Best Unstirred Poems
Memory burns the kettle black. It bursts.
Broth slides as cream sticks to the stove's hot eye.
Emptiness gathers on a spoon, unstirred.
Dinner is runned out on in a quick blur.
Yesterday's coating is on my tongue's cry.
Memory burns the kettle black. It bursts.
The room's chills left there hold me within brrs.
How could melted icecubes still subtly bite?
Emptiness gathers on a spoon, unstirred.
I flow like a desert's sandpaper thirst.
The watered taste is hardened by stark light.
Memory burns the kettle black. It bursts.
A wait in this loveache becomes curdled.
Please, hold me, all my scars don't feed it right.
Emptiness gathers on a spoon, unstirred.
Where a cleaning chore, inside only shirk.
The warmth in my bubble is a goodbye.
Memory burns the kettle black. It bursts.
Emptiness gathers on a spoon, unstirred.
Existentially you think
you know me
having eaten a slice
of my mind
delicious you think
the bubbling froth
of this poetry
peppered with sprinkles
of rising undertones
the sugar depth charged
unstirred, yet
touch the lip of my cup
you’d feel the burn
the tongue means to speak
unhoneyed
the kiss stings
the pain
swollen
and
sweet
Candide Diderot. '24
Insomnia, familiar friend,
crawled into bed this summer night
so once again, inflamed with dread
I wander now in pitch of dark
and touch the places, now by heart, that sprawl unstirred by weary minds
This lonely place, where I used to come
where armless grief, and headless doubt
and worry filled the rooms
I know you cold, my land of oz
So ruthless do you change your face
into a place I once refrained
But, don't pretend to make me fear, toxic robber of my sleep
I've known you much too long
You masquerade in shades of gray
And now I know that dark of night, is not the blackest thing
And room by room, I'll play the game
until the light of day
The shadows magnify your art
and though they magnify my loss of sleep
and while I've tossed and turned in vain
I've lost the lonely albatross
that pulled against the grain
From hooded thresholds I embark
to find a language of the dark
A liquid language of a mystic night,
that switches on the light
I've walked the halls of ghosts I knew, and those I hope to meet
I've felt the stares, and shared myself, no secrets left to keep
But not tonight, familiar friend
you bask in myth I understand
I'll fill the tasks that need my hands, until the light of day...
---------------
For Leonora Galinta's Contest
Stop for a moment, to only admire
The wondrous, warm world, where I do reside;
These gigantic trees do serve to inspire,
Notice the beauty, with nothing to hide.
The golden orb shines through neon-clear leaves,
From the canopy falls a single drop
Of dew that is unstirred by any breeze,
landing on my palm with a tiny 'plop'.
Next is the meadow, so spacious and fair,
Filled with daffodils, and fat buzzing bees.
This fantastic scene, tends Nature with care,
Yet Home must I go, now back to the trees,
For with this family, I must be sure,
Found at Home to make a nice, hot breakfast,
Since my love for them, is ever so pure,
So I bid farewell, as I'm Home at last.
The grasses were the first to arrive
Sprouting slowly all around me
Hardly more than enough to sway in the hushed wind
Steady, steady they rose to shroud him
Days became a flooding of months
Still he lay where he had fallen
Silent, barely moving to breathe
Empty inside
Like his eyes echoing his heart
Beyond despondency he lay
The grasses parted to give way to the rise of trees
Struggling under the rainless skies to climb ever higher
And they did all around him
Reaching higher to touch the cloudless skies
Still he lay hardly moving
Silent as the gentle swept wind
Hallowing through the canopy of many leaves
That filtered light down across him
And no shadow did he cast
For he was empty
Bereft inside
Adrift
The years became decades and in turn they to gave way
To centuries while he lay still where he had fallen
Rains came and went, fell into snows
And gone again many times as seasons rose to fall away
Giving birth to a pond become lake and finally a sea yawning
Endlessly save for his island of trees and grasses
But he would not move
He would not stir from his place
The spot where he had fallen
Hollowed like his heart
Barely moving to breathe
His eyes never closing
Never blinking
He lay there . . . he lies there still
Unstirred by time, nor day, nor night
Unmoved by life all around him
Alone on his island in the forlorn sea
Where the trees sway quietly
And the tall grasses shush
In the murmuring wind
To fall with a hush into night
For his heart echoes deeply inside one breath of love
NINJA CAT
Zoph was two people not the same
Daughter’s darling, harmless, even to mice.
