Best Unfastened Poems
When twilight's spectral fingers fold
Sweet blossoms of every hue;
Some half opened bud will hold
Its pearls of evening dew.
Touched with every sunshine hour
The eternal earth has shown
All the perfume of the flower
Till it finally becomes its own.
We that wait may never find
A chance to sing our praise;
For memories we seek to bind
Take the scent of fading days.
The poet who has never spent
His words in futile strain;
For him the misty dewdrops lent
Their diamonds to the rain.
Unfastened in their fragrant bell
They tell their own dear tale;
Then from the cloud from which they fell
Their haunting scents exhale.
Winds caressing fringes of
her deep chocolate tresses
as tree nymphs nimbly hid
midst fallen maple leaves
happily prancing round toes,
whilst a crescendo of chimes
played off in near distances,
warm apple pie aroma wafting
upon a zephyr tickling her nose,
unfastened her reddish cloak
for her e'er plunging neckline
exposed an ample décolletage
voluptuously heaving in broad
daylight waiting to seduce a crafty
wolf in sheep's clothing she had afore
encountered on the way to grannies,
called ahead to make reservations
for her & handsome knighted chef
hiding amidst the dark forest with
his trusty sharpened butcher knife,
had acquired Wolfgang Puck's
wickedly-satisfying secret recipe
for savory pack-of-wolves stew
Li'l Reddish Revenge is a dish best served cold-blooded with liberal
scads of punitive napkins and a bottle of vindictively chilled Chianti
those days the sun flew like corn flour
freshly ground at the millrace
even in winter it was yellow
when I pressed it down with my thumb
like an unfastened button on my chest
I hardly cut my way with a stick
through the tall weed field
until my knee high socks
were filled with thistle tassels
jumping over the fence like a thief
into our apple orchard
so no one knew where I was
when the Big Dipper rose over the barn
I slipped on the manger’s opening
inside freshly cut grass
stealing my grandma’s small chair for milking
singing for the young foal with caramel skin
those days all hearts were red and warm
in the shape of a gingerbread heart
each star was a story
whispered by fairies in the daffodils’ glade
In the fragility of dreams
With my eyes wide open
At the onset of daylight
Crawling tint of lilac hues
Sparkle dew drops on lilies
Engulf my soul in blues
To see the world alive
I find myself wondering
Of the desires buried
Deep inside this fragile heart
The forgotten people,
The abandoned roads,
The lost moments,
The unhealed scars,
The yellowed pages,
All from my journey so far
Make me feeble all day long
With a darkness beneath daylight
In the fragility of dreams
With my eyes half closed
At the onset of dusk
When lavender sky illuminates
Exhausted turquoise tides,
Sweat-soaked memories
Comfort my enervated soul
Provide drowsy solace
To my played out heart
In the weariness of windows
Too unyielding to be unfastened
Yet willing to let the light inside
The cocoon of my hopes
Breathes half-heartedly
May be not to fly but to survive
Wrapped in the panacea of twilight
In the fragility of dreams
With my eyes meant to be closed
I wake up on a glistening blue night
A nostalgic halo opens the windows
Clenched by my wavering anxieties
I find my wings and spread them wide
To fly afar through the elixir of night
It reminds me of everything
That had once been mine
That could have been mine
And that still is and will always be mine
That all my life is but a circle
Meant to be found around
That nothing is ever lost
If in my heart it will be found
That my fragility heals my scars
Strengthens my spirit
Renews my pages
To explore my roads
Full of errors or glories
That the hope on which I never give up
And the love dripping over my soul
Is my eternal elixir of life
That when the day is over
Night will always revive
My wearied heart and memories
Courage in my tenderness
I find a waterfall of love and hope
When my eyes are meant to be closed
At night, in the fragility of dreams.
May 18, 2020
~Winner: 1st Place in STRAND NO 760,any form any theme Contest by Brian Strand
~Winner: 2nd Place in In the fragility of dreams Contest sponsored by Silent One
Pretense blinks unthinkingly
prominent neon sign
Promoting delicious wishes
heady aspirations primed
Porous ears absorb spiel
Charmed python entrancing rises
Web weaving traitor traps
victim with outlandish surprises
Silkily wrapped casualty constrained
unsuspecting pawn amusing lure
Deceipt's imminent death awards
trust's established pristine pure
Glitz will blitz framework
Compulsive claims manifest
Embellishment dispelled reveals
authenticity's skeleton undressed
Facade unfastened, centre radiates
fanciful distractions fewer
Universality within, truth begins
ribcage contents not obscured
Fantasies bring brief buoyancy
beguiling sunlit lake beckons
Submerged, burdened by treachery
sub-plot sinks with deception
Scope of hope propels
Capable fables capture listeners
Sugary cubes stirred dissolve
friction breaks tenuous fiction
Candid connection invites valour
Ethics draw worthy goals
Integrity's impeccable map guides
shared navigation nourishes souls
Tracing Outlines on my cup of tea
I stare at him out of the corner of my cavernous coffee eyes
Sitting there reading Che, Zapata, Chavez, Castro
Blinking, breathing, seething
Intense
He’s got me hooked already
Looking at me like I’m something new, I can see
We can speak without words
Mocha latte skin froths me up
Style Stirs a little bit of interest, it’s the smile, dimples and all
That gets the engine to stop roaring and to purr
I want, to get, close, release, Intellect steaming, smoldering against my gaze
What’s your Addiction?
