Best Unstated Poems
Between the lines of Poetry Soup
Lies partly hidden the real scoop
Poets with emotion’s overflow
Spillage of which, they do not know
Leaks between lines of what they write
Discerning souls, bring them to light
Fellow poets with the same disease
Wanting to love, wanting to please
Can read between the lines so fair
And see love affairs recorded there
And secrets longings all scream out
Though unstated, there is no doubt
Which poet is in love with whom
Which affair is destined to bloom
Clear to read Love’s Richter scale
The in between codes, never fail
Poems present and poems past
Love or friendship, which will last?
Terms of endearment, every one
Is a love song that can not be sung
Between the lines, you can’t deny
Is where love affairs are flying high
For we are poets one and all
Programmed, it seems, in love to fall…
With people whose words do ignite
Who caress the soul with sheer delight
Chorus:
Between the lines
Between the lines
The love is there
Between the lines
The long standing and hidden pain
The hints of a love gone insane
Between the lines
Between the lines
YOUR love is there
Between the lines.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
unstated, jealousy, passion, poetry,
Form:
Couplet
They spoke in a singular language
A language none but they could know
She with the moonlight in her eye
He with the hush of fallen snow
They moved with a slow beginning
By the light of the rising moon
In the night on the white of the snow
To the sound of an ancient tune
They hummed alone – And they carried
About themselves a certain weight
That some might possibly dismiss
As being neither small nor great
And yet to them, these two, on the move
With unstated purpose pressing
Upon their steps, each weary step
A symbol of their load un-lessened
Bore witness to their anxious plight –
And wherefore did they travel, and what from
That required they steal silently
Across the tundra on the run?
Was it a secret they alone
Could share, and with none other
But the moon and the shifting snow
And the misty night for cover?
Of this they spoke in muted silence
In a language only they could know
She with the moonlight in her eye
He with the hush of fallen snow
Categories:
unstated, journey, language, moon, silence,
Form:
Rhyme
Breaking ground, well trodden path,
boiling cauldron of troubles past.
Injecting theories, humanities veins,
cryptic messages to dispatch.
Puzzling pieces, testing fit,
exploit emotions, effects are best.
Impel the masses, blind ignorance,
dismiss dissenters from public view,
construct the stories, elected few.
Orchestrate, a mind control,
obedient throngs, the unstated goal.
Categories:
unstated, fear, political, power,
Form:
Free verse
James McKee Rogers
1836 – 1900
I offer up this epitaph as an ode instead,
An ode of love, affection and gratitude
To Whittier, my true home away from my one true home.
I dedicate this plain and humble song
To finding this paradise in the mustard fields
To finding peace and serenity in these kindly hills here,
Hills shaded by a thousand trees
In truth, trees planted for purposes unstated and unspoken,
Trees used for hiding the human follies and frolics
Of my brothers and sisters in the faith
Acts of hidden intimacies not seen by the eyes of the Quaker elders.
My friends, you cannot imagine the beauty of the sunrise
Here in my beloved Whittier
The erect beauty of one particular sunrise
On a summer’s morning in 1889.
I remember Hattie and me riding double in the heights
Scanning the far-away Pacific blue
Scanning the infinite translucence of a million heartbeats.
Down, down the ever-spreading, ever-descending landscape.
Up there in the heights we found a special magic,
Found the crash of cymbals and the bang of a thousand drums!
Found the flight of a thousand eagles and
The stampede of a hundred wild horses!
And so my friends, and
To Whittier, I say adieu!
Adieu and goodbye to a life of repeating days and nights
Of forgotten repeating conversations
With dozens of old friends now dead and gone.
The worms of Clark Cemetery know them all
Know of the hidden intimacies not seen by the living.
They have found propitiation for the sins of mankind.
Categories:
unstated, death,
Form:
Epitaph
to friend or not to friend, that is not the question
I'll be damned but I'm game
These facts cannot be left unstated
whether it is right to suffer
the lingering stings of speculative moments
or just to click the button and add
and in much suspense wait to be accepted...
... to like, to delete, to poke....
no more and by delete to say we end
the heartache and the thousand natural shocks
from endless notifications,
Some to block and others promote
and escalate to instagram and skype
and grab a chance to live in style
true to form, you thought i wouldn't have known
oh, don’t say why, we all need
to like, to be liked
to inbox perchance to receive, eh, that is the dream
for in that one message pleasant realities may come
when one will have updated one’s status
attempting to prompt a response
hoping friends will like
there is the mistake
that turns to a disaster all of Facebook romance
for who could bear the responses of a lover's ex,
friends with benefits would pour disdain
on the ceaseless updates amounting to silly display
you two get an inbox, they'd say,
but from inbox and chat many shy away,
too much paper trail along the way
so, thus stated, still lingers the question paused
from the very first breath this poem has known
to friend or not to friend,
if yes, to what extent,
if not, then what is the next step?
