Best Unboxed Poems
Factory Recall
I looked beyond The Open Door
into a mystical Soul Factory
There amidst the unboxed souls
was Invisible Jim and The Ghost.
The ghost’s skin was reflective like a mirror
allowing me to see The Lines on my Face.
The factory was an unusual place
with floors carpeted in Dandelions
At each station angels sang a Star Baby Lullaby
I asked one “What are you doing?”
She smiled and responded
“I am installing a Patriotic Pause.”
An overhead speaker blared
“It is time for Designated Rain,”
I was careful to protect
the Butterfly in My Pocket.
Workers started moving
so I asked “Where are you going?”
“We are Stepping into The Temple.”
“May I ask Why?” “Sure, we are Searching For Jesus.”
So I followed the Girl With The Quiet Voice.
I was unsure How To Feel,
so I began by Lending Both Hands.
It helped in Finding My Way..
I was then joined by The Borrower.
He Was the one Who I Am
but Some Time we’re not Close Enough to Know.
Perhaps I need some Kimo Therapy
I was directed to Rose in The Garden.
Her roots had Deep Inclinations.
Would I Abandon all for This Dark Lover?
She set me on my Memory Go Round.
That place of Painted Ladies and Weeping
There I searched for Guys Advice in a Fools Paradise
Inside of me A Sense of Emptiness,
still she would become my Favourite Mistake.
She Touched The Water and my soul
becoming My Ocean.
Still I have Unanswered Questions
Some might say a Bad Bargain Made.
At the Soul Factory I left behind
my Church Perfect Surface.
In my Minds Eye the Screen Flickers.
Change Ain’t Easy but now I’m Different.
The breeze Whispered Your Name.
While I was looking for Psychedelic Sound!
No I know why I Can’t Get High Enough.
Instead let me rest in a the place of Chaotic peaceful Thoughts.
There I can sit under the Wisdom Tree
and listen to The Quiet One.
That garden where angels do the Butterfly Dance.
I long to languish there in Rainbow Coloured Camouflage.
By Richard Lamoureux
I wrote this one for Charlie’s contest using my titles from past poems. I didn’t read the directions properly so wrote another one that I entered.
Ominous fear, hate of formless things,
squirms unbidden
to the surface of an unboxed grave
worming its way upward.
Fear not
are worms not of God?
Give shape the formless fears.
Disperse the miasma.
Confront the horror,
known and unknown
for are they not all creations of God?
Drive forward on butterfly wings
leave the cocoon of fear
the worms discontent.
Free mind and spirit
from the villains of despair
let sunshine flow
through the arteries of man.
TO SEXUAL AND SENSUAL COUPLES
Kiss me.
Tinge me.
Make me mourn.
Take me to heights unknown.
Empower me with dynamism.
Make my woman glow from making love.
Hold me close in yours arms.
Enthuse my inner person.
Touch me.
Caress me.
Make me purr.
My inner essence is yours.
Whisper love words in my ears.
Be sensual.
Make me feel.
Lovers’ unity is unbound…
Unchained to higher grounds.
Unfetter my inhibitions.
Love my curves.
Develop my sensuality as I develop yours.
We are one vigor of power.
Our theme is the unspoken language of love.
Our minds are sensual.
Our bodies sexuality are beings to explore.
Be sensual.
Be utterly involved.
Fulfill my sexuality within your terms.
Lovers unite minds boggled.
Stunned by release and please by what has been unboxed.
Sensuality carafes.
We are adorned as embellished souls in an atmosphere enhanced and enriched by the blitz of our spirits.
Our quintessence epitomizes the scope to a level.
We must come together again.
Our sexuality is sensual.
Let’s engage.
Let’s peak…
To never end this unity.
_____________________________________________________________________|
Written June 05, 2016!
Mind games,
They make us think,
The norm is not the norm,
Our thought patterns are being changed,
Unboxed.
When you’re shaken and stirred by your love for another
And the song of the heart sends the head to the nether
When you clean all the grim off the hope to discover
The pale ghostly figure of a once strong lover
Standing over your shoulder and in the path before yer
All the words that was spent, all the touches too
How the blood pays the rent when the heart’s overdue
How the future’s forgotten when the past clutches you
How temperament is timed to the reenactments untrue
In the old habitual view of the beacons in the blue
All the wistful dreams admired in the over-exposed night
Secretly mishandled in the darkening morning light
Brilliantly disguised amidst the many a broken right
All pent up, packed and unboxed at heart’s aching sight
For the hard-eyed delight of which no ashes reignite
It’s a curled lip glossy spread and a pout at the ghost
It’s a damaged motor chanting on the road to the coast
Where lone-isle weary figures are cloaked standing on post
Claiming their measure, their misgiving, their bitter boast
About the thieving dream-host to whom they gave their heart most
for my Mother
After the failed attempt to kill herself,
She gaveled up a parliament of owls,
Repurposing every cabinet and shelf
To house her blinkless treasury of fowls.
What comfort came from a gross of hooded eyes
Strewn through her home, I could not even guess.
Yet urgently she unboxed every prize
And for it found some suitable recess.
As executor, I audited the owls.
Seventy-two, my final reckoning.
There was one I liked. He'd pivot in his cowl
Like a startled monk, when shook. His shuttering
eyes, like cameras, seemed to document the night.
Her night, I thought: her burden, and her flight.
