Best Unscented Poems
( Repost )
Somehow, her eyes expand with the disobedient sky
and there, she senses urchins filling water on the lake
her feet and thighs slide up changing hues,
with receding incarnations of the moon.
She bends down gazing at images on the lake
as limbs turn into seaweeds, a mermaid in pain
changing hues in the crystal white of sky…
and the moon with slices of split mirrors burn
on wiggles of unscented tresses in water.
She dips her hands to catch the sleek tail in a plunge
knowing not a word to describe the reflection on the lake,
and witness the need to flow randomly in its
entrance through the expanse of one silver sky…
trying to recover glimpses reflected in the water.
Without point of reference to unknown images,
she vaguely remembers how transparently liquid
the changing hues of the moon become watery
like a hint of coagulated blood on a mermaid’s lake...
and the laughter of the sky drips into imaginings.
.......................................
* Written for a fantasy contest that was discontinued;
its theme required entrants to describe one's mirrored
image of the self. Few comments ranged from " Nice, but I
didn't get it" to " You seemed to have overused the word
"water?" In hindsight, I asked myself," what
were you thinking? This is sloppy!"
Jerry T Curtis' This Poem S***s Contest
Categories:
unscented, fantasy, identity,
Form:
Free verse
Dancing With The Devil
Black postered silence as the shadows lights dance
A dark and sadistic waltz with evils romance
Unscented dead roses, bouquet of dried thorn
Grave ravens site the night sounds of drifting mourn
Underground dark chamber the evil buried listens in
A world obeys in silent decay as death craves new skin
Seen without vision for not all blind read by brail
Run for the door, jump in the elevator, next stop...
Oh! Damn it to Hell!!!!!
bmdavey@05/28/16
Categories:
unscented, dance, dark, deep,
Form:
Couplet
A beautiful landscape all clustered with trees
Among the bright flowers the buzzing of bees
A babbling brook and warm summer breeze
The frolic of beavers on the cool beach sand
The air that they breathe unscented by man
No human hands have touched this land
Look in the distance, what’s that bright gleam
Sun glinting off new shovels and axes of a ditch digging team
Man is coming to clear; then erect steel beam
Work is done at a feverish pace
The buyers are anxious to move into the place
The work now done has left on the site
A skyscraper shinning like a star in the night
But, the truth of this building is devastation widespread
Can’t find the brook; as it is now a dry bed
Old growth trees are cut down and dead
Birds have nowhere to give birth
Flowers are crushed under earth
Bees are unable to find pollen of worth
The beach is now a slab of concrete
Never again to bear the beavers feet
Categories:
unscented, betrayal, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Concave Reasoning
he seemed a bit demented
then again, his head was dented
yet he tried his best – and meant it
once they got his head cemented
some said he was tormented
his thoughts too long fermented
inside a head once dented
yet only recently cemented
he seemed to be contented
in a world disoriented
and he never quite repented
for the thoughts he only rented
so that he could present it
mental cash – he quickly spent it
on reasoning augmented
with logic yet unscented
so his teachers all lamented
these theories he invented
after all – his head was dented
only recently cemented
©12/23/2017
submitted to – NEW YEAR STANDARD CONTEST ANY FORM OR NONE – poetry contest
Categories:
unscented, humor,
Form:
Couplet
“It” embraces “togetherness”
Like blemished mascara on a retired call girl
“It” would speak in aggressive audible banter,
As if crystallized bullhorns were
Strapped
Onto unwelcome seating arrangements
No boundaries.
No consideration.
No apologies.
Yet, their measurement of pride
Coagulates into withered centimeters
While seducing unscented tulips
With impoverished protractors
And tattered encyclopedias
An unsatisfied square root with no common denominators,
Lacking
No (re)solutions.
Does “it” see colors when they build a façade of deteriorating vowels?
Or is their blood alcohol level tested
By walking on borrowed heels
And pickup lines made of disappearing ink,
Purchased in bulk
Could they realign high hopes while riding on constipated high horses?
Hoping to veer towards whimsical sunsets,
With silver medal’s soul mate,
Drinking from another cracked bowl of pretentious vapors
Feeble attempts to take the hand of any “available” heartbeat,
Hoping they can slow dance to their newly, hand-written
“Woe is me” Polka ballad
Another baby put in the corner
Another bounced reality check
Another hunt for rebounded bliss within conceptual kiss
No hope -> Know hope
No love -> Know love
No better -> Know better
An educated tragedy is their only flirtatious lyric.
