Best Unconscionable Poems
He's staring again, standing by his balcony door
The way he did each morning, even when I was there
Writhing in pain after my heart from my chest he tore
And as I walk away, my heart on my sleeve I wear
The emotional abuse was unconscionable
Yet for years I clung to hope he'd appreciate me
But his anger just grew, attacks became physical
Till I'd had enough and desired only to be free
My clothing, my perfume, many things remain behind
I'm standing now an I'm finally walking away
Wondering why for far too long I chose to stay blind
Proud I had the strength to leave, I greet a new spring day
Categories:
unconscionable, introspection, recovery from...heart, heart,
Form:
Quatrain
They call you the fallen one,with short tuffted curls
the one responsible for the chaos in the world
you may be the cause,as we live the effect
but your time is near,as you continue to infect
Like an invisible predator,you prey on the weak
like a pride of lions,you pounce on the meek
false pride as it is,your rebellious tirades
the lamb shall arrive to expose your charade
You've enjoyed this sadomasochism way too much
mad puppeteer with an unseen touch
unconscionable,incorrigible,shameless you believe
disgraced by your own doing,from tricks up your sleeve
There are some whom believe,even you have a purpose
hard to conceive,as you delight being murderous
ravager of souls and the misled conscience
fantasy and fallacy are amusements fictitious
But I...
Sheathed in light,resistant to your malice
filled to the brim like a holy chalice
illusory charms deflect from the scene
impermeable am I,to your vicious deeds...
especially,
how you conduct your kangaroo court......
Categories:
unconscionable, satirepride,
Form:
Free verse
We forced her into menopause well ahead of her time.
Mother Nature’s prematurely changing and we’ll regret our crime.
We cut off her tresses that once bushed across her land,
polluted her oceans and soiled her golden sand.
Moody and unpredictable her volcanic eruptions flows,
fed a daily diet of plastics, pesticides and GMO’s.
We sweated out her edges and turned her temples gray,
while her hot flashes melt the glaciers that dissolve more each day.
Her skin is dry and arid as she blazes across her earth,
destroying crops and animal life, unyielding, no longer giving birth.
We ravaged her Amazon where green algae and flora once flourished,
only two days shipping while populations starve and many undernourished.
Waken with a splitting headache as earthquakes and tornados roar,
we have become her burden with our excessive cries for more.
Gas emissions have choked her and left her in a daze.
The damage is done, too late before we change our ways.
She is like a bridge as our weight has caused her back to bend
with greed, corruption and the unconscionable conscience of men.
How will humanity survive when Mother Nature has no more to give,
what will become of our children, where will they have to live?
This is a time of urgency, but we have been fore warned.
Her end is rapidly approaching, for “hell has no fury like a woman scorned”.
Categories:
unconscionable, earth, earth day, environment,
Form:
Rhyme
Into your arms, we raise our lovely children lost!
The innocent ones, that we raised and you created...
Killed by a soul-less madman,may his judgement
be swift!
Forgive us, for we are horrendous killers, too!
We the conscience-less, we killed far more unborn
today.
Seven hundred, who will never see the light of day?
Our selfishness is absolutely unconscionable !
But we care not for your word, only our selfish wants.
We cry for elephants, but a child’s death means but
naught to us.
We are led by crackpots who shake hands with the air??
And, yes, these very same, smilingly, support infanticide.
And we are lied to, in the name of political power.
No gun has feet or hands, an insult to human thought.
But dead bodies, Lord, are gold to the politically inept!
When their political power, thirsts for tragedy, from a
well deserved, selfish drought.
Death and Satan, today, doing a most joyful dance!
For now..here is power’s golden chance.
To create fear, the falsehood that guns kill.
Guns are not human beings,only a human pulls the
trigger.
In the Judaea- Christian Bible, writ for us, it states:
“Thou shalt not kill”
Here on your planet, tyrants, for that is who they are..
Want to take all guns away,that won’t change our loss
today.
But when tyrants own all guns, they will turn them upon
us, to them, absolute power loves absolute fun!
Do turn this Spring day, the deepest, ebony, black!
Till we start turning our backs on lies and slaughtering the
unborn, so plentiful.
And come back to you; and till then, we are most sinful,
lost and utterly pitiful.
A special place for the beautiful teachers, killed,I do
beseech thee.
They, like you, Lord, loved children at their knee.
Alas, special people taken in May, help us heal, Lord?
Of this, I fervently do pray!
5/24/2022
Categories:
unconscionable, children, death, god, loss,
Form:
Free verse
“A Diary of Occupation”
Vakulenko Volodymyr’s last work
(Banned in Ukraine) eastern part 20%
Diary of Volodymyr Vakulenko — painful and true records that the writer kept from the beginning of the full-scale invasion and during the occupation of Izyum and his native village of Kapitolivka in Kharkiv Oblast.
