Best Unfastening Poems
Chasing Rainbows
I've never believed in chasing rainbows.
How would I find the end of one of those?
Where do they begin? Where do they close?
I never have learned where one quickly goes.
It's as elusive as a night without sleeping,
Or wasted tears over lost love's weeping.
A love no longer held in safe keeping,
Caused a pain in me that was deepening.
I couldn't climb the mountain, though I tried.
I had to reach the summit before I died.
After my teardrops had all been dried
I found the courage to say goodbye.
Climbing my way up was no easy task.
I knew the answers to questions unasked.
No guiding light in which I could bask.
I couldn't live my life while wearing a mask.
I'd been living in subtle shades of gray.
Love faded like rainbows that never stay.
I stumbled and fell in so many ways.
I was lost within an inescapable maze.
Life is not a game played without care.
A cloak to discard when too warm to wear.
It shouldn't be filled with grief and despair,
And never treated as a burden to bear.
I had many doubts as I was leaving,
But I had to end my sorrow and grieving.
And through it all I went on believing,
It was only himself he'd been deceiving.
I'm no longer haunted by the falling rain.
I freed my heart by unfastening the chains.
I frayed the ropes that caused me pain.
But terrible memories will forever remain.
I shouldn't hold on to them. I shouldn't cling,
Nor penned these words to give them wings.
But perhaps it's good to remember the sting
Of chasing rainbows and illusions of things.
~ April 2015 ~
I walked by the old cafe on Rue De Sienne and heard an angel playing harp
a cherub an ethereal mome bewitching me and playing softly with my heart
she wore a halo made of gold, a soul that laddered up beyond the tarp
and as the fluent clouds rain-teared upon her alabaster tunic.... Art !
Each star a studded light inside her angel eyes of blue. Each note
commemorating, unfastening, abducting, a copious symphony of one
The buckling breeze became her muse I, a kite released in far remote
a Mystic with no malice in sight stringing up the moon and jealous sun.
June 20, 2018
He, a seeker after Truth, set out
on an audacious journey
to see his old master
with a handful of blooms
he paused before the open door.
from deep meditation
the squatted figure, looked up.
in a trance, he saw the silhouette of a man.
on gazing intent, emerged distinct
his former disciple, left long ago
seeing his hands laden with flowers,
the master smiled a recognizing smile.
in close surveillance, the penetrating eyes
gauged him through and through.
the master’s pursed lips opened ajar.
from him, arose a single word-
‘’ Drop”
gentle but firm was its timbre.
he dropped the flowers, one by one.
in sterner voice, the master said,
‘’ Drop”
all at once, he let the remaining blooms
go off his clasp
and down they fell around his feet.
folding empty hands, he stood,
waiting for the master’s behest
after an eerie silence,
once more came the hefty command--
‘’ Drop”
stupified, the disciple queried-
‘’ what more should I drop? “
eyes emitted sparks!
‘’ not the flowers, but your ego”-
instant was his reply.
a spear stuck deep into his self.
as by a whirl wind, his body tottered.
he felt a deep twirl inside.
unfastening the hinges
of the imperious shutters,
a boulder rolled down,
dropping to the ground with a thud.
back home, the disciple gleefully walked,
the clogged fog clearing from his head
ego shorn, here now reborn
in a state of divine transcendence
feeling as weightless as a feather
~Placed First~
8. Jan. 2022
This or That.Vol.9. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Edward Ibeh
~Placed Fifth~
In 'Ego Shorn, Here Now Reborn' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by-Unseeking Seeker
unfastening
her belly
button
When I read, gravity loosens its grip,
a small unfastening felt first in the ribs.
The page tilts the air, bending it around me
like a soft distortion in the fabric of breath.
Words behave as particles~
colliding, scattering, recombining in the quiet behind my eyes.
Characters arrive as changes in mass,
their presence altering the room’s center of pull.
Some make the world lighter;
others press gently on the sternum
as if adjusting the density of thought.
I feel them move through me
like currents slipping along an unseen axis.
Sentences stretch time~
not metaphorically, but with the slow elasticity
of something being warmed by attention.
Moments dilate; minutes contract;
the clock becomes a suggestion
rather than a law.
My pulse syncs to the story’s frequency,
a low hum of shifting energy
that travels through bone and breath.
The book becomes a field generator,
rewriting the physics of the room
until everything around me feels slightly untrue
and beautifully so.
By the final page, equilibrium returns~
but not the same one I began with.
When the book ends, the world doesn’t snap back.
It settles slowly, in its own uneven way,
as if the constants I rely on have shifted a little.
I move through the room with a changed center of balance,
still feeling the story’s pull inside me,
a private force that lingers long after the cover shuts.
Unfastening clusters shining
one treasure in the mind
planted with seed of joy
you're the life within this garden
Sunlight of you absorbs into my being
petals blushing lips of truth gently whispers
Blowing in the wind beautiful flowering leaves
a warmly misting vision colors beauty in your eyes
A single flower leans into the waterfall
pulling me down under
delicately broken in a gentle silence rustling
when the cherry tree opens its blossoms
Embracing feelings in the merest touch electric
holding hands wishing in the sweetest moment forever linger
Dream you sing with the songbirds
amongst the angels chants your harmony a blessing
Sweet scent of summer hawthorn blossoms
you take me away into another world sailing on your tide
A co write by Maria Mc Laughlin and Liam Mc Daid
She was ethereal in her beauty.
I always loved her of course.
But only from a respectful distance.
She collected glass animal's.
I always gave her one for birthdays.
She would kiss my cheek in thanks.
Not the kiss I craved but a kiss.
Her perfect French braids
framing her lovely face.
I fantasized unfastening them
Slowly so her hair flowed
Like the soft spring rain
washing my bare skin.
She would show me the
Intricate color mix
in her glass menagerie.
But I only saw the colors
of her hair her eyes her lips.
When the sickness came
Her skin became
taught and translucent like glass.
The weight loss
showing her frame
She looked more and more
like one of her
beloved glass collection.
Then when we lost her
She left her collection to me.
But the one I wanted
Was on a high shelf
Beyond the clouds
Far beyond my reach.
stress gives way to pain
provoking paranoia
unfastening fear
Depress gasp peddle
make jest mettle, mannequin IQs
easy to steering will move
Simple-minded plan acceleration,
night shift flux be
turbo stupidity
Oxy dark vacillation
speedily end in
moronic wind tunnel termination
Pulse crash dummies
swerve change rational lanes
dash bored recklessly
Cranial balloon buffoons
always gon fail
those lobby pop quiz pitch tease
Stooge sputtering cartoons
fatally skid sail —
Icy ad vice was a lemon squeeze
Vacuous palpitations
ventricle bend:
Idiotic windy flummox sensation
Pulse crash dummies
defective air bag manic brag
of vent kill mentality
Empty parking lot feelings
are plastic bosom empathetic tested
Accidental findings be fume ingested,
poser belt fear unfastening
Sift through the scattered remains
of collateral crash dummies
Tik-tok stamp the carnage strange,
ventriloqi emotional debris
Shelf life of lights
=
A thoughtful commentary on the shelf-life of sunshine
flares up on the kitchen; here her quick hands have been
getting pickled and spicy, with each turns of time she’s spent.
Days are, of course, growing thin; like her little family
which has been unfastening. Son has gone to the town;
his dad has lost appetite; the vegetable patch’ve dried.
She looks at the brown cat, it seems to attain bodhi.
The salty air teases her hair, unknotted it.
“You look great.” The wind’s accent, slightly slurry, comes inside.
It reminds her of youth, insouciant, innocent.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Porky Pig plastic bank, streaked with tears
Offered at my parent's bedside as they quarrel
over money scarce like the scent of angels
Bickering exhaustion
that steals the dark's stillness.
______________________________
7am Saturday morning cartoons
incentive to rise and spy Bugs Bunny
a trickster, brash, cocky
pulling me into rabbit hole hijinks
Elmer Fudd befuddled - Daffy Duck diddler
Road Runner renegade, as Wile E. Coyote flattened
explosive pursuits
surreal mirth
Jarring clang of animation - smack down liberated
from the blare of discontent
Saturday morning cartoons, Looney capers,
sketching my childhood fantasy
in flannel pajamas comfort
For a TV box, within my reach, magical getaway
vortex of forgetting
Cartoons of hilarity
washing my sealed world in whimsy
unfastening laces of grit
thriving like the history carried within us
robbed, from a child's bank of remembering.
Poem revised: January 27, 2021
Inside the skull
Tenderly kept a bud
Petals are held
together tight
Containing all the
beauty
The driving force of
the world
Like that of fingers
in strength
Clinched into a fist
The fist looses its
fingers
In love and in
kindness
And falls flat to
turn
To dissolve into a
palm
Like that of the bud
Unfasten the tight
by the petals
In rain, in light
To bloom into a
flower
A huge release---
A great
revelation---
A freedom gained
A relief from pain
A beauty
The real delight of
the heart is born
The flower drops
its petals
In freedom, in
relief
But gets wings of
reason and logic
To turn, to
transform
Into a baby -bird
Like that of a moth
Morphed into a
butterfly
In ecstasy, in joy
Test its power of
knowledge
In its first flight.
When the New York City jazz deafened
With fiddles through the fogs
A random of birds buried themselves down within
The cloudless sky more than ever.
Nothing else appeared to recovery through the dust
Of the moonlight beyond the mass of maiden flowers
The deep wall that soon would fade into the horizon.
Have you ever seen the sun hardly showing himself
With strangely scarf the fall of this soft morning?
I've seen it as a centerfold howl unfastening
Its wings peeking out at the exhausted dew.
After such a long gaze, when the airplane
Had reached its heights below toward the other world
Fitting my tears the waves of people swallowed
The massy star through the dirty blue into fire.
Where, in this tearing moment, to call it a day,
I might find my old man playing chess at Times Square
Or sitting along the Central Park feeding
The filthy pigeons with peanuts and M&M candies
While the gazes go on and on after the 9/11 nightmare.
the chill wind through
a tightened throat blew
against the trees, upheaves,
unfastening the leaves
exposing limbs on eaves.
the leaves fell away
as wanting to play.
they ripped their way
through the breezeway.
they been noticed after all
knocking into the wall
then vanish down the hall.
10/5/2020
life knobby knotty
does not run smooth
but tangled in thorns, weeds-
winding twisting curvy-
complication confusion
perplexity on enmity
always to confront
with confidence and courage
accepting life as challenge
not always uneven
all along life does not show
dark charcoal night-
bright full moon also illumines path -
sometimes you can untie knots
though mostly get chained in shackle
yet not to give up
but to rise above
having patience to win
unfastening
unleashing
knobby knotty
life