Best Disquieted Poems


Premium Member Quietus

In a mire brewed
betwixt puddles of hell and mute dissent 
a martyr wades - 
weighed down by chains of shame and disdain
alas the thirsting self-absorbed swamp
distills and swills her stewed silence 
and swallows the last embers 
from her goblet of dreamer’s fire 

pursed breaths are pickpocketed by the shallows  
in a breathless vertical twist 
an escapist is lost in the swirl of a chambered nautilus 
distanced and deserted in the dance of descent

stillness belies the waterline’s greed 
as a heroine’s salvage is suffocated -
the slick of self-appointed apathy anoints the surface
and a disquieted wind rises to bend the will of reeds 
their flutes airing plainsong in forced supplication 
yet carelessly cast away like spindrift from broken crests
while storm clouds blindfold wide-eyed skies
stifling any play of sun on water


Susan Ashley
May 1, 2020


~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1
Sponsor: Mark Toney


~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Spiral
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Categories: disquieted, angst, conflict, dark, depression,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Unrequited

Unrequited

The things i think about,
never settle below
they float instead
and fester inside
as I pluck your name in the air
a sacred memory folds over
foaming layers, floating vapors
Creating a chill and then a stupor
the last draw of my breath
I slipped again, I stripped
you tripped in the end
Even if you stay in your lane
But you’re driving insane
so much distance between two cars
its impossible to hear
Muffled by the wind, carried away the fear
I tried to speak, but the sound
Never carried over
It rises an ache in my throat
nerves are calmed, noise is stifled
legs are stiffened, feet planted
hands firmly gripped
elbows abutted
in a world prone to forget
my memory stays etched
in your fractured mind
my taste stayed on the lips
of the one I've left behind
a fleeting moment
Betrayed by lust unveiled the trust
between the blinks of my eye
You remain a distant memory
The pain has abated
the speed is indeed fleeting
Forgotten with the past
in the throes between two fires
the faded lines, the dying embers
Looms over like the sun
So I say, you cannot stay
Isn’t that off-putting?
A broken soul
With a spirit so agile
My body so fragile,
with just one touch,
you peel my layers
like the sprouting weeds
between the pavement
the truth wants to be known
My touch so brief,
and yet it lingered
Overstayed its welcome
And in the horizon
It stretched, it lagged on
And with your imagination
My skin rubbed raw,
My voice cracked, I cringed
I become unhinged
My heart will always be disquieted
Your love forever unrequited
© Rowe Weiss  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: disquieted, angst, change, conflict, desire,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Voice of Her Mother- My Daughter's Gift

I've written the lyrics to two lullabies for my daughter, Shereen. I even made 
up the tunes, and I'd sing to her when she was a baby to put her to sleep. She 
still remembers those songs at 19 years of age. For my birthday last May, she 
wrote this poem as a gift....just like last year. The quoted parts are words taken from the lullabies. I adore my daughter, my greatest and most precious gift.

“When she smiles, I feel like a bird in the sky.”
The words softly sung to the weary child-
This bundle of whimpers
This armful of distress-
Hoping they’d ease her restlessness
Hoping they’d calm her disquieted heart…
And they did. 
Like nothing else ever could.
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

“She is the apple of my eye.”
Rocking gently in time with the tune, she swiftly fell 
Fell into a peaceful slumber 
Nuzzled in the warmth of her consoler 
Whimpers softened, distress vanished 
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother. 

“With laughter and joy she fills my heart”
Nestled in that kind embrace
The child, now almost grown
With tear-stained face and heavy heart
Couldn't fight the world alone
But whenever she was breaking, too tired to go on
She’d search for those same words-
To ease her restlessness
To calm her disquieted heart…
She’d search for those same words
To find them in those same arms.
And she’d fall. Like she always did.
Fall into that peaceful slumber
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

Written by Shereen Nathalie Ghali (May 18, 2014)

Please read The Month of May...which is Shereen's first birthday poem written for me and posted here. You will find it if you type the title in PS's search engine. It is a beauty and is in rhyme.
Categories: disquieted, birthday, mother daughter, song,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Mortal Poets

Which is it: you can't get started unless
you're riding some current bigger than your reporting voice
or the best time to write is when you don't have much to say
and without plenty to say about everything you'll get better right away.

