Best Unbarred Poems
A man can fail many times, but he isn't a failure until
he begins to blame somebody else—John Burroughs
Blame
Underneath a belt of stars in stratosphere’s arena
There, blood rushes within each lover’s heart
Veiled by the silky fibrils of the cortina
A solid dome in the deep vast expanse, heaven’s vault
Ever debuts Dante’s Paradiso,
Where angels fear to tread, far off and away
they stay from the milky orb, be it so, and instead,
for fear of the mid-night’s enticing allure, and
love’s lasting doom, they…
Blame the Moon
Orion rises in the Orient East,
it sets in the wide Occident West
Antares only rises once Orion sets, vice versa!
Spellbound, forever severed, and a lunar eclipse longing
An affair’s unrest, not potions nor a test or curse, ah
Their quest to finish weakened minds
Seduced by halos ivory glow in twilight
Lusting mortals, passionate kinds
Held captive, never to unite ‘neath
the pearlescent orb’s sheen at midnight
Gold-leaf doors unbarred, luminous lune art
Seduced as pleasing colors meld white to blue
Ere a raging tempest rips apart the seether
Empyreus, quintessence, searing crimson love they’ve fallen into
True Aristotle’s aether
in bloom,
Hark! Blame not each other…
Blame the Moon!
Riding the rail cargo
blue sky's virgin eyes
suddenly a ride on the wild side.
Consumed like a passionate love affair
first sneaking around then a box unbarred.
There were several more boxes growing inside
tranquil the rush rolled up on the cool side.
Should I count the length of time?
Should I not forget the first box I tried?
I visited Salem, Newport how cool the breeze.
Marlboro & Winston wasn't for me
another box opened to my foolish feed.
it was Kool for awhile till my mind seemed to freeze.
So many boxes, many more did I breathe.
Next a very slim box, but a journey long
enjoying a mellow, vivacious breeze
in the Virginia mountains high
air so soft admiring a beautiful sky.
After a short while it was time to move on
just like the Old West Maverick was born.
Shoot-in toot-in smoke so thick
general warning the surgeon's threat.
A life of boxes adorned the family tree
It was the 2017 box that finally set me free.
No longer boxed in, living life tobacco free.
Quit smoking January 2018
Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.
(Ralph Waldo Emerson)
Untamed as a hew in mid air is the heart,
so spontaneous !
Allow the golden coin of heaven
to beam down at you
its a living sun
and it lives above the sea
Drink the wild air of life,
and be its poetry;
Unnamed is the ocean wild and carefree
it belongs to you but it also belongs to me
This is not a Baptism
slice into it with unbarred laughter
Don't live in the shallow
nor sit like a clam
Swim like the otter
drink its wild forces
You can't tame the wind,
but you can claim the air.
A sliver of horizon, stiff in hand,
it bears no city, street, or promised land.
No inked direction on its back is set,
a silent promise, a forgotten threat.
It is a vessel built without a helm,
a ship adrift in a vast, indifferent realm.
Its message, trapped within the pulp and dye,
a whispered secret passing readers by.
It speaks of all the words we leave unsaid,
the phantom letters in the heart and head.
The “I forgive you” or “I love you too,"
they’d never find their proper avenue.
It is the bridge that ends before the shore,
the key that fits no lock upon the door.
It holds a sunset view, a painted sky,
intended for a specific, single eye.
Its life is one of stillness and of wait,
a transient object sealed by silent fate.
It knows the sender’s hand, the stamp’s brief kiss,
then plunges into the communication abyss.
It lies inside a drawer, or on a shelf,
a lonely testament unto itself.
A metaphor for chances cast away,
a sun-bleached memory of yesterday.
The postal system, in its structured might,
delivers day and navigates the night.
But this card breaks the code, the golden rule,
a rebel item, a stateless, wandering fool.
It mocks the logistics, the sorting machine’s whir,
a phantom address with no destination, sure.
It is the story told to no one’s ear,
a bell that rings where no one is near.
Perhaps its power is in the void it keeps,
the silent promise that within it sleeps.
For while addressed, its journey would be done,
beneath the gaze of a specific sun.
Unaddressed, it belongs to all of us,
this little card, this wordless, world-less fuss.
It carries every possible reply,
a universal, silent, hopeful sigh.
So let it rest, the unaddressed postcard,
a little piece of life we’ve held unbarred
from finality, from being truly sent.
A perfect moment, perfectly unspent.
It is the poem I write that you won’t read,
the planting of a universal seed,
awaiting recipient, could have been,
a memory in time that no one had seen.
Written: August 26, 2026
************
When I lose this lantern, let no mournful cry,
Nor grief-clad wail lament the soul set free;
My ribs release the breath that sought the sky,
And clay-bound chains shall fall away from me.
For I will be free
I am the fire no fetter ever held, or simper crept
The wing that soared beyond the walls that wept;
The dark was shallow, and the veil was frail—
I cast the husk; the cage is empty, pale.
For I will be free
I walk the path that heaven laid for me,
No seam, no parting—only light and grace;
Let not clay-born mourn my flight to foresee,
For dawn awaits beyond this darkened place.
For I will be free
So let no tolling bell or dirge proclaim,
I pass unbarred beyond the body frame;
The body was but a guest; I am the flame,
And dawn unseals the urn, beyond all name.
For I will be free
Don't cry for the heavenly wing or the clay.
I am the light that outlives the fading day;
Grieve not prison; let the soul that lives rise,
The soul lives on; only the husk dies;
For I will be free
Ask no door or tomb to stop my flight,
From dusk to eternity, I am free in light.
On Halloween the sky was scarred.
