Best Ungiven Poems
What is hidden behind the end? is the end a beginning?
The beginning without the selfishness that kills?
The end of the words I didn't say, and the forgiveness I didn't ask?
will it be the same without you?
An ungiven space, an unextended hand, an unaccepted apology and an end that has no end.
if tomorrow was yesterday, I would have left our selfishness aside.
I would have taken forgiveness from the rocks of the soul,
and I would drown in the sea of your thoughts.
and when the waves touched your feet, I would touch your hand,
in the still night, where only the two of us were sailing,
untrodden shores of bliss,
where the bare steps caressed the sand and souls,
waiting for the letter I didn't write,
and that time will bring it to you,
like a waxed message inside a bottle.
If you're wondering why I haven't made a step
Here I am giving you my answers
Hopeful I would reach you far
Anxious - if my words would be enough
I'm sorry for the late night arguments
I wish we didn't slept through it
I'm sorry for not paying attention
To the little things you did
I'm sorry for all the tears your eyes shed
I should've had just hugged you tight
I'm sorry for pushing you away
When all you ever wanted was just my hand
I'm sorry for making you wait and worried
For being in a mood of hating you deep
I'm sorry for all the ungiven kisses
I have given to the unknown happiness
To all the quarrels we had to go through
To all the cruel games we had played
To all the messages and calls we had ignored
I'm sorry for not understanding them right
And to my most painful memory, the fool was I
When the lights were off and when the curtains were down,
You gave me choices of impossible; if you turn around
I made it all possible - for opening the door
O Lord, giver of LIFE and GIFTS to me,
When I finish my course and come to die,
Let there be no buried or concealed TALENTS*
May any GIFTEDNESS be yielded to your service
Let there be no TREASURES in me left unutilized;
Let there be no GIFTS from you in me yet ungiven;
Let there be no CHECKS of stated amounts yet uncashed;
And let there be no CASH left un invested nor yet unspent for you.
021621FBPSCtest, Open Poetry 2, Charlotte Puddifoot
*Matthew 25:14-30
What is,is not often what was. For what once was,a mere childhood saying. Step upon a crack,and break your mothers back. Is not the a same crack,of todays childhood. What once were,playful words of childhood. Now lead to a world,of painful addiction. For stepping upon,the crack of today. Means dividing that drug,to spread it even farther. Dreams of childhood,so often they change. But change is painful,when it becomes a nightmare. Words are strange,like falling through the cracks. Means being lost,inbetween the lines. Cocaine has lines,and crack is crack cocaine. It's also called rock,and "The Rock" was a prison. And "The Rock" was a prison,of impossible escape. And so too is the drug,an inescapable sentence. Crack is not,a drug of mere escape. First time out,it hooks your soul forever. And as it steals your life,it also steals from others. Who you once were,to family, friends and lovers. Trust is a word,that is no longer given. For to buy your crack,you'll take what's ungiven. Acceptance soon turns,into doors that are locked. And pain in the hearts, of those who once cared.
INEXPLICABLE
Wondering through the scenes of earth
Only sexagenarians will tell there is nothing to fetch
Rummage on, then and now
Astonished we are so we take a bow
So many questions with answers ungiven
Yet deliver testimonies to look uncraven
Why stay young when time is old
Our unique success is that of being bold
And to those that claim of knowledge precise
Still inevitable they find earth’s greatest price
Rumination remains always capable
But we cannot cheat the realm, forever inexplicable!
A safe lie to make,
outweighed T-Bone stake.
A fassad way to fake,
not for Heavens but your sake.
Concrete ankle drowned bottom lake,
no more time to never awake.
Live nightmared body shake,
blind eyes glossed opaque.
Ice cream flavored frozen cake,
ungiven life chose to take.
Now you gotta live with that mistake,
if I die before I wake...
Ageless sky looks down
With wisdom ungiven
How many have walked where I have been
Whose eyes have brightened at discoveries I thought were made anew
Silver stars that watched, so too
Will see me pass through
Lock out straight mad Doctrine based on
reality disappear long long ago, so
be it to seeth Actions in beast not altered
magazines strewn about fault of incompetence
driven gloom in overcast, drawn out
multitudes terrorized by norm elsewhere they
terrorized by multitudes. But puppet
skip ‘long line in tune with some Sense of Truth
ungiven when to be Governed is to Accept Untruth,
scatter about world witness to this play
acted out with tremendous effort towards end, Peace,
be Vulgar manage yet overall Gods of Scriptures ruin
Earth. Injury to Foe Enemy Sound Judgment and
Reason relative to the individual based on prudence.
Dreamt shattered plastic last night, still recollect
many wish forget; But this stays with: In Freedom
under is SLAVERY absolute; Mass stay indifferent.
I went for a walk...
took a moment,
saw the neighbors' grass -
not a dandalion to be found,
bushes clipped just "so",
trees bordered with wood chips,
flower beds,
sidewalks edged,
but no ones ever home...
Saw some birds -
the endless hunting
for scraps
pecking away -
hopping about,
searching
gathering
for nests already empty...
I walked over by the park -
as well,
the open swings swaying in the breeze -
weeds showing where feet
were meant to be,
sliding boards - silently awaiting giggles
seesaws - teetering on extinction
no time for being children anymore...
I sat on a bench -
opened my zippered binder
lifted my pen
and my mind wandered a bit
enjoying the sun -
the heat
the scents
the silence - a lot of silence
a lot of aloneness - there,
everywhere...
