Best Untangles Poems
When the Goddess of aroma
graces my caffeinated soul,
her milky quartz crown
shines in shades
of ineffable pleasures.
Invigorating arabica stars within
my senses to rise
like steamy silhouettes~
laced in seraphic
aura of lotus chastity….
If coffee personifies
the electrifying taste
of my longing soul,
will fruity scents stir,
to evoke hidden
metaphors within this
mocha heart?
I’ll sketch
decaffeinated skies
with roasted beans
of brunette bliss.
Let colors of the
golden sun splatter
harmonious hues
of cosmic sanctity.
I’ll embrace the
aromatic elixir of life,
brewed with
floral hints of faith~
allowing unfiltered
essence of
meaningless mornings,
to reawaken an undying
thirst to illuminate
fading stardust.
Quenching serenity
from granulated values,
that depict
karmic kismet
across divine rivers
flowing with
spiritual awakening.
Perhaps, with every
sip of espresso,
we indulge a scoop of
cocoa gratitude,
expressing the
inner purity,
while happiness pours
into a crystal clear cup
of constant clarity.
There the light
of cinnamon
oozes amidst the
cleansed canvas of life,
to rescript an
ethereal ingredient
that guides us back to
a realm of rosier runes,
where ego has no palette
to rest upon,
for within us dwells
an immortal barista,
concocting healing drips
from caramelized visions.
I’ll hold on to these
unexplored cravings,
while the liberty of
conscience remains~
the first ray of
warmth I inhale.
When daylight befalls like
tints of tuscan tiramisu,
let me find the strength
to lure pale pigments
of weeping wind~
I’ll be the thread
that untangles unsettling
webs wrapped in
bitter breezes,
for the king of solace
and I, will become one;
celestially intertwined,
infused in bronze ink,
as one in a million flavors.
Categories:
untangles, poetry, poets,
Form:
Free verse
Blackberry Memoir
Blackberries, round and glossy,
Always invite me to return
To dusty country summer afternoons
When languid waves of mirages
Puddle into shimmering hiatus.
From the gently swaying hammock
I hear the rattle of berry pails
To see my grandmother, in her straw hat,
Smile an invitation - come with her
Into the wild blackberry patch.
Like garter snakes that hide in the thorny brambles
Tangled canes slither across the sandy path
No perfect rows only prickly trailing briars
That soar from the heart of the thicket
In arching limbs to touch on summer skies.
Like raven tresses the blackberry fruit glistens -
Capturing sweetness from the glowing sun -
Purple stained fingers release the ripeness
Then hear it plunk in the berry bucket -
Delicious as raindrops in a summer storm.
Warm evening settles in contented sighs
Watching moonlight creep through tangled vines
When juicy blackberry pie warm from the oven
Arrives on clear plates with salivating praise
Topped with ice cream dripping down the sides.
When autumn strips the jumbled canes
To lie barren beneath the winter sun
My grandmother’s blackberry jam journeys
In reveries of summer days to come
When simple berry picking untangles life.
8-2-22
Contest: Your Thoughts on Blackberries
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Categories:
untangles, fruit, life, summer,
Form:
Free verse
I am a nature addict
and I see people laugh at it...
When I ponder about the future,
or gotta handle the torture,
I look deep into nature
and she is my wound's suture
When I encounter persistent failures,
and when my heart mourns like a wailer,
I lean on the shoulders of the nature
and she is my only saviour
Yeah, I am a nature addict
and I see people laugh at it
Whenever I feel depressed
and when my muse is messed up
She sends butterflies and birds as guests
and makes me embrace the zest
Even a small insect turns my sobering mind
into the happiest one and the cool wind
untangles my mind's twisty knots and
removes hatred from my heart without my consent
However I know our mother nature is so kind
And so I am a nature addict
But I see people laugh at it
When a single wild flower grins,
and when the dawn chorus of birds begin
some esoteric sense of happiness comes within,
I am addicted, is that a sin?
I am a nature addict
and I see people laugh at it,
But I am proud of it
Categories:
untangles, addiction, nature,
Form:
Free verse
She sorts me in parts
From one side to other.
I am symmetrical and asymmetrical.
I am closest to her brain
I swing around her freely.
I take a leap and kiss her cheeks
She tucks me back behind her ears
Adamantly, i repeat. She repeats.
I am tired
I rest on her shoulders.
