Best Indefinable Poems


Premium Member All of Life Is a Poem

Poetry is the power of defining the indefinable
             in terms of the unforgettable  
                                         ~ LOUIS UNTERMEYER

all of life is a poem
sometimes the inkwell is empty
the quill rests
the deer pants for a stream
but finds only hardscrabble land

all of life is a poem
as we rearrange its lines
to find rhyme in mayhem
          beauty in chaos
          reason in ambiguity
          hope in a dungeon

all of life is a poem
sometimes
sometimes it gets put into
                                                    words


Written 22 Feb 2021
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: indefinable, poems,
Form: Free verse

Ugliness

Lip stained ugliness
On my detrimental brow
Transcends the insignificance
Of union unbound
By tides indefinable
Even her skeleton is beautiful
Categories: indefinable, confusion,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Wonders



There’s something about dew, glistening,
	Wistful and wishing,
		Clinging to quiet petals,
			Gently hugging…

There’s something about mist, indefinable,
	Hazy as a shadow,	
		Haunting the heart,
			Heavy with hope…

There’s something about shafts of light,
	Creating a trembling desire,
		Coloring the spirit fiery,	
			Urging reflections, rising…

There’s something about stars, glistening,	
	Trembling in the skies,
		Singing joy through the night,
			Falling, smiling, exciting…

There’s something about a song, inspiring,
	Drifting through the heart,
		Flowing joy into the soul,
			Harmony that won’t let go…

There’s something about rain, lightly kissing,
	Stirring the soul to a brave,
		Beyond the fear, 
			Aching, daring, audacious…

There’s something about silence, tempting,
	Heartening the colors who last,
		Sensations of blue, azure,
			Like the seas, shores so true…

There’s something about a bible, wisdom,
	Poured out on the one who looks,
		Between the pages, the ages,
			Discovering its truth, so amazing…

There’s something about His presence,
	It feels like love overflowing,
		Grace that is softly glowing,
			Stirring the melody of His calling…

There’s something about this pen,
	When it seeks only Him,
		Joy falls in inky shimmers,
			Reflecting a love that is indispensable…

There’s something about the simple things,
	The music, the trees, the heart that believes,
		When time ends and life stands still,
			There is the promise of eternal peace…

There’s something about living for God,
	Hearts are blessed beyond words,
		Seeking Him is worth all the hurt,
			He is the One who transforms bad to good…

There’s something about knowing Jesus,
	Restoring the heart with His reasons,
		To live with the hope of eternity,
			Beside the One who is so worthy….

There’s something about every living thing,
	Wherever I look, I find His creativity,	
		Signs that He is and He will forever be,
			The answer, the light, the love that I need…

I’m so thankful to know the One who lived and died for me!
Categories: indefinable, appreciation, blessing, christian, faith,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Friends

Ah, life, indefinable concept, 
  The engine that roars, purrs or dies; 
Inspiring or damning or neutral, 
  Sincere or a tissue of lies. 

My friend, I must tell of emotions, 
  Crush adversity into the dirt; 
We should dance like there's nobody watching, 
  And love like it's not going to hurt. 

People say friends should hold hands 
  To show they eternally care; 
But real friends don't, they already know 
  The other hand always is there. 

I love you but we're not in love, 
  My soul mate who so comprehends; 
We need only be there for each other, 
  For such is the nature of friends.
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: indefinable, friendship, life, love, love,
Form: Verse

Three

Thence they come, these thoughts again
As I brood, on mind thus dimmed
Fraught with doubt, crossed by light
Naught but rout, mine sublime such night

Shall I muse on love or war
Fall on fuse or seek Paramour

Laugh or cower in shadows of mire
Caraf or bower or madness my sire...



First is love, that Venus sin venal
That gloves us, that makes great what might be menial
Ye Gods that strike us and make us wonder
What askance could discover, instead we blunder

Next is war, to which we hasten, alight
Vex't too far, we hurry, eyes red bright
For what do we stand, for what reason we fall
For lauds or bands, or glory for all

Last is madness, that indefinable mount
Fast it abandons, leaves a cur, a lout
Yet while in this life it hobbles, in-famy arraigns
In eternity recorded is all but fame

William* knew love, was a master unmatched
In his words our nature unmasked, unlatched

Lee* was a genius, in a cause infamous
The perfect warrior, strong-gentle-just

Poe* was a daemon, Pandora, of dark
Yet lauded after, today our 'Goth' art

Which embodiment was true, was pure?
Which could you most admire, follow, ENDURE?