Dangerous to the Russian occupation force
A bright and cheery children’s book writer’s remorse
He said on the tenth day of occupation FSB
“It’s who you remain during all of this”
Then, buried his manuscript underneath a cherry tree
My heart sinks when I think of Vakulenko and Victoria
A Poet, a journalist in this bloody war
This is about a writer who’d know what was in store
His hand-written manuscript's underground in his backyard
Russian troops surround his village put him on guard
His life stolen they would pillage, his books
found and burned and captured him
O Vakulenko, we’ll carry your script in our bosom
Following his death and the liberation of Kharkiv
Victoria the one his journal of the war would retrieve
Her book of Ukrainians who wrote on the war, her mission
Was killed in an air strike
Her books by Russia deemed sedition
Worried he would be tortured or killed,
in the black Ukrainian soil
Her life was also taken in turmoil
Ukrainian man in a war-torn country
Today I honor thee
Your words shall be read
Around the world spread
America like Russia may do the same
Banning such books unconscionable shame
Categories:
unconscionable, bible, books,
Form:
Rhyme
Things bloom more beautiful when breaking down.
The nave now ploughs through foams of flowering trees,
a frozen caravel. Kissed by the breeze,
the river surface suddenly seems to frown
exquisitely. The apse’s jaunty crown
of weeds above one (sightless) eye would please
romantic poets. What was once a friese
lies strewn about, a shaley shanty-town.
We love whatever withers, atrophies.
To see a calked construction founder, drown
beneath its own detritus, by degrees
slough off its shape and, sinking to its knees,
expire, is satisfying. Velvet gown?
We’d much prefer to see a soiled chemise.
A lake? A cloud? A mountain? Megan Fox?
If we acknowledge Beauty in these things,
what are we saying? As when Smokey sings,
or girls emerge in slinky summer frocks,
something’s taking place outside the box
of regularity, and sprouting wings.
How might we classify these happenings?
A rupture in the norm? The whole Baroque’s
built on this very point. If Beauty rocks,
what is the special quality it brings,
and why is it so pleasing? Beauty flings
a spanner in the works of Orthodox,
and laughs at Workaday. It mocks
our essence, lurks in quirks, and smirks at clocks.
“The Wordsworth ouevre is cretinous. Discuss.”
The Long, Laborious Quest, The Sparrow’s Nest,
The Noble Oak of Guernica, Addressed –
We can’t escape the feeling he’s a wuss.
His subjects are unconscionable, plus
the rhymes he uses are a facilefest.
If only he were even half in jest!
His humour’s unintentional, and thus
more entertaining than he could have guessed.
Yet something in his scribblings seems to wrest
significance from dross, analogous
to Newton’s differential calculus,
invented by the by, at whim’s behest.
When Wordsworth falls apart, he’s at his best.
Categories:
unconscionable, poetry,
Form:
Sonnet
Caregiver
Caregiver,
You came into our family
As a river of hope.
Ever flowing, always there,
Providing loving care,
So we could cope.
Caregiver,
You became an uncaring taker.
With your undue influence
You spent her money
On your own selfish wants.
Under false pretenses, you dragged her along daily,
Using her vehicle for your own personal errands.
Like a foe you fought our family!
As we became wise to your machinations.
And when your goose was finally cooked,
Your last act was to vandalize in secret,
Leaving her heartbroken.
Oh, Uncaring Taker,
How unconscionable were your actions.
How hateful you became.
Why were you this way?
How I would like to make you pay,
But it's her wish to leave it this way.
***
December 9, 2019
F T I SPECIAL family
Brian Strand, sponsor
Copyright © 2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Published 2018 in "Up In Smoke - A Collection of Poems" via wattpad.com
Categories:
unconscionable, abuse, caregiving,
Form:
Free verse
"New Covenant"
Heaven was on earth
in those days, all connected,
yet, the challenged unseeing
lost in the
Garden of Eden,
walking in circles
life
bleeding,
time wasting
the vacuous,
calculating,
yet, unconscionable
all seeing
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Categories:
unconscionable, muse, mystery, philosophy,
Form:
Narrative
Politicians play upon our fears and dreams.
They lie to us with pretty promises,
tied up in ribbons and bows, but when opened,
they are found empty.
They promise prosperity,
as our country sinks in debt.
They promise freedom,
as they rip it away beneath our noses.
They promise safety,
while conspiring with the enemy.
They lead and we follow,
like lambs to the slaughter.
It's time to say "ENOUGH!"
We sheep must become lions,
and let our roars be heard!
Let these unconscionable liars know,
that we have awakened from our
mind-numbed stupor.
We will no longer be gullible children
believing every word.
Wake up people!
Take off the blinders!
We have been deceived!
We have been led astray!
And they must be held accountable.
8/14/15
Categories:
unconscionable, political,
Form:
Free verse
Was professor of astronomy, ah those heady days
Studied fields in cosmology, including solar rays
Observed galaxies all my life, seeking exotic events
Ironically happens now, as my death’s dispensed
By dour hospice window, seeds a suffusion of light
Not dazzling, quite fuzzy, discernibly white
Shallow luminosity, enters my departing room
‘Twas pitch black this night, no forecast moon’
Growing in intensity, colours turn purple green
Must be an invasion, of extraterrestrial aliens
Hope they finish me fast, this final stage is slow
Then the fireworks start, whole world’s set aglow
Heaven’s have ruptured, no raindrops seen
Cataclysmic silent eruption, yet everywhere serene
It’s not possible, unconscionable, too far south
Only a gamma ray burst, could bring this about
A possible hypernova, just light years away
Hits Earth’s magnetic field, in a mega-aurora display
Iridescent photons, avalanche over me
My teardrops fluoresce, through the apertures of agony
Hypnotic warmth, released from cold light
My woes are assuaged, God this feels so nice
Semiconscious state, accruing spiritual bliss
“So this is how life ends, amid ethereal fine mist.”
