Best Unmolested Poems
"What's your story?"
she questions,
"you seem interesting."
wildflower
in eyes
I reply, "NOW."
often people become confused
by such a unique response
not this one
she's a beauty
shiny minded stone
lives warm under veins
lacks definition of alone
alone she stands
tallest green blade
unscathed
each time the oily blade passes above
erect
she stays the same
tingling pulses exhale her pores
she'd rather sink
than have to think the way of worldly whores
still...
malice skips her
no ripples in the lake
dripping from her face
sunshine slips across tangerine cheeks
gold flows throughout waves
streaming locks
sky clear eyes surprise those
choosing to be consumed
by her entice
hands free of envy
no webs to spin
hips unmolested
thighs slick
turpentine
be warned
she will divide you
no voodoo
or silly twisted games
though safe may escape you
blemish-less
untangled...
the girl
she
Goddess
baby of zero maybes
KNOWS
how?
she knows
as clarity lent us its giant umbrella
her lipstick smacked my tongue
from there
we never looked back
Categories:
unmolested, friendship, girlfriend-boyfriend, happiness, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Untrampled Sand
Idyllic shorelines tucked away,
Are island protected in a tropical bay;
Below pastel skies polished by clouds,
Reveal a Shangri-La bathed in gold.
Untrampled sands, white and tanned,
Are cooled by waves and wind fanned.
Where exotic vegetation creeps unmolested,
Claiming squatter rights of fertile deposits.
Mollusk seashells litter the beach,
Within the cove’s curvature outreach.
Where hermit crabs upgrade shells,
And birds sing throughout the hills.
Un paraíso tropical de mi corazón.
En sueños con la mujer que amo.
Gracias por la memoria
Ese viento llena mi lienzo.
Mientras navego por los océanos.
A tropical paradise of my heart,
In dreams with the woman I love.
I thank you for the memory
That wind fills my canvas
As I sail the oceans.
Categories:
unmolested, beach, destiny, feelings, love,
Form:
Free verse
"What's your story?"
she questions,
"you seem interesting."
wildflower eyes
~SIDE-NOTE:
I reply, "NOW." (Kwan$aba! Ha! Really,
often people become confused
by such a unique response
not this one...
she's a beauty
shiny minded stone
lives warm under veins
lacks definition of alone
tho solo she stands
tallest green blade
unscathed
each time the oily blade passes above
erect
she stays the same
tingling pulses exhale her pores
she'd rather sink
than have to think the way of worldly whores
still...
malice skips her
no ripples in the lake
dripping from her face
sunshine slips across tangerine cheeks
gold flows throughout waves
streaming locks
sky clear eyes surprise those
choosing to be consumed
by her entice
hands free of envy
no webs to spin
hips unmolested
thighs slick
turpentine
be warned
she will divide you
no voodoo
or silly twisted games
though safe may escape you
blemish-less
untangled...
the girl
she
Goddess
baby of zero maybes
KNOWS....
how?
she knows
as clarity lent us its giant umbrella
her lipstick smacked my tongue
from there
we never looked back
~JSLaM
Categories:
unmolested, anniversary, art, business, confusion,
Form:
Kwansaba
Independence ... To. be cherished and protected
Interdependence ... Live and let others live unmolested
Dependence ... On the God in whom we trust.
God bless the U.S
Categories:
unmolested, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
Restored Was His Heart, Soul And Might
(The Woodsman)
Hollow place in the woods most deep,
now unmolested by man or by beast.
Reserved for a wise visitor's return,
a promise he swore one day to keep,
when starry night holds a big feast!
Life called the woodsman far away,
into a war he was so sadly cast.
He simply had rushed to take his turn,
sacred duty in life he had to pay,
while praying it not to be his last.
Shell and shock had laid him so low,
laying in a hospital back East.
That vow was not forgotten by he,
April, time came for him there to go,
to partake in a moonlight feast!
Arriving back there with setting sun,
he trekked into forest all alone.
Returning king was this brave man,
a true woodsman and Nature's son,
above him glory of moonlight shone.
Found again the hollow so very deep,
his throne nestled, cozy and fine.