Categories:
unstated, confusion, crush, introspection, poets,
Form:
Ode
Life's greatest heated human tragedy
the one we are likely taught not to see.
Our wide-ranging worlds are well connected,
as atoms wiggle we're all effected.
Separation is optic illusion
a fitting end to one's soul seclusion.
Gurus say I am you and you are me,
that's the way it's supposed to be.
If I am Abe, Alice, Aron, Abu;
are they really me, how can that be true?
One respects collective society,
pledges to individuality.
It's in us to foster global good will
hold high hopes for oneness not to stand still.
Compassion is the real eternal key,
the single most important reality.
In the rays of moonlight truth shines so clear
allays all our unstated oneness fear.
When face to face, touch hands to then embrace;
stand up, stand in, alone and take your place.
So don't be offput by any confusion;
you're not separate, it's an illusion.
Lots of wisdoms will surely come to pass
while we lay lulling the scent of sweetgrass.
167 words 24 lines couplets
Reference: Albert Einstein quote, "The greatest tragedy
of human existence is the illusion of separateness"
Reference: Robin Wall Kimmerer, "Braiding Sweetgrass"
author, indigenous scientist, native American
Reference: Dalai Lama, teaches the importance
of compassion practice
Reference: Thomas Merton quote, "We are already one.
But we imagine that we are not."
Pen illustration by G. Gaul
September 2022
Categories:
unstated, allusion, humanity, philosophy, science,
Form:
Couplet
Aggravation waited.
Health always debated.
Material things created.
Mental capacity unstated.
History always elated.
Final breath is fated.
Future is overrated.
Partners never sated.
Love cannot be slated.
Compassion will be desecrated.
Desire falsely translated.
Life is overly stated.
From the day we are created.
While we are all interrelated,
We continually face each other abated
Awaiting our dignity to be dictated,
We fail each other blindly sedated.
If we are lucky we go through life conjugated.
Categories:
unstated, death, depression, devotion, faith,
Form:
Monorhyme
All poems
lamenting starlight
shines reflecting,
a polar of others
unwelcome vim
When soft breezes
Brush my face
I want to know
that unpolluted
celestial objects
will reflect
from your eyes
I need to know
across a chasm
of time, a smile
of tranquility
will greet me
I know none that
will cross rivers
of sweet dream pools
Lapping loveliness,
Moments and minutes
have Channels routed
to blind the soul
as I walk through
forests of shadow
leaves become
still life, upon
my downed breast
I am adrift in
lingered lightning
atoms of the universe
will forever sing in me,
as known as time
as free as death
as I am of the sea
Songs lament
Sadness repents
and no tomorrows
never more promised
darkness unstated nature
that light would hide fear
as darkness cradles
Courage
As sunlight
shows me timed day
the night
unveils timeless stars
Categories:
unstated, beautiful, mystery, night, stars,
Form:
Free verse
Between the lines of Poetry Soup
Lies partly hidden the real scoop
Poets with emotion’s overflow
Spillage of which, they do not know
Leaks between lines of what they write
Discerning souls, bring them to light
Fellow poets with this "disease"
Wanting to love, wanting to please
Can read between the lines so fair
And see love affairs written there
And secret longings all scream out
Though unstated, there is no doubt
Which poet is in love with whom
And which affair will surely bloom
Clear to read Love’s Richter scale
The in between codes, never fail
Poems present and poems past
Love or friendship, now which will last?
Terms of endearment, every one
Is a love song that can't be sung
Between the lines, you can’t deny
Affairs of heart are flying high
For we are poets one and all
Programmed, it seems, in love to fall…
With those whose words can so ignite
Who touch our souls with sheer delight
Chorus:
Between the lines
Between the lines
The love is there
Between the lines
The long standing and hidden pain
The hints of love that's gone insane
Between the lines
Between the lines
YOUR love is there
Between the lines.
Eileen Manassain
Categories:
unstated, community, poetry,
Form:
Couplet
Riotous revellers' laughter drifts up from their apricot lit late night haunts, four cafes are notoriously avoided venues for overindulgent consumption of alcohol.
Across the street, from my thirtieth floor apartment window, remote portrait of bodies bent enthralled over their beers,
toads on stools at mushroom stem tables.
Flicker of forbidden recognition crosses my cortex,
- I'm a resident of Broadwater Tower now.
Unstated policy prohibits proximity with riff raff.
Our bar ensures we wear careful attire,
floor gleams mirror marble.
Chrome and cracked leather oud absorbs expensive scents.
Ladies laughter upscale conflicts the low fading mens' vocal.
Tipsy sensation enhanced by deck docked
rolling prestigious flagpole chiming yachts.
Over the road, neolithic neon signs post grotesque cafe names,
Salivate, Green Grotto among them.
Customers come from squat squashed suburbs,
five minute drive away.
Dive bar dark sparks alcoholic amphibians unremarkable bravado.
January holiday season sees sardines huddled heartily under awnings, abandoning next morning necessity.
