Best Unfeigned Poems


Premium Member I Rather Enjoy Being Played

By different lovers I’ve been kept,
some skillful and a few inept.
I always respond, unafraid.
I rather enjoy being played.

A Spaniard picked me up one time.
His classic strumming was sublime.
Notes poured from me like a cascade.
I rather enjoy being played.

That man released me, and soon I
was picked up by a strange punk guy
who stroked me roughly. Though betrayed,
I rather enjoy being played.

My strings broke often from his touch,
yet thrilled was I by his thrum. Such
unique new tunes from me were made.
I rather enjoy being played.

His sister held me awkwardly,
but then she sang so beautifully
it mattered not my sound would fade. . . 
I rather enjoy being played.

She and her brother gave me to
some plucking fools without a clue
till an artiste came to my aid.
I rather enjoy being played.

He pressed my frets, this handsome boy.
My stings were vibrating with joy.
I climaxed with his smooth glissade.
I rather enjoy being played.

With him I hope to have remained
in years to come. His love’s unfeigned.
Although I know at times he’s strayed,
I rather enjoy being played.

Premium Member In An Old Cathedral

She knelt upon a plank, plain oaken
(sable cloak, her mourning guise),
and sensed the breath of distant sighs,
pale shades of pain behind blue eyes…

While clasping close a cross-like token
(holding hope for those in need)
she prayed her Lord "please intercede,
my woes be washed, my soul be freed"…

Archangels, in the skies evoken
(candles flickered, shadows shivered),
through the panes, the moonlight quivered,
summoned forth, the wish delivered…  

Forgotten words he once had spoken
(dimly echoed ’neath the dome)
swept sweetness of the honeycomb
o'er distant realms they used to roam…

At midnight's knell, in dreams awoken,
memories of love unfeigned…
Though loneliness of grief remained,
she still held hope… hope hadn't waned…

And when the dawn had early broken,
by the font, in peace, she lay…
As sudden as a sunset ray,
the light of life had slipped away…

Purr and Pat - There Is a Brighter Side

Purr came crying one day to Pat,
"I'm black (sniff), and a 'bad luck' cat,
No harm I mean to souls around,
But seeing me, they turn around,
I want to play with them like you,
But shoo me out is all they do,
They say I'm (sniff) evil and black,
No, I ain't ever going back."

Comforting Purr, Pat hugged her tight,
Said, "Everything will be alright,
I tell you black is beautiful -
They know it not - how pitiful!
You're not bad luck, you are a charm,
You're daring, dashing and no harm,
I'm sure you'll win their hearts, my friend,
Ev'n if not, I'm here till the end."

Purr hugged Pat back with love unfeigned,
She knew ~ true friends are colour blind.


01/21/18


Be Original - Be You

the natural glow of unfeigned traits of the imperfect
outshines fake glittering pretence of the so-called perfect


Date: 09/27/2021
Your Best Rhyming Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L MILTON HANKINS

Premium Member Her Generous Gifts

Mother Nature takes care of her kin;
plants, animals, this ancient sylvan;
with gentle compassionate caress,
and old Sol’s help bestows fluoresce.

Tree leaves sway in the suttle breeze,
knowing their dance will Mother please.
Lovely doves to her warmth will flock,
 to florals adorning Mother’s pastel locks.

She gives solace and loving care,
seeing all have enough to share.
Such a benign and devoted spirit,
should be admired for her merits.

Benevolent and unfeigned host,
to you I raise a glass in toast.

Premium Member Paint a Life

Pray tell, to whom do I owe this life of mine?
Mother—always an Angel divine,
Wife—for four decades, a Saint,
Daughters—love unfeigned.
Life’s Good, so
Paint
with a glow
Foregoing restraint
Splash your years—without constraint
Be happy—make laughter a lifeline
Pray tell, to whom do I owe this life of mine?

November 22, 2018


Premium Member Unconditional Surrender To Love

Liquescent sunset fades away, 
From the calm ocean horizon; 
Slow ease, moving, 
Mingling hues of scarlet, 
Coral mood of twilight. 

Immerse in the serene ocean music, 
Waves begin to creep within reach; 
Graceful pull, backs away, 
To its labyrinth fathoms depth. 

The air, I inhale deep, 
Lost in briny cool breeze. 
My passionate heartbeat 
Consumes in its quintessence 
Of the unfeigned world, 
My simple lullaby. 

Seagulls sailing by 
Settling down for the night. 

Alone, just my beloved and me, 
Sit on a blanket, spread out 
Over the grain of sand, nuzzling close. 
A picnic, under the nascent twilight heaven. 

Candles flicker blue-red flames, 
Stimulating sparks, from the gentle stroke
Rolling off the ocean breeze. 

A basket of fresh fruits, aged cheese,
Two crystal glasses 
Filled with champagne as love beckons. 
A fleeting glance into colorfulness night; 
For our ardent passion flowers 
Our unconditional surrender.



3/30/2020
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member An Aromatic Love

 Love is always a majestic,
              long-suffering
                  beauty of destiny.    
          The humble daisy breathes
                in undying devotion.                                                                                                         
        The colorful chrysanthemum
              endures tempting fate.
         In the teary angle's
          embrace nestles unswerving
                   rapture.                                                                                   
        The sunny violet entombs
           a merciless  vanity.                                                                                                                                             
            The moonlight of a soulful heart                                                                                             
            seeks shelter from ongoing
            despair .
           The dark side of sunlight gleams
          in mountainous seas.
           The agonized sky never
           hides its eagerness to still
            a flaming ire.    
             Its bloody tears always etched
            on the unrelenting hyacinth,     
             its verdant smile always forgives the
   ,          accidental failures of life.
              Its fragrance frequently waters the 
                unfeigned red carnation.  
               Love's angelic song is worthy,
              when it does not care about
                delicate, temporary lily .
             Black daybreak never touches it,
              it is a past history..

Premium Member LABYRINTH

A grieved pace in a meadow
Haunting last whilst a breeze flows,
Drenched in dried, feverish sweat
Etched on furrowed memories.
A labyrinthine weak heart
Escorted out in the dawn
Alone in an unfeigned world.
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member With Fingers Crossed

In love, too callow too young, broken apart by life’s torn and tortured terrain. Hearts beat in unison, will they be together again, fingers crossed—Poet


With fingers crossed,
confessions contorted seep lovely lies
spun timidity of untruth, vapid daunting denials
tussles tossed into love’s requited ring,
an aching hollowness when tender love leaves, 
one will feel its brutal sting
Bestial bees swarm sweet honeycomb,
creatures lost in their pollinated pull of habitual humility 
Ere serendipitous magic surrenders sparks
bated breath abides  a quiet ache,
as shadows descend the psyche predicts, 
a hallowed death, silence bends
With both, fingers crossed and with bated breath,
gestures still swollen in mouths of babes profuse
thus far never dies, only forgetful subterfuge
silenced sentimental souls, one departs
the other collapses, awaits with anticipation
against a waning world with holes in hearts
Echoes of past linger, an anxious expectation
a sacred secret within its power, an empirical upshot
pushed and pulled, swayed from an earlier them
The pull wins every time, more than ever they give in
telling of a palm reader
time p a s t
              times f u t u r e
 summoning, so be it’s
the time 
              i n b e t w e e n
a still point 
              of an apex u n s e e n
is the flame still there or
an illusion playing over time again
They say one must be thinking of the other
if a magical moment recurring 
sweeps a promising prism, the scent of their skin,
a moments cabaret, never-end, ceases life sojourn
That our travels shall come full circle
two ships amongst fleets of stars
hearts the same find their way once more,
never swimming to another’s shore
destiny’s doom or divine decree,       
embraced with open arms should be
what was the purest of love’s charms
Both wished upon the same star 
unfeigned heads held high
they set each other apart
beckoning back from start
spirits unwavering in resolve
on this long night of dimming hope,
venture towards aurora dawning bright
warm and welcoming~
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Coat of Arms

COAT OF ARMS


Last night I couldn't sleep,for thinking only you...
As I wrapped in warm embrace, your spirit tinted blue
To oust away thine pangs, in hopes to see thee smile...
I'll yoke ye 'pon my shoulders, to carry through this mile

To trade your tears of sorrow, and see them shed in joy...
I'd jest for thine amusement, and be your favorite toy
For thine malady been expelled, I'd invoke it banished 'way...
Taking it 'pon mine self, so you've strength to seize th' day

Though I'm not an king, nor prince 'pon ivory steed...
Th' possessions I've procured here, are thine if felt th' need
I'll sweep thee off thy feet, if not familiar with th' waltz...
To breathe ye 'cross th' ballroom, as an feather floating 'loft

Mark mine words I state here, and hold me to their true...
I'll prove I 'steem thee precious, as unfeigned I surely do
Just promise me one thing, that next time when your down...
You'll wear these words as armor, 'til I mend thy broken crown

?Randall ('~A~')zaza Martin

a.k.a. "Thunderwolf'69" ??????

The Golden Lady

She walks with dignity, with an air of integrity and confidence in her stride;

A promoter of truth with the Holy Spirit as her guide.

She holds the scales of Justice through the flood and through the fire.

She is the golden lady within whom wisdom does abide.

The Beauty of Life surrounds her and makes her all aglow.
 
She brightens up the darkest places with the light of God's Son-shine that many
 will never know.

Patience is sometimes tested, but loyalty holds the reins-

With Divine Love as mediator, her word goes forth unfeigned.

Her feet are shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace-

With blessings of  Joy, prosperity, Faith, and Love as signs of her increase.

Humbleness and modesty of Spirit and sincerity of mind

Will always linger after her in the heart of those she meet throughout the end of     
 time-

For she is the golden lady, a symbol of Light and Love Divine.

Go Forth

Go forth, you man of a hellish breed.
Go forth, you man of yellow hair and skin of orange hue.
Go forth, with your wickedness a brew.

Go forth, and dwell in your white sanctuary.
Go forth, with your perilous games of foreign adultery.
Go forth, and immerse yourself in an ocean of self-indulgence,
ignorance, and immorality.

Go forth, with your lust for wealth and power.
Go forth, for greed is a grievous evil under the sun.
Go forth, with your wonted behavior of wickedness,
for your time grow closer to the hour.

Go forth, you man of a low degree.
Go forth, with your oppressive grip on the throats 
of the sick and the poor with your vile decree.

Go forth, for evil has devoured your soul.
Go forth, with your heavy ruthless foot on the backs
of human civil rights.
Go forth, for your heart is as black as coal.


And we shall..
Go forth, like a great cloud of tenacity
under the brilliance of God's glorious sun.


And we shall..
Go forth, under the blanket of the starry night
feverishly protesting until our mission is done.

And we shall..
Go forth, fearless and in a diverse unity, with our hearts
heated and our minds brilliant.

And we shall..
Go forth, united and unfeigned in rendering our cause in concordant.

And we shall..
Go forth, with a legal and political vise against
you and your minion's mandates of inequality.

And we shall..
Go forth, with our fight for equality of all humanity.




copyright 2017 Looking At The Light From The Bottom Of The Lake.

Jerusalem

The holy city prized for ancient fame
With silent walls she wails in agony
For centuries ungodly conflicts reign
Her priests and prophets mourn captivity

Unqueened, for her ravished sanctuary
Political pawn is what she became
Religious and unfeigned hypocrisy
Heads bow in shame for peace is just a name

Her greatest prize in heart became fine gold
A temple filled with tithe-less thieves that thrive
Bequeathed birthright unto strangers sold
Laid desolate, deflowered and deprived

Thy dwellings of delight are destitute
Beggars of foul bread find most ill repute
The heritage they trade as prostitutes
Depravity reaps a most bitter fruit

As massive towers shadow in thy streets
Fools gather by thy royal portico
And void of wisdom did the master meet
In blindness as Siloam's waters flow

While empires rose and fell upon thy feet
Which fought in vain a rebel struck the goad
The day had come when thy true monarch meet
Sweat, blood and tears flowed from thy olive grove

And until then thy holy place lay bare
That hollow hearts may find his presence there

Premium Member Short Version-I Rather Enjoy Being Played

By different lovers I’ve been kept,
some skillful and a few inept.
I always respond, unafraid.
I rather enjoy being played.

A Spaniard picked me up one time.
His classic strumming was sublime.
Notes poured from me like a cascade.
I rather enjoy being played.

That man released me, and soon I
was picked up by a strange punk guy
who stroked me roughly. Though betrayed,
I rather enjoy being played.

My strings broke often from his touch,
yet thrilled was I by his thrum. Such
unique new tunes from me were made.
I rather enjoy being played.

He gave me over to a  boy
who makes my strings vibrate with joy
I climax with each smooth glissade.
I rather enjoy being played.

With him I hope to have remained
in years to come. His love’s unfeigned.
Although I know at times he’s strayed,
I rather enjoy being played.

By Andrea Dietrich
For nette onclaud's "Sound Madness Poetry Contest"
This is personification of my favorite instrument, the Sexy Guitar!

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace