Best Unpacked Poems
“My tears are testimony of my devotion to Beloved;
and from those tears white lilies will grow that speak the truth.”
Rumi
I had heard the legend of her tears,
silent drops of sorrow liberating her pain,
flowing upon the tip of her voiceless lips.
Her hopes descending like blossom buds,
drowning in ripples of rampant tides,
dragging her deeper into despair,
as her words suffocated among ignorant waves.
Trials of life had infected her mind,
with a melody of melancholic vapours,
setting her adrift in misplaced uncharted waters.
Immersing further, her cries no longer echoed,
as her heart choked upon confined consciousness.
Upon the depths of concussed misconception,
under electric, earthquake, haunting horizons,
her soul lay in slumber deluded by misjudgement.
Confused between regret and remorse,
trapped within the dilemma of circumstance,
her fears set sail upon satanic seas,
but only crawled into solitary seclusion -
forming eggshell foundations.
I was no hero nor did I have a halo,
but I was born to become a martyr,
in the glory of her martyrdom,
so I unpacked my heart,
ready for the final crusade of my life.
Treading upon a path of cracked glass,
decaying with crumbling concrete,
I wandered towards her speechless screams.
Preparing to feel the personification of her pain.
Empathic nature of my spirit yearned to
rescue her from the illusions of a fathomless abyss,
to release her from her internal crucifixion -
hoping we would merge like ocean and shore.
As I reached the darkness of her door,
like a star falling from heaven,
her truth like stardust, softly sprinkled,
flourishing and nourishing through me.
I placed my heart into her hands,
as light faded out the blackness,
like an abundance of kaleidoscopic petals,
her tears now illuminated like a rainbow.
Overwhelmed in this tranquillity,
shimmering reflections of emotions,
like gentle rain cascading from my soul,
I became tearful as they nurtured my heart's garden.
I remain intoxicated in their enchantment,
kissing her sorrows away for eternity.
Categories:
unpacked, appreciation, love,
Form:
Epic
Another Christmas season has arrived, at last
and like so many others from Yuletides past,
I'm glad some things have remained unchanged
Although the furniture has been rearranged.
Across the room, a fire crackles and burns
Jenny has grown; for love, her heart yearns
I recall when all she wanted was a baby doll
and skates for the new ice rink in the mall
I've been unpacked in just enough time to see
my family hanging ornaments upon their fir tree.
Garlands of holly berries and popcorn strung
The green velvet stockings beneath me are hung
There's gingerbread scent and carols on the radio
Dad sneaked a kiss from Mom under the mistletoe
The angel nods to me as she's lifted into place
atop the tree. She once told me her name is Grace.
There's old Kaci, the collie, fast asleep on his rug
Grandpa looks sad. I wish I could give him a hug
Mom is headed for the mantle to give me a shake
She's always gentle, taking care I don't break.
I was a gift from her Mom on Christmas, long ago
when she had asked Santa to please bring her snow,
but snow didn't fall in the South where she resided.
I was the closest thing Santa had lovingly provided
Tears fill Mom's eyes as my snow starts to flurry
I've become a bit cloudy and that makes her worry,
but I'll see her smile again Christmas Eve night
when she puts me in Jenny's stocking by fire light.
December 15, 2020
Christmas Poems ~ Old or New
Sponsored by ~ Constance La France
Categories:
unpacked, christmas, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
Treasures from my Past
In preparing for the yard sale, I gather all my junk,
I wade through the mass of items from decades before
From furniture to dishes that have sat down in my basement
And I realize that my past will be pushed outside my door.
I pick up a box of Royal Albert dishes from a dusty cardboard box,
Carefully removing the yellowed newspaper that wrap each plate,
Displaying the majestic burgundy strip with 24k gold filigree,
Rediscovering those joyful feelings that seem to calm and sedate.
Long before the death of my parents and my only aunt,
These plates graced the dining room table at all family celebrations.
Oh the food, the smells, the faces and the happy times,
These plates bring back all the best and warmest sensations.
With so many items to keep, each item with its own meaning,
The Royal Albert plates unpacked, finally get moved outside at last,
To ease my mind I think about the happiness that they can bring,
More happy memories for others, can be made from these plates of my past.
