Best Unhinge Poems
Enroling you a worm (cumbersome and)
hairy, you- scimitar of leaves
Knows the pain ,writhing pupae
Abandoned and convicted
Constricted hanging straightjacket
Squirming like a jackrabbit
Gagged nocturnally - blindfold humility
Rejected by those mocking moths
and jealously believing left the key
Both found our grace on bended knees
..left there dangling from a tree..
Unhinge now those spinakers of glory
Pretty - flaky- flinder
Streaked in splatters paint
Dust of the fairies
Gaze at me with criss-cross eyes
Innocent beauty oh ye butterfly
Spiny antennae, stretching out transmitters
Taking flight so easily
Flitting off with no goodbyes
To a newer afternoon over there
Dashing in the sun
Kneeding and gouging all those zinnias
Joy! Slurping up the nectar
Whisky! Tequila! Brandy and Champagne!
Swops them for a chorus of pansies
Dancing blooming flowers
Crazy blessed colours
Bouncing delight.- erratic in flight
Dodging in between the bees
O enchanted mystic butterfly
Only pausing for a while
Hold me in your spell
For you walked that crooked mile
Linger in this dream
So seldom comes to see
Just as you, my timepiece too
Is coiled in spring
A dustpuff within the wind
Specked all over pollen confetti
Envied now by every moth
Suicidal circle - one kamikaze candle
Seared and singed and slowly fried
Getting what theyre vetted for
But the sun his laughing in his sky
Beseeching all the yet to open flowers
Awake !Awake!
An angel is coming by
You'll find it in the crimson eyes
of a throwaway photo somehow frozen in time.
When the past painted us like demons
with secret fury.
And you'll find it in the smell of a burning memory
like melting microfilm becoming enraged
(gifted with the freedom to deny
first appearances)
You'll find it in the cedar smoke
of Tyndale's earthen cage
roasting in a bale of hay for crimes unknown.
Where the fire of his message burned mighty
through a thousand hungry hearts that day
(where ancient ink once again
took a detour into youthful veins)
You'll find it in the velvet ash
of a (just one more) cigarette
being flippantly flicked into December sky
for reasons unknown.
Where yellowed fingernails bear witness
of freedom to live and freedom to die,
leaving not an inch of space to analyze;
for the fickle flames - much like life -
waits for no one.
You'll find it in the platinum tendrils
of a Colt 45, that so quickly took a life,
in the burning heat of an eternal second.
Where curled fingers and steady stare
makes it painfully aware
freedom is a pitiful beauty, ugly as sin,
and as right as rain
(ask the victims of Hiroshima --- they'll tell the same)
You'll find it in the vermilion sky
blazing brighter than passion pure;
stopping the world gears, of rat-race routine,
and turning a thousand rusty necks Heavenward
Where minds silently unhinge (for a moment)
And fear itself begins to cringe (for a moment)
When faced with childlike wonder
blind eyes will see.
A rejuvenating spark
this freedom can be.
And you'll find it the explosion of ecstasy
like a rose blooming in tenacious time-lapse.
You'll find it in the Cherokee midnight dance,
being warmed by the tongues of freedom personified.
Where Common Sense no longer applies,
for when freedom found his heart's desire,
you know it was a compromise.
Losing his mind, and losing his life,
in the process of a martyrdom
for all things beautiful and all things temporary,
in its earthly essence
... where freedom finds the fire,
you can't tell the difference.
Written March 23rd, 2016
For the Where The Freedom Finds the Fire Contest Hosted by Justin Bordner
Take me to the place where the aromatic fragrance
threatens to envelop our obelisks glorifying death;
to the place where the seraphim of old long to steal your breath
only to resurrect you again,
because they adore your shell-shocked epiphany.
The twinkle of wisteria eyes that say star-struck goodbyes to winters long overdue.
Take me to some place new, yet still lingers with the scent of timeless truths.
Can you whisper epigrams in my ears yet still retain your sunflower youth?
And can such a place even exist ...
where I am me and you are you.
Is this dream of ours only a selfish wish?
Where our heart's desires
will never transpire,
but only take cues from Lazarus,
coming into our own like lilac lust.
I am told there is a beautiful gate
that leads to this tomb of ancient bloom.
Will you let me nourish this timid trust
and receive this skeleton key that dreams of wearing skin -
and if not now, of this would-be genesis ... when?
Please don't tease with someday soon,
but let these tumblers unhinge like zealous zephyr.
I know it will be all that you asked.
I know it will be, for my soul spoke so earnestly: give it a chance.
So won't you carve upon this granite heart
that longs for the easy rain of your embrace.
Etch upon these alabaster walls with love's italic hand,
the seven lettered splendor known unabashedly as FREEDOM.
Let it be the only thing
the angels care to dream,
when imagining eternity.
Let none atone
the only thing
set in stone.
Written February 15th, 2016.
Entered in the contest A Tomb of Ancient Bloom hosted by Justin Bordner.
