Best Unclad Poems
It’s in an Autumn kiss I feel again
Nostalgic yearning for the yet-to-be.
Awakened, I’m released from the mundane.
No other kiss inspires so magically
As fall’s! I breathe her colors in and sigh. . . .
Unleashed, I soar with leaves, for it’s a thrill
To taste the wind and dance into the sky.
Unclad and glad, I swirl with clouds until
Misgivings come to me. Then down I float.
Naive as always, I’ve been led by this
Kiss, for now a melancholy note
Is drifting through a mist. Farewell to bliss.
Soon winter will embrace me though I know
Seduction comes less easily by snow.
An Acrostic in Sonnet form, Written Aug. 26, 2012
A dream is the touch of her palm
or her lips glazed in fruity balm
to lay a hand on skin so soft
be new measure for pleasure oft;
To hold her to me ever tight
and dance beneath the evening light
across her surface, hand shall slide
setting pace for a gentle ride;
Embraced by moonlight used to hide
laying unclad hand on her side
the feel of flesh perfect as such
tender caress desired as much;
Lips so lustful at once they touch.
The blood and lapis daylight sets
in ether. How the mind resets
brutality of winter chill
with February's codicil;
what gossamer a dream begets.
I hear the crickets in the dark,
their clicking takes up where the lark
has been. The flagrant marigolds
have huddled into twilight's folds,
on sanguine nightfall to embark.
The eastern zephyrs fall and rise
with rapid movement of my eyes
and echo whispers midnight makes
of blood white trails on moonlit lakes.
In silhouette I recognize
a dogwood, though can only sense
its glowing coral consequence.
The blossoms tell me they comprise
sweet spawn of sun rays in disguise
and capture all my heartbeats hence.
Now honeysuckle is entwined
on crisscrossed pathways of my mind
with jasmine in a potpourri
to conjure shamrock reverie
that leaves the pewter scape behind.
Around the lambent dogwood tree
alone upon that verdant lea
buds can prosper, bees will hum.
As though seduced by opium
I greet a vista I can't see,
at least not quite. I know it's there
and feel the dogwood everywhere,
behind me, flanking left and right,
an omnipresence in the night,
like answers to unconscious prayer.
Now high upon a clovered scarp
the tree is standing clear and sharp.
In silence I see restless blooms
play music that my ear assumes
is chiming dulcet as a harp.
Such Efflorescent star bursts splay
like windmills on a gusty day
that in ebullience do portend
a vibrance that will never end
and all my reticence allay.
In waking to a winter storm
that's February's gelid norm
I long still for my fulgid tree,
resplendence that surrounded me,
but only meet a turbid swarm.
I rise and pull back hermit drapes
to see the torrid flurries traipse,
yet through the chaos can discern
the leafless frame for which I yearn
beyond the window storming scrapes.
The dogwood stands just as before
unclad upon the icy moor
with nascent berries undeterred
as though through humble verse and word
like daylight through an unclosed door.
2/23/18
Strength Thru Adversity
Gregory R. Barden
I've heard rumors of unicorns
Seen only by the faithful sworn
Rising in glories you foretold
From valleys where oceans are born
You spoke of passages in gold
To take, if my vision was bold
Enough to follow where you led
Unquestioning, into the cold
I fell for promises unsaid
Surrendered to you every shred
Of light and beauty I once had
And to your dark delusions wed
We left as sun-blinded nomads
Criss crossing straight lines into plaid
As I remembered what I knew
Truth re-emerged, brightly unclad
I could pretend that red is blue
I could declare my heart stayed true
I could deny the voice of doubt
But I can't lie as well as you
10/09/21
Exposed and bare,
stripped and stark-
a body without a soul is nude...
an unclad essence in the dark.
Unvarnished and unsettled,
raw and unprotected-
me without you- defenseless...
an overt still rejected.
Within my natural modesty,
I've found a reason to be prude-
a manifestation and oddity,
I'm more hidden in the nude.
November 13, 2016
We are born into the world unclad
Soon we learn that clothes must be had
Good from a negative trait
Can be found if simply we wait
To recognize good we must have bad
At fall's end, I breathe her colors in and sigh.
Unleashed, I soar with leaves, for it's a thrill
to taste chill wind and dance into the sky.
Unclad and glad, I swirl with clouds until
I drift through mist. Farewell to all of this.
Winter soon will bring my lips its snow-wet kiss.
They sit with a purpose in sight
inviting me sweetly with bright
yes they bloom at will
cuz they know the drill
those flowers of sentinel light
Competing for my sweet attention
they wait for my pollen retention
they signal me home
where I love to roam
those flowers of beauty reflection
Wiping the pollen away I am glad
secreting the nectar dropping a tad
a succulent flower
sure holds the power
when a seedling in love goes unclad.
