Best Tunneled Poems


Premium Member Poet In Recluse

I relinquish my pen before the storm
of her tears falling upon my bare arm
her gentle whispering breathed in my ear
Muse of mine, adieu to your wit and charm

With piqued reasons I have come to deduce
It's time to say fond farewell to my muse
She should seek a new poet and lay claim
for my words have grown utterly abstruse

Spare me sullen eyes, from cries in refrain
I shall not weep in sadness nor disdain
Bitterness does not become a recluse
My poet's heart weakens, I dare not feign

Time's drawn the shades in darkness of night
No candle flame shall glimmer enough light
in which I may be tempted before morn
to doubt seclusion and attempt to write

Cloistered without pen, I shall ever be
From thinking in rhyme I shall be set free
Poems half written on bits of scrap paper
I shall lock away and then toss the key

My hand has retired, this last poem now penned
No more idyll thoughts of mind will transcend
Bereft of rhymes and abandoned of verse
This poet knows her time has reached an end

Ink no longer flows through my tunneled veins
Expressed emotions in poetry wanes
And when interred, on my stone I shall read,
"Reclusive poet" over my remains
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: tunneled, emotions, solitude,
Form: Rubaiyat

Premium Member The Ballerina

The Ballerina


The curtain parted...there upon the stage,
'neath bright chatoyant spotlight's glaring glow
she stood, a cynosure in tunneled beam;
demure, yet with ineffable glamor.

With lovely bow, this ingenue young girl,
composed, yet like a whirling breeze, began
her lissome ballet dance of twirls and swirls
to mellifluous sounds of violins.

A panacea of sweet calm filled up
my soul as she so gracefully succumbed
to call of violins and merged with them
in artful dance I wished sempiternal.

The beauty of her gracefulness in dance
enveloped me in deep, hypnotic trance.


Sandra M. Haight
Unrhymed Sonnet
Categories: tunneled, dance, emotions, music,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Tunnel Vision

Graffiti frames a tunneled tomb, beneath the city's core
where writings stretch upon the wall in dialects profaned
A hallmark and a tell-tale sign, but somehow, no one sees
Unspoken fears have set apart the lives that mingle here 

In every shade the masses grow, and mingle side by side 
Day, by day, the same routine, sardines until they die 
The writing on the tunneled walls is just a sign to come
that walls have grown to come between the hands of humankind

They board as one, but coldness churns through veins beneath the ground
Habits honed have deafened ears to echoes all around
Distance tumbles through the aisles, small words too frail to say
"How are you, what can I do to help you smile today?"

Too occupied for reaching out to be the other's friend 
No glance, no chance to say hello to the stranger by your side
No hands to grasp, no questions asked, just eyes in downward glance,
A phone in hand, whatever land, beyond all human touch

As seasons pass, left in the dust the silence breeds and feeds
more apathy, that beats the heart, as cold and hard as stone.. 
The sound of silence just rumbles on,  until the walls come down

_________________________________________________________
4/27/18
Categories: tunneled, people, places, society,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Last Dust

In open space free
Steel and glass enclosure
A small moving space confined
My possession of pride
Momentum propelled by young drive
A companion of trust.

The wingless bird
Tunneled timid air
Dust trailed the motion
Distance to sunrise horizon
Contracted like an accordion
Music under the bonnet.

Tread of twenty turning years
Took abrasive toll on patina of past
My adored Fiat Padmini senile
Rusted in immobile inertia
Old jalopy’s journey to junkyard
Raised the last dust
From the debris of my heart.

Written : July 22, 2019
May 19, 2020
Contest : Brian's Choice L
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Categories: tunneled, analogy, car, old,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member His Grace Is Relentless

HIS GRACE IS RELENTLESS

You called me from a million
but what did I do Father God?
 
You gave me eyes yet I chose to be blind
You gave me ears yet I chose to be deaf
You gave me mouth yet I chose to be mute
You gave me hands yet I chose to not share
You gave me feet yet I chose to turn my back

To Your call,
I said No
I did not stop
I run away
I opted to disobey You
So stubborn, I refused 
doing only what I want
what I like...

Left to right roads with trees,
cemented, rocky, sandy,
so many roads I walk through
believing I can without You Father God
but I was wrong... terribly wrong!

I gain the golds, the diamonds 
I was happy then for I have lots of friends
Day and night, 
I taste the best meat
I drink the finest wine
I drive the newest limousine
I dress in signature clothes
I walk in branded shoes
I can sleep even in a bed of bills
but why?