Schitzophrenia was his middle name;
And out in Zophland not too nice.
Her cat relaxed, stretched, purred
Front paws on her lap, free,
Poured himself on the sofa unstirred
Gently kneading along her knee.
Who dared to enter Zophland at night?
Neighbour’s cat, a ginger cringer:
Cat howls whined before the fight
Zoph struck with speed of Ninja.
Ginger backed off and ran
Better part of valour.
Ruining the cringer’s plan,
Zoph chased off his frightened pallour.
Milk now and then more sofa -
Daughter's knee and purr again.
The challenge to his land is over
Zoph’s two kingdoms are his to reign.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Yasmin Khan's Contest Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde
A sojourn took me to a beautiful sandy shore
Dreams abounding that I could be
Like any other child I had read about
To pile up all the sand in my view
And build my multitude of dreams
That I believed would turn into reality
With every passing day
In an open box I placed a wooden board
That I had carried along
I built a cottage and not a castle
For I knew I was no queen
From the jasmine sellers I bought a garland
To demarcate my pristine garden
Two ice cream sticks were the sentinels
Guarding the gate
A few shells, some of which were half broken
Made a passage to the open door
Neither the heat spell nor the burning skin
Deterred me from completing my dream
With the dimming hues of the sunlight
I carefully shut my world in the sandbox
We travelled back home with my eyes focussed
Only on the box lying unstirred in my lap
On reaching home I placed it on my table
Tears streamed down non-stop
To see the wilted jasmine flowers
Crushed under the debris of my home
With swollen eyes I lay in bed
Sniffling every now and then
And it was then that I awakened
To the strong smell of jasmines
Reviving in me to re-build my dreams
Tomorrow I would build a more stable home.......
October 14, 2016
For Anthony Slausen
for my Father
My father is as noiseless as the bird,
Transfixed upon his pirouetting bob,
To angle fish his self-appointed job,
He speaks with silence. It is his every word.
Mirror to him, voiceless and unstirred,
The heron stiffens, ready to make hob
Among the flitting silver swimming mob.
Beaking his prey, he leaves the water blurred.
He rises like a spirit from the lake
to seek his nest, crowning a cypress tree,
At the utmost reach of my pursuing eyes.
Dad passed today. Contented with his take,
his creel pegged out, my father sought his quay
Eternal, at a height I can't surmise.
Beauty is an ethereal mother
That’s elegant touch
Showers sweet, freed water
Distilling the very strangles
Of a gripped heart.
Its kiss bathes your lungs
In a silk freshness
And softens the folds
In coiled palms.
And in life we can hide from nothing.
A mother comes
As gently as her absence
Where she drifts,
And you hang, a free arm
On the banister,
Squatting down from the shadows
Making checks on the carpet
And learning how to stand.
A latch turns
And you dissolve the floors
Into a cushioned spill
Praying that this is the norm,
Praying you remain unstirred
And that there comes no dawn.
And in life we can hide from nothing.
The search for beauty
Is one of worth.
Where you breathe in each shade
That presses hands against
Scratched window panes
And stare the nothingness
With both eyes
And open heart.
When the howl of a dog
Sounds through your mobile,
And you listen,
And you wait,
And you work with full embrace.
For another glance
At the ethereal,
Before it turns as gently
As it comes.
UNRUFFLED
Citadel on the rocky mountain stair
Stood gazing changing seasons in the air
Each passing year its bosom filled with tales of plenty shades
Of Knights, of Queens, of Foes, of Prince ,Of Comrades
The twilight swallowed into aimless dusky mope
The sunrise of success, the alpenglow of hope
The defeats, the dull spell like the melancholy of autumn
The phase of loneliness, feel of sinking to the bottom
The thunderstorm’s blitzkrieg of insults, insinuations
The snowflakes of blessings, blooming love sensations
The silvery shine of moon with its healing chime
The rainbow of celebrations manifesting change of time
All these shades painted together a seasoned picture
To manifest into Unicorn with poise and graceful tincture
The reflection of which is unstirred in water crystal clear
For rifts are not let to surge , peace and purity is held dear
Internal ripples are tranquilized to welcome nights of calm
To drift the soul into peaceful slumber like a soothing balm!