Could you follow if combin'd in all
As Dumas* once quipped, one for all?

What human could be them, combine in power
Would he be tyrant, belov'd?-Sought?-cowered?

Was he Alexander, of whom knowledge bereft
Was he then Caesar, Cleo*-love, General, Epilept*?

I know not who embodied - genii* of three
Yet at some point existed this man, tri-breed

I know which of these I am, maybe
Yet which one are ye, God damned though may be
if needs must decree ye must be
choose from these distinct sep-equal* three.



* Notes

William - William Shakespeare
Lee - Robert E. Lee
Poe - Edgar Allan Poe
Dumas - Alexandre Dumas
Cleo - Cleopatra
Epilept - Epileptic 
Genii - distinctive character or spirit, as of a nation, 

period, or language (plural) 
*Sep-equal - Separate but equal
Categories: indefinable, introspection, on writing and
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Manchester Ship Canal - Part Two

Stilled again across the canals broadening 
Girth;
Mesh cages of rock-filled Gabions 
Reinforcing patches of exposed and arid earth,
Reflecting the glints that gleefully
Twist and dance in the hot glare of the sun...
Provoking images and stirring indefinable feelings
That begin to irrevocably up and run;
Pictures and voices crowding into my mind:
Immersing me in the flooding moments 
To which i am briefly resigned.

Now momentarily staid by the shimmering
Instance
In which i find myself inextricably caught,
Perplexed by something rather intangible,
Seeming almost to tease and laugh
Whilst confounding upon my evasive and
Fleeting thoughts;
As glancing across at the opposite bank
Where drawn up a line of densely packed trees..
I swore...I heard the reel of a high squealing
Fiddle -
Playing ever so briefly alongside a tricky little
Breeze.

For stood there I, wondering,
On a grey painted swing-bridge:
Of brightly painted Steamers, dirty Trampers 
And of double masted white canvassed Brigs.
Oh! The everlasting glory of a New World order 
Redefined:
Entrusted to those instructed in her Majesties 
Construction of sprawling Victorian sublimes!
The men who heroically dug, picked, blasted and 
Strove:
To securely fasten an Iron cast girdle around 
An ever diminishing blue globe.

Dreaming of long ago, dutiful, Golden-Age days
Rigorously pursued down, what are now,
Weed strewn, abandoned byways.
Faustian clothing and a Velveteens cap;
The thick buckled leather gaiters held about
By the strap.
Many the word spoken in a soft southern brogue:
All hail the glorious navigators -
The navvies of old!

Staunch and desperate men forced to resign 
Their native Gaelic shores
And burden unto themselves with
Mattocks, shovels and garishly painted-up whores.
Under the high flaming beacons
And over the obscure little brow -
They carved out the new waterways
To float the laden down prow.
Yes! Men of the Emerald Isles
I salute you and your kinsfolk 
From lands cast westwards afar:
The magnificent "Paddies" from the verdant island -
Of Erin-Go-Bragh!
Categories: indefinable, history, travel,
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Cascade Adventures --- Pt 2

The day would pass in blissful brightness, with our brains on auto-pilot. The stories we'd tell and the memories we'd conjure up from years past, one couldn't help but think we were all running on about four pots of coffee each with the energy that was pumping through our veins. From jokes about serial killers in the woods, wondering if we were ever gonna find the lake, to the constant face-palms of: Why-didn't-we-do-this-sooner? and We-should-do-this-more-often! It was an indefinable mix of regret at having not done this earlier, and joy at the prospect of more to come.

To this day I can still recall the feeling of sitting by the shore of Hidden Lake, watching the sun set behind the tall mountain peaks that threatened to shatter the sky, knowing full well what would happen if I didn't gather wood for the fire soon. The darkness would encroach, and the temperature would drop to such that even the leaves themselves might shiver. The sun took his role once more as the proverbial clock, and the moon, his mistress, would instill within us that feeling of yearning long buried beneath decade's worth of city distractions.

Joel would be chopping sticks and logs, and Monica would prepare the sausages for the fire, while the rest of the gang (Jonathan, Brandon and I) struggled with setting up tents. Deeply knit eyebrows, tongue stuck out in deep concentration, as if anticipating future interstellar flight. It came to me shortly after, once the pegs were pegged, flaps were zipped, that if by some miracle Buzz Aldrin stepped into the woods on that fine snowy evening, he'd happily affirm my suspicions: it's not rocket science, folks.

