Best Unsought Poems
Solitary sun in sapphire skies,
beams its rays upon Earth's radiance.
A tepid breeze flows between
daffodils and bluebells, gently rocking.
Spring is in the air,
yet streets remain silent.
Masked men in green suits,
bearing arms, patrol -
perturbed by unsought peace.
Anticipating unauthorised motions,
they wander past eerie emptiness -
sleeping theatres, picture less cinemas,
sober bars, childless schools and unfit gyms.
Silence is disrupted by military vehicles
occasionally startling their comrades.
Echoes of continuous coughs,
hidden behind closed curtains,
prevent even the obstinate ones,
admiring scents from rousing roses -
whose petals are not idle in isolation.
Industry of death is thriving -
undertakers undertaking, grave diggers digging.
Crematoriums fighting coffin carpenters -
whose sympathies are disguised by greed.
As humanity evolves into ashes.
In the midst of clean air,
mother nature smiles,
bathing in tranquil purity of serenity
the only fire burning is the sun.
Silent One
Simple Musing
22 March 2020
Categories:
unsought, angst, environment, hope, spring,
Form:
Alliteration
Such wondrous beauty held in eyes divine,
I wish this lovely night would stay, be kind,
So blissful are her eyes...I need no wine,
Nothing to match her beauty can I find.
The morning sun shall take away the night,
And I shall wait till moon and stars arrive,
In darkness our love hides...so harsh the light;
Our love is cursed while unsought rivals thrive.
But, when we die, forever we shall sleep,
With unseen wings we leave, fly like a dove,
Our bodies, left in ground, cruel could keep;
We'll leave all things behind except our love.
Now wait for death to mix in dust and sand,
And hope we two unite in God's own land.
May 19, 2016.
Pen A Sonnet On It - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Janis Thompson
Contest judged on : May 30, 2016
Second Chance - 4 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
The Shakespearean Sonnet is written predominantly in a meter called iambic pentameter, a rhyme scheme in which each sonnet line consists of ten syllables. The syllables are divided into five pairs called iambs or iambic feet.
Include a volta- a turn or contrast in the subject of the sonnet usually using such words as yet, but, nevertheless The Shakespearean sonnet has the rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG.
Categories:
unsought, beauty, death, desire, love,
Form:
Sonnet
you've broken me in ways I can't recount
unloved, uncherished, and unsought am I
the anguish of my soul I can't surmount
the pounding of my heart an echoed, "Why?"
You were possessed, you were obsessed with me
the sun would not go down till we had met
you claimed my eyes bewitched in fantasy
and dreams of me would leave you in a sweat
you said I was the best of women found
my beauty ravished sweetly every thought
no one like me above or on this ground
for such as I you had sincerely sought
the years unraveled and I lost my glow
no longer did my form desire ignite
the love of someone else you came to know
and so descended hope to endless night
you took away from me my fondest dreams
I came to feel much like some loathsome trash
my tears came not in droplets but in streams
as self esteem then crumbled with a crash
you did not love my soul, you did not see
my true identity, you did not love
and so I tried to be other than me
my eagle heart I veiled to be your dove
and though I try so hard, it is in vain
no word, no smile, no touch can love awake
I daily try to live with searing pain
my heart and soul for you I must forsake
you've broken me in ways I can't express
but life goes on and on, and I survive
now and again I long for love's caress
so that once more my heart can come alive
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
unsought, longing, love hurts,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
As the dusk approaches, with a fusk grunt on his face,
He realizes he has to do what's right;
To save his people from the treacherous minotaur maze,
To risk his life for people in vain.
As the sail shall not be great, he decides to travel with fate.
But truly he thinks it will be wise.
As they set off with the black flags, he promises old deer king they will change
If he survives;
With a glimmering glow from the waters below he sets sail for the island.
Miles and Miles sea after sea the destination comes nearly to a stop
With gusting winds and blushing seas, they’ve made it, at last.