Categories:
unpacked, family, nostalgia, happy, happy,
Form:
Free verse
Muted spring tunes, in blush
Glides softly on the strings
between the seasons
Nickel-plated steel springs become soft
A lush, colorful atmosphere
whirls around your head
Feminine details are being unpacked
channeling eternal muses
Freshly labels, touring relentlessly
With impressive powers,
snowdrops break through the snow
Spring is obviously ready and ambitious
Musics universe is infinite
the listener is free to interpret
Play orchestra, play
Categories:
unpacked, beauty, nature, seasons, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Circadian Wobble
Circadian tripped through a trap door
Into amended reality of light and time
Where confusion missteps through the waltz of the hours,
And intervals of minutes
Glare at each other suddenly plucked out of place
Leaping into a space reserved for colleagues,
Renamed without their permission,
Here circadian wobbles in an new identity assumed
Where dawn rises in darkness -
Dusk becomes twilight –
When the morning star collides
With alpenglow
And sleep eludes the routine of dreamers
Rhythm disrupted –
Gone the orderly synchronized ballet of hours,
In their birth space,
Minutes running early
Gazing into prophetic confusion
Back to days to come
Déjà vu unpacked
Staggering in crunchy seconds of DLSD
Sunlight confused by second hands
Not knowing their place
In the Circadian scheme or on the face of eternity’s timepiece
A standoff in the litany of changing light
That lingers just a little longer in the cycle of day and night
Surrealist creation longing to hold onto light
Until the globe turns its face into the season
When time and light re-align.
DLSD – Daylight Savings Time Disorder
3-17-21
Contest: Inner Alignment
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Categories:
unpacked, light, time,
Form:
Free verse
Harrowing shifts placating Palestinian patients
Awkwardly healing bones, injuries war caused
Comfort we gave seemed severely insufficient
Soul mates meeting among pain, implausible
Crutch hobbling boy with copious haphazard grin
Caught both our hearts, we smuggled him chocolate
You took every free chance to sit and joke with him
Your easy demeanor is medicine, patients responded
Images of rubble sifting shadow-faced citizens
Inescapable magnitude replayed, dream tethered
Impact we made upon fractured limbs and spirits
Told us each smile gained was worthy endeavour
I've speculated our distance pronounced our parallels
A far, foreign land artificially grew our new love found
Strongest logic shows me your benevolence plentiful
Desire stunned us, despite draped shapeless gowns
A year improvising in Gaza's limping hospice system
Threatened to take my buoyancy amongst its tragedy
Compassion you dealt exposed a myriad of wisdom
Guardians of burden bandaged turmoil's inched recovery
Excitement of moving in together, calm logic forgotten
Several short weeks after Gaza, shared goals discussed
A jubilant wedding, white gown without tie backed cotton
Box pile totems, future unpacked together, a time for us
17th August 2020
JCB Burl, Sponsor
Contest, 'A Time For Us'
Categories:
unpacked, best friend, boyfriend, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
Father,
your back is turned,
immersed in work deadlines.
Briefcase journeys take you away,
paper trails proceeding
to lead further
from home.
Father,
this picture hangs,
secured by two magnets:
your hand in mine, showing me life.
Cocooned caterpillar
learns to fly, but
returns.
Father,
I met a man
with hands as strong as yours:
certificate signed, clothes unpacked.
Eyes computer immersed,
his back is turned
from me.
Father,
my name has changed,
though I wanted yours back.
Recessively, your name resides
in genuine smiles though
woes, faithfulness,
and hope.
Father,
your name remains,
untampered by distance,
though fading with stone's weathering.
My son lays down lilacs
and I lay down
my tears.
6-6-2021
Heptastich Poetry Contest N/A
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Categories:
unpacked, absence, death, father, father
Form:
Verse
It was nice to come in from the cold
I ordered my espresso
Sat in the corner by myself
Wanted to read and relax
A man then came and sat
At the table next to me
Uncomfortably close I thought
He took off some layers
Unpacked a bag
It crossed my mind
He may be homeless
He had that look about him
It’s not like I was about to ask
Or engage in conversation
I had not slept all night
Definitely not in any mood
To stir the morning air
It crossed my mind
That I could not imagine
With the oncoming of winter
Being without my home or family
I was no longer in the mood to
Leisurely hang around
I reached to put my coat on
And couldn’t help but notice
The big hole in his left boot
I gasped inside my head
As I nodded and
Gave him a warm smile
Too stunned to do or say anything
I think about him now and then
And how that hole is now
Imprinted in my heart
Read on air by invitation ~ July 7, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on November 25, 2018
Categories:
unpacked, poverty, winter,
Form:
Free verse
Who the hell do you think you are?
Who give you the right
To behave
Like the rest of the cave men?
I thought you were enlightened
Learned
I thought….
Damn you!
Damn you for wasting my time
My love
My life
On someone like you!
I thought you were made
With heavenly fibers
With other world cells
That would appreciate the honesty
The devotion
The care
The babying
The being at your beck and call
The moving my schedule around to fit you
The moving my day around to suit you
The moving my life around to accommodate YOU
That you found in me!!!!
I thought....
DAMN!