Moonlight and Nature did so conspire,
as he laid down to peacefully sleep,
to ease his tired and troubled mind!
Waking with the soft, wet morning dew,
this king greeted Nature and the day.
Smile that gave all there such delight,
so his life danced and began again anew,
restored was his heart, soul and might!
Robert J. Lindley, 06-20-2015
Categories:
unmolested, age, appreciation, art, beautiful,
Form:
Rhyme
Oh Jeannie, extraordinary being of magic
No wish shall be an affair of the tragic
- not from me -
One based upon my unselfish half,
now and in the hereafter
A single wish to ponder, is happiness,
and worldwide laughter
to take away every creatures' bad day and give
a small piece of heaven as a daily gift.
The simple ability to give all a giggly lift.
Of course, on mine own behalf, would be
A marvelous ranch full of sublime horses
Paying others to do all the chores
My life spent on horseback, galloping shores
of the world, seeing with my eyes
the perfection of God's many seas and skies.
A third wish, not just for me and mine
would be for all to appreciate the earth
and all her species, we are here such a short time.
Leave the wild things wild, let them alone
creatures to live unmolested all over the globe.
A. Green
Categories:
unmolested, hopeme,
Form:
Free verse
" I CAN'T HEAR YOU WHEN YOU WHISPER "
you screech one final time,
so loudly that the walls between us shake
(Listen, listen, listen!)
I repeat, with fresh rebellion
but to you, it's just a whisper
so you hear nothing
'til my lips are at your grimy ear
and now it is too late
After I have done, you thump behind me down the cellar stairs, eyes aglitter
And leaning awkwardly against the roughened wall,
stare past me as I work
I may now speak my mind unmolested,
while you, of course, can make no further
comment
These shaken walls hold sentences for far too many ghosts
and tomorrow, I'll begin to tear them down
but for now, I eulogize at the height of my voice
so I can't hear you when you whisper
Categories:
unmolested, abuse, anger, angst, death,
Form:
Free verse
(Mary, Mary quite contrary, tending your garden just so;
planting your bells and cockle shells, and hoping to grow.)
I built a little house,
And dared to plant a few flowers in the garden.
Surrounded by gray stone walls and a prickly hedge,
The violets and the daisies grew unmolested.
I wasn't inhospitable.
I placed a bell on the front gate,
And built a flagstone path towards the kitchen door,
For all legitimate passers-by.
But you came creeping,
Like a thief in the night.
Over the wall,
And past the gate;
Sewing seeds of dissent
Wherever you trod.
I suspected something might be wrong,
But I did not want to see,
So I buried the thought.
Trouble is, burying and planting
Can have the same effect.
An alien bush
Grown from a monster seed,
Appeared like a feral plague.
I pruned and trimmed,
Pruned and trimmed,
Trimmed and pruned,
To no avail.
So now I see in the light of day,
Please take your weeds
And go,
Go far, far away.
For the entrance is the door,
And visitors ring the bell.
Those who stalk and slink
Mean nought but ill
I think...
I think.
