Best Uncorrupted Poems
I leave my four walls
and walk away from the hardness
And coldness of my surroundings
I find the steps that have no footprints
Deep into nature’s sanctuary
With each step I feel more alive
And regain a part of myself
I need this
I ache for this
I have longed for this
Each step brings with it
The awareness of how long it’s actually been
I plant my feet on the softness
Of the earth
I breathe in uncorrupted air pure and healing
I sit on pillows of the greenest mosses
And fill my senses
Nature’s aria
Scents that I savor
The peace, oh God yes, the peace
I close my eyes as my emotions settle
God how beautiful you have made this world
This is the inner sanctum
The true holy of holies
It restores my soul
Invigorates my devotion to you
Blesses me with an ardor for life
And brings me peace
There is harmony between
Mind, body and soul
A union between myself, nature, and You
And I am in one accord
Each time when I visit I wonder
Have I stayed away too long
Once again will you be able to revivify me to consciousness
Resuscitate my spirit and make me whole
And always the answer is
Amen
Categories:
uncorrupted, natureme, me,
Form:
Free verse
This poem is done in the Rubaiyat Style. 4 quatrains long. Enjoy.
Gods’ Secret Spot
Oh snap, look what my eye done seen,
A limpid pool reflecting gold and green,
Behind are some peaks, reaching for the sky,
So clean, so pristine.
A little red shack sits on the edge of the plot,
In this land, what you have is what you got,
Life uninterrupted, pure, uncorrupted,
Gods’ little garden, in Gods’ secret spot.
Look to the north and what do I see?
Mighty peaks looking down on me,
But the true wonder of this day,
It’s presented by God, and it’s totally free.
So, when life gets you boiling hot,
And you are bewildered and emotionally shot,
Just remember the serenity you received,
While visiting God’s secret spot.
************************
Written for contest: Use Rubaiyat Form
*************************
Categories:
uncorrupted, natureurdu,
Form:
Rubaiyat
We separated like wave and shore
Leaving our feelings bare like sand
I heard goodnight and replied in kind
There was a love song humming on my mind
And I longed to be a butterfly up in the sky
Carried in the cuddle of the wind anywhere
Far enough from fret and tear.
I turned from constructivism to solitaire
And the love song in my mind keeps humming there.
A shadow across the light at edge of eye
A shuffle, a tap, a heart summoning sigh
A form between a drape and wall
A neglige like wings defining the butterfly
The game was done
The call of manhood from its cave found light
And with the silence the eyes told delight.
Appealing womanhood textured by night
My life is the opera, how ravishing the beauty of her eyes
She showered him, he showered her
With praises tender as kisses, with sentiments
Sweet as the melt of chocolate in caresses
And in their tenderness we were born again
A long time coming
To the spray of the shower out of the rain
How the bed like a calyx welcomed us
How your body like petals responded to the chorus
Of drizzling sunlight from my fingertips
Of cooling balm in the wind on the moon's soft lips
Every part of your body was an anthem of praise
My love was fount springing up like eternity of days
I want to love her always like that night
The groom longed to ravish the bride again
To lavish on her kisses suckling her toes
And play love's concerto on her legs
Adante, adante, adante says the opening thighs
Allegro, allegro, allegro says desire
And I heard the crescendo breaking in my heart
When our mouth met in tender places and long again
O I long again for the silk sweet of velvet softness
For the uncorrupted innocense of flesh with flesh
As the wave rolls in to cover the naked shore.
Categories:
uncorrupted, love, passion, song, body,
Form:
Free verse
"Cerberus Uncorrupted"
Every day I go to that box ...
at the top of the page,
left side, upper
its entry reads:
“What are you looking for?” -
waiting for an entry…
the brain presses a full stop,
the fingers hover and ripple
like a maestro leading a chorus
the fingers tap dance
poetically buying time
the heart tracks,
its silent voice speaks
piercing the suffocating silence
"the ability to read
what is meant to be read
front and centre, after all...
is said, and done"
the vision sits still in front of me
like a quaint loyalty and a strong desire
to understand it all
the innocence
of a mind uncorrupted
wide open
to the Light
that opens a heart
viscerally corrupted
waiting to be loved
waiting to be patted
the sun always setting
the sun always rising
calls unsilently
to me
Candide Diderot. ‘24
" ... "Do you love me yet?" Cerberus said..."