It's easy to be in kind
cruelling self to denial.
Harder to step up, unboxed.
But why must you beg, aplogise
for stuffing your ego with struts,
standing up, off your knees;
self supported, doing your own stuff.
My imagination ran shamelessly amok last night
While I slumbered in beaded sweat, askance that I would
Be peddling ornate coffins to the absurdly rich, then
Second handing them to poorer souls for paltry profit.
After black-draped mourners departed for sumptuous feasts
I heaved their unboxed tuxedoed beloved into the pit
And shoveled them over head to foot with yellow clay.
No shame ensuing, I wiped down the shiny satin interior
Erasing telltale vestiges of the recently deceased occupant
Loaded the ornamental bronze, a considerably less-weighty box,
Into the back of my somber black Cadillac hearse
And laughing lustily sped away…, then I awakened.
Poem received a N/A in the It Feels Surreal Contest
Sense altering fertility:
a stoic female falters
Seven consecutive avid hours in each four weeks
I mull over mitigating my chosen ongoing celibacy
Primitive drive permeates realms where pleasure peaks
Stomach burgeoning coersion detects digital delicacy
Needy as a newborn, abdomen aches, resonates reason
Discarded inhibition of prudence pursues resolution, swollen
Tulip bulb split, affliction's blister is conceived procreation
Stupendous scenarios sordid, fluent imagination draws on
Widened with aspiration, desire requires instant unbridling
Materialising gluttony beckons with incandescent distress
Moans cryptic as ocean speak, freed from concious conspiring
Unboxed frolicked fathomings become loitering brain's duress
Written: May 18, 2024, For Unseeking Seeker Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Languid breath dwindles, scrounging panacea air
quiddity remorse core conveyed mindful glare
seraphim guilt throe stems from mind sapidity
heart wispy ousts weltschmerz, hatred morbidity.
Gentleness key squeals heart-tangled inner thread
unboxed core lead ecstatic heart hobnobbed tread
Is my heart-mind rancor overlaid by hazy myopia?
milk with ice is a quintessential pillar of utopia.
Shepherding pragmatic apotheosis wide universe
hampered altruistic love ephemeral zeitgeists verse
emotional outbursts during meiosis—placate impact
forging forfend feeling fallacy focusing on facts.
Seeking soothing sense as silk-satin smoothness
fetches forbearance, fosters faith hearty-filled fewness
ripple aposiopesis words transcend catharsis sight
sate sinew, eschew omniscience, heed hubris might.
Living stubbornly with caesura implies life-moored
we are living offhand, leaving us brittle but allured
Issues occur wisely rather than haphazardly sought
willing for heart-mind coo to fulfill what's taught.
With authenticity, grace, sympathy, and tolerance
respect all people, despite views or providence
uphold merciful attitude and passionate mind
brain-heart harmony molded by cosmic pull blind.
A call from a nephew here
A text from children, not near
It takes so little, these days
Be grateful always, He says
Another day on planet earth
Forget the shape of my girth
A place to work called home
A world in which I cannot roam
For these things, Him I thank
With every breath, I am more frank
No more secrets between us, at all
Falsehoods before the omniscient will fall
I have been accepting
that I lost my courage to be vulnerable,
and I hovered over words that would not flow,
For my emotional tsunami hides in the insufferable,
I was just afraid to let this ache inside me go.
My stygian soul then scheduled my mental breakdown
And the photosynthesizes of my overwhelming pain,
I have established that in this
psychological baptism I drown,
But to grow is to immerse
in my sacrifice and appertain,
Should I allow myself to break into small pieces,
then composition myself with love
and become a Kintsugi soul?
My fearless spirit encapsulates a warrior
in the world of Ulysses,
So I unboxed my Worth and discovered my Hope,
To understand my veracity is to feel it in my core,
That running only tires the internal child
who is weeping,
Those tears power my garden of humanity
while being restored,
Unearthed healing from truth
in the eternal spring of the reaping.
Unboxed
I held her tight
Her weight in my lap
boxed
to let her go gently
Water & wind ready to embrace her
The sun falling halfway
Our metal casket gleaming mid-flight
I needed her weight
in my lap
Not wanting to give her up
I thought I’d swallow just one bit of her
Take her in and make her stay
But she had chosen differently
Forcing me to reach into that wooden box
for her
And holding her one last time
extending my arm out into open air
fingers begrudgingly freeing
dropping her from sky
I let her go
First published: Dual Coast
My imagination ran shamelessly amok last night
While I slumbered in beaded sweat, askance that I would
Be peddling ornate coffins to the absurdly rich, then
Second handing them to poorer souls for paltry profit.
After black-draped mourners departed for sumptuous feasts
I heaved their unboxed tuxedoed beloved into the pit
And shoveled them over head to foot with yellow clay.
No shame ensuing, I wiped down the shiny satin interior
Erasing telltale vestiges of the recently deceased occupant
Loaded the ornamental bronze, a considerably less-weighty box,
Into the back of my somber black Cadillac hearse
And laughing lustily sped away…, then I awakened.
reposted December 16, 2021
written December 8, 2020
A gentle kiss, sent love to her forehead,
unmatched to the unboxed dozen of roses.
Silence, comforted by re-assuring smiles,
they danced together, to their last hoorah.
A lover's tear, slid in the face of fear ~
will she remember who she was, before him?
10 July 2022
Bite Size Poem no.49 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier