Best Unscramble Poems


When Poets Meet

The clouds part at their roots…
Colliding the winds, waves
Crashing the shores.
We meet…
A rare combination 
Of circumstances,
Our situation aggravate 
A drastic storm, perfectly.
Words swarm our minds 
Like busy bees in search 
Of the sweet nectar of allegorical,
Similes and metaphoric explanations…
Pollinating our conscience and subconscious
Respectfully…
The obvious perplexities of poetic banter
And inconspicuous meaning
That bounds us…
Words that conjure from elevated places,
And rollercoaster into the subliminal…
Twirling around into loops, pen to paper
Screeches and screams to an abrupt stop.

The unexplainable written,
Describing what was unknown…
Scrambling to unscramble words
To define this acquaintance,
And when the stars play chase
Through the night sky
And the moon is set-
Know that somewhere out there
Two poets have met…
© Keith Lea  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Life's Journey

Our journey begins
      the moment we're born-
            and where it will lead to,
remains unknown.
As children, we're guided-
       not left forlorn;
             but, soon comes that time
to walk on our own.

Our journey becomes
      a puzzle to find
            the answers to what
our purpose will be.
Some steps give us sight-
      and others will blind
            the path we must follow
to clearly, see.

And so it continues-
      this journey of ours
            with steps that unfold
a lifetime on Earth;
With answers unspoken,
      we reach for the stars-
            unscramble life's puzzle
given at birth.

Fractured Fairy Tale

unscramble the egg
Humpty Dumpty should have lived
puzzle master failed


Dead Man Walking

“Dead Man Walking”


Feeling as if my life is an object that is kicked, torn, separated, squashed
Pieces to be formed into one object, always missing the one piece needed
Eyes searching for the treasure map for the one piece to make me whole
Hands holding up this frail body that leans to the side while the search goes on

With a brain that seeks comfort and a soul that seeks peace
With memories of how much of a loser I have been during my struggles
With this feeling of never allowed to just be one piece instead of many
I fall to pieces again unaware it’s no one’s fault but my own

With the struggle of being me I find it hard to just open my eyes
With eyes wide open it means I am still breathing with the struggle of being alive
Wishing the demons that live within me would just take me as they have tried
I close my eyes once again praying that when they open they will be staring into the eyes of God

Today I will conquer my fears and inability to want to breathe one more day
I will stand tall and figure out the rubix cube and unscramble the many colors
I shall hide these awful feelings I have of wanting to jump into the depths of hell
Instead I will walk the path of another dead man walking

Puzzles

Unscramble knowledge
Rearrange and calculate
Time is against you

Passersby

Some are strutting; others drag,
Promenade or amble,
Every one a puzzle
We’re unable to unscramble.

Some look cocky, others sad,
Lost in their reflections,
Heading off, in head and foot,
In varying directions.

Some are spiffy, others drab,
Yet a first impression
Isn’t quite enough to gauge
Contentment or depression.

In the city, passersby
Cross paths but what we see
Will not provide the clues to solve
Each private mystery.


It's Not Lust

Together we are suffering a slow silent pain

like a execution I can feel the stinging electric shock to my heart

separated but together I thought I wouldn't care

but I do my heart aches and my soul cries for you

tell me darling does your soul cry?

I am thirsty for your love again

don't be afraid and don't cry 

if you do I will drink your tears of fears

until we unscramble our relationship puzzle 

lets give love another try forget about  your mistakes

as I will for get about mine

with arms wide open I will accept you back

now and forever I love you 

its not lust I just trust my heart and 

it will lead me right back to you 

in your arms where I suppose to be

Premium Member SOMETIMES

Sometimes sun rays feel deliciously nutritious
in delightful ways upon my then titillated skin.
Sometimes early dawn’s ideal golden streaks
smolder atop the ocean in ways that awe me.
At those times, I flounder trying to unscramble
my power to articulate all my feelings convey.
When ocean waves cascade then fade crashes
with a blustering, continuing bombast-style,
it seems a brag of guile lacking any inhibition.
Sometimes my emotions sense a divine providence
of mysterious insist in a glorious, intricate sea.
Sometimes I feel an existing cryptic, dolorous and 
lecherous content equally miraculous in sea depths.
At all these times I feel with breezed emotional might
that I am truly focused as a neophyte of life.

Valentine's

Valentine's 

Very
Altered 
Life
Entrenched 
Near
Time's 
Infinite 
Nothingness 
Evolving 
Spectacularly 

In one day I could love for a year's worth of time
or I could grow with you gradually in God's time
He counts our hairs as the wind blows
He hears the valves of our hearts pumping 
pushing cells to and fro
I wanna slow life down, enter the matrix
dodge bullets and see humming birds' wings
frame by frame, in short, I'd like to take a minute 
to savour these seconds, and continue to evolving 
spectacularly in altered living entrenched near time's 
vacancy and unscramble the day with you.
© Ts Lewis  Create an image from this poem.

It's Your Story

A new day, a new page, a fresh start
Some chicken scratch and a few words from the heart
With this pen you attempt to unscramble your brain 
Grasp each thought before it slips away
Hold tight till your knuckles turn white
Close your eyes but don’t lose sight
Twenty- six letters all arranged just right 
Don’t criticize, just let your hand flow free
Show me what others cannot see
Don’t stop, don’t think
Let the ink speak the things you can’t express
Relieve the stress, release the cement shoes on your feet
Do your best to shove the elephant off your chest
Breathe easy
Live now, no rewind, put the past out of your mind
It’s your time in the lime light
They’re your chapters to write
Rewrite, analyze, revise till you’re satisfied
You’re the author
What will your story be like?
© Lj Jackson  Create an image from this poem.

