Best Unaware Poems
THE PROTECTOR OF THE UNAWARE
In the great hall walls sung with gold
Silk threads reflect the free fed fires
Stoked high to chase the brutal cold
From listeners as they crowded round
The winter nights wrapped round the thoughts
Of raging bold and timid weak
For in the starkness dark has bought
There is a time for Truth tho bleak
When hearts lie fallow with the fields
Awaiting musty earth's spring call
Tis time for dwelling in the past
And staunchly facing life's downfalls
Sometimes there stands a heartless man
Who forced a virgin maid astray
Fails to regret felonious act
That crushed her blooming life that day
But in the dead of winter's nights
When sleep flies shattered with the storm
The man without a conscience bite
Is grabbed as terrors round him swarm
Face of the lovely soiled—beguiled--
Sways not his faithless heart of stone
But fear that swallows light from stars
Swirls horror-- brands him man alone
No faithless heart cares where it cuts
No brutal lies attempt a balm
But vengeance blows upon the winds
To right the path of careless wrong
Sweet treasured is proud Nature’s prize
She guards the simple hearts born pure
Tragic to her when anguish cries
Sees evil treats them as obscure
Sweet are the innocent of earth
Fragile their hearts and tragic cares
They have a champion, though unknown--
Protector of the unaware
Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
1/1/13
She rode barefoot on her
unicorn all through her house.
Had lunch with Greek wine and her Muse,
but of course!
Read her Tarot cards and knew
her world was alright.
Saw her aura in the mirror and
kissed her cat~a sweet goodnight.
July 25, 2019
9pm PST
Vouch uncloak tomes.
Tooth topcoat retro.
Parry purport perks sourf.
You were the witness
Of my gradual disappearance
I evaporated one look at a time
Beneath your harshness
You so vibrant
Me cloaked in my shyness
You not seeing
Or wondering whyness
My smile lost all its brightness
My spirit its lightness
You became more brilliant
Rising in heightness
As I faded into my blackness
You became sheer whiteness
I was all wrongness
You were always rightness
In the beginning
You gifted me your kindness
Looking past my frogyness
You were my royal highness
A princess gifted with open mindedness
With you I felt a level of significance
That proved to be a risky business
I felt like a strong person
But in the end l lacked fitness
Do you remember
My exuberance
The way I danced in my freeness
How you saw much more
Instead of so much lessness
I could just be myselfness
Before all the craziness
The impatience
I exchanged my substance for faintness
Yes you were the witness
To my gradual disappearance
Our no longer in syncness
Somehow losing the us significance
You the unaware witness
With no remembrance
So I let go of your promises
They were never meant to be
The realization of my happiness
Do not worry, I am not currently going through this.
I know it's not funny
What it is rather in fact
It's criminally sad
That someone in the first place
Could become or ever be
So full of their own self importance
Or so selfish and totally unaware
Let alone give a damn or care
To think so highly of themselves
That they didn't even realize
What they were or are
A spare of a spare
And yet after all of that
And having been caught out
And exposed as both
A cold hearted charlatan, grifter and fraud
Still keep up the farcical pretence
Of acting like and pretend playing the victim
No or is it any wonder then or why
Apart from themselves
Even their own supposed family
But not according to them
No longer even want
Anything to do with the pair of them
Let alone them
Or anyone else
For that matter either
Couldn't happen to 2 nicer people
They truly seem to be soul mates
And deserve
One another
Because in the end
It's their own children
Who I genuinely feel sorry for
Since you endlessly bang on about
Your problematic childhood
Because I hazard a guess
You have never given a single moments
To stop and
Spare
A thought for them
As it's only and always evet been about
Ladies and Gentlemen
One and All
I hereby and present to you
Royal Pince Spare
&
Dutchess Entitlement Sparsely
Anacreontic verse
Unaware
Little cat
you wander free
without a single
thought of me.
You know not of
the ills in store
for silly cats
in the outdoor.
The eagles swoops
to lift you high
and carry you
up in the sky.
He drops you and
you run away,
still thinking it's
a form of play.
You try to evade
my loving grasp.
You struggle enough
to make me gasp.
If only I
could make you see
you're better off
at home with me.
There are hungry
creatures out here, who
would turn you
into kitty stew.
So please don't wiggle
to be free.
You're only safe
at home with me.
Written November 8, 2015
The sky is slowly melting as the sun blisters through,
The forecast is capping near one hundred twenty-two.
Birds stopped chirping, squirrels left without a clue,
Water trickles slowly, no trace of brilliant blue,
Oh such loving grandfather with inventions fresh and new,
Why were you so unaware of what global warming would do?
..........................................
Form: Monorhyme
Written: 07/14/2016
Contest: One Stanza - One Only
Sponsor: Broken Wing
Results: 5th Place
Didn’t know a goat had to die
To make grandma’s dish so delicious.