Chosen Poem of the Day on February 17th, 2016
Placed First
"Changing Faces"
she stole my beau in Italy when we were both quite young,
a flower 'twas waiting to bloom; a love song left unsung,
she weaved her magic spell on him with her soft feminine wiles,
her grand manipulation proved a master of disguise in smiles,
she selfishly thought of herself and crushed my broken heart,
in Italy, we had laughed and cried and suddenly grew apart,
throughout those years I wanted to return for sweet revenge,
because my first love was my life; I wished hers to unhinge,
instead, I wrote a little note, sent with a basket of cheer,
remember KARMA comes around; kiss my petunia, dear.
startled, she picked up the phone to thank me for the gift,
she now was a changed woman, who understood how swift
the hand of Fate; passing of Time, can instill in a heart,
compassion and forgiveness as maturity did start
she offered invitation to visit our old stomping grounds,
burying the hatchet among familiar sights and sounds,
she was an excellent hostess, who cherished me as a friend,
her beautiful persona moved me to make amends,
so once a year we meet in love, enjoying family,
for nothing can replace a true friendship's harmony.
*For Vienna's Let Me Have It .. then Kiss My Petunia eeContest.
Coffin lungs unhinge a chest open bare,
fragile skin ripping thin as bat membrane-
flutter in waves of vapor, from the heart that beats itself,
exhuming an illusive space...
defined by all that never was.
The only promise left unbroken,
held against all petty wills,
is the nothingness that eclipses the tangible-
contoured by chaos, it stands tall and futile,
leaving no shade for the shelter of lost dreams.
And so let the old void fill the new,
where Only Hope's clumsy shadow filters in,
and Fear blows every breath of whim,
Asphyxiating in this open cage,
for too long I chose to stay and wait
for empty promises to take,
and take,
and take.
THE MONSTER YOU DREAD
i can’t handle rejection,
the unhug of perfection.
a piercing scream of perplexion —
my complexion streaked
grouted and piqued.
i backhanded you by
closing the splintered door,
vainglorious to the core —
now you can’t see the open sore.
you never uncovered, never looked,
never came to find me, i’m overlooked.
hiding beneath the bed, i’m the monster
you dread — tear-salted tongue, the martyr
with claws tearing at my skin - my fear
that she sips her coffee carelessly - oh dear...
the suicidal stripes down my cheeks sear
as my mother wanders through her year.
if only a look, a hug, a kind word spoken
to me would tear me from this sea forsaken —
this torrent, harangue of waves, haplessly
dashing, against heart and soul. if only a creak,
a scintilla of light would peek into
my claustrophobic space, saving me from me.
but i, only i...must resolve, unhinge the lock,
step out and see the clearing of the crock...
all alone on my private island - its unsecured dock.
i pretend it never mattered but carry the doom
within my flesh, my invisible childhood looms.
ready at turn to rear its misshapen head, its claws
digging into a buried past — all my flaws...
jealousy pops up in the middle of my joy
i stomp the frenetic beast, clawing its face.
i refuse to be that monster, that disgrace!
6/14/2019
Move me Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
It springs upon you.
Gleaming clawed metaphor
struggle to unhinge.
Many-legged adjectives
commence to crawl over the page
similar to a robotic centipede
but bigger, shinier, brasher.
Then the seductive purr,
the mannered modes, the manicured forms,
the unmistakable reek of poetry.
The first step they say is recognition,
the second step is to find it a home.
The third step is to clean up
after it craps itself.
You know not about fear
when in the spotlight of
your rage
snarled in distorted
ugly
your hatred
twisting
my unguarded spine
stunting small bones
blustering
bluffing
concealing weakness
too plain to miss
as
you pound down
walls
and
hammer
ineffectively on
my resolve
to
leave you
to
your
own
creation
"Resolutions Replay"
All resolutions for twenty thirteen
Always promise to start out peachy keen
dreaming or wide awake
my pet peeve is cheesecake
A wide waistline on bikini screams "mean".
Pineapples, cheeries, strawberries or plain
Calories are the secret to weight gain
trying to deny urge
as fork and cheesecake merge
Choose will power or perhaps go insane.
Only three hundred sixty-four more days
To keep resolution intact from craves
as the replay unhinge
time for a cheesecake binge
Happy New Year rides deep hunger pang waves.
*For Gwendolen's Resolution Limerick in your Pocket.
I had a cat name snowball
she died!
she died!
my mom said she was at the vet
she lied!
she lied!
....
Just Kidding!
Oh no!
Look at this joe
Face on the desk cause he's writing so low
Lifted his head and what did I see:
Oh wah! wah! wah!
Mommy didn't love me!
Saw another girl and her mouth was so cringe
Seem like the pen in her hand wasn't able to unhinge
and I walk passed her and saw some or her words:
life is so lonely
I want to blow some coke
father doesn't know me
people think i'm a joke
Holy ghost and holy spirit!
Why are people so sad?
I thought the guy was A.D.D ing
And the chick was on her rag
I understand that life ain't full of win
But just loathing in it is as bad as a sin!
