Best Unburnt Poems
A cocooned cacophony of crickets serenades overgrown fields,
drowning out the creaking of rusted cars long since abandoned.
Maroon and sable tents blot the dilapidated ground—
bloated and weathered,
strips of fabric flapping in the harsh elements.
Legends of wraiths wander,
replicating whispers of infected insanity.
Laughter lingers in suspect echoes,
Rippling from pasts reborn in presents: futures to be later replaced by the past.
The smell of burnt sugar crackles with the purr of buttered kerneled corn: invading the nostrils with senses whose stimuli feign belief.
A faint humming of Entry of the Gladiators creeps in loudening crescendos, adding to the cacophony deigning dormancy in the field
Fragmented timelines intersecting by the call of the Barker
Stained cotton candy melts, reconstitutes, melts once more
Saturating replicating stands with insidiously sticky omens
Ghastly sickeningly sweet mori mementos
Resurrecting the dead from preternatural slumber.
Within fractured milliseconds, the cycle of the tormented deceased rise
From the ashes of unburnt airwaves,
Rippling through screaming minutes yet frozen in the midst.
A varicosed bearded woman floats aloft grassy overgrowth
Reanimated tigers lurk and phantasmal elephants howl,
Rings round the air in gaseous hush, like cigars puffed by moustachioed men of game,
Insufflating smoke with striped suits in candied reds and white.
The air rises to the resurrected show,
Cries confused for laughter tickle cochlea of the living.
ODE TO A NEVER RECEDING ECHO
For Onyebuchi
Day and night in an eternal combat.
A truce : the eternal cycle of night and light
Lost in the ruse of an eclipse.
Where is the truce in the ruse of going and coming?
You found yours swinging on that threshold,
Where udara tree dances to the choirs of the wind.
Then you bend to itch the scratch.
The debt of birth repaid too soon.
Where lion wimp and head dancer limp!
Crippled Aligo!!!
Have you journeyed through the chart on your palm ?
After a drunken sip of prerian spring.
Soured tryst with Sophia.
Cherubim through the umbilical returns
To the progenitor?not conceived! Unborn!!
Halo on rusty hair sits.
Or was it your iyiuwa. Unburnt
Pleat, unpleat then pleat…
Under the star-apple tree,
Where all roads meet
Do not live on the threshold
Stay with me, ignore the whispers of these shadows
Itching your feathered cap.
You have sucked through this nipple time dry
Leave her, now flaccid, bosom. see she shrieks.
Head of the Baptist shrieks
Superfluous gift for many half Christs,
Too proud for Baptism.
I wonder why?
A pine piercing the sun
Withers at the descent of a dozen, score moon.
Eleodimmuo it is you I am calling.
You, eternity lost in time.
A dance to a never receding echo
If now is dusk, I hope the echo stays
At least,for me, a pedagogic star.
While the magi?me, beside the manger wait
For the birth of light.
While owl hoots dove’s lullaby;
Vulture hatching in eagle’s nest.
You are my Ogbanje, my forerunner
Even if the lips of days hums dirge as they pass
Now, Soldier ant from the udara returns. again.
Matching, invading my tryst, feasting on a depleted layer.
Futile to chase; deliberate in pace
Need I learn this tune?if it never rest?
Fallowed stream bites as dreams cradle me.
The black thing chants Ogbanje, Ogbanje and I sign
At this never receding echo.
In memory of Onyebuchi
If you in dancing to, faults, my beat. see a fore admission of a mortal's fallibility
Uraoma Nwannem
© Chikwado Nwattah . 2014
Some of the benefits of life
are to be able to use what we have learnt
stuffed full of knowledge so rife
some of which when we find usage get us burnt
Although most of us will encounter some strife
a few lucky ones choose wisely remaining unburnt
treasuring the wildlife while avoiding the lowlife
once a wife is chosen things have to be relearnt
One night to be awoken to cries of go get the midwife
eight miles I ran as it was dark I did not get sunburnt
I fetched the midwife who bent my ear with her strife
said by now I should be wise and why had I not learnt
Safely home the wails grew in pitch and were so rife
I was living in fear that things that should be weren't
and deadly aware of what could go wrong ushering in afterlife
so now my life I have revalued learning all that needs to be relearnt
once again spelling are British English which often differ from American English
In a shroud of darkness
Her stallion neighs , leading death to
where death preys.
As black as the night as cruel as the day
Her aura speaking , in different shades of
grey
Steadying her steed ,the stench of fear
she inhales,
A smile so malicious , in comparison even
Hades would pale.
In blood soaked linen she prowls the
streets
Watching and yearning for hatred to
spill free
For blood to seek blood for vengeance to
covet thee
In the darkness of the shadows she
patiently waits
For when death calls, even fate makes
haste.
In the valley of death,
A golden gate is all that stands in the way
Of greedy wicked souls and judgement
day
Peter's gates seal shut And death stakes
it's claim
With a reign so great even the Roman
empire of olde, would in fear,disappate.
