Best Unlined Poems
(This a new Version created using many editing suggestions from Linda:)
I picked you up
like a “shiny” newly minted copper penny
it was your kitten fur voice
O how you would hate that...
the avocado texture of it
with which
no matter what wild wicked hour I would call you
you would answer
You shimmered like sunlight
on the forest floor of my needles of neediness
glinted off the shiny chrome and twilight blinders of my
“made to order” searcher’s soul
You were the perfect portent
with your torrents of torment
to wash clean my jet and emerald caves
Or was it you who found me?
a white gem
silent, hidden behind my poetry
sitting in a seat in that Inn
listening to the hues of blues
stenciling the deep red shards of my heart
onto the unlined pages
of a blank black journal
I wore cool light blue and soft sheet cotton
like a cloud-kissed sky
I was light as air and as deep as “a thousand leagues under the sea”
You became my heroic touchstone,
my one true thing sapphire-sparked rock of glory
I hung you around my neck
oxen yoked myself with the weight of you
I hung myself
faithfully -to “my cross to bear”
your endless denial of our love.
You were lithe…thin as a straw… tall as a poplar
white as ash and grey as coal
except for the orange hot fire in the center ring
....of your cigarette
I mistook it for the flames of our unearthly love
It was just the firmament of your eternal coolness reflecting back
the stars of my own piercing need
Yoked by my own wanton weave … I drove on blindly
mind spider webbed
the ghost of your emotion-less carcass draped around my neck
“Leave no man behind”
I know you laughed and told them
that it was just a fire pit left in a cave
by the Queens of the Stone Age -Some loud, angry band you loved
Less real to you
by far more ethereal and ever lost in time to me
than the new found “writing on the wall”
Categories:
unlined, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
I am mesmerized
by ever-changing wisps
of clouds
meandering across
cobalt-blue
Hawaiian skies.
I am mesmerized
by whitecaps dashing
against coral breakers
phizzing out in the sand.
I am mesmerized
by colorful phrases
strolling across white
unlined pages.
written September 11, 2021
Categories:
unlined, allusion, beach, how i
Form:
Free verse
It was in another time, another place
Back then he brought me red, red roses
Now my forever memory is of his face
Scent of that bouquet time will not erase
Now pressed between the pages of a book
It was in another time, another place
In my soul I keep a deeply hidden space
For him, the one who first stole my heart
Now my forever memory is of his face
Our past and present often interlace
What happened then reflected now and then
It was in another time, another place
If wishes had wings I’d be in his embrace
His breath warm against my unlined cheek
Now my forever memory is of his face
He gave me roses on the special day
With promises the young are apt to make
It was in another time, another place
Now my forever memory is of his face.
Categories:
unlined, age, lost love,
Form:
Villanelle
I still write my poems
On unlined sheets of paper
Using fountain pen
© 2011 Kevin Stock
Categories:
unlined, art
Form:
Haiku
I picked you up like a “shiny”…newly minted copper penny
(How cliché)
it was your kitten fur voice (O how you would hate that)
the avocado texture
with which …no matter what wild wicked hour I would call you...
you would answer
You shimmered like sunlight on the forest floor of my needles of neediness
glinted off the shiny chrome and twilight blinders of my made to order
searing searcher’s soul
You were the perfect portent…with your torrents of torment
to wash clean my jet and emerald caves
Or was it you who found me?
White gem silent…hidden behind my poetry in a seat in that Inn
I was listening to the hues of blues
stenciling the deep red shards of my heart on the unlined pages
of a blank black journal
I wore cool light blue and soft sheet cotton…like a cloud kissed sky
I was... light as air and deep as the sea
You became my heroic touchstone…my one true thing sapphire sparked rock of glory
I hung you around my neck
I yoked myself with the weight of you
I hung myself…faithfully to my “cross to bear” -your endless denial of our love
You were lithe…thin as a straw…tall as a poplar...white as ash and grey as coal except for the orange hot fire in the center ring
…of your cigarette
I mistook it for the flames of our unearthly love
In truth...it was just the firmament of your eternal coolness reflecting back the stars
of my own piercing need
so yoked by my own wanton weave …I drove on blindly
the ghost of your emotionless carcass still draped around my neck
“Leave no man behind”
I know you laughed and told them
that it was just a fire pit left in the cave
by the Queens of the Stone Age
(Some loud angry band you loved)
less real (to you)
but far more ethereal bubble dreamy and ever lost in time (to me)
than the newly discovered “writing on the wall”
*POP*
Categories:
unlined, lost love, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
For five days now, it has sat
Black and gray, reflecting heat
Actually, a very nice Jeep
With expired tags, rumpled bookbags
Yet nobody has moved it from my house
For five days now
As I surmise, with my poet's eyes
Journeys of flattened grass, of dusty glass
A map discarded, a gypsy started
A young soul seeking adventure's answers
To grow into futures of unlined space
Or older hearts, chasing the chase
The remembered rush of chances to take
As a new wind erases
The years from their faces
Perhaps a journal, sketching a desert dawn
Or moon rippled seas, or fragrant rain
Calling them forward to green spun lanes
Oh, there could be hours to ride
Mountains to taste, moments to cry
(Dear Muse, have you been so obscure
that I needed a sign - the size of a Jeep
blocking my front door?)