The mirror of the lake would turn into molasses when the sun finally set. The flashlights would be drawn, cutting into the night like light-sabers or futuristic cyclops if headlamp is more your style. The rest of the crew were all huddled around a crackling fire, and I'd be changing into my skivvies not 10 feet away. Why?

Because I could.

coals smolder
a spark cleaves
to the sky
Categories: indefinable, adventure, beauty, childhood, confidence,
Form: Haibun

No Tomorrows

Have you ever stopped yourself 
when thinking of your present life and
wishing for a better tomorrow?
Then realized tomorrow is elusive.

Indefinable like an illusion,
as tomorrow is always close
but too far to reach,
yet with patience tomorrow always becomes today.

Tomorrow, the savior of yesterday’s guilty misdeeds
and cradle of our hopes and dreams,
is vindicated by the Holy One who spreads the coldness of warm dirt 
over our tomorrows to comfort beleaguered hearts.

All those yesterdays that depleted our strength
with the daily tedium of everyday chores
tolerating the many crosses one must bear 
amid the many prayers inculcated with hopeful expectations,

Those dastardly tomorrows that consumed our waking hours,
where are they now?
Mostly forgotten, as children forget old discarded toys,
but we cling to other embedded memories  
that sit and fester like malignant sores.

Someday, our tomorrows will be used up
and all pain and queries will dissolve 
into the abyss of nothingness, 
and we will experience a new narrative

That at that time of final repose, we will rejoice 
and kick our heels and sing the old ***** spiritual
free at last, free at last, good God almighty, we're free at last!

(last two lines borrowed from Dr. Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech)
Categories: indefinable, hope, philosophy, religious,
Form: Prose

Tis Rap

Intro: ×4

I've got something in my head
  (In my head) 

Rap:

feeling you're winning is a feeling you're losing
and winning is the feeling losing is missing
taking undertaking is the bidding and trailing
we're making and grooming, processing our motive
feeling you're living is a feeling you're dieing
and dieing is the feeling living is pruning
wailing and crying are products of our making
feeling what I'm saying?

Black lives matter? 
You're white, black, purple, indigo, violet or
racism monger
trained by wiles, shame pain or poverty, you should see
much better
what defines man: tribe, clan, languages or what such
can offer
in your world, home, town, places of worship
or cafeteria!

Here's myopia: Folly's godfather
what were you thinking, that you're better?
you've got oxygen, and he's got fire?
you feel blood surging, but he feels nada?
cos you're stupid, and have gone brainless
that when you 'em, you become restless
insecurity then becomes your crest
hunger to kill 'em then becomes your bread

     Y'all are supposed to be all these:

indestructible, inevitable, indivisible, indescribable, indefinable,
inexpressible, imperishable, indissoluble, inevasible, incorruptible
  (not)
unapproachable, unappealable, unappeasable, inaccessible, impracticable,
insurmountable, unavailable, unobtainable, inexorable, indomitable
      (Out-of-the-way)

    ~Freestyle~
      '20:06:25:10:45

Watch here: https://youtu.be/yznUow5wW1E
Categories: indefinable, rap,
Form: Sonnet

Mind Games

I am a waterfall in the desert.
A rain from a cloudless sky. 
A well known but unborn child. 
An insistence experience 
that you never had. 

I play mind games with your brain. 
When you strike the keys 
and remember the sea 
I come as indefinable memory. 
When you look at your watch 
and the time has passed
you feel me like a fleeting hallucination.

I play mind games with your brain.
I’m nesting behind your eyes.
I’m ranging through your dreams.
You are finding me in all of your desires. 
In all of those are absent from you. 

I play mind games with your brain.
I stand in the places that you cannot reach. 
I exist where you cannot touch upon. 
But I am what you always waiting for 
I m what holds your life on. 

I play mind games with your brain. 
But I swear this is not fun.
I feel unbearable loneliness. 
Because I do not have a body 
And you, that you have, refuse it to me.
Categories: indefinable, art, life, people, political,
Form: Lyric

Out of the Shadows

What stirs around me is evasive and true 
A light appears over me glowing and spinning
I get a calm feeling when and ever it's due
People have seen it, gasping and pointing
They say "what was that, what did you just do?
There was a light spinning around, like a ring"
I always ask "what did it look like, what color hue?"
The usual answer is red and blue, what was that thing?

