jabs to the nutsack over one week alone. It was hard to remind him that being chivalrous and being overtly forward were two entirely different things, because he wouldn’t budge on what he believed was the true path of romance.
Last time I checked, someone hit him in the head with a baseball bat.
Chivalry is something Jenna didn’t think existed. Not that she thought it was “dead” as others said. No, Jenna was convinced that it never existed in the first place.
“Guys always have been, and always will be, too egotistical to care about the people they’re ‘helping’ more than they care about how charming or brave or manly it makes them look,” she thought; “It’s for them.”
She looked over at a junior boy asking a hot freshman if she needed help with her books. The girl responded exactly as expected, laughing flirtatiously and protesting a couple of times before handing over her books to that satisfied smile, a smile looking to score, a smile that knew nothing about this girl and didn’t care.
“It’s always for them.”
Jenna hated chivalry. And she hated when guys pretended they practiced it.
A warming hope that follows me throughout my day.
How you’ve astounded me! Why yes, you’ve gone astray
from the madness and perplexing drama of every day.
Well now, what a score. I do say, I vote for more!
Hold my hand, cut my meat. Open a door, rub my feet!
I have no clue what this word means. This is a very odd website and I have no clue what I am doing. Hello, this is Dog. I’m really bored now. Oh well, it said to not think so here I go………………………. I’m bored again………………………
She wore boots with the damn pants. I mean I couldn’t even open a door for her because she’d smash through the damn glass panels before we got ten feet away.
It’s been a great day in age where chivalry is no more. Where men aren’t men and women aren’t women. We are all just one “being” living all unequal lives. Where has the sanity in this gone? We don’t know. Nobody knows the answer because the answer is gone.
I would lay down my coat for you
Today or any other
But today, maybe only if you asked
And I’m still unsure about that other question-
If I would die for you
See, I’ve been thinking a lot lately
More than usual- I know, that’s almost impossible, right?
We’re smiling now
I can tell- there’s so much [about us] I can tell
But the question remains
I’ve been thinking about how much I want to die,
Or not
And how much you do
Then, adversely, how much each of us lives, really
It strikes me that we’re so different,
It’s like saving a scorpion and killing an ant
Why not? and why? both
No, it’s like saving one human and sacrificing another
Sometimes, I remember, I realize that, I wonder if
I’m only human
I wonder if, maybe, we could each save ourselves
Or maybe even each other
Think about the last thing you did: pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, taking his jacket as you ride off into the sunset to defeat the dragons of the world. It’s love as much as anything else, but a different kind of love. He’s the one, but you don’t want to sleep with him.
The princess knew the rules, bow, smile, wait for life to be lived for you. She tied a piece of cloth around the jouster’s weapon and squealed when she caught the flower he threw, but her eyes did not meet his and her thoughts were beyond the clouds.
Think about the last thing you did: pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, taking his jacket as you ride off into the sunset to defeat the dragons of the world. It’s love as much as anything else, but a different kind of love. He’s the one, but you don’t necessarily want to sleep with him.
as he passes her in the streets and becomes aware of her tiny gentle frame, he follows her and opens the door. as she passes him they share smiles in knowledge that there are still chivalrous people in the harsh streets of New York
The morning glories hung gracelessly limp on the front porch. His cowboy boots couldn’t kick this mood up and into a whistle or a tune; we were silent.
as the door opens and her hands don’t dare to touch the wood, he gives her a smile. allows her tiny frame to glide through the door frame and skip past him as she realizes there is still chivalry in her tainted world
The knight strode his trusty steed up to his lady in waiting.
“Oh my Lord! I thought Chivalry was dead!”
“It is dead, my lady. And now so are you!” He flipped up his helmet revealing his marked up bloody face. He went for her brains.
She would enjoy walking the earth in search of brains.
is dead. sometimes… glimpses of hope for a revolution pop up every so often. invitations, gifts, respect… probably a result of good intentions alone but still a desirable quality in anyone, particluarly a partner. missing the idea of this in dating, relationships, friendships, strangers.
It was War of the Rose that started this vicious chivalry between these two old families that ruled the city of Abenskar. It was short, yet very brutal war with severe casualties on both sides of the conflict. In the end it was just another normal day in Abenskar.
The red tide runs in my veins. Isn’t that interesting. Good thing I’ve a mind for chivalry, a gentle mind. I break my horses like we’re the same kind. No Roman bridles. No swift kicks.
Chivalry is a lost characteristic in modern day society. It is something that melted away with the industrial age of the great and progressive United States of America. Sadly I do not enjoy the modern society that we live in. I do not enjoy it at all. It is phony, misguided, and in need of a spiritual awakening to remember what is really important.
Eric lofted the lance from his squire and fitted it securely against his shoulder then chucked the horse forward along the railing. The knight opposite charged toward him in the same manner and he felt the fear rise in his stomach as he always did, but he battened it down and aimed for the neck.
Dust rises from where the horses hooves hit the ground. A crowd of hot, ill-clad people pretending they’re something they’re not cheer. Several figures stand out as looking less cheesy, but significantly more sweaty than the rest.
“Chivalry lives!” shouts the would-be-knight riding on his white horse which must look more impressive in his own mind.
It’s dead, he replied.
What?
That need I have to express my inherent superiority by pretending you require my presence to exist.
I hadn’t noticed, she sniffed.
There he was, sitting at the edge of the wall. Of all things, he should have been killing titans. But nooo.
They were having a goddamn picnic.
Why? Because hell, the stationary troups didn’t have much else to do. They were the safest of the groups, and while not as luxurious as the military troupes, life was good. So why was he, a member of the Scouting legion, sitting there?
Because Erwin. That was why.
It poured down like the rain would capture them a sweep them away. He looked at her drench in cold water shivering like a small wet puppy and he moved slightly over to her and placed his umbrella over her as he let his clean black tux become drench. She admired him for his chivalry.
She felt that she would never find another man who still abided by the rule of women. A man who would open doors for her, kiss the back of her hand, give her all his cigarettes, or tuck stray hair behind her ear. She felt as though she would never feel a man kiss her more sweetly or more deeply than he had, his breath which smelled of thick lager and his tongue which tasted like cigarettes and 1955.
Knights in shining armor are chivalrous. Anyone nowadays is not.
Chivalry is an arbitrary notion of how one should treat a supposedly ‘noble’ man. While it makes for rather light-hearted entertainment at the expense of the poor, ignoble peasant class, it ignores the fact that you are still a fucking moron.
Up here, everything is cold. The weather is cold, the buildings are cold, the people are cold. Holding doors, politeness, being called Miss and darlin’ every where I went are thing I miss from the south. Up here, my soul grows cold, and I feel alone, I miss home. I want my Southern warmth back.
Praises were sung through serpid teeth
while the morning sun spit fire on the distant hawthorns.
By night, the morphose is complete,
a temptrid serpent about your lion breast does lie
and from your flesh, she eats.
chivalry is dead
or rather it was never alive to be dead
the concept that one sex deserves something the other doesn’t
seems draconian
sure, being polite is
part of living in a society
but if you don’t give what you get
you aren’t owed what you want.
The snake that sung your praises previously,
as the Toyons on the hill are lit by fire the of the morning sun’s delight,
wraps herself around your lion breast
to squeeze out the last oily drop.
The chivalry of today’s news and downward spiral of current affairs, has my mind boggled. It’s hard enough to get up every day, work a job of disgust, get a meager paycheck and pay so many taxes I can’t live comfortably. What a life.
chivarly the fire engine red brilliant windmill saves her kitty watching nothing ever comes to chivalry the down hero with the up opened skies
he was like a knight in shining armour. all glitter and glow, polish and shine. he was a perfect gentleman, holding out a hand to help her up, to carry her off into her fairytale ending. perhaps a little too perfect in the end.
knights in shining armor
ride along the bay.
the day they found
the kingdom’s king
was not today.
with swords up high
and words away
they’ll have to save him
another day.
“Always open the door for a lady,” My mother would insist as she would stand in front of a door waiting for me to open it.” Chivalry never dies.”
Modern chivalry is using proper grammar and spellchecking when you break up with your girlfriend over SMS.
chivalry’s like fun. you hold a door open for a fat kid who’s not tall enough to reach the door and you’re a cool person. but then one time I heard that chivalry was dead. so that means either the door died, the Me died, or the fat kid died. Doors can’t die. and I aint dead yet… so I guess that means that poor little fat kid died. brothers and sisters, when you hear chivalry, think of that little boy, and go make yourself a salad. and stop drinking coffee or something.
A friend liked to claim that he was all about chivalry – even after he had gotten seven drinks poured down his shirt, nine slaps in the face, and at least two jabs to the nutsack over one week alone. It was hard to remind him that being chivalrous and being overtly forward were two entirely different things, because he wouldn’t budge on what he believed was the true path of romance.
Last time I checked, someone hit him in the head with a baseball bat.
He didn’t even bother to open my door for me. Didn’t look me in the eye.
Chivalry is something Jenna didn’t think existed. Not that she thought it was “dead” as others said. No, Jenna was convinced that it never existed in the first place.
“Guys always have been, and always will be, too egotistical to care about the people they’re ‘helping’ more than they care about how charming or brave or manly it makes them look,” she thought; “It’s for them.”
She looked over at a junior boy asking a hot freshman if she needed help with her books. The girl responded exactly as expected, laughing flirtatiously and protesting a couple of times before handing over her books to that satisfied smile, a smile looking to score, a smile that knew nothing about this girl and didn’t care.
“It’s always for them.”
Jenna hated chivalry. And she hated when guys pretended they practiced it.
A warming hope that follows me throughout my day.
How you’ve astounded me! Why yes, you’ve gone astray
from the madness and perplexing drama of every day.
Well now, what a score. I do say, I vote for more!
Hold my hand, cut my meat. Open a door, rub my feet!
I have no clue what this word means. This is a very odd website and I have no clue what I am doing. Hello, this is Dog. I’m really bored now. Oh well, it said to not think so here I go………………………. I’m bored again………………………
She wore boots with the damn pants. I mean I couldn’t even open a door for her because she’d smash through the damn glass panels before we got ten feet away.
It’s been a great day in age where chivalry is no more. Where men aren’t men and women aren’t women. We are all just one “being” living all unequal lives. Where has the sanity in this gone? We don’t know. Nobody knows the answer because the answer is gone.
I would lay down my coat for you
Today or any other
But today, maybe only if you asked
And I’m still unsure about that other question-
If I would die for you
See, I’ve been thinking a lot lately
More than usual- I know, that’s almost impossible, right?
We’re smiling now
I can tell- there’s so much [about us] I can tell
But the question remains
I’ve been thinking about how much I want to die,
Or not
And how much you do
Then, adversely, how much each of us lives, really
It strikes me that we’re so different,
It’s like saving a scorpion and killing an ant
Why not? and why? both
No, it’s like saving one human and sacrificing another
Sometimes, I remember, I realize that, I wonder if
I’m only human
I wonder if, maybe, we could each save ourselves
Or maybe even each other
Think about the last thing you did: pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, taking his jacket as you ride off into the sunset to defeat the dragons of the world. It’s love as much as anything else, but a different kind of love. He’s the one, but you don’t want to sleep with him.
Andy was nearly dead.Robyn did not waste her time on chivalry,”I have always hated you,”she whispered .
The princess knew the rules, bow, smile, wait for life to be lived for you. She tied a piece of cloth around the jouster’s weapon and squealed when she caught the flower he threw, but her eyes did not meet his and her thoughts were beyond the clouds.
Think about the last thing you did: pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, taking his jacket as you ride off into the sunset to defeat the dragons of the world. It’s love as much as anything else, but a different kind of love. He’s the one, but you don’t necessarily want to sleep with him.
as he passes her in the streets and becomes aware of her tiny gentle frame, he follows her and opens the door. as she passes him they share smiles in knowledge that there are still chivalrous people in the harsh streets of New York
The morning glories hung gracelessly limp on the front porch. His cowboy boots couldn’t kick this mood up and into a whistle or a tune; we were silent.
as the door opens and her hands don’t dare to touch the wood, he gives her a smile. allows her tiny frame to glide through the door frame and skip past him as she realizes there is still chivalry in her tainted world
The knight strode his trusty steed up to his lady in waiting.
“Oh my Lord! I thought Chivalry was dead!”
“It is dead, my lady. And now so are you!” He flipped up his helmet revealing his marked up bloody face. He went for her brains.
She would enjoy walking the earth in search of brains.
is dead. sometimes… glimpses of hope for a revolution pop up every so often. invitations, gifts, respect… probably a result of good intentions alone but still a desirable quality in anyone, particluarly a partner. missing the idea of this in dating, relationships, friendships, strangers.
It was War of the Rose that started this vicious chivalry between these two old families that ruled the city of Abenskar. It was short, yet very brutal war with severe casualties on both sides of the conflict. In the end it was just another normal day in Abenskar.
Chivaltry is becoming a non-existent emotion in our life. gone are the days of shinning knights in armour adn galloping horses to remind of chivalry
The red tide runs in my veins. Isn’t that interesting. Good thing I’ve a mind for chivalry, a gentle mind. I break my horses like we’re the same kind. No Roman bridles. No swift kicks.