Best Unaccounted Poems
~The Ever Lasting Love Of A Child~
You live and still living through thee only love that can last a
whole life time between us,that same love we knew yesterday
when we were born remains with us today, tomorrow, and after
tomorrow.
A love so deep that only you our mother can feel it,as it
Is an unconditional love that has no end,your giving,your
love that knows no boundaries,Its real we feel it in our depth
daily when you are not surrounding us,Its for good,Its not an
illusion mom,because Its pure.
A love which transforms our shadows to experience the
need to stay alive,your existence in our lives will never
fade away,our respect,our missing you allows our tears
to leave traces on our cushions during the night.
That instant love of the moment when we were born Is an
everlasting love,we feel it,our loneliness vanishes,memories
do not seem far away,that reality will always remain in
process of becoming even when aging.
A love without pain this is what you made us feel,a love that
cries out loud even be heard with the rumbling of thunder.
That same love can be felt between electric wires,our phoning
you everyday,its so full of truth so beautiful it feels like
a spiritual love, our beloved mom.
Seconds never pass unaccounted for,you even wipe away
our clouded eyes,that kind of love mom can even predict
our happiness no matter what the outcome of our
coming years would bring.
That same love has so much emotions it illuminates our souls,
its untouchable,immeasurable,unforgettable,it is a reason
for our existence,your love cures our pain even when
too much time has passed away.
Mom, we both your sons will love you,forever an everlasting love.
Sorry Mum we couldn't be with you in person, but our heart
cries out for you, Happy Mothers Day. Your Sons.
Contest for PD. Happy Mothers Day
13/5/2013 (Win No. 8)
Adorning the walls at Brigham and Women's
Head on his hand quite comfortably resting
The subject distinctive in his smiling position
Inspires the asking who is this physician
Over his shoulder an old time sea captain
And over the other what looks like the Kremlin
A scene that recalls something seemingly Russian
What is its significance in this bastion of medicine
And so the commencement of careful researching
Reveals the story of which we'll be learning
A Harvard professor with numerous contributions
To the field of anesthesia including ischemia-reperfusion
This skillful practitioner of inducing unconsciousness
Was born in the Soviet Union in Nineteen and Thirty-Six
The whitebearded mariner is his belov'd Granddad
Who perished unaccounted for in the blockade of Leningrad
When Simon was young he was frequently hungry
Simochka said Mamma for food do not ask me
Life as a Jew in the society of Stalin
Was hard but instructive for the mensch now ascending
At that time in Russia was no concept of charity
Because the state cared for everyone and no one was needy
But the pogroms and politics couldn't kill his generosity
And as soon as they could his wife and he left their country
Emigration to Israel where he learned to be Jewish
In the sense of the word that's proclaimed and not whispered
And he saw for the first time a community helping
And he knew gum zu l'tovah was how he'd be living
And many years later ensconced at the Brigham
The giver, the teacher, the lover of freedom
Fortunate I who discovered his portrait
And learned the legacy of the man
My demons: are awakened;
They're lurking around inside my mind
I've become so bitter, shaken
These demons somehow keep me blind.
These demons are trying to get at me;
Throwing obstacles in my way
My writing these words, be mistaken
But it's just my demons wanting to play.
I find myself in grips by my demons;
As if they had chains on me
Thunderous yelling at myself
In the mirror that sat on the shelf.
Gaps in time unaccounted for;
Missing what had just taken place
I know I have some memory problems, face it
But, this is more like it's Alzheimer's disease.
There are these days I forget my name;
And there isn't anything to blame
Sometimes forgetting where I am
Or are these my demons trying to shame me again.
Writing of this makes me uneasy;
I keep telling myself or is this reasons
I ought to choke you to make them stop;
Sometimes, I think my head is going to pop.
Crazy how your number use to be number one on my dial-log to now not being even in appearance at all.
Scrolling down our inundated text messages on my phone, tagged with dates in the past. I realized it is now thoughts redirected, attention drifted, interest shifted, memories faded, feelings dwindled, motivation daunted and all time we spent unaccounted.
We started off pretty well in a chain reaction, clinched together in ignorance of nothing that could crack nor break us. Longed for more moments beyond euphoric description, little were we aware, we were just passionately enamored of this shadow of a dream.
Kissed and snuggled, goofed and laughed, to fought and argued off numerous teases and pleases, even smiled through the pain. Now the tears all washed up in the rain. You were a part of all the things I was about, until the silence crept in and put us apart.
Words soaked up in emotions diluted with fragments of depression, too obscure for the right expression. We were utterly a product of our own insecurities... But amidst all, there was LOVE whose true measure is not the way I feel about you but the way you make me feel about myself... Where is that love now!?!