Sharon Osbourne, Short :
"Today my dog and I went to the beach and I caught her taking it all in"....
(this is the video you need to watch).
Categories:
uncorrupted, inspiration, love, muse,
Form:
Free verse
It's not the years in your life that count,
It's the life you put in your years.
Years spent in indulgence of self and greed,
Will end lost in regret and tears.
Wasting your time in bars and in dens,
Of iniquity drain your soul dry.
All you'll find there is deeper despair,
And a well full of sorrow and lies.
Your time is best spent improving your mind,
And improving the body as well.
Your body's a temple to be kept uncorrupted,
Your mind the sacred inner cell.
The way a man thinks shows just what he is.
It reveals the condition of his soul.
What comes out of his mouth goes on in his head,
If he's well, sick or dead will be told.
Your life will be long and your days will be glad,
If you listen to what I have said.
When you're out on your own you decide your own fate.
It depends on where you make your bed.
Categories:
uncorrupted, encouraging, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
I catch the rain, speckled-droplets of life on my skin.
The pure water that instills life in our beings, soul and kin.
I catch the rain on my face to feel the wetness
In the heat of the yellow sun---in that brightness.
I embrace the dark wet earth
As it envelops me for a moment in its warmth.
I rise with the sun; I go where the wind takes me
To far horizons of this world and others in its fury and fume.
Pondering over lush green valleys of fruit and sweetness.
Hovering with the hummingbirds
As I smell the scent of the honey-dewed mistiness.
My soul enters the deep white clouds.
I feel the fresh stream of water on my limbs.
I meditate on the moon.
As it transfixes me into their world of rapture, purity and fun.
Their world, uncorrupted by the immoral vices of men.
I drink the cup of purity in their den.
In that faraway world where our dreams begin,
And our wakefulness ends.
Dare I make an oath to God?
Dare I be one with Him, nature and the universe?
Dare I venture atop the highest mountain?
Look down at the lake of my soul and sing this verse
So I can see without my eyes.
Yet see my soul deep in that dark blue lake.
Dare I smell without my nose and feel without my skin?
Inhale the sweet scent from that lake,
Feel the cool waters of that creek,
Have a vision rich, colourful, vibrant
With hues of red, blue, green and yellow--my soul radiant.
The brightness of my union with nature and God as I swim
Diving deep into the depths of my existence without care or whim
In this time amongst the willow
As I slumber in a deep sleep on God's soft pillow.
Categories:
uncorrupted, appreciation, blessing, earth, god,
Form:
Free verse
Run, you savages! Columbia the Combine is coming!
She harvests the fruits of nature too dark and ripe.
Her pale, white skin juxtaposed against her dark intent
Will show you what she really wants:
“Surrender, demons!” she cries.
Her minions follow suit, those wild-white settlers.
Behold, even the sun rises in the east and forces you west,
Getting rid of the darker clouds and darker people.
Although your bison is strong, her locomotive wins.
The landscape is golden, as if transitioning from
The transparent nature to an opaque shroud.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a return to nature,
Unadulterated, unblemished, uncorrupted,
No Columbia.
-------
This is about the 1872 painting "American Progress" by John Gast.