Now I, shaken at last from lethargy
To pick up my pen, should perhaps thank them~
Before I have their car towed.
6/29/22
(true story)
Categories:
unlined, adventure, journey, symbolism,
Form:
Rhyme
ONCE IN A BLUE MOON'S VENTURE
I UNDERTOOK A JOURNEY TO SEEK THAT WHICH I TREASURE
THERE HE WAS AND I WOULDN'T LET MY HEART PONDER
FILLED WITH CRYSTALLINE DELIGHT, MY HEART STARTED TO FLATTER
HIS FACE RECTANGULAR YET SCULPTED, UNLINED AND DELICATE
HIS EYES BROWN YET VIVID AND PALE LIKE A LASER BEAM
HIS SMILE RADIANT AND GENUINE MAKING HIS FACE SPARKLE
HIS BODY ATHLETIC AND REFINED LIKE GOTHIC ART
HE FIXED HIS EYES ON ME RELENTLESSY LIKE A TARANTULA
STARRING AT ME WITH A LURING GAZE
A THOUSAND DIFFERENT SENSATIONS CAME
WAS IT BECAUSE OF THE BREEZE OF THE SERENE NIGHT OR THE TEQUILA?
"I AM...", HE SAID IN A SOFT SLOW VOICE SO ALLURING
THE SOOTHING SOUND OF HIS VOICE SO MELODIOUS AND ENCHANTING
HE DREW CLOSE TO ME CAREFULLY REACHING FOR MY HAND
IN THAT MOMENT OUR HEARTS BLEND
BUT WHY IS THERE A CACOPHONY IN MY HEAD?
AND A PITCHER OF ICE WATER ON MY BED?
ITS MAMA WAKING ME UP, I COULD HEAR IT WITH THE SCREAM
THEN I REALIZED, IT WAS JUST A DREAM
Categories:
unlined, dream,
Form:
Blank verse
For diverse ranged interests, in prose and paint, speech annoted by body, frisbee
aflight or as busking bowl.
Writing poetry, sitting or standing, thought on title, concept craving to be told,
calligraphy ink to unlined leaf.
and art- always. Lines interlace, texturising a touch of plain or molten formscapes,
storylike images arrange.
Documentaries that ask questions of the public passing, asking arrays of ideals of
environment plus humanity.
Enter a range of such work, eventual experimental audio- 3cds of, words and
whatnot wrangling for groove.
Proposing and applying projects- solo and with teams, arty, musical, mentally
stimulating, and free camping.
Long term future enquiery, the plan to transition from capitalism into charity as our
operating infrastructure.
Laden with hundreds of original unconventional Poetry Scripts and Video
Performances, unseen Visual Art, experimental Audio Art, MASSdebating
Documentaries, Charity Project ideas and completed mission pix.
ChristoWarner dot com is the title of this fairly unassuming prose, it is surely poetry
with a message- which is to experience titles including: Mars Is My Neighbour,
Jumping Goat Fish, Sway Away Star Tree, Dehydrated Orange Flakes, Perfectly
Plausable, Why They Sold N.A.S.A., Oil And Salt, Gumby, Last Of Its Kind, and a great
many more. ChristoWarner.com
Categories:
unlined, fantasy, introspection, parody, political,
Form:
Light Verse
It’s pure as fresh snow
and as pale as a ghost.
It’s the shade on the light spectrum
that I loathe the most.
A beluga whale, the milky moon
and the aftermath of bleach
and all my body’s hidden places
just out of the sun’s reach.
It lies on unlined paper
and rests on decaying bones.
On a virginal wedding dress
in the trash, it should be thrown.
A fluffy marshmallow,
billowy clouds and certain rice
just add them to the growing list
of the hue that fails to entice.
I can’t stress this sentiment enough
this tint is truly beastly.
On baby powder, salt, and mayo,
the color white is not for me.