Is it money? Is it cars? Politics?
Words spilling, sun streaming, whip pulsing
Connecting from two different worlds
I promise to reveal real
Addiction
affliction of exotic tendencies
Building castles in the air, my charming urban King,
Fantasize with me, delicious remedies that would soothe
Jade Hearts, green and young, frozen and strong, we are the same
Baby Boy I deserve
To be served this kind of ecstasy
Asian dreams of china dishes crashing on the floor
Scrambling to get some more, more, more
Images fly past too sweaty to grasp
Slicked up thigh and long black hair down to middle of the back
Lips curved around hips and legs tangled with minds unfastened and, and, and
oh Damn
I got this, I know who I am, something you will never see again
In years, lifetimes, eons, all the dimes and pennies in the world will never amount
To Priceless
If I get up and glide past
Letting my scent, spicy, seductive, forbidden
Unbidden, he shall follow me
Into the fire, desire, baby
To get some more, more, more
The first hint
I stood at the gate
and was shocked to find
the clasp unfastened
It swung freely on its hinges
as if it had not a care
to whom might enter or leave
I looked out towards the horizon
across the wintered over field,
a stark white landscape
I saw nothing but barren trees with
twisted branches creaking,
silhouettes reaching on an opaque sky
I felt scared and nervous…
what would happen now that the entryway
to my heart had been left open
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder,
and looking to my right, there you were,
smiling a sunrise on my face
So I pulled the gate closed,
secured it tightly as I found the first
hint of spring in your kiss
Good morning Soupers
Why They Love
A hollow slept in me with the face of a window flung open to nothing at all,
I waited for a voice the way forgotten sand waits for the rain of a distant sea,
you came carrying the exact tone my soul had been dreaming inside its silences,
like a key made of air slipping into a lock of light no one had ever unfastened.
You saw me past the layers, past the fear, past the silence wrapped around my ribs,
you sank long glances under the skin of my days painted thin like cheap cardboard,
you introduced me to myself the way you'd meet a beautiful stranger in a mirror,
and ordinary life peeled off me slowly like an old poster from a forgotten wall.
My sky-starved soul received a pair of wings stitched together from your whispers,
love is not an equation, it's an unknown *x* we carry around through entire lifetimes,
you can't hunt it down — it shows up only when you've stopped looking for anything,
you collide by accident with a soul that somehow smells like a home you lost once.
How strange the human heart is — it ignores hundreds, then clings to one alone,
to the one who smiled differently, who looked at you from an angle nobody walked,
to the one who spoke with the softness of slow rain on a roof of old worn dreams,
and it doesn't pick the ones who'd die for us — it picks the one who makes us alive.
Love is imagination too, building houses in the mind from bricks of thinning dream,
we live whole lives with that person in silence, conversations that never happened,
we ache for futures left untouched, we miss mornings that haven't yet been born,
we carry entire cities in our heads where they breathe and we are no longer alone.
And maybe that's why it hurts so deep — they enter us before reality lets them in,
they slip past the ribs and settle into the quiet rooms beneath the brow of thought,
losing them isn't a parting — it's a territory dying slowly somewhere inside you,
a piece of yourself that only existed because they once woke it from a long sleep.
Poems in the night rain.
By
Jude Kyrie
I remember that poem.
it was so very long ago
I think this misty rain
brought its memory back.
I was walking
in the olive greens of the park
then a beautiful poem
fell from the clouds.
The most beautiful poem
I search the park this night
I call out his name softly
Poem Poem
Come back to me.
Then my poem appears
still beautiful.
still with soft spoken words.
So tender this poem.
The poem asked me to take
It back to my fireside
Where it unfastened my blouse
Whispering its soft hypnotic rhymes.
Words I had not heard since forever.
Then from outside the window
I saw the poem making love to me.
So tender and beautiful.
When he had finished
reciting its love poem.
