Best Unrest Poems


Premium Member Unrest of Spirit

UNREST OF SPIRIT

I suffered an unrest of spirit
When informed by the local law
That I could be arrested for violation 
Of the restraining order I saw

I accepted it with heartbreak
But quickly changed it to prayer
The deputy was surprised by this
He expected to leave me in despair 


9 November 2018
For the contest, Unrest of Spirit
Sponsored by Julia Ward

Unrest of Spirit

She ran herself ragged working her fingers to the bone 
for she didn't want to think about him nor be left alone 
her feelings were a phantom mirror of her spectre self  
torn by grief, she had no choice but to face herself ....   

She closed the porchlight and took a walk to a nearby Bay  
placing her head in the sand her mind finally began to un-fray      
Soon the rend of her pain allowed her the finality of letting go  
as a peaceful feeling sheltered in, like a warm cozy throw. 
 
 
Contest Name: Unrest Of Spirit 
Sponsor: Julia Ward 
Date: 11/10/2018

Premium Member He Has a Name

When the poets fall silent Man will not only lose his voice but also the notion of Life. ~Suzette Richards

Steeped in the pain of his slain countryman, 
surrounded by the turmoil of real fears 
which lay exposed on the stone-cold tarmac, 
a poet dipped his ink in the spilled tears. 
He had a name … He had a name …

A mother’s son had stood up to be counted 
during a time when voices were made mute, 
indoctrinated to a point of stupor. 
A poet observes and remains resolute. 
He had a name? He had a name.

No statue would be erected in his name 
as he was not the first man to be slain. 
At the next roll call of the civil unrest, 
this poet’s words ease some of the naked pain. 
He has a name. He has a name!


Premium Member Pandemic Stew

Let's do dinner tonight at the Covid 19, the hottest new restaurant in town.
We won't need a face mask, we'll sit with a crowd and dine on Pandemic Stew.
We'll start with a creamy White Supremacist Broth served with Storm Trooper 
Croutons
And then there's a cocktail of rare Racial Strife heaped up on a bed of Brutality Ice.
For dessert, there's an End of Democracy Cake infused with Suppressions to Vote,
From the bar we can order a Vodka con Putin dumped into a large Diet Coke.
There's no entertainment, the band has left town but there's reruns of Trump Photo Ops.
There's a two for one special that's running this week, no need for cash on The Spot 
'Cause the sign on the door makes it perfectly clear, "Your Soul of America card Welcomed here".
Shall we go there tonight to the Covid 19 and dine on Pandemic Stew
And not wear a face mask and sit with a crowd?
Depends on what life means to you - it's to die for!!

Unrest

Unrest

Another panic attack
Brain’s dial stuck on whack
Search for the balance
There is no turning back

Cannot affect my whole day
All the ways I convey
How I get lost in perception 
Oh, how my thoughts stray

I seek inner harmony 
Thoughts with grounded symmetry
Once I lose the uneasiness in my core
Time to use my grey matter amply aptly

Ah! Freedom from discord
Intensity does not always jump the fjord
If I remember to exhale
Myself in minutes, aboveboard

I have learned to live this way
Deep breathing inside my airway
Instability soon will feign
I embrace the color gray

Nothing is black or white
Independent creates the blight
Let us aspire to sway
Open minded souls of light



								Sunshine Williams

Unrest

Footsteps where they should not be.
Is this, in fact, insanity?
Or might it be reality?

She to whom I gave my vow,
often spurned my bed with a scowl,
then to the taverns she would prowl.

I sought her out to make a stand,
but found her with another man.
I returned home with another plan.

When she returned for her purse,
I greeted her with knife and curse.
To her rest she rode a hearse.

Now through the window in the gloom,
I see a shadow from the tomb.
I fear it lusts for my doom.

I hear the creaking of the door,
then a shuffling 'cross the floor.
Soon, I think, I'll hear no more.

Footsteps where they should not be.
Is this, in fact, insanity?
I pray, it is not....

reality.


Civil Unrest

a chastushka

Civil noncompliance like whiskey
ages slow with pressure until...
Laws that render conscience risky
should be labeled a reflux still.

Weeping Gun

My palms are growing wet
Sweat has covered my trigger
Night and day in enemies nest
Operating like battalions of mere singers.

I fight 21st century with 20th century bullets
Blood on my face, wounds yielding deeper
In shattered body my brethren in uniform rest
Unjust funding makes our defence wall weaker.

Father, I am in a wilderness fighting a shapeless war
No back ups, no one is watching out for our fall
Like we are dying for those who don't care about us
Our enemies are in golden armor while we ride on horse.

Mother, did the demise of my gun brothers makes the headlines?
I heard the 'next level' was lunched on that day
And my superiors disown us to dine at the front line
Well, don't cry yet, I'm still alive at least for today.  

Oh, my palms are wet and my hopes like a thread
My eyes shed more tears than the blood my gun sheds
We are too weak to keep pulling these triggers
Aso Rock, upgrade us now or take us home to our fathers.