Form is very often a betrayal of reality
or, although we are initially drawn to poems by their passion and urgency,
we are convinced by the formal means invented
for their impelling motives. Every accidental crack or dent.

Not just mildly disquieted but actively repelled,
running for the River Styx, the doors of Hell pell mell,
there must be a crack, deep and unmendable, in the poet
that the poet must forever try to mend. Or not.

While mortal poets imitate, immortal poets steal.
That's plagiarism. Fortunately the public feels
less strongly about poetry than television,
communism and aging gracefully through meditation.

Now I'm being silly. My silly indefatigable lusting,
silly sadness, silly arguing and silly trusting.
All I do not know about our nation's history, wars
and what showering the people you love with love does.

Ransacking apothegms, algorithms
and selling the loot as memes,
dissemblings. Or bearing fardels
with the warrior's skull.
Categories: disquieted, age, betrayal, love, memory,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Poetry

You are my poetry; sapphire blue, sandlewood scented ink, 
painting you and I cradled in intimate metaphors,
though you lay thousands of miles away; 
storing urgent longings of my heart in ardent daydreams, 
till tender moments can be shared, and made legendary.

Words come spilling, clinging together, from memory,
flowing through my trembling hands; 
writing I love you backwards and forth,
scribing you as the most fragile part of me,
yet my strongest connection. 

I write you beautiful in imagery; 
Nairobi gold; the blazing noon sun,
the black velvet curtains drawn round me,
never to be disquieted, hour of midnight;
inhales and exhales that slip from my lips as low moans.

You are my poetry, the fevered forbidden dance
etched upon pages as detonating verses with passionate probes, 
till words become silent, where they have no place.
And I let pen fall from hand, to dare dream real
behind the veil of my eyes, as I lay me down.
Categories: disquieted, love, passion, sad, i
Form: Free verse

The Moon Looked Like a Cat Burglar

The moon looked like a cat burglar that crisp November night;
clear skies but for one dark band splashed across his sight. 
His guise arcane and sinister, and try hard as I might, 
I couldn't help but wonder who he'd prey upon with spite. 

An air of eerie stillness fell, as he cast cool silver light, 
foretelling of his felony, contriving someone's cruel plight. 
His luminance trespassed the land as he rose to his full height; 
a meticulous surveillance to plan his act of sleight. 

Disquieted I crept inside, closed the door, pulled curtains tight, 
still his glow transuded every room setting all my fears alight. 
Adrenalin took over, but far too scared to fight, 
I sheltered 'neath the duvet to wait for morning bright. 

Next morn I tiptoed down the stairs, fists clenched, my knuckles white, 
but everything was in its place, the moon had taken flight. 
I don't know why he visited, maybe just to be polite, 
but I had uneasy feelings he'd return at next twilight.


**for 'Monorhyme Madness'
Categories: disquieted, angst, funnymoon,
Form: Monorhyme


I Must Have Dreamed You Here

Thy love hath possessed me, and consumed mine every thought. 

An inescapable prisoner; handed an irrevocable sentence of love.

Thy memory hath become my ever constant companion, my dearest friend.  

My imagination carries mine heart to thee.

I have dreamt thee so close that I could almost hear the beat of thy heart.

How strong the illusion and how intolerably cruel when it vanishes in the night.

I languish in love and longing akin to pain.

I reach for thee in my dreams only for you to disappear on the whim of a touch.

Mine soul is disquieted in me; a raging storm of rapture and despair.

How long, shalt I mourn for thee? How long till I hold more than your memory?

Tis more than I can bear, but alas I will close mine eyes to sleep ,and once again 

meet you there.
Categories: disquieted, girlfriend-boyfriend, love, passion, longing,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Scars of the Soul

Scar-instilled lessons…
Bring me to grateful cogitations' engagements
Since soul speaks of human’s “self-consciousness.”
Affirming that scars are the path to the soul.

I have become “a living soul…”
Such is God-wrought mystery revealed by my Mother’s scar
Thru her cut when she gave birth to me, that I’m thankful for.
Indeed, my mother’s scar declares great value of my soul… my life.