Categories:
uncorrupted, allegory, art, dark, nature,
Form:
Ekphrasis
Amateur poetry season is over, move closer, its wisdoms time for disclosure,
The takeover, sober, waging raging kosher words….….. Transferred,
ABC’s with wise syntax, heard and dispersed to the brains synapse,
Jumping the gaps, from axon to dendrite with inner insight, so go write,
From higher heights, beyond the clouds drop eloquent lines departing with tips, they exist composing manuscripts,
Intrigued observers are given apprenticeships, those with zero fatigue before the apocalypse,
Deciphered divinely and discharged upon earth from moving lips,
Simpleminded unknowledgeable critic’s quick to judge, too much neurotransmitter sludge,
Rather like a Gold Rush, traveling promptly to these passages emplacement,
Filed rhymes in the uncorrupted minds location, layman’s trivial mentation left in the basement,
Inspired statements forever, the fewest few only believe, however,
Feuds with biology of belief disbelievers, conceive intellectual transgressors,
Exercising self with better endeavors, adapting to intelligence, apt genius’s,
Dextrous minds equipped with germinating seeds ridding the phoenix and exiting this world’s nexus,
Those in line are next, complex thoughts impart light to their neocortex with quantum sight and emotional arousal,
A causal relationship with special inspiration, a skill at ease for those with understanding psyches.
Quincy Mac
Date Written: 28.5.2016
Categories:
uncorrupted, allegory, fantasy, magic, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
There was an era long ago,
When dreams could freely age and grow.
But seasons turn,
And times discern
A change in dreaming winds that blow.
The crippled compass now divorced,
With careless chimeras endorsed,
The thoughts surpassed
The shattered glass
Of dreamer's mind now reinforced.
The vague veracity of truth,
Exists in uncorrupted youth.
The frail romance
Of time and chance
Reforms the wilderness with couth.
Instinctively, like nature's brood,
We undergo the shifting moods
Of Moirai's will,
A monstrous hill,
Until we fall and thus conclude:
This destinationless campaign,
Without the dreams is rendered vain.
And soon we see
That dreams are free;
And hence we flee from fortune's chain,
The fetters of our mind's domain.
Categories:
uncorrupted, allegory, imagination, life, philosophy
Form:
Rhyme
1
If I can just spread my arms
and embrace my students
when they need help.
If I can just see all the things
that they do to remind
them with love.
2
If I can just protect them
from the fangs of danger
and be their hero.
If I can just be the solution
to all weariness and cares
they encounter.
3
If I can just read their minds
and know what they need,
what concerns them!
If I can be a meaningful word
that encourages them
all the time.
4
If I can just be their dreams
that can be easily reached
and be fulfilled.
If I can just be their footsteps
that lead them always
to the right path.
5
If I can just be their conscience
that prevents them from doing
unacceptable things.
If I can just their tongue
that speaks rightfully
and uncorrupted.
6
If I can just be their cell phone
that sends love messages
rather than hate words.
If I can just be the internet
that diverts bad desires
to an educative websites.
7
What else could be the effective tools
I can just be in order for them
to be better persons
each day?
I can just be their humble teacher
to pray for them earnestly,
to shield them all the time.
I can just be their prayers!
Categories:
uncorrupted, dedication, education, happiness, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
In today's sunlight bleached ... The woman sit
Covered by modernity in a complex view -
Of purple printed dress exhaling his wit:
A purple bag juxtaposes the old with new
She seems to sit on the lowest green rows
Of hill, her mocassin boots in a blue shade
All her mystic Indianess about her flows
Like sunlight through the childlike glade.
And I before him stood a child amazed still
With the uncorrupted pastoral of his world
The unblemished lines of a rolling hill
Stretched like a strand of fencing his love unfurled
Denying the eyes temptation to things
Grander than a pink sky above it all, one
White cloud of memory like a tear brings
The absent buffalo hunters from lost horizon
Categories:
uncorrupted, art, history
Form:
Ekphrasis
Relentless and pitiless and unforgiving
Always taking from the living
Second by second, day by day
All of our lives slipping away
Finite is our time here on Earth
How many know Time’s truth worth?
Only when the clock has nearly unwound
Do so many finally come around
To accepting that mortality is our Fate
By then, of course, it’s far too late.