7.7.17
With one last sigh
My soul is expelled
Twenty-one grams
Floating upward, high
I'm light
Effervescent
Free
Twenty-one grams
That’s all I am
That’s all that’s left of me
I left behind
My body
Still and unmoving
On the scale
calcuator, pen
The doctor total tell
Unaccounted Weight:
21 grams
**For further understanding refer to the work of Dr. Duncan MacDougall
http://historicmysteries.com/the-21-gram-soul-theory
Looking through old photo boxes
I happen to trip upon
High School memories of my Mother
Resound off the walls, faded edges
Finger printed memoirs sigh between the creases
Of the emerald green sofa
Laughing, fashionable, full of vitality
Mother to me, was
A friend, a mentor, a lover, to somebody else
Seeing how she had a life, before this family
I felt the pregnant tears start to fall
Each weighing about 6 pounds or so
8 ounces, ten fingers, ten toes
Perfect forms of some sort of therapeutic
Amends for a mistake made years ago
Taking a solitary race down my face
But I never cry
I get this kind of strength from my Mom
How is it that I don’t even know who you are?
Standing in front of the sink
Washing crusty dishes and wiping off crude recollections
On windows, what is really behind,
Those beautiful slanted eyes
I see in those photos?
The All American Dreamer
A photographer
Capturing moments in a single shot
Of insight, imagining her
Tiny frame spending hours in the developing room
Crimson passion running, igniting, illuminating her face
Dripping, re-dipping negatives, cutting and pasting
To make the world just a bit more beautiful
A touch more understanding
An image to make us human
How could she sacrifice everything?
For a bundle now grown and barely appreciating
Her surrender of a perfect dream, such ambition
Why did she accept being pregnant at 18 years old
With a wide open road and an never ending horizon
Car packed, engine on blasting her favorite Madonna song
Instead she turned around and walked toward
Home, with a baby in her stomach, returning her rose colored aviator glasses
For reality tinted ones
Sacrificing one life for another
She turned around to
Work a 9 to 5 job on minimum wage,
She turned around to
come home to
Such an ungrateful child
Mother, Unaccounted for, beautiful soul
Stuns me with radiance, such sweet
Abandon, selflessness,
I want to grow up to be just like her
.
When, at reunions, your classmates look
old except for you,
you feel triumphantly younger, from
your own point of view.
Don't you ever fool yourself, look into
other mirrors.
With less vain eyes, look closer for
unaccounted errors.
Don't refuse to see through vanity's
insecurity,
bloated by tightly tucked-in tummy,
hyperacidity,
Eye bags, deeply-furrowed brows, fine,
bluish veins and crow's feet,
against the flow of River Time, there's
nothing but defeat!
.
experiences defining age;
life is just but a stage,
age that ages like wine,
the older it gets,
the better it tastes.
signs of you not getting younger:
remnants of failures,
closer than you think!
coming to terms with your past,
satisfaction that never lasts.
never completing enough,
never accepting redundant normancy.
not having enough energy;
being forgetful,
but not enough to forget your stubborn pride.
wanting to succeed,
enough to take the chances when you get it.
lost in teh sudden change of pace,
reality of pressures unaccounted for!
I am a poet, an artist, a writer
A lover of humanity
This poem I write is about the Grenfell tower story.
Kensington,Kensington
What have you done
Blood stains and tears are scrolled upon your veins.
For a dollar , a pound or two
You brought plastic instead of foam
You thought their would never burn.
Kensington,Kensington
Hypocrites and thieves
You brought these souls to their knees.
Twenty seven storeys
One hundred and twenty flats
Six hundred souls were all entrapped.
Kensington,Kensington
While you were sleeping
These souls were heating.
Higher and higher the flames kept on rising
Hotter and hotter their became
Calling out all in vain.
God how I wished it had rain
Kensington,Kensington
Look at your streets.
These souls you see is because of your greed
Kensington,Kensington
Stop your lies.
It's time you open your eyes
These crimes of yours is what you have reap
There are souls unaccounted for on Latimer street.
Numbers are increasing, mothers are still weeping
Kensington, Kensington you need to restore
Crowds are escalating.
Questions asked , answers concealed
Kensington, Kensington I fear
Your unanswered questions
May provoked a political war.
Five million why not a billion
You spend this much on nuclear wars
Kensington, Kensington the public needs answers.
Families are in despair
There cannot be repaired
Kensington,Kensington you need to start reconstructing.
These souls are everywhere
Mourning and anguish
Anger and fear won't disappear.
Kensington,Kensington the dead is knocking
Their ashes are spread everywhere
Soon their will be demanding.
False promises slow response
Will only awake the sleeping
Kensington,Kensington the dead needs to be resting.
So and So, So Much.
Not so much as out of touch
as such
more so so much untouchable.