Then I learned of the Saviour Who sacrificed Himself…
Bearing bruises and wounds to pay for my iniquities;
In trusting Him, I’m granted life eternal.
Thus, His cross-scarred body assured my soul’s redemption.

Spiritually, I have scars that show my once sin-inflicted pain…
When I languished in misery, gripped with guilt
Groping for fleshly triumph, I felt futile and worthless.
Now, scars serve as avenues toward soul-humbling before God for help.

My scars remind me of my cry for heavenly aid…
When I was excruciating from my downfall’s discomfort
Ailing due to failure-frustration with bitterness’ oppression. 
Today, those scars lead me to God’s throne for soul and faith's revival.

In moments of anguish-haunt, I serenely behold at my scars
Divinely healed, I express with the Psalmist in the Scriptures:
 “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? 
Hope in God*: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance.” 

*Psalm 43:5 Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.

October 1, 2018
1st place, "Verses of Metaphors II" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Laura Loo; judged on 10/7/2018.
Categories: disquieted, 1st grade, appreciation, christian,
Form: Free verse

Imprisioned Mind

Swirling conscience
twirling,endless motions
infinite commuting commotion
tranquil,sweet Mother nature serene peaceful scenes 
disquieted murmur of clouded dreams
swimming with trepidation in the worlds murky sea
obviously forgetting natures high's, and beautiful trees
noisy ruckus, anxiety ridden uncivilized under sea
feeling's for emancipating for needs
beautiful, pristine of nature will agree
enticing, alluring, seductive, she wants your peace   
imprisoned mind's cannot see what beauty lies for our smothered souls too see.
Categories: disquieted, angel, anxiety, cry, dream,
Form: Rhyme

Route 91 To Chaos

Chaos erupted in beds of trucks
As victims ran and ducked, fragile
And scared, as if the gunman cared
As hot projectile tore through 59 souls
While another madman’s wicked 
Intentions remain untold, as to why 59 had
To die...enthralled in fun, frantic they run
Or lay breathing the thoughts of pain
Never to breathe hope again.

This heartless mire of evil ran amok,
Though thousands by sheer luck
Blessed to duck, or shield a life, a wife.
Killed in heroic chaotic love, only comes
From above the clouds of disquieted
Dismay of another day the dead bombarded
The graves to soon, before noon we’ll
Question our faith, and accept their fate
As life’s chaotic hate, now it’s too late.

Guns to protect, yet we suspect the killers
Respect no laws or cause - let us pause
Our prayers as our dead climb the stairway
To Heaven. A moment of silence to stop 
The violence, we chant rhetoric, make
Hectic the traffic jams, not giving a damn
For the innocent life taken by gun, or knife.
Life matters not to the one with a gun, as we
Run in chaotic retort of excuses for the uses
Of chaotic gun owners and loaners of death.

Chaotic it seems, we dream of a better tomorrow
To borrow money to dance and by chance make
It home unscathed to sunbathe on a beach as 
We teach our children chaotic love comes only
From above the heavens where angels dangle
Or prayers in layers of chaotic hope so earth can 
Cope with another year of pain by the chaotic insane.
© Sona Wilae  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: disquieted, anger, bereavement, death, death
Form: Dramatic Verse

Just One Touch Lord

Though I am troubled by problems and cares,
My soul is disquieted, and I offer prayer.
Lord, my only son is very sick, and needs your touch
I ask for your help, for I love him so much.

He is my only son Lord, and I am a widow too.
I don’t want to worry you, but I don’t know what else to do.
Just one touch Lord, I’m sure that he’ll be healed.
Lord I ask you with Faith, Just say the word and let your glory be revealed.
Categories: disquieted, god, prayer, religious, sick,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Uncontrollable Muse

Where my hopes meet with
My dreams, heartfelt
Joy and brilliant imaginings kiss
Away the doubts, the demons
Who tempt me to listen
To the darkness, the dread, the depression
All the anxious that lives within
Where my skeptic is my biggest sinner…

There, amid the uncertainty
Knowing only a measure of hope,
Disquieted by the distrust, the mediocrity
I resolve to listen to the light
Who falls across the night and remembers
Stardust images erasing the timidness,
Freeing the inner joy, the music
Dancing through forever, promising
Pleasures that inspire fanciful,
Fantastic fantasies, happiness – elated
Wonders beyond description