Crumbs of Deception

...A poem dedicated to a character named Koreen Mae Garson (a lady, not a man)... 

Your love smokes me like a worn-out cigarette

Your love blemishes me with bite marks

You brush aside the crumbs…now I’m stomped on all over again
Your hugs are constricting like a serpent
Your hugs loses its passion…my fury vigorously sparks
You abandon me cold-bloodedly, now I choke in harsh punishment

Your treachery strangles me…you don't consider my screams of importance
You snatch away my humility and leave me with the crumbs of shame
Your arrogance plants a grave in me…you don't notice that I desire your radiance
You ditch me with senseless remarks and you make me feel game

You ruin my modesty
You stole away my heart’s virtue
You bruise my sustaining dynasty
You complete me with rue

Your conceitedness intoxicates me…

Your arrogance underwhelm thee…
 
You unscramble my remains and insert me with the liquid of corruption
Your self-confidence leads me to never-ending fate…you disregard my joy
You handle me with maltreatment/enchantment and smudge me with your provoking expression
You crushed me with your cunning plans, now you made me hunt after my prized boy 

Your hatred penetrates me with lush, crooked trace
You swap me onto the floor, now I’m smashed into smithereens
Your smiles lose its splendor...your enlightenment gains disgrace
You disown me carelessly…now I spilled your moldering beans 

You’re imprisoned by the chains of infuriating heat,
Feeding off the crumbs of deception

Matched Each Other

Matched Each Other

While often writing and here waiting
Wondering what my mind should be relating
To some subject which will be the best
People will love forever and never detest.

Why won't poets, a comment try to make
Afraid it may cause much pain and heartache;
Worry them about my poems I have chosen
How poorly is their start as well as closing.

Many prophets and poets prefer profane
But to me this simply is only mundane
Off many walls, paths and out of thin air
With an outrageous attitude of I don't care.

Then there are tanks referred to as septic
Like poems put together that are epic
Unless writer will start paving the way
And preparing us for what he has to say.

We always grow older when age increases
And now can only absorb bits and pieces
So take your time and small doses send
Every thing will start to blend in the end.

Much of this might be subject to debate
How long does green poet have to hesitate
Before we are attracted by his anxiety
Which we have appeased by our sobriety.

Could go on and on and on even more
I like and prefer poem but you deplore
Maybe with my efforts will start to gamble
What is needed for my poems to unscramble?

End up with simple case of pick and choose;
Add more to the deluge and it can confuse;
Will follow each poet's card game golden rule
Look out for loaded deck and don't lose your cool.

Once the ground, you gently start to land
And adorable horizon just have scanned
What came your way was only fair weather
Now that minds and poems are matched together.

James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran

I don't anticipate or expect any comments regarding
this poem. Only one super duper poetry souper will
understand what I am referring to and talking about
and coming from. Won't you?
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Skittish of Prophetic Noise

‘We played wedding songs,
and you didn’t dance,
so we played funeral songs,
and you didn’t weep’

Luke 7:32b

Scribes and Pharisees, lean in.
They lean away, their fingertips at play,
nimble, with no paper cut. The pipers toot
out a jig and they scowl; then a dirge
and they skirt. Skittish of prophetic noise,
they amble for their toys and go on
walkabouts to gather up the fish
before the net goes out. Digits, hush,
or like the dastardly, wiggle about
underhandedly.

Scribes and Pharisees, at the skirt
of the Savior, don’t recognize
his mild behavior; they criticize.

Whereas, one woman chances to believe,
to receive power to be healed of her infirmity;
Pharisees harrumph to repeal - “not on the Sabbath!”

The scroll rolls out like a red carpet, snatched back up.
It is only for the designated driver to enforce.
And enforce with force, he does; take his pill.
Chill while each stays blind, lame, deaf, demonic.

The wise that hide their eyes in Jesus’ hem,
go left and right, on the narrow. Miracles
and forgiveness of hidden rose petals.

Heaven is dung to those who would rather cling
to popularity, religiosity, to their perfect life.

And what will they have at the end of the dusty trail.
No one to listen to them. Will every day be like a Sabbath,
where they aren’t allowed to pick up their mat
and escape through heaven’s gate? Yet, they shall see
the walk of their enemies, piled high smiles, the light

before darkness, fire and brimstone, hell
to be exact. Never again will they catch a glimpse
of what they lost, though they try to unscramble
their minds, lost to forever time, without a save.

Eight Letters

Eight Letters,
Put together to form three words,
All equaling something confounding.

This thing that is showing itself in the depths of my soul,
I have never seen before,
But is easily recognized.

It's talked about flippantly,
Thrown around uselessly,
And found rarely.

All I do is look inward,
Unscramble the letters,
And I know what I have found.

I'm so scared to admit it,
Though everyone, including you,
Can see it.

These unscrambled letters,
I have no choice but to acknowledge them, 
And, honestly, I want to.

ILOVEYOU

Premium Member Egg Shell Pieces

Egg shell pieces
       joined by gossamer membrane        
provided cheat sheet for 3D jigsaw puzzle
       to unscramble Humpty Dumpty.
            Women did it, when men
                 and horses failed,
	           with ten thumbs
		       and hooves
                           flayed.

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