It sends forth its flails
A sentence to forever serve,
For when a black soul is captured
Only it's charred flesh remains unburnt.
Into the flesh of the damned it sinks it's
ravenous teeth
Untill their black hearts
have no blood to bleed
Christened with the power of Hell's
unrelenting Prince
To the depths of the underworld each
soul is dragged through hell 's fire,
forever to stay
Alas! Not even the most powerful can
conquer death
Their wretched lives full of fear and hate
Can never compare to their gruesome
fate
They scream in agony, fuelling hell's
vengeful fire with their pain
Their burning bodies for all eternity , in
hell 's fire will remain.
No bad deed, remains hidden,
no soul left unturned.
For when death stakes it's claim
Time shudders and in the name of destiny
you will disappear.
Once death's icy grips stain your foul soul
You will learn that even an infant ,
suckling on it's mother's breast, is not a
pure soul.
The Elasticity of Love.
Truth. Lies,
in-between,
teeming mindscapes,
arrhythmic heartscapes,
wildly cacophonous soulscapes,
all the while as truth slips through the cracks,
on time's wrinkled face.
How easy it is to sew the heart up,
extinguishing the embers crackling in a soul,
dousing the fires of yearning when memories bubble up.
How hard to euthanise such fickle whispers,
cremating unburnt passages of loose-leaf verse,
delving deep into a core once pure, and now rotten.
Shunning pleas,
ignoring plaintive cries,
sewing up the cocoon,
I want to rest in dead space,
As I,
slip inside private nightmares,
awakening long dormant fears,
eliciting a flood of tears,
Till I,
find that belonging,
that peace,
solace,
not much, merely a trace,
of belonging,
in a far-off inaccessible place.
By the fire in the night
Fireside firelight
Feeding air the flaring flames
Glowing dimly of amber orange
Slowly charring smoke rising up
By the fire in the night hearing that slight pop
Snapping the licking of the flickering flame
Afterglow the yellow to the engulfing of new grain
Wood untouched unburnt not yet fueled
Creeps along the fire pit
Sparking sparingly with the wind
Firelight fireside burning brightly as I sit
Hearing the wisps of flick to feed a process
Creating the base ashes are left
Grey to black coals to red
The fireside lit night unfolds
Embers glare as glow worms in the center pit
Watching as the fire consumes what is within
Evening with a fire alone solo just me
Unless I see the life as voiceless company
Oh my friendly flames
Flicker, fade and dance
Lash out at the this night sky
Singe my regrets of yesterday
And make ashes of my broken promises
Leaven unburnt only the inflammable truth
Let the embers simmer and raise up like a phoenix
Spread your wings and scorch narrow a trail of hope
That i may follow to its end where i shall falter and fall
And at that time i will call again upon you to flicker, fade and dance against my night skies
Half a heart
If I am at work
or at leisure
with half a heart,
No echoes, no thrill ...
Like an unsung song
broken strings of piano,
Waiting no mend
dying slowly, forgotten.
Like endless nights
staying dark and cold,
Some unburnt coal
with embers, frozen.
Like flute immersed in water
as no air enters or leaves,
Descend deeper, unblown,
unkissed, drowning.
Like a stone at the shore
I wait for a new sun
A wave, give me shake,
to make afloat, alive.
Else let tsunami engulf
or repatriate my bubbly half.
Written Jan 7th, 2016
For contest "Free verse extravaganza"
Sponsor- Catie Lindsay
The Vessel pt. 2 - Leviæthan
I
'neath the grim pallor of a Plutonian moon,
Sheltered in the cloak of Phantom's embrace,
A tempest rages within flesh,—entombed
Ash and soot caress expressionless face
II
Deep into that fire peering,
Long she stood there pondering, hearing
Voices, distant,—haunting, searing
'round a pyre—
Shackled bodies, writhe and hiss
Blackened pillars,—listing, burning,
Seize the souls upon them spurning
Faces, obscene,—enticing, stirring,
A sweet longing like unrequited kiss
O' What vile savagery!—provoking,
Her weary flesh into approaching
Weary flesh,—engaged, encroaching
Shorn of tattered garb and ragged stitch
—
Light and shadow, rhythmic’lly dancing,
Upon the flesh— lures her eyes adrift
Wolves hone in,—circling, incanting
Pounce upon prey and bind it swift
III
Lo!
The horror within her mind unfolding,
Lashed to the pyre—
To this pageantry, beholden
Her wail a dirge,—reshaping, remolding,
Their chant with a hex through fervent lips
A darkest machination set in motion,
Soon...
"Soon, I shall be," softly spoken
A hushed mantra into crescendo growing
The throng, strident!—quake like shaking fists
The earth shudders! Parts beneath their feet,
A chasmic yawn of indeterminate deep
Vengeance interred, on the precipice of sleep—
Awakens!
Through arms outstretched, a wind howls and whips
"So, I Shall Be! Reborn! Unbroken!
Take This Flesh And Bone —As A Token!
Payment! An Oath With These Words Spoken!"
Echoing through the endless Abyss
Shadow and flame,—coiling, rising,
Kisses flesh,—unburnt, undying,
Her voice, shrill!—harrowing, climbing,
Shatters the firmament with perfect pitch
Down!—
Down rain the heavens upon the wicked—squealing,
Whose sloughing facades,—smoking, peeling,
Reveal faces, familiar,—cruel, deceiving
Raze and ruin by one decried, "Witch!"
—
Within the veiled darkness sempiternal,
Souls, like dying stars, ignite The Black
Falling embers till bloom inferno,
Long she gazed into the Abyss
—And it smiled back
IV
Through a mirror darkly, her mind unbroken—
Phantom bestows a Faustian gift
Laid to rest—
No epitaph, no words spoken
Upon her brow, placed a gentle kiss
Friendship floats freely like waterfalls,
Falling down from on high. They spray
Welcoming mist, we breathe into our lungs.
Friends are like tides rolling in, receding again.
Letting us breathe a peaceful solitude, if that is
Our mood and stories are shared without
Judgement, ridicule or rules of engagement.
Our defense against a sometimes cold, cruel world.
Friends part freely, crossing our unburnt bridges
With gates left open. Invisible sign says
"Please Come Again".
These rooms. The smell. Stale. Stacks of forgotten books. Pages chewed by rats. The windows are broken and the walls have holes. Paint and wallpaper peeled away. The years have been harsh.
I run my finger over what was green checkered paint. I shiver.
What is it about this place.
I see it off the highway everyday. It taunts me.
"Come here" it hisses.
Is it sad or sinister?
The floors creak in pain and shadows run away at a side glance.
I move freely in silence between spaces.
I feel welcome. I feel hated.
Theres a larger room at the back. It's just bits of a charred frame now. A fire had taken its character away long ago.
The air still here. I don't feel alone. I don't feel welcome.
I see a piece of unburnt paper at my feet. It's out of place.
I recognize it from a book of the dead.
Nothing rests at peace here.
I'm overwhelmed with emotions that I don't own.
Tears fall.
I drop the piece of paper. It blows away yet there's no breeze.
I quietly utter an apology for trespassing.
I’m cold. It's time to go.
I step over a pile of burnt wood and old brick. The letters SW are scratched in the material. Those are my initials.
A voice in the wind that has appeared without reason trails past my ears. "Staaaay"
Hell no!
I walk away faster.
Pictures on a wall.
I know I've seen these.
The people in them are watching me. Their stares reach deep inside me. More tears.
This is their hallowed ground.
Two minutes ago I cried here.
Two hundred years ago I died here.
I am introspective
I am extrospective
I am healing my ills
I am building my will
I narrate
I assimilate
I am making sound out of ink
I am settling a drifting idea till it sinks
I memorise
I picturise
I am hanging onto the past
And yet embracing the future
I am reciting
I am writing
I am burning the unburnt
I am learning the unlearnt
I am not a poet yet until I get
The will
To sink
Into the future
Weaponised by what I have learnt
Your Darkness Punishes But Does Not Win
Ravaging of Time- its sharp savage blades
Often minor cuts, blood spilled with no thought.
Hidden pains of lone, dark nights, midnight raids
From which no saving reprieve can be bought.
Clinging to that last old withering branch
With endurance built in bravest of souls.
Life holding out for its sad and last chance
Soon to embrace night, black as unburnt coals.
Death, thee hast come to do Time's last commands
With thy blades its servant, wicked with glee.
No power on earth, sends thee reprimands
As no power can drain Time's endless sea!
When innocent souls meet thy merciless blades
Mere mortals ponder, life's foolish escapades!
Robert J. Lindley, 2-06-2017
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 11 11
Total # Syllables: 142
Total # Words: 107
Note: Time and Death, twins that work to bring darkness, defeated only by the saving Light of a Doorway, when opened.
Pathways have no boundaries,
thinker was without a thought.
Hostile mind refuses to believe
truth was missing from life.
From depth to depth measurement had failed.
God does not know his creation now.
Foolish flesh now burns in thudding bangs
of dry butter. I want you to touch the
opaque eyes of eternity. In captivity of
sighs and groans. You ought to understand
who was original. There had been free
invitation to become unfaithful.
There were masks, gene shifts and longevity.
This evening a drama will be enacted in sky
by unburnt bras and a black hole. There will
be thrill. It was easy to bury the skulls among
floating names. The wreath will be placed
on the transitional edge of sweetness.
Which never was.
SATISH VERMA
For you
I am walking on rocks
holding unburnt match sticks,
you want me to throw them
behind me.
To step down in lake
for washing sins
from the snuffed out
skylights.
Between green and blue I climb on leaves.
Remained pygmies
till end,
in frail human relationships.
All that we saw, was only for ourselves
in questions and replies.
Wasting shine of titles,
followed by empty looks.
Nothing remained to be said.
Food was left on the plate
untouched.
SATISH VERMA