All the roses - not being smelled,
ungiven smiles,
sunshine missed,
empty eyes returning at dusk
as the days pass by -
mindless chatter of TVs
hiding ourselves
filling the nights,
pre-planned portions to the plates
to the ears
to the minds -
and the hearts crying so hard
to be heard, noticed, touched
in sad-sour dreams -
and with the dawn
it begins again
the endless cycle
of being lost - and missing
life.
Only those who have not yet met truly love each other,
Those who, in the early morning horizon, imagine themselves as kings and queens without sin,
They dream in the secretive color of amethyst, hidden somewhere deep,
Where the heart, intoxicated by the unseen moon, weaves its untouched desires.
They are like two parallel universes, close but never destined to meet,
In their cosmic dance, traversing unexplored, unembraced circles of stars,
They look at one another, through a veil of comets, with hope in their eyes,
Flashes of potential, of pure love, in the night where silence and mystery intertwine.
Hands reach out towards the moon, the cutter of nights, grasping only dreams and echoes,
In a phantom embrace, through which the celestial breeze passes, cold yet somehow hot,
The longing for a kiss ungiven, under the fluttering eyelid of time that pulsates and waits,
And unformed promises rise like smoke, dreaming of shapes, of completed contours.
In this labyrinth of the unknown, where footsteps resonate like an ancient song,
Lies the sweet elixir of mystery, sweetening every imagination,
Thus, in the space between certain and possible, floats the scent of an unnamed love,
As two souls seek each other among the stars and find each other in the unwavering moonbeams.
They are like two butterfly wings haunting the gardens of evening in a seraphic hue,
Touching only in the breath of wind vibrating with scents of jasmine and lavender,
The purity of an unknown feeling follows its path in evanescent bites,
And in the mystery that envelops them, the love born of the unknown seems eternal and holy.
Therefore, true love ascends in universes waiting to be discovered,
On unwritten book pages, in soundless melodies, it opens the way to infinite life,
For the sake of imagining what could be, they remain truly in their shared longing,
For in the unclear vision of beginnings, the incomprehensible possibilities of pure and undimming love are hidden.
Her words are silenced
Her face has been earsed
Distance is something that empowered her
She dears to be heard, seen, held close
But she has been zipped in unseen blackness
That they dont care to help
Just sit and laugh
Laugh at how she pins her hair short
Wraps her body in dull colors
That they cant seem to adore
She trys to yell out and be heard to show the real her
But they just put her on mute
And begins to ignore
She sees the hurt in their laughter and understand the beauty in hers
But they don't seem to understand in written picthers that she has
They break her soul with sharp knives
That later wont be patched
Her belly is unsteeched with dull needles
That screams for sudden help
But is typed to Presdent Nobody
That writes return to sender unwanted help is not given
Her pain cries for ungiven happiness
That is sold to the only person she believes that listens but wishes it isn't the person that lies bentheh us
That we dear not to share our souls to
Her voice, soul, innocence, are taken by a darken devil
And she allows it because of them
i saw them on the streets in downtown
portland the other day they each wore
pieces of someone elses expressions.
some of them were tall like the clouds
seem in the morning when you first look up.
others looked different maybe more like
me or less like you. some wore mirrors over
their eyes, and when they spoke it sometimes
sounded like yagasaki moriah todoi.
the words would bounce off of the pavement
like scattered scrabble pieces. i would pick up
one then another as i turned my head.
i became very proficient at wandering and
collecting all things ungiven out of the corners
of my eyes. third person twice removed we
all watched each other.
We are new colonists and we embrace
A hostile and unforgiving land. Lay
Claim to clay covered gold by grace
And the callous palms of tired hands,
But the weary lesson lidded, did not
Stay night's strife and eyes' sands.
We poor Don Quixotes have no Camelot.
\We left Paradise, the fruit still sweet
Like a piper's note upon our giddy eyes,
And edged our sugar hungry teeth
On gaudy claims the harsh day denies
Reversing us who came our fortunes to reverse
On windmills and the roulette of dreams
We had the upside down of the Midas curse.
Poor Samsons, we, in the litter of our schemes.
\I see land beyond forty acres ungiven
But I see no mules except for us
Who for fabled EL Dorado has striven
Conquistadores mired in the plight of dust
Our feathers are pluckt by the Atlantic storm
And I, here serches the spectra of Job
Amidst this new thing without border or norm
That consumes us like locust on a withering globe.
An ungiven gift
Success…a gift given to few
A pride known for some
A word that makes the world
How can I get there?
How can it be? A wall for what is right or wrong
A land to be traveled by she…
When you get there it’s hard to remember pain
It’s right to smile and say I want to gain
But when you fall
You don’t know what to do
You don’t know what to say
You don’t know what’s been wrong
You just cry and hate the world
You just curse and scream
You just don’t know why?
You’ve studied and lay down a sweat of tire
So how come?
How come you fell?
The Eyes Have It
Eyes sharpened at the whetstone
Honed to a glistening edge,
They used them to slice and dice for
Homeworks forgotten;
Rooms left in cyclonic disarray;
Reports unfiled;
Presents left ungiven;
Promises unkept---
Scythe-like orbs slipped into you
And poured you into the ground an
Unripened watermelon pulp
oozing red and pits.
They said that eyes had not
A rapier wit, nor rending ability
Though you learned they did,
As life essence formed a puddle
Like water broken before birth.