Where I know the meaning of sweetness,
My muse reveals the soul’s breath
Mystery, blinding secrets who calm the darkness,
Erasing the past’s demonic screams
Coloring the future in vibrant hues of soothing
Blues and ecstatic yellows, purples
Who enchant and enliven, bright red – scarlet
Laughing across forever, reviving the spirit
So even the darkness is beyond grief,
It is like the song of grace has finally abandoned
Her heart to the knowing – the assurance
That miracles invite change,
Marvels so abundant in these days
Hold the key to forever, the amazing
The fantasy sighs, then sings
Across the pines, through the forest
Stirring waters in liquid clarity

This is where my light touches life
With humbling healing,
Magnificent music, peaceful like
Heaven who knows the way
Into the spectacular, the encouraging
Dance dreaming, drifting, destiny
Fulfilled inside the beating of a heart
Designed for more than earth,
A heart predestined for the fantasy
Who kisses away every reservation
With fanciful feelings, imaginary
Images, fiction focused
On giving the listener, a reality
Built on beautiful, brilliant
Based on the laughter, the feeling
Who fantasies know as the reflection
Breathing into my forever,
Hypnotizing, mesmerizing, beguiling
Every moment with captivating…

This fantasy, imaginary – is air to my soul
My muse, who can’t be controlled





Wave Of Fantasy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
February 6, 2023
Categories: disquieted, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

Have You Ever Hidden An Ide Before

Have You Ever Hidden an Ide Before?

To where would I be riding and abiding?

If and when I ran over a Glad Tiding

Who had forgotten to bring his starch

Then turned out being in an ide of March.


I never have had an ide before

But taken for ride and ended up sore

Then when I marched into an ide

He and I crushed together and did collide.


Then when the ide became my idol

What would be hos omnipotent title

But when you lied and are an ide

Where will you be able to abide?


Could see ide was approaching shore

And not sure what he was looking for

Was it me not bright and being so dumb

So an ide someday will soon become.

What if I had been an ide honest and true?

Would I still be loved by all of you?


Can you really believe this for real

Ide was determined to be ideal

And of whole part that was so scary

They became Moe, Curly, Terry and Larry.


If you read this poem that I have done

You probably would be the only one

Who left your falsies in a frosted fridge

Then was thrown from London Bridge.


Couldn't resist. Yes, we both are getting excited

And one day by Queen may be knighted

Being great friends you will be invited

And all of England has become disquieted.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
The falsies I was referring to was teeth replacements.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: disquieted, humorous, introspection,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Us and Them

We are us,
They are them,
A complex mixture,
Of women and men,

We want peace,
They want war,
They don't abide by any law
No matter how much we implore,

It is clear
They do not want to hear,
What we have to say
They do not understand,

Things don't always go as planned,
We did not want this unrest,
Peace is what we like the best.
We have put on a brave face.

And keeping up with the pace,
With foes.
Who keeps us on our toes.
As we soldier on,

With spirit so strong.
Keeping faith that we will see
Our victory
Before too long.

Us United     Them disquieted.
Categories: disquieted, 10th grade,
Form: Rhyme

How Sure Can This Be

”It may not be what I want
It may end up just like the last one
Not even sure he is the one
Staying back seems my only level ground”

The struggle between desire and certainty
Is now fiercer than once conceived
Toughened by whispering experiences
Hopping out from the now disquieted heart

Shadows of the past once buried deep down
Reawakened and vividly hunting
Now you are about to cross that bridge
And avoid the river in whose depths you almost drowned

Hiding since then within your safe shell
Makes you feel secured and warm in the cold night.
Sun rays now beaming seem to catch your eyes
But you can’t but quiver at the thought of the scotching sun.

This thing has eaten up you till the plate became so empty.
Seen so happy and friendly yet no remedy.
But you can’t continue to starve for fear of poison.
You have to take that step even when you see no landing.

Then only will you experience the freedom of trust,  
The joy in risks and the relief an extra hand can bring.
Don’t forget, the proof of the pudding is in the eating
It is now left for you to pick a cutlery.
Categories: disquieted, feelings, growing up,
Form: Quatrain
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