The blood moon peered with pale regard
(a gaze that pierced the pit of night)
upon the spell of death and fright,
along a bone laced boulevard.
Though corpses crept from crypts unbarred,
the flames, they crawled in disregard
on roasting rot – a sanguine sight...
On Halloween.
The bones, they blanched within the yard,
because they sensed their evening marred
by ghouls and fiends who rip and bite
with claws and fangs which drip delight
while gorging flesh, so slightly charred...
On Halloween.
like the animals
in a zoo,
we roam freely
within our allowed
spaces---caged
and confined, yet
our cages are invisible---
we, like the unbarred
elephant,
no longer chained---
oblivious to his power---
will not move
beyond the mental keloid chain
hooked around our brain:
today, we just march
and sing sad songs---aping
caged birds---
crying to fly away home.
the white man's burden
cultivates Afrika’s roots
a caged mind unbarred
If love is a sin, then I will go to hell
With a smile on my face and a story to tell
For I have loved deeply and with all my heart
And it's worth any punishment that may impart
If love is a sin, then let it be so
For the joy it brings is worth any woe
I'll embrace my fate, with love as my guide
And I'll wear my heart on my sleeve with pride
If love is a sin, then I'll happily sin
For the feeling it gives is like heaven within
No force can stop me, no fear can hold back
For the light of love will guide my path
If loving you means going to hell
Then let me go – for with you, all is well
I'll brave the flames and face any test
For in your arms, I've found eternal rest
So if love is a sin, then I am guilty as charged
And I'll happily pay the price, full, free and unbarred
For nothing can corrupt the love in my heart
Not even hell can tear my love apart.
Awake, alone, the hours after midnight
when thoughts like gypsy spirits roam about the world,
traveling through past, present and blank future--
no maps, no boundaries, no roads.
Free to roam, a nomad of earth's centuries,
along unbarred corridors, uncharted seas,
viewing both the close and distant perspectives
of nations, thrones, and kings,
captain of a time kaleidoscope turning
in the curious capsule of my head.
What could we be and see if not restrained
by gray barred cells of time and place?
Would wisdom rule because we ascertain
the whys of old cultures' swift declines?
I doubt we would choose any better
even if we knew all there is to know;
we would find we are determined rebels,
for we are fallen beings after all.
Copyright, August 27, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
There once was a skunk in my yard,
And although I'm no bard,
I'll tell you the story,
of how I won glory,
As soon as my door is unbarred.
I have been pondering for quite some time,
Is there a permanence to the meaning of the word ‘greatness’?
Whatever does it mean ‘to be great’ or ‘to feel great’?
You see, from ever since, I’ve attached its meaning to superiority,
Something unreachable, beyond my wildest imagination.
With branches beyond the skies,
which climax at levels exceeding human capability.
And thick, fibrous roots so deeply entrenched,
that they become onerous to deracinate.
But over the years, my realisation has surprised me.
I have recognised that greatness has distinctive,
yet instinctive qualities.
Much like a budding and unfolding bouquet of roses,
Its perfume is subjective.
Pungent to some, but fragrant and elegant to others.
Its vessel comes in different forms,
Some curved, thin or well figured.
And its florets can bud, bloom, change colour or even decay,
depending on the level of care.
Similarly, I have discerned that greatness resides in each of us.
Its aura is unfastened by our creativity and vision.
And it is unbarred by the similitude of unreached potential,
encasement or bewilderment.
And, at last, there cannot be any fixity to its meaning.
Rather, there is much subjectivity, intuitivity and reason,
that we must open ourselves up to receive.
I hope you receive and accept your feeling of greatness,
in whatever form it appears.
Love & Light.
07/04/21
Do you remember the day
When I was out on a bay
And you, like the silent wind
Penetrated deep in my rind
Barefooted, you lured the carte
Intruded the streets of my heart
Even the dungeons rejoiced
When you whispered in sweet voices
As if a blessed rain just began to pore
The Green couldn't help but restored
For the first time in forever
The door of my heart was unbarred
The ocean of my heart was set on fire
By your wide crescent smile
My soul yearns for you
Like sea waves for the moon
You enticed the sails of my dreams
They are floating towards your streams
I wonder what's this magic
I hope for you too it's aesthetic
My smiles and peace are from you
Be careful... let's rejoice... For now I love you too
Dated: 25th September, 2021
He was a runaway, both young and foolish, but just a pup,
and never let him stay inside and always leashed him up
and wanting to escape the owners that kept him in the yard
until that day he became their runaway unbarred.
He followed the kids home from the park
and from there he was looking for a place to stay.
so in the house he came and we in hopes one day,
of finding the owner of this runaway lark.
Weeks later they came tearfully and he went home to them.
but soon they called back as they could not pretend
he was not to be their pet friend and on another day,
he was on his way back to us, their persistent runaway.
They chose to give him up when only howled and refused to play
now he was part of us, this lovely, loving, endearing runaway.
With intelligence he recognized my sisters needs,
she was getting sick, forgetfull and would fall upon her knees
But he was there by her side unwavering despite the demands
and he was her protector without commands.
As fourteen years passed by, their unbroken bond united,
and just as she was leaving this life to the next most quiet
he closed his eyes and went with her in his loving prayer
to find life together, no runaways there.
For Dutch and Lynn and their unmeasured love.
Silhouette framed by the outstretched window
The calling of unbarred freedom
Bare feet pressed against the cooling sill
Heels lift at the beckoning breeze
Chin skyward at the hope filled reddening heavens
A mind lost
A soul stolen
Delusory confidence laced appealment to soar
Compelled by a
Momentary
Greater authority
Fingertips let go
The leap of manic faith
The fall to pieces unrealized forever