But you are like the rest
Once you have it all
You take it for granted
Think you are the king of the world
THE MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE
You are just a man
A MAN
A typical MAN
Need the mystery???
The chase????
The need to hunt
To capture your prey
Still burns in your veins?
GO then
Get OUT
Go and hunt
Just don’t expect to come here...tired, weary
And have your meal ready
And your desert to be me
All creamed up
Ready....
To be licked clean...
Need to be treated like dirt???
To want?
To pursue?
Is that why
You came here to end it all?
I’m no longer a challenge for you?
Too much of a commitment involved?
Is your baggage getting in the way?
I could have unpacked it for you
And seen you through
Damn…damn damn damn
I’ll never learn
To hold back
And not give it all away
Now you want to leave???
Yea, it’s been nice
OF COURSE IT’S BEEN NICE, MORON
I gave you my heart and soul
THAT’S EQUIVALENT TO PARADISE
Yes, dear…
You would like to leave?
Can’t give me what I deserve
BLA BLA BLA BLA
Shut up!
LEAVE!
GOOD RIDDANCE!
I won’t grieve
Let me walk you to the door
I gave you all and more
Not because you were all that
But because I’m ALL THAT!
And MORE
That’s the way I love
That’s the way I adore
Go….good luck
When that temptress leaves you high and dry
And you taste the poison in her pie
When you finally come to see
She has the breasts
But NO HEART underneath
You'll remember me…..
Don’t come to this door
JUST LET ME BE!
Don't you DARE go knock on this door
Because, MR ALL THAT!
“LOVE DON’T LIVE ANYMORE.”
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Inspired by something someone dear to my heart is going through....
Categories:
unpacked, men, slam, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Lucky none have seen him slip and fall.
Mustn't know his strain to stand at all.
Many wondrous stories he could share.
Pass them by as if he wasn't there.
Try to help, a plate slips from his hand.
Whispers seem a guarded reprimand.
With, "I'm sorry", asks them for a broom.
Told don't worry. Shuffles to his room.
Often teens will peek when he's asleep.
Perfect size computer room retreat.
Glance at all his keepsakes still unpacked.
Confident their future plans intact.
Enter rooms, their words become a cough.
When he leaves, begin where they left off.
Waking from a dream, he's loved again.
None must know his struggle just to stand.
Gene Bourne.
07-29-13.
.
Categories:
unpacked, age, allegory, allusion, analogy,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
I thank all Participants in my endeavor to create a POETRYSOUP Dictionary I f YOU do not
see Your word yet Please be Patient I was not expecting such a Great response You may
send in more than one word(per : Brian Strand, Dane Ann, and Sean Kelly) Thank-YOU
Again YOUR POETRY Brother ALWAYS...HG
Coffee --- The Person Upon Whom You Cough --- Sean Kelly
Flabbergasted --- Appalled At The Extra Weight I've Gained --- Sean Kelly
Hollywood --- Decorative Christmas Forest --- Sean Kelly
Reliable --- Being Able To Successfully Tell Untruths ---Sean Kelly
Hypnosis --- Your Sister Who Refuses Her Hip Operation --- Sean Kelly
Coffee --- Life's Spark Plug --- Karen O'Leary
Wallflower --- Take Five - Hand Jive --- Brian Strand
Bank Promissory Note --- My Gosh, What Tosh --- Brian Strand
Clueless --- Oh No - Clouseau --- Brian Strand
Futures Trading --- I Bet - You Sweat --- Brian Strand
Still Life --- Tableau Stage Show --- Briand Strand
Hobo --- No Bread - in Shed ---Brian Strand
Taize-Rondo --- Sung Low ---Brian Strand
Chaplin --- No Sound Around --- Brian Strand
Rsvp --- See You - Chez Nous --- Brian strand
Veni, Vedi, Vici --- Old Ode, In Code --- Brian Strand
Dear John --- Sweetheart, We Part --- Brian Strand
C A I - Misspell - Ssh Don't Tell --- Briand Strand
One Party State --- I Choose - You Loose ---Brian Strand
Conredanse --- Line Dance - In France --- Brian Strand
Democracy --- Fair Do's -You Choose --- Briand
Charleston --- Kick Feet - Off Beat ---Briand Strand
WIKIPEDIA --- Free Facts - Unpacked ---Briand Strand
Blog (1) --- Essay Today --- Brian Strand
Blog (2) --- Bio To Show --- Brian Strand
Solid State --- Opacity Capacity --- Robert A. Dufresne
Not Fit For Purpose --- Useless, I Guess --- Brian Strand
Off The Record --- You Wrote My Note --- Brian Strand
Press Release --- Off Pat - No Chat --- Brian Strand
Intuition --- Sat - Nav Less --- Brian Strand
Xylophone --- Music's Home --- Dane Ann
X-Ray --- Bone Inspector --- Dane Ann
Zeal --- Eagerness Squeal --- Dane Ann
Zoo --- Animal Crew --- Dane Ann
Categories:
unpacked, education, family, friendship, funny
Form:
Light Verse
The long drive is almost over
Slowly I head down the hill
In anxious anticipation
Of what I will find
I don't really know what I'm expecting
Just something new maybe
An overgrown path in the center of the road