24th February 2023
151 words
Written for Contest: Four Cafes
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Categories:
unstated, character, fashion,
Form:
Prose
EXPRESSIONIST EKPHRASIS
Something so inexpressible,the
challenge of everyday,sparks a
chord so vivid from an uncontrolled
inner drive.This message beyond
memory,the unstated void
distilling the hidden essence of
our yesterday’s buried in today
Listen to me read this ekphrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro
Categories:
unstated, art,
Form:
Verse
Trite foot soldier status lacking
Pedigree earned by under stress not cracking
Anonymous ward of the state with little backing
Nameless face sent into the infernal abyss hacking
On unstated mission sent packing
In an unknown, unfamiliar field bivouacing
An amorphous, invisible foe tracking
Without reserve an unidentified conscript attacking
On an obscure plain flailing and whacking
Unseen rifles and cannons above the tumult clacking
Unnoticed, soldier falls during the shellacking
Body hurriedly pushed into unmarked grave after the sacking
Unacclaimed minion; no metals racking
Categories:
unstated, dedicationsoldier,
Form:
Rhyme
Still Life for Words in C Sharp Minor
They strolled the shady avenues
under a noon sun in the summer,
smelling the emergent gardenia bulbs
spinning maniacally in their mastery;
so they gathered up the white flowers
with practiced deliberate fingers,
bringing them to their stuffy noses,
to breathe in their exhalations of perfume spice.
They ventured askew with unstated intent,
roused by infinite atoms within,
to an open screen door,
wherein they saw intense sunlit explosions,
filtering through as determined light creatures,
and pulled through moaning space
for a secret rendezvous,
a shady sojourn of weird curiosities,
enacted behind a single closed door,
and other astonishments never before seen,
much less imagined.
These invisible wisps have entered in now,
with their practiced rituals and protocols,
known only to the obscure and the crazy.
They seek to find a still darkness;
Instead, they receive a green carpet,
stretching from room to room,
with old worn furniture gawking,
leads them to the regal dining room where
a crystal chandelier made of dull glass
hangs limply from the pale ceiling.
And flashing cloudless before them,
a curtained-spreading window,
exposing for the both to see,
a wide angular swath,
of shimmering gardenia blossoms.
Categories:
unstated, romance,
Form:
Free verse
an inner conflict dust brew
within this scribe, who offers ye to chew
(like sweet treats metaphorically) thee do
tee incumbent, when Doomsday clock
counts down minutes few
according Al Gore rhythm
unstoppably ticking,
when life gets turned to global goo
tenderized viz Doctor Zeus
if not Horton Hears Hoo
then most definitely The Lorax
(couching urgent morals underscored
by satellite photographs
showing melting icecaps or igloos,
which planetary sos, sans in extremis
requires joint effort of Gentile and Jew,
plus every other sectarian credo,
dogma, ethos...knew
clear family, and whatnot
to become linkedin with Linda Loo
yes, we moost not forget
Old McDonald with his moo
moo there bovine creatures
agedly hobbling along, or new
lee born, cuz juiced one day
per three hundred and sixty five
(six with leap year -
to appease ghost oh Rachel Carson
imagine dragons festooned leotard
with brand name Oroblu)
or poor ole Whinny The Pooh
eternally stuck in Rabbit's
hole sum Hutch as a queue
doth loosely form dreaming up and rue
mien hating solution
(burning the midnight oil) true
lee trying to remedy plight
of said bear character,
perhaps unstated message being woo
king in tandem solutions to resolve
wretched condition of world wide web
possible by bridging differences
between me and you, and you, and you...
Categories:
unstated, 12th grade, 5th grade,
Form:
Light Verse
It's Nothing
by Amy Swanson 12/2008
Lost in my thoughts
you ask me
what's wrong
(I hate that question)
I smile and say "It's nothing"
but really it's something...
The sum of far too many nothings
that sometimes knock
on my spirit's door.
Totality of all the
grandly glaring
loudly unsaid things
that build the wall
(we hide behind)
that is between us.
Memories of hurt
that you don't even see
or maybe you refuse to see.
Memories of hurt
I've tried to erase
but like a stubborn stain
they will not go away
So many things
that should be said
between you and I...
but never are.
A simple question
is precursor
to
loneliness
emptiness
misunderstanding
And so...
when you ask,
I know just what to say.
It's nothing.
Time has taught
that telling you
my fears
my worries
only cause an angry hurt between us.
And so...
I simply leave it
unstated.
It's nothing.
But there are times
when all these things
come crashing into me
(so strong)
like waves descending violently
upon some far away, sandy shore
Why won't you see?
Why do you refuse to see?
But
in time
the pain subsides,
retreating to the furthest
corners of my mind, my soul
waiting for the time
when they will
surface yet
again.
Never mind me.
Everything is fine.
I'm just lost in my thoughts...
Really.
It's nothing.
Categories:
unstated, angst, depression, girlfriend-boyfriend, husband,
Form:
Free verse