Fileted meat
Marinated in herb and spice:
Onion, garlic, black pepper, clove and thyme
Pan griddled, embracing black char
Simmer in oil
Sizzling, a snake’s hiss
Aroma drew nose near, from afar
A dinner’s delight
A black fur billy goat
Eyes starring widely
Chewed green, so unaware
Doomed for demise
To adorn dinner plates
Prey to the hunter’s ritual
Age old, as time
Sharp blade placed to throat
Its red soaked the earth
Free -verse 03/07/15
by Marckincia Jean
Unaware;
You are the ocean, the earth, the sky,.
And I a ship in the bottle
Never to touch the water;
A bird that cannot fly,
Will never know the touch of sky.
A wind that cannot lay upon the earth,
Caresses only memories of birth.
Unaware;
You are the Space that holds it all.
Each moment of Time, Upon your Breath;
Until My Death.
She leaned closer whispering,
An ease, almost an invitation
Companionship offered?
Bits, pieces of words visible
Question unanswered
Simple fresh gift, honesty
Conveys a message
Simple and profound
Her hand slowly moved
Brushed her shoulder, a glance
Outlined smooth supple back
Glowing velvety soft skin
Shadows interplayed on draped hair
Complementing, softly placed
Unaware, gently moving
Her scent drifted
She was unaware of it.
It crept in with the peaceful night,
Slipping softly into troubled dreams,
Unaware of our desperate plight.
A friendly smile, the flag held tight,
Neighbors watch as we move about,
It crept in with the peaceful night.
The lines were drawn between left and right,
Hatred rose and claims put forth,
Still unaware of our desperate plight.
Choices dismantled, still we made our fight,
But crushed by force our power waned,
No longer in the peaceful night.
With cheers and chants and promises bright,
New order took hold, our dreams were dashed,
Now aware of our desperate plight.
Behind the flag we hide our fear,
Our rights forgone and tears held fast,
It crept in with the peaceful night,
Unaware of our desperate plight.
TRAVELING ALONE WITH SELF-PERSEVERANCE ON LIFE COURSE.
DAYS PASS AND IT SEEMS AS THOUGH LIFE BURDENS INCREASE IN
WEIGHT.
A KIND WORD HERE OR THERE ENTERS IN.
WHILE I WAS SLEEPING THROUGH MY DAILY WALK, AN ANGEL CAME INTO
MY LIFE.
OF COURSE, I FELT AN EXTRA-ORDINARY CHANGE.
BUT I IGNORED IT.
EXTRA-ORDINARY ANGEL CROSSED MY PATH ONCE MORE.
I TOOK NOTICE.
I LOOKED AROUND TO SEE IF IT COULD BE SOMEONE ELSE AND NOT ME.
TO MY SURPRISE NOBODY ELSE WAS THERE.
SINCE MY ANGEL TOUCHED MY LIFE, LIFE BURDENS DON'T SEEM AS HEAVY.
I SMILE A LITTLE MORE THAN USUAL.
I AM THANKFUL FOR MY ANGEL THAT ENTERED MY LIFE WHEN I WAS
UNAWARE.
I thank god for bringing you into my life,
without you I don't think I would survive.
sometimes I wonder why I love you the way I do,
but then, what's not to love from a person like you?
loving you is an amazing thing,
no more do I drive my self ,to wanting to be up there with him.
your love is something I've never known before, with passion, it grows each day
more and more.
facing facts, you've made me who I am,
that's why I think your an angel god send.
right now your probably sleeping.
unaware, that about you am thinking.
I love you and I always will,
in millions of years,
words would not explain the way I feel.
In the darkness of my closet
I lay on my back...crying
Orange Handled knife in my hand...heart racing
Shapeless emotions coursings through my mind
Tear drops...salty salty tear drops fill my ears
Cold Sharpe knife prickes my already damaged skin
My closed eyes pop open
The knifes drops to the floor immediately
The front door opened
...mom came home
I didn't cut that night
Thanks mom.
In the eyes of society, the poet is dead, and the only one unaware is the poet himself,
Because his vanity binds him to verses like an invisible thread, a thread of destiny,
He writes his words on the sky of memories, unaware that they are merely shadows,
Shadows of a changed reality, where poetry no longer sings as it once did.
He wears his illusions like a royal cloak, while the world passes him by,
Without stopping to hear the echo of his verses, which float like leaves in the wind,
In a world where words seem to have lost their weight, to be mere smoke,
Smoke rising from the fire of the desire to be heard, to be seen, to be felt.
The poet, with a heart full of unspoken words, carves his path through silence,
Between dream and reality, between what is and what could be,
Seeking that fragment of truth that would bring him the solace he longs for,
But the echoes remain silent, and the world continues on its way.
Looking into the mirror of time, the poet sees his reflection mingled with illusions,
Wondering if his poetic death is real or just another verse,
Another verse in an unwritten poem, in which he is the protagonist without knowing,
But even in the face of silence, he continues to write, to dream, to be.
Because, deep down, he knows that poetry is more than words,
It is a space of the soul, where thoughts and feelings meet,
A place where even death becomes just another metaphor for life,
Where the poet, even dead to others, lives forever in his verses.