Best Uncalled For Poems
Look closely, feel the harmless heat
enveloping black-diamond
petals in the glistening
garden of glossy geraniums.
There, sprouts rosemary dreams
from an untouched silhouette,
eager to be seen beyond
her perfumed pigments.
Her universe was sprinkled
with starry streams
of gleaming rays,
as she swayed to symphonic
serenades filled with hazel dust.
They may gawk with greedy
glares as wide as the night sky,
marking her with lecherous
objects that only please
shameless eyes.
She was never
in need of a sixth sense
to understand iron glances
that travel in nefarious packs,
with sugar-burnt hunger
washing all over her
unblistered flesh,
judging her concealer
as a manipulative facade,
seeking uncalled-for affirmations
that she never solicited,
misconceiving her thin lines
of red-river lipstick.
Her summer physique allowed
no consent for invasive intrusion,
yet carnal cravings become
unwelcome toxic trespassers.
Their immoral thoughts
believe shallow words
give them wanderlust wings,
while sinister stars in their sky
label her a soulless mannequin,
objectifying her
cinnamon-glazed skin,
sun-kissed hair,
and pecan-powdered~
caramelized voluptuous flare,
with their vehement
voracious desires.
Swinging penetrative thin blades
of opinions from miles,
oblivious to the fact that
she is the sanguine strength
that strolls in silver silence
across spiky swards,
suppressing the pain her
bones have endured with
every whiskering
whistle they wolfed.
There, if the mauve moon and
crystalline constellations look closely,
they would find versatile
mirrors of meaning
reflecting the times
she parades a smile too
comfortable to wear,
for they have concluded
her bed to be a shrine
of blenders and
overflowing thickened blades,
cursed by the biological
sins of Adam's ancestors.
Olive’s Cinnamon Bark
It took her some while to sense the meaning of feeling good in her skin
Her mirror her prism her mosaic glass and the mist on the crystal of time
At first it had appeared to project a tarnished reflection of yesteryear’s
Cinnamon Bark of Youth
A silver hair dropping its flair onto laughter lines and sorrow grooves
The imager an hour glass of pleaded messages to tempt with gloss and mask
To stifle the miracle silken touch with unkind uncalled for varnished perplexion’s
Olive Shine of Middle Age
Still a child at heart tanned by weather of challenges growth blissfully wild
Perception perspective’s inclusion recovered beauty never lost but adorned
With garnished collection of scent’s senses and unspoken images to become
Acorns of Seniority
27 March 2018
-3/7/14 and 5/2/14-
The waves of the sea and the screeching of the seagulls
Mix together like coffee and cream
I feel like I’m livin’ a dream
I walk barefoot on the warm, warm sand
I don’t really understand
Why you lay a hand on me…
Is it because I’m as mournful as the sea
Or is it because I’m the waves that swivel and dive down in ecstasy?
I don’t quite understand
The reason I feel the city’s pressure and hardness
They are cemented in the abyss
Serene Shores…
Sails in silhouetted slumber
Serene Shores…
Falls into flamboyant floors
Serene Shores
Guides me gently, giving me grand advice –
“DREAM ON, DEAR CHILD!”
The sound of honking is heard unexpectedly… the sound emitting out of the car
It was so uncalled for! It was going way too far!
I feel like drifting away in a deep sleep, carelessly hitting the seafloor…but I’m wide awake instead
I would like to lie lifelessly and tranquilly…I ascend from the water’s surface in disappointment – where’s my head?
I can’t completely comprehend
Why I am more in tune with nature – it could mend
A shattered soul…
A torn, forlorn heart…
Like my own
Serene Shores…
Sails in silhouetted slumber
Serene Shores…
Flaps its fantastic wings, favoring the light of freedom!
Sadistic Shores
Pushes me forwardly persistently, poking at me pessimistically–
“WAKE UP TO REALITY, YOU MORON!”
I ponder about the future and its many mysteries
There are clues in the surface of the ocean
I’m too busy trying to pick them up as I go…I wonder about the meaning of the past memories
I squander my time, getting caught up in bittersweet emotion
you never understand
what feelings a girl may have inside
what love may flourish
like flowers in a garden
or perish like roses
in a desert, desolate and dry
for one to truly understand
they must be one, hence
the feeling of misfortune
which flows so frequently
through the young womans soul
you may tease, you may jest
you may coo, you may swoon
but forever her feelings may always be the same
you may take advantage of her kind nature
and use her
she is not foolish, she understands
she may say stop and that that was uncalled for
but the fact that she stays
and does not run off
that shows that yes,
indeed that was very much called for
Any ~~ old or recent~~ love poem... the most loving poem... you've ever written p.d.