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
unscented, life, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Two-ply in roses of yellow and pink
rolls and sings to the touch
of fingers on its faintly-scented folds,
giving miles of pleasure to soft seats
on hard covers all in the name of
modern convenience which is a change
from old catalog sheets housed in
quarter-moon outhouses
behind homesteads.
Two-ply greets us in grocery stores,
all the pretty ones sit on the front row,
purring at our squeeze test,
begging to be brought home,
heaven forbid if you buy the plain,
all-white, skinny two-ply which sits on the
bottom shelf looking forlorn because of
Its unscented homeliness.
Two-ply dies a million deaths each day,
lost in the vortex of flushed toilets,
killing its suppleness and sweet fragrance,
headed to the deep, dark sewers waiting
to be processed in the jaws of the
sewage treatment plants which do not
discriminate against the bland,
anorexic and hard-to-the-touch.
Categories:
unscented, humor, humorous,
Form:
Prose
The calla lily ladies pay a dainty little toll
to shade their face from beauty which will purify their soul.
(all protestant their daughters - ambiguity is plain -
unscented shapeless bodies with no luster to their mane)
Belief is not conceit received within a holy name
but licks with tricks to finger flick a bic to bigger flame
which decimates the future of a church so prone to pride
in search of resurrection since the congregation died.
All present indiscretions and confessions labled sin
will find in time backslidin' minds are slippin in again.
Too late for fate to find a place where faith and hope await
but somethin' in the wind again will land upon my plate.
But old remorse can set a course as games are played too straight
where beauty brought was never bought to be the brand new bait.
So wait for fate to find a face to place inside the race
for there is where the lion's share of mischief found disgrace.
Categories:
unscented, beauty, beauty,
Form:
Lyric
Even foxes have holes and birds their nest Jesus the Son of man had no place to rest Truth's King telling of the cunning craftiness of men old fox Harod a faux king guarding the home of the hen In songs of old and new of two lovers sharing a grape until day break and darkness flees like a roe chased or of Sampson and Delilah the three hundred running firebrands a strong lover setting a field on fire at last only true love stands Unlike the trickster of old or legends as numerous sands of time in cultures gave sport to the music stories the riddle and rhyme The fox has played the allusions of kings preachers wizards and wives Be wise as the fox harmless as doves ask help from above when sifting lies Ask for truth myths will fall to the ground as unscented paths for the hounds only hiding in His truth surrounded by His love can the chaste fox be found Yet in this world myths abound changing shape like a Kit soon with nine lies and nine tails grasping at will-o'-the-wisp's lume Tally-ho little kits while skulking on the leash of this earth Do not believe the lies of the enemy chasing foxfire or being poor eat the sweet peas
Categories:
unscented, animal, culture, jesus, love,
Form:
Couplet
Hello, Skeptical Mind Controlled
I dance in the pale moon light
under the devils nine delights
he watch's me play without a care
under the technical deceit of mind bending needled wear
You many be a skeptic
so the devil laughs
but he will put your blind at easy
no need, to pay (PRAY) to God
you have already prayed (PAYED) to me
without your consent
i have place a many of agents
to pump your den with many unscented things
called incapacitating agents
OH! do not think i do this just for fun
this physiological warfare
is a means, to a money making end
to which your hole (WHOLE) family
can join the hell on in
you look so at peace when, your at sleep
and my minions sing chloroformed lyrics to your many of dreams
then your heart is mind (MINE) and i control you
so what the first thing i will make you do!
Categories:
unscented, black african american, education,
Form:
Stormzy you aint the dogs Boris
you're just a rapper with a forest
and I promise honest son
the strongest grow an amazon
you're just a woodchuck not Norris
a man should woodchuck Boris
shouting chuck the government
undoubtedly just another chump
and it may seem very drastic
the geriatric made you plastic
because your stature factors
obtainable manufactured
that's factual
you ain't urban raw
more corporate tool.
why are you so frustrated
you made it now tagged to politics
marketing tricks get you rich
from hits you pitch to poor kids
urban representative unscented
do mentally subtracted
hoodie youths attract to this
political track diss
war the Tories with your poor peeps
they buy more your beats
talk about honesty
obvious marketing
tagged on to politics
masses see you exist
hear your hits and make you rich
you're like Tories
growing pockets fill
play poor need more
logics ill.