Lets me know I am one of the first
I wildly shift my eyes back and forth taking in all
The beauty this place gives never disappoints
Sometimes it's a flower peeking through the leaves
Or a vine growing, maybe a new bush
Slowly I exit in anticipation of familiar scents
The cedar, the green, the lake all have their own flavors
As I put in the key and slowly turn the knob
The scent of cottage envelops me
For a second, I am at peace, home
And after all is settled, and all is unpacked
I listen, to the sounds of the forest
I try to hear the waves, are they crashing
Or still, I wonder what tomorrow will bring
But for now, I lie still and exhale
Nothing can find me here
No stress, nothing, but peace
And a familiarness felt by those before me
I often wonder if they visit here too
But for now, I am alone in my calm
Until tomorrow, when I will explore
My favorite places, do my favorite things
If I want to
Because here time stands still
Categories:
unpacked, beautiful, home, nostalgia, me,
Form:
Narrative
smoother than most, all moving no boast, shooting a moon to toast, to our beautiful host
revolving no doors, just opportunities score marking the entrance ways pores
balance implored
fracking a lack of communication crashing breaking backs and racking our foundation
till were screaming take it back
unpacked and all out, dig deep for the fall out, kettle blackened from potty mouths,
busted missing a tea spout
pour me a gallon of chandon the whole sip for your front lawn, till the bottles dry
like jokes from monty python
silly satans salivating sighing and spraying your favorite simon's saying cause piles of money and ego feed are waiting for the generating
nothing new under the sun but above clouds I found me some, cause ignant bliss still exists even if you wear a cummerbund
tell all your facts and try to catch my glazed eye, cause compromise can be the do or die, to where ever future lovers lie
this blueberry from space ferry might fit in a test tube in perspective
or we just miss the point why evolution was so selective
Categories:
unpacked, earth, environment, metaphor, mom,
Form:
Rhyme
Ended is my week to make Satan smile
The weather forecast calls for sun all day
My camping gear sits in an unpacked pile
As, of course, pouring rain has come this way
I was headed outside to cleanse my soul
By camping out under open blue skies
Although my good plans may have come undone
I will not change my goal
This win the devil shall not realize
As I will engage in rainy day fun
I start a fire in my fireplace
Spread the down sleeping bag across the floor
With marshmallows and chocolates in place
I devour some of my campout smores
I digest my book on astronomy
Learning the position of all the stars
Getting prepared for the next night that clears
Reading Ptolemy
Find out exactly how to locate Mars
Gain the intelligence to last for years
Rain will not compound this week’s misery
Beelzebub shall not have his will today
I have learned from my long past history
Not to let some rain get into my way
My fingers will make love to the guitar
Sitting right here on my living room floor
Even though I may not be outside now
I know what good times are
As I throw on a couple of logs more
And I still cleanse my tired soul somehow
Categories:
unpacked, happiness, rain, may, rain,
Form:
Ode
Having soaked up
all her memories
whilst dancing
with the man she loved
So many nights remembered
as their souls soared up above
I complemented her red hair
rich emerald green my hue
designer elegance was I
so many compliments I drew
Throughout the years
much joy and laughter
but now I was feeling discarded
just hanging around in her wardrobe
in deepest
darkest
blackness
The only sounds I ever heard
were fluttering wings of moths
Arriving hungry every night
chomping and chewing
her clothes they did ruin
but from me ~ they did not take a bite
My fate not looking good
from conversations overheard
My swan song was for me to be
inside her coffin ~ just her and me
On entering the furnace
we would soar up to the sky
to the arms of her beloved
dancing to the end of love
Well this had been her plan
Until sweet girl Arabella
her precious granddaughter
now coming of age
One day asked my girl
could she please try me on
Now looking more positive
for my final swan song...
So surprised to be taken
back into the light
She gently unpacked me
to my utter delight
Arabella – her grandchild
was trying me on
in this emerald green dress
she shimmered
she shone
and me
~
this Emerald Green Dress
~
Well
~
I was out to impress…
Written 13th July 2019
after gifting my precious Emerald Green Dress to my granddaughter Arabella
now 18 years of age ~ and so the memories will go on…
Contest 'Brian's Choice X
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Categories:
unpacked, granddaughter, green, love, memory,
Form:
Personification