Attraction Fate
The law of attraction, when two worlds embrace,
The soul inter action, you are drawn to this race,
You may not find it, in any old place,
But blunder you will, into sweet interface.
Unplanned, uncalled for collision of stars,
The right n the wrong, don’t defend who you are,
The pull of the tide, the cycle of moon,
The cycle of love, “will it’s“coming here soon,
Fate is your carriage, you can’t dodge the blow,
Winsome and perfect, best flower that grows,
Just let yourself go, other half of the coin,
So fitting together, how love is rejoined, at last….
(This is a fictional poem)
You called me a bastard and that was uncalled for.
I don't want to be your friend anymore.
You're not only a jerk, you're a loser as well.
I'm tired of taking your abuse so you can go to Hell.
Our Sid felt well-jaded
his sweat, it cascaded
he feared the end was well-nigh
his head was a-pounding
a hush ultra-sounding
he all but stared death in the eye
Steadily declining
whinging and whining
to the good wife, who had a short thread
she saw a good chance
eyed him askance
said: I'll book you a hospital bed
Afore rushed to hospital
sweated and spittled
he eyed her boobies in double-D vision
for sure he'd have flown
had he but known
he'd been booked for a quick circumcision
Foreshortened but sharper
wooed by nurse Harper
he contemplated suing for cash
with his wired-up jaw
he sipped through a straw
animal innards and veg pulped to mash
Nurse Harper, aflame
with nary no shame
tended his uncalled-for member renewal
she was drooling and crooning
and dream'ly swooning
admirin' his family jewel
In her somewhat dazed state
her aim was not straight
she inadvertently turned on the gas
his urge was to flee
of his wires wrenched free
maneuvered escape from the lass
From two storeys high
(a short distance to fly)
which in retrospect is soundly insane
he took a long jump
balls-down with a thump
now his crotch is perm'nently sprained
**************************************
For Joann's copycat's contest. Initially written by Sid, our mad poet. I copied the poem to my hard drive but somehow the title got lost. Maybe he can help us out with the title he used then. Sid, you're the bomb, me man!!!
Please do not hold me within those claws of unworthiness
As if your judgment alone DEFINES me!
Get out of here, you little baby,
You don’t recognize what’s good for you!
Push away the peas,
But you’re still going to have to eat them!!!!
Your fresh eyes glanced easily upon stupidity,
No, not stupidity—merely mistake!
An innocent, mind-begrudging mistake!
That, yes, I admittedly made. . .
This is not even a scratch on the surface—
Not even a soft powder-pat on your tiny balls
That little trip up you witnessed,
That you misconceived as smart-alecky trash,
That you automatically assumed was ME,
It was YOU
So, rest easy,
I mashed the peas for you:
My heart is pumping with what you will never know
I am bleeding along the surface of your hardened exterior
I am a silly mistake in the form of a slip of the finger—
An acquitted mistake
That I will never make again
(trust me on that one, OLIVER!)
With all the efforts of justification,
You rest your eyes with utter annoyance upon me now
For that human, that CHILD standing there,
Smiling in the light like a sunburned baby’s ass
Is nothing but a diaper-filled disruption—
A **** disturbance uncalled for
But is adequately named, the one who IGNORES
The moment I looked at you, Oliver
I was certain of a sweet heart
It was in your eyes—a trust of kindness so genuine
So attractive you were,
Full of newness—a shiny toy that remains in the box
Limited edition (emphasis on limited)—exclusive….
By Destiny’s pacifying distain,
She taught me I could be crushed of dreams
The moment I fall on my face—
That people are not always who you think they will be
That I could be utterly and undeniably wrong in the good I see
And God, you sir, are so deliberately ugly to me!!!!!!
How’s that for an ETERNAL impression?!
*Sorry guys. But I needed a raw rant off my chest. Love you guys immensely. If there’s an Oliver that reads this poem on here, I promise I am not aiming this at you babe….just had to make that clear…. XD *
THE GRASS WIDOW
All this cowed earth in a blue jar, flowerless
Stands on the pine table. Clay and wood
Have broken spirit’s voice, to endow
With uncalled for happiness your fleeting presence.
Truth is blunt in your eyes: you do not love me
Or what I seem to claim in you, parenthood and nation,
Lest I decipher too readily the code of your person
And trade it for the platitude of wealth
Joining you has become. You would rather
Speak of the turquoise found in a still cave
Than wear the married felicities of our age
Wafer thin as an advertisement page
Adorning the scattered newspaper. My hands
Touch your face. Nobody loves you like me.