June 10, 2022
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Contest Name: Bee Creative
The eyes are the windows to the soul
But I once had my shades pulled down
A mysterious individual difficult to figure
Masqueraded around town as a clown
Always been known as a jester at heart
But some say it's a cover, a facade
To hide this feeling of insecurity inside
Wouldn't allow my soul to be unclad
Well that most certainly used to be true
But poetry has allowed me to be me
Under the cover of a protected environment
It's allowed my true self to be free
The truth will out it's always been said
In my case it's proven to be so
Owe my appreciation to all my poet friends
And to Cathie, my wife, my soul
A new found confidence after many years
Not the person I started out to be
Feeling of freedom expressing my thoughts
Nonjudgemental, a feeling of free
The eyes, it's said, are the windows to the soul
No truer words have ever been spoken
Poetry has allowed me to forever be free
My long silence has now been broken
If time were ours, would we be glad
Would we fill it up with plans and things
Would we spend time wisely, or go mad
If time were ours...
I know that singers would endless sing
I know that clowns would always be sad
I know that to you I'd always cling
If time were ours...
Would cruel tyrants be swiftly unclad
Would people proclaim that God is King
Would we all link, arm-in-arm, comrades
If time were ours...
We approach the house, to trick-or-treat, but wonder if we dare
The porch is dark, no light or spark, to help us find the way
We peek inside, ........does the old man hide? We see no one is there
But, we rang the bell, and wait a spell, the door begins to sway
Through the crack, pursued, a room is bare with unclad shades of gray
Arthritic winds have tossed us in, with a wretched dismal hand
The trees bend low, against the house with solemn loathing dread
With branches, brisk, it rattles glass, against the window pane
We look around the cheerless room, a terrible scent of wrong
An angled light has slithered in, with shadows deep and long
and spotlights what's become of him, the man who isn't there...
with a room unkempt, some muffled steps, and as if a ghost might stare
Four vinyl seats, Formica clad, a room that needs repair
The table set, a plate of food, is rotting by the chair
A cup of cold, a cigarette, still smoking in the air
The room depicts, what might have been, but reeks with wrought despair
A parakeet within a cage has mocked us once again
The voice is shrill, it squawks with rage, 'Unlock me if you dare!'
The floor is strewn with littered seed, where mice have shared the spill
All time has stopped, in ash and dust, the hours couldn't care.......
We take a breath, too scared to move, for we are not alone
For company, a skeleton, sits beside the sofa's edge
against the wall, it smiles at us beneath the window ledge
No eyes to stare, yet seems surprised...as if a joke is played
Inaudible, just barely heard, the wind begins to howl
Or is it we, who scream to be back home in Mommy's arms
Outside the house, we hear an owl, and we begin to run
into the night, into the light, without a bit of fun!
No Snicker Bars, no Tootsie Pops, no candy corn or Mars
A trick on us, no treat it was......we've lost our appetite!!
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For Contest: Halloween Night
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
With sadness and a deeply furrowed brow
I am apalled at the hate and wonder how
this world will somehow manage to survive
while bigotry and enmity eats humans alive
Lines are drawn between black and white
by those with penchants to bicker and fight
Words fly like feathers plucked over a nest
Blood seeps through the wounds in my chest
Humanity has fallen from grace and gone mad
Dark visions are of sorrow, my thoughts unclad
I've been stripped bare, left moaning deep sighs
Tears held in check behind my lamenting eyes
If you think you are innocent, you have no clue
You continue to accuse others until you turn blue
Point those scornful fingers at your sneering faces
Where anger and bitterness have left ugly traces
Earth is my sinful child but don't call me "mother"
Your wickedness and abuse causes me to smother
I pray with each mournful beat of my woeful heart
Seek the truth before you tear this sad world apart
.
With prudence I stepped
in the candle lit room
yes
with the utmost discretion
and yes
there she was
without the layer to cover
her pink flesh
How prudent could I have been
with knowledge of her whim
a soul did ask
“Oh"
says i
unclad before him
“an entry with facts supersedes
an entry of chance”
That bullet stung
My socks are on vacation
For sandals rule the day,
Since summer’s heat demands
That unclad toes be on display.
They rest in little bundles
In their drawer where they await
The flipping of the calendar
Onto a cooler date.
I can’t say that I miss them;
My feet feel better bare
But when the weather changes,
They’ll be there for me to wear.
On the edge of town, in a painted house, with unclad shades of gray
the north winds claim the somber dawn, on a dismal winter day
The trees bend low and the sun peeks in, as he slowly leaves his bed
Then with rote routine, the coffee perks. Next, he grabs the frozen bread
Four vinyl chairs, Formica clad, a game of solitaire
Before him sits a plate of food, at a table set for one
A cup of cold, a cigarette, and he who sits alone
The room depicts, what might have been, but reeks with wrought despair
Inaudible, just barely heard, he hums a song they knew
He tells her that the coffee's done, and offers her a chair
He shuffles cards, a few for her, and pours a cup of brew
He sips his own, then cuts the deck ........for double solitaire
He takes a puff, then bites the crust, charred taste of toasted bread
For company, she stares at him across the morning's edge,
Her body propped against the wall, beneath the wooden ledge
Her fixed eyes stare, as if surprised... . The one-eyed Jack is red
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