Nor so vague as unguessable
the intangible
more so or less the language
we re-touch
the blurred outline with
Not so much as unguessable
the soft luggage
more so that ill-defined
as much
more so the ephemeral baggage
of its mist out lined
to blind
As much as so much pretense
to be clear
the tongue loves whispers
with so much of truth
in as much of inhalation
yet so much as much joy
it speaks
and more
but does nothing less.
Not so much as out of touch
as such
more so so much untouchable.
So sleeping the selfish makes so much satisfactory
and as such so much of life
to live your life
is all that is made so readily.
The amplitude is empty
as such left as it was
by an unaccounted for yesterday
and yesterday when so much was left to be that much
but never more than that
as such.
Not so much as untouchable not so much
more so
as completely and utterly
out of touch.
So sleepily the selfish makes all so much
and thinks that is all so much
satisfactory.
Such an ill-defined love
by non committal.
What I loved in my youth, has
been soured by time.
I looked back when I was fare,
and my honey was a dime.
Ice blue eyes cut me deep, and
bled my anger dry.
Twisted knots left behind were
golden locks did die.
Never a dull word, nor
moments unaccounted.
And all the precious memories
are hard to be recounted
However now I ask in prayer a
way to bring her near.
From the depth of hell that
seemed, to burn my darling
dear.
The scars on my skin are the scratches and bruises
from the boulders that cut me,
but the scars on my heart and soul are unaccounted for.
Fingers clutch to punch a wall,
the heart was oozing poetry in anger helplessly desperate
to save the soul from its last breath....
I was only sixteen for a moment
Then seventeen for a second
Who would have thought I couldn’t hold it
The kid who could do it all
Who would have thought he would grow up and fall down
He never guessed that those speeding years would be the best
And remembered in tumbling tears
The old familiar faces are no longer around
So now I’m leaving on a journey
Burning through the night
Leaving some bloodstains to frame out the scars
That’ll jar our memories and blind the true life dreams
Now I’m feigning
Killing myself by dreaming
I’m scheming on redeeming my former state
This time I won’t abate
It’ll be straight over the broken glass
Another unspoken forsaken heart that I’m concentrated on breaking
Baby hip hop pop the top
Ignition as result of the drop
Stop think and listen
Silence listen
Quiet please another tragic vision
Lets mop up this which glistens
I was christened as pure
Raised as evil
Lets seesaw
Lets silence your broken call
Appall them all
Why walk when I can’t crawl
The perfect fix in a simple magic trick
So damn smooth
Splendidly slick
Now for the trick
Two simple props key to male my heart stop
Just a boy and a mirror
And all his fear of what times brung
I’ll fix what I can’t admit
Lets silence the dreamer inside
Not to lie so if you would say goodbye
Time to live or die
Three times thrice this won’t happen twice
I’ll look in the mirror see what I saw
Take the saw edges serrated
Time to cut out the heart that never made it
Don’t you dare try to save it
I’ll brave it out
Just whisper
I can whisper like a shout
I’m insurmountable
My dreams are unaccounted for
Living life as a whore
I’ll give and give
Please won’t you take and take
I’ll drown in my personal fire water lake
Condemn me for being real
Would you rather me be fake
Another choice for you to make
As I sit in my car
Reclined in my seat
Doors locked, lights dimmed
My four wheel retreat
Nestled in darkness
Just breathing for sound
I duck from their headlights
I don't want to be found
This is my think-tank
My safe room, my cave
Where I go to escape you
Where I come to be saved
I think about things
I think about you
All my sins and my secrets
Am I brave or a fool
And when unaccounted
Someone's looking for me
I'll put my seat upright
Push the start key
I'll drive to my burdens
Park a little too far
And inhale that last moment
As I sit in my car
Looking into her pair of rainy global eyes,
With mine depicting a pool of mist;
an impending storm.
My arm made an involuntary stretch
to her always warm flank so tender.
She shoved it away.
My eyes stuck on her smooth flawless face,
The one I used to carress,
Those days begone,
I thought my apology was belated.
I could say no more, nay cry.
I had poured out my heart,
sprinkled her with sweetened vowels,
with an icing of truth,
My word bank ran dry,
My convincing smiles were puppet tricks,
My voice intonations were toxic mimics,
She was reluctant to move a cheek,
She was reluctant to move her feet,
At last that was a sign.
She stared at me with a smile,
That legendary smile so preserved,
the kind kind of smile only I earned.
Those days when our passion was a kiln;
A furnace of love driven lust;
What a concorsion!
Memories reeled like a clip,
In my mind, jealous-worthy cuddles,
In a moment of unaccounted for shock,
I was taken in her arms,
those tender fingers that pampered my skin.
That simple warmth that made me sweat,
That warm breathe that raced mine,
That heartbeat that fired up mine,
That husky voice that held hostage my soul and
mind,
That soft touch that erased all doubt.
I forgive you.
A warm kiss on her lips,
was the gratitude I could afford,
And yes,
She kissed me again.