*I wrote this poem on April 6, 2021, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ challenge. This was day 6 and the prompt was: Write a poem inspired by a color. It’s pretty obvious what color I choose from reading my poem, but if you are still stumped after you finish, reread the last line. Thanks, and as always, leave me some love.
Categories:
unlined, color, funny, hate, how
Form:
Rhyme
Gods Country
Gods country as a whole
Is a whole country united
A whole continent un-subdivided
Without senseless violence
In any shape or form.
Unlined
with barbed wire strung tight
Spanning the Pacific to the Atlantic.
Simultaneously
all of it, and none of it
private.
Categories:
unlined, earth, how i feel,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Out of the bowels of Harrisburg
Comes a new woman on the scene
She's head of environmental pollution
She's known as the Harbor Sludge Queen
She's in charge of polluting our county
And putting the environment in a rut
While her boss, the infamous Mr. Ed
Has his nose buried in athlete's butt
It doesn't do any good to scream and holler
And our right to choose is naught
Please publish her picture in the newspaper
So we can see what corporate America just bought
We were told the sludge is beneficial
But no matter what you call it
The only place it's beneficial
Is to our politician's wallet
When your child asks you
Daddy, why is the grass so green
Tell him it won't be green for long
Thanks to the Harbor Sludge Queen
Their long range plan is simple
Pollute the mountains and all in between
Then buy the properties for nothing
Courtesy of the Harbor Sludge Queen.
Dedicated to the Department of Environmental Protection Who is allowing the
dumping of fly ash mixed with dredging from the New York Harbors to be
dumped in the unlined mine pits in our area. They are already responsible for the
death of Troy Behun, an 11 year old child and Daniel Pennock a 17 year old.
They've already spent the almost unlimited super fund money in Pennsylvania.
As with most government agencies, total incompetence and gross negligence
prevails.
Categories:
unlined, social, child,
Form:
Rhyme
Piano keys –
waiting for my fingers,
they dream of a Bach fugue.
Sheet music –
notes build cathedrals of sound
that wait in patient silence.
My daughter’s horse –
strong willed spirited mare
who taught her so much.
Print in books –
the miracle of adventure
between the pages.
Equations on blackboards –
elegant integrals
to describe truth.
Old photographs –
time machines that carry us
to eternal youth.
My poetry notebook –
pointy pencil on smooth unlined paper,
singing my soul’s song.
2/16/2017
For contest: The colors black and white
Sponsored by Laura Loo
Categories:
unlined, life,
Form:
Free verse
The summer sun was once my friend;
I basked beneath its glow,
But friendships often fade and this
Was one that had to go.
The younger me enjoyed a tan
On smooth and unlined skin,
But lately that is not the shape
My sagging self is in.
And danger lurks when sunshine
Causes cancer cells to bloom
So by soaking up some rays
I might be guaranteeing doom.
There was a time Apollo
Earned my every accolade,
Yet today I turn my back on him
And settle for the shade.
Categories:
unlined, sun,
Form:
Rhyme
My revolutionary heart smiled at its private joke:
“The poor can’t eat the rich because they’d gag and they’d choke
On toxins like guilt, cynism and greed,
Prozac and Botox – not quite what the poor need.”
But, the above-mentioned attitudes, I hear you demur,
Are found just as commonly amongst the poor.
Yes, I retort, it’s just as you say –
But they have better reasons to feel that way.
For those with soft beds, their futures assured,
Their needs taken care of, their investments secured,
No wolves near their doors, their faces unlined -
Surely these ones can simply afford to be kind?
For the poor each gesture has a real cost –
A loaf of bread given may mean a meal lost,
But the rich can donatecratefuls, it takes no nerve,
It is only a snack, a missed hors’d’oevre!
Categories:
unlined, introspection, passion, social,
Form:
Classicism
"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you"....A Rambling Poet
The youthful beauty of an unlined face,
Unsullied by the use that lies ahead
Has still the freshness of an unturned page.
A book to show its worth must have been read.
True fairness comes when beauty dwells within,
No need to fear effect of time’s swift pace.
Though chance of fate can its bright radiance dim
And leave sad mark on that beloved face.
Beauty untried is beauty quite unearned;
Fair to behold with worthiness unproved.
The cherished face with lines of living burned
Will to true lover surely be more loved.
The beauty not reflected in the glass
Remains when more apparent charms doth pass..
By: Joyce Johnson
lFor Constance , A Rambling Poet's contest "Writing In The Sublime"
Won a 7th place
Categories:
unlined, introspectionbeauty, beauty,
Form:
Sonnet