powerless to a long diss
like Austin Powers piss
grow your roughage
of awful I'm audacious
got pages to go all day Cuz
on your low brow go at BoJo
without mojo what a bozo
then label makers at the Guardian
the Labour paper for retarded men
report our nations a place
where racism takes place
I'll confront you straight to the face
you are racist mate works both ways
stupidity you're chatting
shouting victim
but the cause it happens
don't rally crews through false pretence
they harm and face sentence
justification accepts consequence
make sense bruv,
you gotta stage
you talk to these people
inciting them evil,
you're an idiot with it,
don't group and bigot
powers yours use it there will be unity,
I diss insult but end usefully
I write it down you do too
no race just paper me and you
*Cuz - cousin
BoJo - Boris Johnson
Categories:
unscented, hate, hip hop, power,
Form:
Rhyme
Let me take you back,
To a time trapped in amber.
When the World’s Fair weary,
Surely did clamber.
For a place to rest,
They came upon Mudgett’s.
Such inexpensive board,
Who could begrudge it?
Such a quaint little place,
To lay their labored heads.
Unless murderous intent,
Accompanied, purchased beds.
He would walk the floors,
Of his murderous castle.
As he practiced his trade,
The serial cessation of vassals.
When guests reached their room,
They were locked in from outside.
On silent unscented wings,
His pestilence did glide.
Filling the room,
And sets of lungs besides.
Hundreds may have wept,
And eventually died.
Finally word got around,
About a hotel of blackened dread.
Furnished with crimson carpet,
And walls speckled red.
Based on Herman Mudgett's murder castle during the 1893 World's Fair.
For the Sinister poetry competition.
03/25/13
Categories:
unscented, dark, death, fear,
Form:
Rhyme
Say what you want to say,
I love this land
From sea to shining sea
Welcoming sinners and saints.
It wasn't the indigenous Indians turning their backs
It wasn't the land that hung and dismembered us
It wasn't these shores that drowned our dreams;
The winds of change never held its breath, while
Alchemist "white supremist" dreamt up injustices to men.
Say what you want to say,
I love this land my ancestors cultivated
Here we stand transparent
Transforming market of our mind, while
Shame stood shameless
Hugged podium carved by the poor.
The silent sound of ancient tears, like
Rivers running from debris of the enemy;
Poseidon would be pissed; drunk with disgust
The "Transpopulantic" passage a graveyard,
The ghost of the innocent took no hostages -
Who would build bridges to reciprocity?
Say what you want to say,
I love this land
Vast as the Atlantic Ocean;
Who will hold garden gates ajar?
Remorse is like a rose, scented or unscented.
*
Categories:
unscented, abuse, appreciation, change, journey,
Form:
Prose
That day we followed the ancient byway
that wound round the old farm house,
past the new and on sun drenched
towards the river Brue.
You and I wandered slow,
whilst summer's promise
swooped down low
over green level pastures
in which new lambs bleated.
Passing incidental hedgerow trees
full of bird song, growing free
along the drove,
we lingered at the grassy edge
where orange tipped
peacock eyed butterflies danced.
Occasionally we glanced
towards the sacred tor to mark our way.
Meandering talk and country lanes
led to Arthur’s court yard,
in the Vale of Avalon.
Where, to the sound of the Buddhist's Om
I walked the healing pool,
held by a gentle hand.
You waited beneath a budding tree
opposite the lion’s mouth
kept company by a brambling.
I had one too in branches high above,
whilst my bare feet
were rubbed, with love and
unscented oil.
I returned to sit beside you
and with easy talk you told
me of your brambling.
That was the day of the apple blossom drop.
As we sat together side by side
on that bench in the garden of the chalice well
with warming eyes you turned to me
as clouds of apple blossom fell
smiled, and said “I organised that just for you”.
Categories:
unscented, life, love, nature, day,
Form:
Narrative
essence infused
an aromatic sprinkle ~
unscented I drink
Categories:
unscented, on writing and words,
Form:
Acrostic
Interesting talk
Restate again and again
It's okay to hear
Rise many issues
Forecasting hundred matters
But nothing realized
Fascinating tone
Wish to see the rain from clouds
But the ground stills dry
Appealing slogans
People notice and witness
Such a fun talk show
Colorful flowers
Viewers take a deep inhale
The unscented outcome
Categories:
unscented, flower, metaphor, voice,
Form:
Haiku