Nurses are praying, down on their knees
Speaking foreign languages, at wonderment they see
Some fear the apocalypse, whilst others run about
I hum Cohen’s Hallelujah, but these words spill out
#O come purge my mind, cover woes
Give back the life, that I forgo
Help me bear this weight, won’t ya
Blind darkness, annihilate fate
Finish suffering, show your face
Unleash the love, they call Gods grace!
#Hallelujah#Hallelujah#Hallelujah#Hallelujah#
Pyrotechnics are over, now quiescently asleep
Drowning no longer, in pillow soaked weep
Greeting my parents, bereaving my family
As I enter a tunnel, leaving the apertures of agony.
Originally written 02/18/21
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 19 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
11/06/22
Categories:
unconscionable, allusion, death, irony, uplifting,
Form:
Rhyme
Unconscionable
She attacks my weak ego
My sure existence
I hurt with ultimate pain
Crushing my very being
She destroys my peace
All which brings pleasure to me
Sure does falter here
I don’t know her reasoning
For my love is hers alone
Russell Sivey
Categories:
unconscionable, confusion, life, love,
Form:
Tanka
Diogenes holds a lantern
Hypnotized- the faint light
Eyes search all nooks and turn
Desire in them makes them bright
Drank no voda only lie and deception
Hegemonized- lost- sick of hunger
Pathologized- TRUTH the only medication
Unconscious he is with thirst growing stronger
But, egregious- incorrigible or glib
It’s all he finds- the chronic liars
The consummate and congenital lie lay down deep
Inveterate they are unconscionable buyers
He’s finished his search in Athens
Hope’s alive! The hill thus flattens
Categories:
unconscionable, courage, faith, trust, truth,
Form:
Sonnet
Its now to question
It's now to dicuss
It's now deny
Any hold over us
By the spawn of
The unconscionable
The dregs of the dregs
The descendants of
Misfits septic as pus
Unacceptable beings
Being devoid of true
Soul, lovers of gloom
Who live as in holes
Like spiders in Webs
They only can kill
If their dens are not
Cleaned out; nows
No time to be still
It's time to be active
Spread the news all
Around , their agendas
Have lost it, Humanity
Is taking back ground.'
Categories:
unconscionable, celebrity, character, child abuse,
Form:
Rhyme
These words
Stream-of-consciousness-soup really
Rarely chosen with care
Falling on thirsty ground
A lost soul trying to find
"the great forgotten language" *
For
"the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth." *
Uh-huh, I see you pointing
To the "lost lane-end into heaven" *
And the shepherd standing there
So, I tried to be a sheep, to babble things I didn't know
I found salving comfort in believing I was right
Protected
And loved--no matter what
But "the great forgotten language" *
Of the forever lost and alone
Drew me again to this place I never left
Where I knew before I nestled in her womb
The "quiet desperation" **
That haunts us all (according to Thoreau) **
So, yeah, these words
I'll keep putting them down in the lost and found
Because somebody might need to know who I am
I do
These breadcrumbs to the deep dark core of my existence
(Not to find me out but to find me in)
No one has to read them
They're uncomfortable and nearly unconscionable
Yet I can't not write them down
Like Thomas Wolfe wrote Look Homeward Angel
Then You Can't go Home Again
(LOL)
They might not lead to where I want to go
Or anywhere at all
And that's okay
T.S. Eliot said:
"We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time." ***
So, yeah, that's all I want
Makes me feel less lost and alone
So putt'n deez words down Imma gonna keep
(Duh--)
* From Look Homeward, Angel by Thomas Wolfe
** From Walden by Henry David Thoreau
*** From Little Gidding by T. S. Eliot
Categories:
unconscionable, identity, words,
Form:
Free verse
… to Stoop to that Level
… I have to Fall from Grace
… that Which is Beneath Me
only Educe a Downcast Face
… but, I would never Lower My Standard
to Equal a Crazed
Unconscionable Candor
And Rancor Debased…
… so, Snip, Snap, Yip and Yap …
Honestly, I’ll Pray for ‘ Me ’ and You
… for That, is the Wide Gap
and Difference Between The Dry Well and Living-Water True
yet, I Humbly Bow My Head
so I can Lift Up Hope…
… and Hands and Hearts-make-Glad
… to Voices Shared … in Words ‘He’ Spoke
‘Cause, I am ‘ ‘MoonBee ‘ … I’ll Not Cavil
and to Let My Light Shine …
I’ll Never Stoop to That Level
… I Must Only Rise … and Climb …
Categories:
unconscionable, allegory, daughter, devotion, faith,
Form:
Light Verse