~Copyright ANULAXMI, 2016~
23rd December 2016
A land far far away
With its great splendid
The daylight that brightens the way
Thrived passing all the dry seasons
Nothing,but a tree on the wayside
Had brought significance to the land
Deep beneath the soil it's roots abide
Stands tall for people to see
A shelter to the birds of the air
And the beast of the earth
Moreover the storms did it bear
Lo,there it stands unstirred
There on the roots sprouted a plant
Yet,nothing could ever see
Grew with water so scant
But ungrugitate the wealth of the tree
For all the stroams that hit
And floods that made it drowned
Was it safe under it
It grew and grew
Not long did it last
Soon was the tree cut
Left alone weeping in the dust
Laid the plant
O what happy days under the sun did it think
Had it become to late to realize
There lying dead,the young plant
I.
A ring imbued with love
Is the gift we both have
Circle and boundless
Unharmed by ages
That may our love
Retain the passion
we have always had
Keep the flame
Burning in our heart
Like the ring’s
Undying gleam
May the golden ring’s
Unscathed gleam
Be an inspiration
To the usual
Fleeting feelings
II.
Let us trek together
In the path of time
Along the way
It may lacerate
Our ephemeral form
But our bond’s strength
Made out of firm
thread of our love
And woven
By our passion and faith
Will remain unstirred
And tie forever in our hearts
As we trudge our way
To eternal lands
Embers glow from the memory of a flame
Burning red hot – at the whisper of her name
Hoping that she too, must somehow feel the same
And forever, inside, burning embers shall remain
A heart, once on fire, keeping souls immersed in heat
For a chance to burn again and lustfulness repeat
Embers left unstirred will surely soon burn out
But a soft, gentle breeze and fire again will start to sprout
My embers burn for you from the night that we once shared
Engulfed in love’s flames; throwing caution to the air
Combustible lust – other lovers should beware
My embers only burn for the girl with golden hair
by Joe Flach - 2/4/2013. Written for the Burning Embers contest.
Heavy the hoods of the eyes
that laboured the scan of horizons
Heavy the course of the thoughts
that sat unstirred on the sill of the stare
Heavy this ancient bottomed nose
sitting in judgment over this meat
Endlessly shunting the frenzied workers
now sniff-drunk and steam-bellowed in the street
This the scull careered through rutted scars
the primeval hair bushed in pathways
Where long tribes with long lances
prod the undergrowth for signs of lost bones
These the ears that heard the wake of worlds
wandering in the ever irretraceable tread
Ears though that admit the silent secrets
ever still and hospitable to the panicky refrain
This the assembled machinery, forging fire
have dropped the tongs
Down the corridors of investigation
hurtling in darkening diseases
These the loins, companion of time
stalked through fire, filth, and foam
Baked in the hot ovens of empires
wearied some morning in blurry depredation
Wobble-eyed, knee-tied, dragged with pacing company
through yesterdays that are forever lost indemnity
Heavy the larvae lipped throb, kiss and consider
heavy the molten strata ooze, consider and kiss
These the organs that prodded nations
and shrivelled up to curse them all in pain
Pursed its potency, convulsed the course of the vein
this the dismembered member of the tribe
Heavy, alas, these feet that thump
jog and reel in the dancing rhythm of millenniums
Trod on the will-less face of faiths
twitched their toes and walked their way
©: T. Wignesan, 1957 (from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
A dawn born
growing into morn
A life is led
a soul is fed
No truth to divine
as blind to any sign
Sounds unheard
feels unstirred
Wind and breeze
to weather and appease
Guided by a Hand
even with a taken stand
Divine powers of no limit
none to stand against kismet
The mystery of the beyond
a wave of an angelic wand
Silent stars in outer space
ignite light on Earth face
A voice I now could hear
the signs are quite clear
Time to the soul brace
and pray for God’s grace.