I get confused and ill
She untangles me with her Clarity
She cleans me with her Sincerity.
I am hers.
I run down her neck and beyond.
Categories:
untangles, 10th grade, baby, care,
Form:
Carpe Diem
ain't it a shame
when hate lynches
a 14 year old Colored boy
in 1955 Mississippi
and blows away the dreams of
four innocent little ***** girls
in 1963 Birmingham, Alabama
yeah
bus that to your segregated thoughts
as I interracially walk you
through Little Rock, Arkansas
with Daisy Bates & nine Black Children
to march along side the National Guard
on their way to a lily white school
as the message of this
un-segregates & untangles
the history of hate
attackin’ ******* in 1957
whose only desire was to be educated
and schooled too
racism & hate
doesn’t try to guide
the white citizen council back
to their good senses
‘cause racism
don’t care ‘bout nobody
being Jewish or Colored
when it needs to
fire-bomb
***** churches with ******* in them
or feels the need to hang someone
from a tree out of existence
racism even devours its own kkklan
as the innocent
pay the ultimate price
racism doesn’t care
if your church is the 16th Street Baptist
and 14 yr. old Addie Mae Collins
is one of the four black Alabama children
killed in attendance
racism ain’t concerned about
you being white either
or your last name being
White
Black
Brown
Till
Schwerner
Evers
Liuzzo
Mandela
Martin or Rodney King
and so many other names
that we’ll never know of
that racism wounded or buried six feet
under hate
racism doesn’t care about
what kinda NAACP dream
you’re having
or concerned about your last name
being "Parks" in 1955
when it attempts to guide you back
to the "Colored" section of the bus
where you know your
civil-rights will be denied
every time you allow
" segregation & discrimination"
to collects its fare
racism & its hateful followers
have no regard at all
for one’s race / religion
or sexual persuasion
especially when racism peers
into its discriminating mirror
century after century
time after time
day after day
and tells itself in 2006
"it’s better than you"
because you’re "cultured" different
from them"
yeah
racism stirs an ugly pot of soup
that no one should ever have to taste.
Categories:
untangles, angst, care, old, care,
Form:
Free verse
the morning groans as she untangles from the covers
worn and blunt
from the night before
her eyes puffed and wrinkled, wrinkled and blink
winking with bleary sting. mustard gas
sinking
swallowing in the hollows
choking the cities yellow
choking the grass grown over
grave row
choking the green grass
brown
burying the noble and their children
who only wanted revenge on
each other
say, the ghost shirt. say, for the
virgin
no more wire, no more line
it all gets sent through collapsing
time
between
towers
of
aluminum
drowning man, drowning with the fear of
that fire
that he has forgotten, or
the fire that has forgotten
him
fingering dull charms
that he has wrapped round
the neck. to study on
to construct
worry on
like a rosary. a rosary of
dull, clanking, cold
charms
to keep him occupied
to keep the morning
meaning
full
material, predictable
to keep an attempted faith
still
able
Categories:
untangles, absence, age, angel, anti
Form:
Free verse
The best thing you can do about a suicide is understanding it.
The boy opens the door and walks by his mom
his mom says "how was school"
He doesnt respond
he walks silently to his room
His mom turns away in sadness
"its dinner time Ory" she yells up the stairs.
He walks slowly down the steps
Hiding something in his hand as he puts it in his pocket
His mother is setting the table
Putting meat on his plate
He sits down unto the seat
not touching his food
"is there something wrong with it?" his mom asks
He doesnt look at her
"talk to me. why have you been ignoring me" she repeats.
He gets up off the chair and walks outside
Walking into the woods as his mom runs out
"get back here where are you going"
Every living thing dies alone." he writes in white on a tree in there back yard
He throws the rope over the toughest branch
He steps up unto a little chair
Tying the rope around his neck
The chair falls
His mom worries in panic
She cant find him anywhere
She waits up all night
The Next Morning"
She walks out to the garden
Looking up at a tree
She sees the fallen chair from behind a tall bush
She runs
Picking up the chair
Seeing the thing she never thought would have happened
She falls to her knees
A tear falls from her cheek
Not understanding
Reading the words on the tree
Every living thing dies alone"
She wonders
Thinking
Crying
She untangles him from the tree and holds him
Talks gentle to him
Something she hasnt done in a while
Now grasping the meaning behind what he has done
The best thing you can do about a suicide is understanding the meaning behind it.