There was this family vacation where I was presumed dead
My older brother, a friend and I climbed up the back of Half Dome
We made it up Quarter Dome easily and wanted to push ahead
Half Dome was unreachable, six degrees of granite stone
We decided to go down it's face, through slides and lips
Cold winds chilled us as the sunshine elapsed
As darkness finally came, we found ledge where we could sit
Stuck halfway down, we blamed each other as the night passed
Suddenly we saw distant flashlights, a rescue team? We yelled
A group of five climbers made their way over to us
They thought we were a rescue team, sent up when night fell
Finding only three kids who had absolutely nothing
They questioned us, where was our spotlight, ropes and pins?
After a full inquisition about our flood light,  they quit talking
At daybreak we all repelled down in an eerie silence
Finally down, we all shook hands, no one had died
Blue lipped, weak and in disbelief, we bowed to pray
This halo had got us back to camp, where mom and dad cried
A hundred search and rescue had searched night and day

The reality of this aura is undeniable
A thousand close calls and brushes with death
Everyone has said it's just indefinable
Turning my head in time or steering East instead of West

I live day to day with a bullet in my spine, it's true
My back feels like a constant third degree sunburn
All the doctors could say was "Oh jeez, lucky you"
Pastors would come to pray over me, all in turn
This went on for weeks, until one even threw holly water
I barked "father, you do this to everyone here?"
He replied "you have a gift, we travel many miles to see your shimmer"
They had come just to see me, he left and I cried so many tears

My eyes still water up when I think about those days
There are no lessons here on how to escape fate
I can't even claim this glowing stays the same
Just my story of faith, light and how I was saved
Categories: indefinable, introspection
Form: Rhyme

At the Picnic

AT THE PICNIC

The friends of my five wives
Have this nefarious aura
Of having shared a secret.
Their eyes lowered
But when I ask them
What for
They only glance at each other
And smile,
Which only increases my desire 
To know.

Something they did
Long ago,
Heedless of the consequences
That left
Such an indefinable bitter palatableness.

Is that the explanation?
For the way
They rest their breasts
In the palms of each other’s hands,
Their eyes closed 
In the winter heat?









Come tell me
Or give me a hint.
Trace a word or just a single letter
In the wine
Spilled on the table.

No reply from any of them
With the waning sunlight
The breeze of the evening
On their faces.

They are freely drinking
And saying nothing
Dazed and mystified as they are
By their treacherous feminine power
To give
And to take away happiness
As if their heads
Were crawling with serpents.
Categories: indefinable, america, anxiety, betrayal,
Form: Prose Poetry

Ars Poetica

it'd be indefinable and unknown,
especially unknown! and these unknowns,
they'd complete us...

it'd start with a cosmic sentiment,
a serendipity that's bent
toward this infinite-in,
where love in a radiant bouquet
bursting to blossom would begin --

there, where there's a music in you
eager to play in a mellifluous-voice
which only the heart can hear,
and it'd take you into a melodious rhythm 'n roll,
a riff 'round the sound of a whirl'd
swelling with a kiss of bliss,
'tis this that'd speak in that uncommon tongue,
the Poetic one --

it'd risk absurdity in an u n f e t t e r e d language,
divested with an unbounded-eye,
(not limited to the fatal-skin yer' in,)
that'd look and look and dare to see,
the beauty of this conflicted sentimental-reality,
this creative-destruction outpouring
into the middle of things
where good Homer nods
over a potpourri that is the Art of Poetry
Categories: indefinable, allegory, art, love, music,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Strange Poets

strange poets never cease but to amaze
with words describing things we had forgot
or never knew to start with; who knows what  
may move another poet’s muse to phrase
the simply indescribable in rhyme
within a string of sentences enshrine
the essence of complexity sublime
with every word a jewel within a line
strange poets see things hidden in the light
and force the formless mist within to matter
express the indefinable and flatter
dead love to life and nothingness to sight;
by use of sense and symbol and the will
they stir to movement that which once was still

by Gail
Categories: indefinable, passion, poets, spoken word,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

Alga Rhythms

Juxtaposition,
Of ever-changing moments:
In dynamic love.
·
Emotions invert,
Colliding interfaces:
Of lost pulsing time.
·
Progressive attempts,
Indefinable feelings:
Of the human bond.
·
Opposed through the mess,
And in the dynamic end:
We mesh together.
Categories: indefinable, friendship, love
Form: Choka
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