Why amidst all these I am not happy?

I feel lost,
there is no peace, no contentment.
I am like the empty hole of a doughnut.
It is as if I am in a dark tunneled labyrinth.
I am calling the name of my mama, my papa
the friends whom I shared my golds
but what I heard in an echo
is my own voice....

I fell and dream.

I captain my life's ship
so wanting to sail, 
swim on the ocean blues
watched over by sunny skies 
and if tired 
rest awhile in silky white sands
but along my sail,
the breezy air begin to blow
the quiet sea begin to wave..
Lots of wind blows they hit my ship
I thought only seagulls I will see
but again am wrong, 
waves became tides
shaking and disturbing my ride...

I woke-up, asking myself...

If only I have chosen,
responding to Your call Father God
where could You have lead be?

I start my search, 
uttering my cries,
repenting for my disobedience
weeping for Your grace and compassion
to kindly rescue me...

Always loving,
Always faithful,
Always merciful,
Father God answered me.
__________________________________________
Copyright © 2015 
11:00 am, September 06, 2015
Categories: tunneled, bible, character, christian, god,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Premium Member Oh, March

Oh, March
you pompous windbag
howling in the hollows
of Winters fade.
Scattering Fall’s gold
across warmed mud,
billowing tree bound
plastic bag kites,
hoisting the weightless hawk.

Oh March
you city street sweeper
funneling debris
down tunneled alleys,
tearing at the edges
of flailing flags,
hastening the pace
of lethargy’s malaise.

Oh March
you docile lamb
caressing soft peeking buds,
nurturing the squawk
of nestlings,
nudging idle cocoons
to wakefulness,
warming ophidian
cold blood.

Oh March
you are the hint
of warming’s kiss
titillating Spring’s yawn.


John G. Lawless
©3/1/2018
Categories: tunneled, confusion, march,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Incendiary

The moth, inexorably drawn
To an incendiary fate,
Is tunneled to the wormhole's end
And placed in stasis, there to wait.

A single strand of silk is all
That ties it to a universe,
A speck caught in a cosmic thrall
Suspended in a quirky verse.

A strange fire arcs the silken cord;
The spark moves at the speed of light.
A dragon bursts forth from its lair,
Takes flight as the moth's wings ignite.

Back at the source, a blackish smudge,
The only hint of what took place.
A worm imagining set free,
Unleashed to roam in time and space.

————————

2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 10 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: tunneled, fantasy,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Got Any Rivers, Hymn

"Got any rivers you think are un crossable?
Got any mountains you cannot tunnel through?
God can do what no other power can do".

The lyrics to a song by John Wesley, a great revivalist
and accomplished song writer, speak to the practical SIDES
of our everyday LIVES and remind us that we are not ALONE.
Though at TIMES driven by stormy winds, and far we have ROAMED,
Our strong faith REMINDS us that we have not reached our HOME.
Figuratively, we all have crossed rivers once thought IMPOSSABLE
and tunneled through gigantic mountains once deemed UNTHINKABLE.
How many times have we completed missions and asked, "Did I do THAT?"    Or what about the times you climbed mountains taller than Mount ARARAT?
Do you remember the time your job was OUTSOURCED to India, or 10 years ago when you went through a horrible DIVORCE? Although it hurt you to the CORE and left you bruised, SOUR, and SORE, you overcame all of that and MORE, because you were blessed with God's POWER which did for you, as Mr. Wesley said, 'what no other power could do'.

072520PSCtest, In Honor Of John Wesley, Kim Rodrigues
Categories: tunneled, christian, god, song,
Form: Rhyme

Without the Dark We Wouldn'T See the Stars

The skies light up with hope and joy tonight.
Past dues are paid with pieces of my heart.
I've tunneled through and finally seen the light.
This love delights me with a brand new start.

Without the dark we wouldn't see the stars.
And starlight led you to my broken door.
Erasing pain and healing all my scars.
I know now what this heart is beating for.