Time should be cherished, appreciated
Each moment of every day celebrated
A moment passed cannot be regained
Only as a memory can it be retained
There are no second chances, no negotiations
Time does not work to rules and regulations
Once you have used your personal allocation
It’s time to make room for the next generation
When Father Time comes a’knocking
It should not be at all shocking
For we know from the very day of birth
That our time is limited here on Earth
So when you are drawing your last breath --
Face-to-face with your impending death --
Slip into eternity with courage and grace
Be glad to relinquish your earthly space
To a new soul who will write their own history
And leave their mark on posterity.
The Cycle of Life continues uninterrupted
Constantly reborn, renewed and uncorrupted
Time marches on with supreme impunity
Which is how it always was and will always be.
Categories:
uncorrupted, inspirational, philosophy, uplifting,
Form:
Couplet
We stand on the shore where blue sky meets
blue grey horizon seamless, faultless, dynamic,
tide laps the beach with timeless, metronome beats,
seagulls hovering, hanging from the sky like ceramics,
waves building gaining power, spraying the sweet air,
our celestial star creating rainbows multi coloured prisms,
heart warming breeze gently blowing through your hair
sights and sounds extinguishing any thoughtless criticisms,
we stare out to sea in utter silence, hand in hand uninterrupted,
thoughts flowing through our minds feeding our hunger
for the serenity being served unconditionally, uncorrupted
by natures natural beauty, no one could ever make a sunder,
we turn, and with our eyes we express our satisfied heartfelt
Pleasure experienced in unison motionless undying admiration,
beauty that I was witnessing, yours and what nature had dealt
was certainly a heavenly gift of love and to our satisfaction,
then slowly yet gently you fade as you have so many times
before from my life slipping into just a memory of what was,
taken from me and your family was one of life's crimes
now alone I stand on this shore with thoughts of my loss.
23/11/2016.
Contest love story
Sponsored by silent one.
Categories:
uncorrupted, appreciation, beach, beauty, bereavement,
Form:
Rhyme
The beauty of white snow silently dropping.
Blanketing the forrest while no one is watching.
Morning awakens, breath hangs in the air.
Evergreens are bowing as if in prayer.
A coffee mug thaws hands aching in pain.
Cradling comfort in my wilderness of stain.
My simple shelter erased by white snow.
The world here moving at a slowed tempo.
Alone in the woods, a strange place to meet.
No reception to enable a tweet.
Without foot prints in snow he did arrive.
My heart protesting I may not survive.
Interrupted by the uncorrupted.
And wide eyed busted by the one trusted.
Does a sculptor carve with none to purchase?
Or an artist paint without a purpose?
A musician will play to empty seats.
The same as athletes who just must compete.
A code is written in the DNA.
Convincing and compelling to obey.
So the painter paints and writer writes.
The absence of an audience highlights.
There is glory and purpose in being.
Beauty and wonder in clearly seeing.
That we are made in another’s image.
Bearing his own likeness a privilege.
Being who we were created to be.
New each morn with originality.
So God paints beauty where none is watching.
Not to perform, our ego mocking.
But because a creator must create.
In places near and far to punctuate.
We are not the cause though we do witness.
Not the center, our soul sickness.
A million paintings before I arrived.
And a million more long after I’ve died.
The sun is setting with growing shadows.
The performance ending, the curtains close.
Laying down in a tent I close my eyes.
Slowly burried in snow i recognize.
That I’ve been with the painter, and he continues to paint.
Categories:
uncorrupted, creation, death, silence, snow,
Form:
Rhyme
From cave pictures, with hand sprayed self portraits.
To a churches pulpit displaying Psalm Twenty Three.
The writing's on the wall
From mud huts to stately homes.
The writing's on the wall
From the bullet chipped, blood soaked wall of the firing squad
To the nail driven torso hanging from the eaves
The writing's on The Wall
From the cleaved head. Reminiscent of Salome's deed.
To a child's barrel-bombed and desecrated body, too
late to share the uncorrupted mind.
The writing's on The Wall
And from the push of the first button to the push
of the last button.
There will be NO writing on the wall
Is that the writing we want for us?
The world is at war and humanity is in flames.
And I have tears. But, nowhere to cry
Categories:
uncorrupted, peace, war, world,
Form:
Free verse