Categories:
unmolested, abuse, nursery rhyme, psychological,
Form:
Free verse
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ always knows the way she ought to go
There’s no-one left alive aboard to haul her rigging so
Her crew and Cap’n flounder on the seabed far below
But the ‘Satan’s Daughter’ sails on for she knows which way to go
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ sets her sails in fear of no tempest
Of all the fears of sailor men it’s fog she likes the best
Though never has a lookout seen her quickly turn about -
To head into a fog; but some have seen her coming out
Only one of these survived to rave about the day
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ thundered from the eerie, misty grey
The Captain of the ‘Godspeed’ knew he had to save his neck
When an albatross fell from the sky and crashed down on the deck
He raved about a spectacle, he raved about a tentacle
He tossed his log into the sea encased in a receptacle
So when they said, ‘Survived’, perhaps they might have stretched the truth
For when the ‘Godspeed’ sank his log was all we had for proof
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ sails on unmolested as she goes
Unperturbed that somewhere there’s a flotilla that grows
Moving on, they had a face off midst the arctic ice
She watched those ships all go down in not much more than a trice
But what might be the spectacle and what could be the tentacle
Can a sailing ship ever be quite so reprehensible
The ‘Satan’s Daughter’ came and went and soon we’d understand
As one tentacle… and then another… crept upon our land
Categories:
unmolested, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
no man is an island,
part of the continent i believe thee to say
well some have chosen a peninsula
free of cross-town traffic
friends are few and far between
we treasure our own thinking
less the frivolous conversations
with entities of no real worth, our pursuits
life quieter absent the chatter
have absconded from life's drama
which is a good thing
because the more withdrawn
the scarier to the world you are
hence few phone calls
or emails of, please forward at once
should a distant relative win the lottery
you won't be trampled in the line
having left the neighborhood
what better to your back
then the metaphor of the sea
there is no better place to be
dreaming of life on the high seas
easier to deal with reality, Empyreal Heights
more than likely your awarding fate
so yes, no man is truly an island
John Donne is quite correct
and if i could show him this world
of dystopian novels, romantic walking-dead
religious babblers, political rapscallions, preppers
blame God for manmade heaps of misery
brains with no depth of history
oxytocin, mirror neuron drooling fools
emotions missing logic and reasoning
better hauled away in a Honey wagon
or deposited into Honey Buckets
neither of which attracts a bee
well i am sure he would add a peninsula
to some other possibilities where to reside
then quickly disappear for apparent reasons
but you know us Romantics
we try to see a better side
from our own rooms on the peninsula
far from the maddening crowd
where creativity breeds unmolested
OKC 6/22
Categories:
unmolested, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
I’m confined
Weighted
By this body of clay
I cannot soar
On the wings of my dreams
Or from lofty heights
Swoop down
To dip my hands in ocean streams
And then claim again
My place in the sky
Confined
Weighted
By the cares of this world
By my tears
By a world bound in fears
Confined
But then a song
Floats on the breeze
And fills my waiting ears
With the melody of hope
Serenity
Beauty
Liltingly sweet
The musical score, my wings
The notes, my sturdy features
The voice, the wind that will carry me
My soul, the spirit of flight
The music carries me away
I take over the skies
Winging my way to places
That entice and beguile
The hidden corners of my wind
Unexplored…undefined
Virgin territory
Where beauty resides
Unmolested and pristine
Soaring and gliding
As the music plays on
I live my fantasy
I unfurl my dreams
The wind flowing above and beneath
Carrying me...
Beating my wings
I go faster, higher
Then…I spread them wide
Oh, to glide…to glide
On the wind’s caress
To look down and know
My spirit is free
No longer confined
The last note fades away
As my feet touch the ground
Back to life as it was
As it is
As it will be
With one little difference
I have gained the sweet knowledge
That I'm not confined
Every song
Is a promise
Of beautiful dreams in flight
An invitation
To spread my wings
and
F L Y!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Music MOVES me! I can't explain...This poem is SO inadequate...I've just come back from a lovely flight into the clouds of my dreams having listening to this song.....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=675rLFDc5I0
Yes, it is in FRENCH...I adore this language....An obsession of mine while living in Cyprus was to watch the EUROVISION song contest every May...I was so obsessed I'd even call in and vote! :) My daughter and I would stay up till the wee hours of morning to root for our favorite entries...This song...I've never forgotten. Also, the entry by MALTA...ANGEL...has stayed with me...What would we do without MUSIC? Sorry...got carried away...Can't blog so, put up with me! HUGS!
Categories:
unmolested, song,
Form:
Free verse
Fate propelled me into your belly
When my own prayers went unanswered
In the wake of the harvest of thorns
When the alien- buffered by our silence
Shackled, manacled and butchered
Those of us that would not capitulate.
Yes, fate propelled me into your womb
And there I lay- prostrate
For a season and a half
A whole season and a half-
Unmolested, unmanacled, unshackled
By those who would rather I died.
I said fate propelled me, do you hear?
And your womb protected me
And let me germinate, grow and blossom;
Even though the alien scoffed and ranted
Yet the cord of our freedom
The umbilical cord- resisted.