The music of your kiss is all I sing.
A paradise on earth is where I live.
Fragments of the moon are what you bring.
Peace deep in my soul is what you give.



from the quote "Without the dark we wouldn't see the stars"
written October 15th 2013
for contest "Write with your heart:12 lines"
© Deb Wilson  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: tunneled, happiness, hope, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Running

I've trained for this. 
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the line-
24,25,26.
I see them clearly now-
My wife, my child-
smiling, cheering
as they urge me
through the echoes
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my 
tunneled view of
the victory line,
through my exhaustion,
through my pain.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in on my targets.
Thousands! There are many!
I can see them clearly now-
a woman, a child-
smiling, cheering
as I slip past
and drop my bags.
And now I am
running
through the 
smoke and through the
screams as runners push
toward the finish line
without legs.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the scene.
175, 176...
I see them clearly now-
the woman, the child-
lifeless, bleeding
as they urge me
through echoes 
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my
tunneled view of 
torment and death and
I can do nothing but
hold their hand.
Categories: tunneled, america, city, community, courage,
Form: Elegy

Premium Member Partnach Gorge the Most Beautiful Place

Partnachklamme
The most beautiful place


Above the Bavarian resort town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen,
There winds a country road which leads to the Partnach gorge.

Hikers are passed by less hearty tourists transported in hay wagons.

On the left side of the road, a river can be spotted through the lindens.
The river water looks like it was drawn with aquamarine pastels,
Having been super-oxygenated from the gorge’s rapids and cascades.
Playful locals built miniature dwellings and piers along the banks.

Loggers used to hike up the dangerous gorge to unblock log jams,
So safer paths were tunneled in and along the walls of the gorge.
So many sight-seers used to sneak up the loggers trails for the views,
That logging ceased and the gorge became a tourist destination.

At the mouth of the gorge, a guest house sells carbonated buttermilk,
Weiswurst, and other Bavarian specialties to fortify or refresh.

During the holiday season, pilgrims carefully hike the trails 
Carrying torches which reflect from the icicles and frozen walls.

Waterfalls, narrows, bridges, and a logger chapel
All add to the charm of Partnach Gorge.
Categories: tunneled, beauty, nature, river,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member Tireless Universe

Tireless Universe
                    by Odin Roark

Time defies denial,
Knowing well its empirical presence
Will never be of absence.

Dense as its surrounding matter,
Its aged archives remain
Forever fortressed beneath passage and growth,
Like termite mounds of tunneled journeys,
A labyrinth of cosmic dust
Forever of remnant coatings
Upon endless bell tolling posterity.

Here within the maze of stellar nurseries,
Time’s infinite presence passes through our microcosm
As we attempt to aggrandize selfhood 
Beyond its limitations.

Like the beam of a miner’s lamp,
Our import seeks to impact the void,
While this depth of immense profundity
Reveals our illuminative essence
As more akin to a spark of flint
Confronting the revelation of existence.

Perhaps…

Somewhere beyond our consciousness,
Smiles mix with duration’s yawn, 
Humoring the metaphysical malady of rest deprivation.

After all,
Like time,
Existence has never slumbered.

Such a tireless universe this.
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: tunneled, philosophy, universe,
Form: Free verse

Tunneled Vision Visual One

Recalled,
That country road
Between the knowledge trees;
An arch of truth, a freshening
Of soul.
Categories: tunneled, feelings, happiness, journey, places,
Form: Cinquain

Dark Heroin

Shh...He pressed her fingers on my lips and said 
"close it".

He became those close four walls,

She became my claustrophobia,

Shh...he could tell you what I wanted,
But she cannot tell I can define it,

He told me that I would never be loved,

She showed me that she was too much for me to touch,

He kicked me deeply into the back to poison my spine,

Shh... he told me never to tell,
Shh...she regrets being with me,

We never were,
We never will,
We will never,
We will never,

She...feels sorry for lonely me,
He...just wants to feel me,

I will never find anyone like,
She,
He,
Watched my curse spread through my veins,

She,
Watched it eat out my heart,

In the present,

They stand staring me down,
With deep tunneled eyes,

Daring,
Me,
To blossom
Categories: tunneled, absence, abuse, depression, heartbreak,
Form: Free verse

I Could Not Hate Enough

Though surrounded by clouds 
of discouragement
Clouds of downfall
I want to ascend 
The upper altitudes
Till I reach present fulfilment
So far away 
Beyond the horizon
Squeezed my soul
And tunneled me down
Till I reached the limit
My wishes are the flames 
On my life that ignites as they 
burn
My candlestick is my struggles
That's like a cordless phone 
Waiting to live
It has been my ambition
Not to pivot the see saw of the 
night and day
But my anger is frozen to be 
this pivot
To talk for myself
I hate to hate
But how often has it been 
I could not hate enough...
Categories: tunneled, angst,
Form: Carpe Diem
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