While being stripped of his weapons and armor,
He notices a watching, Deer old princess of the kingdom
While her eyes glimmer at him, he looks away with unsought
Enter the Maze says one of the guards,
They all embark into the cave.
The Princess had given Theseus a sword, as he will use wisely
Standing back in the darkness the children look around,
Nothing but pitch darkness around,
Instead of staying there they decide to explore
But beware of the night before.
With a sword in his hand and rope in the other
He notices a shadow in the darkness,
The children stay back while Theseus steps forward
Confronts the beast with another step forward
With heavy breathing and death on the side
It's time for the fight he thought with a sigh.
With a Shock to the head, Theseus falls back
Gets on his feet and Shocks him back, the minotaur has been wounded
With more hits after and after the minotaur falls with a cry
Tangled in pain Theseus tanks and cut the enemy
Waiting for it to fall
To cell to the floor.
As they embark the ship again,
He comes with the princess to an island,
While he leaves her there they continue off to join the journey
To off to the king with a surprise,
Unlikely they forgot to change the sails from black
To white, so the king decides to do something unright.
The king sees the black sail and knows the worst,
With a jump, he had did
To off the cliff, he had went
So many outs he had made, while Theseus came back
And heard the news
Of the fallen king
With a joust, he had did
With a celebration understood
The newly king has been awakened
But something wasn't right,
All that night he thought of his father
Sitting and pondering with gonder.
©ChandlerFisher_2017
Categories:
unsought, cheer up, fantasy, happiness,
Form:
Rhyme
I lie trying to read, but my heart maunders
as the rain taps at my red eyes window pane.
The loneliness niggles as my mind ponders.
My spirit empty as the hourglass shatters.
God give me silence from the weight grip of pain.
Bleakness devouring days lying in tatters;
music of my soul evaporates like smoke.
Unsought tears finally run somewhere and drain
in between the illness of old age to choke.
Where are the children I use to entertain?
6/8/2018
Poetry Contest: Rhyme Time 4- 10 Lines'
Sponsored By: Laura Loo
?Write a 10 line poem using rhyme scheme: A-B-A-C-B-C-D-B-D-B
?1.) Empty as the hourglass shatters
Categories:
unsought, age, heartbroken, old, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
KOMOREBI
The Land Where Poems Are Made
Chorus chords of
Sounds mutter, iambically
Especially forming tongues throughout the ages
To give birth to rhyme in metered rages
Ancient rants, bellow from the depths
Of hollowed souls, needing to be refueled
As a lamp that all too quickly burned its wick.
So, yes, I toss and turn with loads, puns unsought
And words, dance wildly in my sleepless mind.
Yet, drifting bass-backwards through the woods,
and weeds of thought.
Ah yes, I am chasing dreams and nightmares too.
Hoping doors will open in the whimsical worlds in time.
That I may be the wise woman that writes the poem;
Whose poetic flute plays the tunes that pied the poets’ minds
Mimes leading them to that open space-
Where the light shines through the cove of trees;
Where ditties and missives, are the leaves that glisten.
Where rhymes, and poems nod and dance in the breeze,
And hang like wisdom’s fruit off grand poetic trees.
We pluck, we eat, we deliver that which we seek to write.
Remembering KOMOREBI
… We then finally, peacefully, now spirit-filled, we sleep.!
Categories:
unsought, beauty, inspiration, inspirational, light,
Form:
Verse
To fave or not to fave, is that the question
Whether ‘tis nobler to remain silent
To hurl faint praise and fortune
Suffer the pangs of outrageous doubt
Or take up arms against a sightless algorithm
And by opposing them. ..To try – to sleep,
No more: amid the angst of glory’s glut
To write, perchance to dream, now there’s the rub
For on that page what words may come
When we have shuffled off this muse’s toil
Must give us pause --- Where’s the respect
That make calamity of so long a write.