Cutt-ing yourself
Drink-ing to death
Bin-ging on drugs
So you could feel that "close"
That out of body experience where you leave that "ghost"
Grabb-ing a pen
leave-ing a note
Commit-ing a suicide
If I read more of this depressing stuff I think I will cry!
Listen love
go and feel pain
So your girlfriend dumped you
Then go to the strip club and make it rain!
Uh-oh girl
just lost your job
so now your broke
So go out and shake your ass for some handsome bloke!
I understand if you
get upset
have regret
and want your life to be pushed for reset
but when you go through that you
grow up more
see to explore
find out that you could high again sore!
So write me a love poem with no break up
Write me a story of that one day of endless luck
Give me a riddle where the cow goes mooo
That's right be silly!
Shakespeare doesn't like your emo poems!
I wouldn't too!
ps: hey guys! it's late! and the later it gets the weirder i get!(well it's 3am for me,
idk what time it is for y'all) :D
anywho we all have written our share of emo poems ( i know i have!
heck i still do!) I just couldn't help myself to write this, especially since
my motivation was a shirt i saw that actually said "Shakespeare doesn't
like your emo poems." ( with picture of Will annoyed as heck XD)
...
no not Will Smith :p
I'm a briny whore
wit' reekin' drawers
me honor ter make yer acquenchance
th' skipper's maid
me port's decayed
one doubloon, yer seafarin' urchin?
Yer scurvy rat
a-crawl wit' gnat
orf seadog scourged wit' rabid
yer cannon's immense
'tis cocked 'n tense
yer cutlass be yearnin' me scabbard
Yer stench o' sewer
me bits'll chew yer
bumps 'n boils 'n rottin' flesh
yer britches singe
yer helm unhinge
ter boot yer hornpipe thump 'n thresh
2013-11-20
A pale of spreading green
Fresh from earth’s inner need
Where she keeps her secrets
Talking to all green things
On some winsome April day
Unfurl your new banners
Against the lingering grey
Unhinge the sun, chase the shade
Freshen the sweet air
And let the smiling breezes blow
Soft, supple reaching heavenward
Fingers of green bud, break open
Into canopies cover, hover, Azure shells make spring birds,
and all the leafy creatures that Surround soft supple shades
For the world has turned ‘round again.
(1) Approaching with calculated strike, my psyche your aim; you anticipate my demise.
(2) With kind-hearted souls, vulnerability is oft misjudged. Frailty the frock we wear…?
(3) You presume pure passion and palpable tenderness portray a sappy sweetheart. Rather, love’s
(4) blaze ought infer diversified pleasures, boundless paths to endless expression, and intensity for life
(5) as well as love. The old cliché… and you have assessed poorly, my friend. Thus, your lamentable plight.
(6) For I am warrior, through and through. This blood courses through veins with same magnitude and
(7) ferocity as impassioned lover and will not be wasted on you! So, when you come, come prepared
(8) for every move will be countered, every thrust deflected, all advances refused. Your endeavor to
(9) unhinge me, drive me mad, even insane will lead to your last breath, defeat, undeniable pain.
(10) Great risk for ‘tis no match which can be scored. Exists but one conclusion when one lives by the sword…
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12/8/19
For If you live by the sword then you die by the sword Poetry Contest
By Silent One
(Note: Though it appears not to have met the 10 line maximum requirement, it was 10 on my word document. I've decided to take a chance by submitting it while I consider reconfiguring this already condensed piece. I numbered each line to show where the line breaks occur ~Thank you so much for your patience :)
Now day follows day
Plunges into dust,
Along that old play
Between trust and thrust.
Now just for a while
Accord a kind will,
Unhinge with a smile
That coarseness you feel.
Now if you still best
A weary burden,
Discern and digest
Gall that must return.
Now night covers night
To tally and keep,
Note surreal insight
That caress deep sleep.
Now if wit must fail
To steady a pun,
Learn then to avail
With new jest you pun.
Now beyond this surge
Of grim metaphors,
Look to inner urge
To easy laughter.
Now let humour roll
Out your red carpet,
Transit lofty toll
As madness blankets.
Leon Enriquez
06 December 2014
Singapore
Occasionally I dream.
Black ominous spots in my closed eyes.
Dreams I never remember,
Dreams I don't want to remember.
For when I do I cringe with fear
Sit in a corner of my darkened room,
Trying unsuccessfully to forget.
Fitful recurring dreams,
That leaves the palate dry,
Devoid of savored zest,
Flat as unleavened bread.
Dark shadows in a dark room,
Swirling, gasping, mutely roaring,
Ugly, brusque, dyspeptic, and morose.
It gyrates meaninglessly in the void,
A menacing, unpleasant stench
That eventually dissolves into nothingness.
Dreams orchestrated to confuse,
Meant to gradually unhinge the mind.
So occasionally I dream.
The rest I am awake to face
The terrors of the night.
Note: I wrote this poem in 2003. never posted as far as I know. Sometimes I enjoy dark poems but they are FICTIONAL.