Time has everything
You only have something
From time life initiates
And you integrates
Time awards great
It offers love, not hate
When things go absurd
Your soul speaks unheard
Time survived its own existence
Yours has to live with persistence
World never asked you for a reason
Despite your fall in a season
If you rise, time holds the world
Because with time the world turns gold
Trials come not to put you down
But to give you time until sundown
Hills are tall and tough
Breaking your bones are not enough
Proving your worth a thousand times
Uncalled for to surmount the test of times
If you should flop or drop from up high
Do not fall playing like a bligh
If you will collapse and droop
Hold your soul, be calm and stoop
Manners come and go with time
Attitude is what speaks not mime
Your patience is the warrior that'll never submit
No matter how hard the lightning strikes and emit
Time will always be with you
Flow with the strength of time...
And let it grow with you!
I owe no apology for me being me
I owe no "i'm sorry" if I offended thee
I will never apologize for speaking my truth
Being sorrowful is uncalled for, for words spoke in youth
Any plea for forgiveness will fall on deaf ears
I was thoughtful in every vowel I spoke in my years
I have no justification, if it reduced you to tears
I somehow found joy in exploiting your fears
I was what I was, that fact remains true
But instead I can tell you just what I will do
I will assure you to help bring out your best
Can guarantee that I will try to help and invest
In bringing you closer to a better place of mind
I solemly swear, No words of unkind
With a vow somehow, change hearts on this planet
The covenent I explore is deep, I don't fully understand it
My obligation to mankind runs deep in my veins
I pledge to help relieve all the pains and the strains
The intention, with no pretention, is be who I was
Without the selfishness, or need for applause
Gov'ners were jealous and zealous the satraps -
One had received uncalled-for promotion.
With design to malign, these guys enacted
a divine trap for this fella's devotions.
"Accept this new law," they said, "Except to you,
O Great King, no petitions can be uttered."
A crusade to degrade, they watched Dan's window,
As he stepped up and prayed, boldly un-shuttered.
Their wily ruse worked and while he was kneeling,
they trotted off to the king and tattled.
Daniel was content to be pent up with lions,
but King Darius spent the night rattled.
Unarmed and unharmed, Dan stayed with the beasts.
In the morning, the king raced to the hole.
The lions in a daze; sudden praise he spoke,
"I'm amazed, God has delivered you whole."
Hear futile complaints among brutal beasts;
Officials are punished with fear and trembling.
They take a fair turn in the lair as ordered
God takes care of revenge for dissembling.
(dissembling means misleading)
based on the account in Daniel 6:1-24
to accompany the painting by Briton Riviere, Daniel's Answer to the King,
it seems Daniel continues to pray to his God inside the lion's den
There is no time like the present
The only time you can embrace
moments lived in absolute grace
There is no time like the present,
Not be wasted in discontent and lament.
With alpine mountains saluting you,
vibrant seasons and countless vivid hues,
Nature as if celebrates every minute,
why not honour the vast beyond compute ?
Digging the past and stay aghast,
setting soul to uncalled for lambaste,
Or anticipating that future be bright,
and waking up in distress past midnight.
Inhale positive vibes of torrential flow,
Appreciate seven colours of the rainbow,
Now be the secret, now be the song,
As needles of clock keep ticking along,
Feel the mystic fragrance as of today,
every today and each day after day,
If we could introspect and reinvent,
Be sure there is no time like the present.
Written March 31st, 2016
For contest "cliche" by Silent one
Now entered for "Premiere contest no 12" by SKAT A
Mere bits these bullets, so cold and gray
poison piercing's which the jaded heart conceals,
in the heady light of day good men reel
recalling these morbid missiles played.
Blood which hotly runs leads weaklings astray
bringing uncalled for blackness to congeal
oft in coddled, crimson, rivers most surreal
on pathways and walls, red ricochets.
Call back those loosed demons, wants, desires ...
become a brighter bit of coal transformed
a flaming diamond full of holy light,
'fore the bullets tear and youth expires,
praise not the bigot, brash and uninformed.
Be the truth which knows no ending, defy ...
for foul anger, hatred, violence, all underlie,
the crumpled wall, the tattered form, the child's sigh,
all poison piercing's guns and bullets buy.
Play not the shill for evil men who lie.
Let youth and fire... form facets.. for the right
and strengthen all that's growing in the light.
Caudate Sonnet
abba abba cdecde efffgg
volta line 9
*Inspired by "Scared Bullet" by The Scribe (Marlon Linton)
The mental stumble,
And gastric rumble,
And clumsy fumble,
Uncalled for grumble,
And frequent mumble,
All while you bumble
Through life boldly
And getting oldly.