We lay by the firelight
drinking wine
and spoke
of commitment.
A house full of forever's.
Homes and children
and other untruths.
I have been pondering for quite some time,
Is there a permanence to the meaning of the word ‘greatness’?
Whatever does it mean ‘to be great’ or ‘to feel great’?
You see, from ever since, I’ve attached its meaning to superiority,
Something unreachable, beyond my wildest imagination.
With branches beyond the skies,
which climax at levels exceeding human capability.
And thick, fibrous roots so deeply entrenched,
that they become onerous to deracinate.
But over the years, my realisation has surprised me.
I have recognised that greatness has distinctive,
yet instinctive qualities.
Much like a budding and unfolding bouquet of roses,
Its perfume is subjective.
Pungent to some, but fragrant and elegant to others.
Its vessel comes in different forms,
Some curved, thin or well figured.
And its florets can bud, bloom, change colour or even decay,
depending on the level of care.
Similarly, I have discerned that greatness resides in each of us.
Its aura is unfastened by our creativity and vision.
And it is unbarred by the similitude of unreached potential,
encasement or bewilderment.
And, at last, there cannot be any fixity to its meaning.
Rather, there is much subjectivity, intuitivity and reason,
that we must open ourselves up to receive.
I hope you receive and accept your feeling of greatness,
in whatever form it appears.
Love & Light.
07/04/21
One thousand and one fluttering butterflies in one centre all
flap their wings sharing ambrosia for my soul mate and I
Mysterious nights in soft embrace tending sensuous flight
dance to tunes of the muezzin praying for love’s melody
Turkish delight on the shores of Baklava sweat meats taste
under a veil of exposure in nubility’s promises reconfirmed
Silk’s fragrance on a magic carpet in full flight shelters them
as their passion was made for more than the dusk of the dawn
Mosque and musk mingle when fast is broken and garments unfastened in
the East when sun rises bids farewell to the moon and their vows bow to
Tantra cosmos and mantra and
give thanks to the orbit they do not have to travel alone
12th February 2018
Old age hasn't turned out the way I imagined
Thought I'd be surrounded by young fillies, what happened?
In the old folks home
They just babble and moan
Instead of “ride 'em cowboy” methinks they've come unfastened
The Dry Dispatches
To the sullen cemetery in the sun we trudge,
No better place indeed to find memory’s heartbeat,
and a plate of forgiveness inside its eating green gardens,
as human bones hypnotize the dry dispatches.
No, I cannot sit here and continue to listen to you.
You try my patience.
My wish is for me to find death fast,
In my sleep of life now, no sooner,
For I have found distinct closure for my life;
Indeed I have made my final peace with God,
And as I now sit facing the sunset of my days,
I am reminded of so many faces from old times,
Old moments with humans foolish and brazen, as most are,
In their fleshing hearts and in their breeched dramas.
Shh, I waited inside the back door for your lusty footsteps,
Waiting for your anxious moving shadow as you arrived barefooted,
And when I opened the peering door, you said nothing,
Just turned around to be unfastened and unzipped,
as most sane lovers do, and then I brought you to the floor.
And silently danced with you in the naked darkness of temerity.
Oh humans, foolish and brazen as you are!
I cannot seek death because I am dead now myself,
Just a sorry ghost roaming with the myrtles in the distance,
Long ago, before the now of today and the road of regret.
I feel fire's forces from afar,
and burn to grasp the answers
to this tamed self, taught at last,
by searing flames unfastened.
Freed from fast, one day we'll feel
sacred touch all burnt hearts heal,
and all the straws at which we grasped
be long forgotten, deeply buried.
Life's sad times exposed, yet brief,
mind's memories of pain and grief,
will hang a final fireworks display
to linger faint glitter blown away
within the aura of the Milky Way.
One instant of life's dismay dismissed
as one second in all eternity's bliss-
A shooting star's delicate trail burnt unseen
in future's eternal, glorious being.
13/10/2017
The Philippi rulers had Paul and Silus beaten, imprisoned and their feet clamped into the stocks.
Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises to The Lord continuously after the cell was locked.
But at midnight the prisoners bonds were unfastened when the foundation started to shake.
This happened because God caused an earthquake.
The jailer feared the rulers because he thought the prisoners had escaped and he was going to commit suicide.
But Paul told him that they were still there and the jailer saw all of the prisoners, what Paul said was verified.
The jailer asked Paul and Silas how that he could be saved and he was told.
They said to believe in Jesus and he would be saved along with his household.
The jailer cleaned Paul and Silas's wounds and then they baptized the jailer's family.
Paul and Silas were released from prison and then they were asked to leave the city.