For who would bear the whims of AI scorn
Challenge the oppressor’s right or wrong
The pangs of twisted words now on display
The insolence the words themselves convey
The patient merit the unworthy take
With muted words a silenced voice to bare
To grunt and swear at writing’s dreary life
Ominous tomes unread ‘til after death
Discovered on the yellowed pages torn
By heirless patrons puzzling the will
Makes us cherish still the words we have
Than search for others that we know not of
Thus, conscience comes before the coward’s fall
And thus, the furtive pen seeks retribution
“Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought”.
And pages filled with pith and frozen moment
Without regard are read by minds awry
And lose an unsought gain
//My sincerest apology to Shakespeare and his minions//
Categories:
unsought, fun, humor, poetry, poets,
Form:
Free verse
I can see you through your hell.
Heaven doth mock you until you spill.
Just like old friends,
Hand in hand,
We bled.
Tame the shrew,
Untouched by filth
And rob her as she shrills.
All the while,
I’m spiraling
A disease that makes everything unwell,
Smiling through the kinks,
You undyingly dwell.
What’s an angel to do
When no one can love you?
Why does it have to be this way?
Clouds pass thee hence,
Dark neighboring expense;
Why are you this way?
Master you will...
Pay me through your blood lead dense.
Does it weigh you down today?
You’ll find a perfect place to go
Where you can die.
Ash torn ember will be your grave.
Judgment hath remembered how far you’ve gone,
A distance,
Unwarily unsought,
Somberly carried;
It’s with one last message I leave you….
Suffer and weary.
.
Categories:
unsought, angst, death,
Form:
Short Poem
Things That Last
By: miracle man
1/4/2021
Precious things aren’t built or bought,
but originate from within one’s self.
A kiss or affectionate touch unsought,
is beyond items found on a dusty shelf.
Categories:
unsought, blessing, dedication, emotions, love,
Form:
Lyric
Hidden though unsought
Ran from myself
Still got caught.
Mind, Body, Soul wrought.
Vengeance no longer mine
And yet I insist to ungently reside
Within the "desperate to love or to be" walls of my own heart.
Most continue to disrespect my house
Yes, I live in my heart
I refuse stubbornly to give in or give up
Forcing my belligerent mouth to remain shut.
Gritting my teeth praying to abstain running away.
The displeasing words that knock on the back of the smile; forced
With an impatient desire to allow angry words to spill out, onto the floor, into their eyes until they can't see out.
I will still love them all-despite my incessant desire for it to cease
If only "just barely" were enough.
It feels like that's all they're willing to gift me.
Tolerated!?
I've given what I felt I was given to hold, multiplied by more.
Alone is so cold even with 10 winter coats on.
Fortuna Audaces Iuvat
Trying to remain strong-strong.
My whirling mind assaults the clock that won't stop
Possibly because I feel as I'm perceived. Intuitively.
Not just due to self-definition
Expected only to lie, a true story's falsity
Never believed causing my heart's soul to exude profusely.
It's how it's always been-their denial tastes like reprieve
They just tolerate me, my song on repeat?
"Why can't I feel like I belong?"
I want their truest heart minus their pity.
Categories:
unsought, absence, abuse, anger, anxiety,
Form:
Metrical Tale
the foreplay and afterglow
isforgotten in the show
of virility and might
so she cries into the night
She's uncherished and unsought
All his tenderness forgot
In the rush of passion's need
Fantasies remain....unfreed
She remembers yesteryear
When he clasped her, held her dear
Now she's just a bedded form
Lost in her desire's storm
With a sigh her closes eyes
dreams her dreams of paradise
where her love she celebrates
and her wants she consummates
Where she smiles in wanton bliss
as she's bathed in lover's kiss
in a place where fertile mind
intercourse with body finds
where foreplay and afterglow
build up to climactic show
and love pounds with wondrous might
leaving joyous tears in sight
Eileen
This is the case for many in long term relationships. Relationships should be nurtured for the flame to burn bright.