That applause- that roar, that rapturous uproar
Of multitudes hitherto unknown
Pollinated the seed of my pride
As the first child of a free nation!
For the first time, I walked and marched
With my head high and my feet firm!
Oh, yes, I walked and marched
And lived as in second heaven!
Yet now I must leave in haste-
You cannot bid me ‘Farewell’
And I cannot bid you ‘Goodbye’.
Not because I love you any less!
Not because you love me any less!
But who can argue with a bulldozer?
Who can hold court with a gun?
If only the gun and the bulldozer
Were in the hands of the alien
We might have consulted an oracle
We might have raised our voices.
But the gun was in the hands of Tendai
The bulldozer was driven by Tatenda
And the order was given by Tawanda.
These are your children, Tafara
These are your own children
I cannot argue with your children.
So, I go back to where I came from
Even though I know not where
And re-kindle my unanswered prayer!
As I compose this belated farewell
I am on my way to nowhere
For I know, you, too, are on your way
To nowhere! Yes, I am on my way!
Goodbye, Tafara!
Categories:
unmolested, betrayal, heartbroken,
Form:
Free verse
Palm trees and bamboo tower
above me
What grand stature!
Patches of terra uncensored by grass
Ferns intertwine, creating a
jungle of green
Deceased, arid palm leaves
rest upon a bed of lively shrub
The humid, Hilo air
annoying, yet, a sense of
warm, maternal embrace
surrounds me
Mr. Buddha, he sits, stone still
So patient
Unmolested by the humidity
or the mosquitoes
An ever so slight grin he presents
that says:
"I don't know it all, but I am content."
Categories:
unmolested, day, nature, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
THE CLOCK
In the shadows of deepening twilight
remote in a familiar world;
each moment the tick of a clock,
each one added to all
that have gone before,
each, one less the total.
How many days have I
or should my time
be set in breaths.
What if I breath faster,
will slow breath slow time,
but no answer from the night.
The wind wafts in and out
through the open window
stirring the shadows;
each gust like the breath
of some dim giant,
his pulse the flow of time.
Time, ever moving, unyielding
to any hope or thought;
time’s path to infinity
shielded from the present
as though by an invisible wall,
holding back hope and thought.
Along this pathway from the past
there lays scattered, time worn debris;
all the dreams once cherished,
now no more than faded pictures;
names and faces lost to memory,
the significant now insignificant.
At one time I thought
or did think I could stop
universal madness with a scream,
but I couldn’t scream and expose myself;
time raged in open warfare,
unmolested in its bludgeoning way.
Yet unchecked life flows
in rapid acceleration
further from the beginning
ever closer to the end,
each moment the tick of a clock
without sound yet still heard.
Immortal I the soul ponders
of universal wonders,
while mortal I lay quietly
in the depth of shadows;
each tick, one added to all,
each, one less the total.
Categories:
unmolested, dark, deep, introspection, memorial
Form:
Free verse
The miasma of Understanding
Been raining and the pale nature is green again like a new spring, but
it is a fake spring, in end of November winter will pale all living plants in
submission. There is o point sending poetry to anyone, till February,
when my almond tree blossoms and strews petals about in opposition,
thinking the winter has been occupying the stage too long. Last winter
snow fell and for a moment it was winter wonder land, old people said
they had not seen snow for forty five years the river runs yellow after
much rain on the upland and I think of a China’s main river and a rare
dolphin no one has seen for years. Rumours have it animal still exists.
This morning on the track a boar stood, the wind was against it, stood
still it sniffed the air; yeah the bloody animal is in need of good specs.
Standoff took time restless I moved and the fattish pig disappeared into
the undergrowth grunting as talking to itself. Often on my walk I take my
camera with me, but animals are shy, don’t like to have their photo taken,
except trees and thorny bushes that are vain preening and vying for my
attention, so in order not to offend them I take a few pictures and they
let me pass unmolested. Retrospection: my laziness has paid off I have
a charmed life no one expect and I can be forgotten in peace.
Categories:
unmolested, art, fantasy, health, imagination,
Form:
Blank verse