Premium Member Unrest

Unwary and unwise

                             Unfortunate abuse

                                   Upheld by the harshness

                                                  Useful new euphemism

                                    Ultimate goodness rule

                                Unseen, not dubious

                       Unshackle candidness


Written: April 30, 2021

Pleiades U Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Merryman


Syllables checked with howmanysyllables.com
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Orchestral Unrest

Bellicose banter
between brass and bent woodwind
in rival rhythm.

Premium Member Civil Unrest

Before I gave the judge my guilty plea
and turned a fable into honesty,
I thought of all I’d miss for ninety days
while patched in pumpkin orange and dwelling grays;

this I’ll confess: unrest confined my crime
and forced my will on unsuspecting time,
until my mother’s weekly visit came;
until her love absolved imprisoned shame.


11/23/2018

Submitted for: Unrest of Spirit Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward

I Am

I am refreshing as a cool summer breeze that blows down from the mountains. 
I am a great childhood memory as grandma's ice tea and buttered toast. 
I am good times_sunny days at the beach with the finest of friends; a fun day of running through thick grassy fields with bare feet. 
I am an unforgettable first love_strong emotions_ tingles and smiles, and the sweet array of the light touch of shy lips; that special first kiss. 
I am tasteful romance and fine dining, candlelight dinner for two served with vintage wine on a private yacht named "Paradise". 
I am... Natures' Best! 

I am the worst feeling you can imagine_ hot scorching winds against virgin skin, bad dreams that do not end. 
I am regrettable as the slip of the tongue_ words spoken in anger that you can never take back. 
I am the pains of two days of hard labor without the joys of childbirth. 
I am the dread of lost jobs, unpaid bills, empty wallets, and negative $5.00 in the bank. 
I am illness, that sick feeling deep down in the pit of your guts developed from worry and anxiety. 
I am fear, remorse, and the devastation of searching for a missing child; yet, finding only shreds of clothing. 
I am what we have come to know as "Hades on earth". 
I am Nature's Unrest! 

06-09-2019
Contest: Go Deep Within An Emotions Poetry Contest
Sponsor:  Sheri Fresonke Harper

Unrest - a Sound of Jumbos

They punch a fist in the air
Anger written on their faces
Those deaths of their own..
Having ignited hidden fires

Rushing over each other arsonist...
Reason and civility is thrown away
Adopting hardwired survival mode
They rant chant and grow furious

Distancing rules of Covid forgat
I cry with them and pray morrow
We won't be burying them too..
When the dreaded virus attacks 
Who is fueling these fires now..

At a time when the neo-revolutionaries
Risk being executed by a Covid 19 virus
Distancing they are testing a hypothesis
In a battle as old as time the surge-on

Is it the Spanish conquerors who ignited it now..
Or the Arabian enslavers who planted the seeds
Or them Templer's founders of the Newfoundland
Who appeased them fires with an in God we trust

When the puritans in Salem burnt Tituba 
Her confessions to witchcraft but coerced
A puritan community covering behind Law
Aiding and  abetting an injustice of racism
Wait now..did they but then set her free..

Where are all the gains made in rights movements
If at the tiniest spark flames allover do now ignite
Is tolerance but a subtle retreat as peoples gather..
All manner of arsenal in battle the for domination...

Sons of a lesser God are there really any now One
Yet you do recite that he called his son from Kafira
With Kemet said to have enslaved a race chosen..
Am reminded he blessed them all.. subdue the earth

Not subdue and conquer each other
Not to exploit other's guise of labour
As they enshrine a demi-god of greed
Fondly aptly its named urban culture 

This one now does call for patient(ce+...
Have they not suffered enough anguish
At this stage of the Journey-Kibrithmana
And as Moosa uplifted that bronze snake

Don a bib... We pray it not Horsemen
We heard what seven thunders spake
As angels Swoon all over the earth...
Reapers working overtime.. Jumbos

Unrest

My soul cries deep within me
Will ever it find some peace
What is it that it longs for
Why can I just not sleep
The claws of eagles grab me
And take me to the sky
Their talons rip into me
Don’t hear my body cry
Dungeons and the blackness
Hang to me as friends
My mind screams out a warning
Is this the way to end.

On the Late Unrest In France Over Supplies of a Sandwich Spread With a Touch of Marlene Dietrich

after "Ich bin die fesche Lola" sung by Marlene Dietrich 


I'm easy-going Lola, the girl who's most in voque.
The Nutella in my pantry is there for none but me.
I'm easy-going Lola, the heartthrob a la mode,
but hands off my Nutella, or my other  side you'll see.



I.m easy-going Lola ,the girl who's most in vogue
The Nutella in my pantry is stacked next to the gin.
I'll let you walk me homeward, though you are a rogue,
but hands off my Nutella, or I'll kick you in the shin.



Lola, Lola!  the boys l know who I am.
You can take my marmalade, if that is what you seek.
I.m not one to be  petty, so take my strawberry jam,
but fingers off Nutella, or it's hospital all week/

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