Categories:
unsought, love, relationship,
Form:
Rhyme
These buttons up and down your chest,
so close to you they felt your breath
all day as you hurried for work;
rounded studs so near me , I ache
holding them now that you are gone.
I never gave the pearly shells
much attention through the long nights,
except to stitch them extra well
to save myself hours if they fell.
I ironed all around them, washed
this shirt for long deadlines unsought
and wept for precious moments lost.
These buttons up and down your chest,
undone while we loved through moonlight;
I rub them now for your funeral…
and find their clasp,miserable.
----------
7/23/2015
Silent One's Moods Contest
Write Me Sad
Categories:
unsought, bereavement, clothes, love,
Form:
Rhyme
By happenstance, I found you
And my once empty, sullen heart
Filled to the brim with ecstasy
Hurray for happy accidents!
Dismally sad and blue was I
One jet-black day, then I walked
Outdoors, and voila! A goldmine
In the sky...sunshine
I searched up and down
Terra firma for gold; tearing cobwebs
Out of long unvisited nooks and crannies
And I stumbled upon a glistening diamond
I perambulated through footpaths
Of life, just minding my business
Suddenly I unearthed a jewel
Touched by the gods...happiness
I treaded uncharted far-flung places
Along the way, I discovered an
Unsought hidden treasure...love
Hurray for happy accidents!
Date written: 04/05/2016
Categories:
unsought, destiny, life, love, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Be ready for the futures that await;
The battle really lost is that not fought:
For no one is exempted from their fate.
Whatever plans we chalk upon the slate
Are easily erased, but still we ought
Be ready for the futures that await.
Some outcomes we are sure to execrate,
Yet still we can’t escape what life has brought,
For no one is exempted from their fate.
And life demands that we participate:
Those lessons profit most which come unsought.
Be ready for the futures that await.
No matter if the path is bent or straight,
We can’t elude the net wherein we’re caught:
For no one is exempted from their fate.
We may object, rebel or agitate;
But time, once passed, can never be unwrought.
Be ready for the futures that await:
For no one is exempted from their fate.
Categories:
unsought, appreciation, destiny, fate, growth,
Form:
Villanelle
Oh Sweet Island! Thou tropical paradise:
Miles have I traced upon thy ceaseless reach
Of ocean-choked shorelines owed Heav’nly device
Sheltering I, this marooned guest on thine endless beach.
Safe House against left alone misery;
Whereby, alongside thine evergreen canopies full
Darwinian mysteries perched high atop their home,
Do I maintain nourished in flesh ‘n faculty
And keep this wit sharpened when blunted dull
Should become elements awash reduced but to roam;
Added all, all for sake of thine increased covenance,
That keener my eyes and keener my tongue
When my throat succumbs thine euphoric abundance;
Pink spilled over warmth -
Else-wise myself, by self, selfishly by now would’ve hung;
For if not for that which is thy sun (may thy sun also hear praise)
My sight might yet be withheld those rare flockish friends
Who keep in time the shared sweetness of functioning words;
Therefore to thee, and to they of thee, whom of wing’ed realm I appraise
As reason unsought are frenzied neurotic ends;
True thanks directed thee and thy mystic splendors; thy talking birds.
Alas, sadly, not even thou distills lunar ascensions
By which subside hopeful rays in thy sobering night;
Nor be those which aviate above as homing pigeons
With beaks to carry silent pleas where may come ends to my plight.
Thus, this I ask thee; What good is time spent when time’s spent alone?
Yes, thou provides: plentiful shelter, plentiful warmth, plentiful food
As well as fiery fuel to fend off critters of strife –
But, this be thy kingdom, not mine. Here, I sit on a remembered throne
Where days threaten months threatened by years in which strangers brood –
Oh, Sweet Warden; Relinquish me! I beg thee on behalf of slipping sanity;
Let this rambling sentence end
So I, once again, may stand by my daughter and wife.
1/28/2017
Submitted for: Tropical Island
Categories:
unsought, loneliness,
Form:
Ode