Categories:
untangles, childhood, confusion, death, depression,
Form:
Lyric
Rising from oblivion,
Sol sears the fringes of night.
And gilds the edge of the Earth,
with His chariot ablaze.
Searing tongues of crimson flame
lick a scarlet horizon.
And the shadows of darkness
disperse with the birth of dawn.
A star-studded ebony
morphs into a sky of blue.
And the cotton-candy clouds
acquire a light pinkish hue.
Color untangles from black;
as shadows reclaim their shape.
And a lone pine, bristles, with
needles of emerald green.
Categories:
untangles, beauty, earth, imagery, nature,
Form:
Blank verse
When night falls and stumbles into slumber
reshuffles memories and tumbles crumbles
minds and mines of coal dust into icing sugar
it transposes trifle tribulations and awakens
Where evening stars and creatures of the dark
mix and mingle myriads of constellations shine
lunar aspirations convert converse in quiet sleep
they silently expose fake impositions of delusion
Why and how and for what reason a cruel world
in guise of rationalised temptation in quite some cheek
and bum and bottom line prescription untangles in
the solace soul and solar comfort of caress eludes
We may be well advised to choose between and
well beyond advancing torturous flagellation of
fool’s false impression misguided paradox reality and
walking sleep catching dream latching over and above
When evening mist and dusk beholds no further
prison walls of misconception’s assault on sanity
imprints no further coffin nails on human nature
the radiant twilight unfolds to tell the story yet again
08th February 2017
Categories:
untangles, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
The sun, going about her daily chores,
glimpses a new star in the sky,
one smaller than herself,
yet strangely familiar.
Used to catching her image first in puddles,
then growing larger in lakes,
she at first only sees a stranger,
then catches herself
spread in the moon's reflection
across thousands of miles of sky.
Hypnotized by the beauty
of this strange new view of herself,
she can't ignore it,
sneaking looks time after time;
she can't take her eyes off herself.
Daily, as the moon moves about in the sky,
the sun catches tantalizing glimpses
of herself from multiple angles.
By then, the sun imagines herself to have
the moon's full attention,
claiming it as her mirror.
Like Snow White's wicked stepmother,
the sun asks this mirror repeatedly,
methodically, almost hypnotically,
"Who is the fairest of them all?"
The moon answers all questions
obliquely,
bringing the sun back time and again,
puppet on a string
seeking a definitive answer.
By day, the moon untangles
its strings of moonlight,
puts out its nets.
Their dialog moves sideways;
the sun's questions, always direct,
glance off the moon;
the moon's answers slip around behind it
as the sun tries to get a better look
at what the moon might be saying.
Who was created in whose image?
Which came first,
the chicken, the egg, or the yolk,
small sun caught up in the quicksilver lies
of albumen?
Categories:
untangles, life, nature, science, moon,
Form:
ABC
Ombre
I miss you in the most strangest of ways…like a faraway song…
like lyrics of a folklore….
….an Indian tale around a fire ring
like a dark deep forest which I have always passed by, never lingering
I miss you like the sound of a waterfall
Like a dream that flitted through
Like a tear drop which got caught in my lashes
Like a smile that caught me unawares
I miss you like I never knew you
Like you are a stranger passing through my life.
And….
as the rain drops trickle down the windshield and become one,
as the snow flakes pass by the windowpanes and melt as they touch the earth,
as the wind untangles my tresses and veil my face….
as my mind holds back the heart and then…. lets it go….
as your thoughts dance around in my mind and become a dream as my eyes close
I miss you even more…..
like I never knew you,
like you are a stranger passing through my life
Categories:
untangles, farewell, memory, missing you,
Form:
Free verse
Eyes untangles the twining nodes of your blouse
Exposing nectar factories that taunt naughty minds
As their mouths leak the righteous nudity of their oblongata
Their hands stay restless while their nostrils sniff your underwear
Pseudopodia protrudes between your two legs
As rain shadows form behind your eyes
With each and every pulse
Silent cries of pain follows
While their hearts jeers with excitement
And their bodies shriek and wriggle
To the sweetness of your pain
To one by one destruction comes
As their pseudopods are dipped Into the volcanoes of cold fire
Because they understood not what wisdom meant
When she mentioned that a tree falls only to where it leans
Because HIV now cheers in their veins
AIDS is real guys-be careful where you lean
Categories:
untangles, abuse, anger, health, imagery,
Form:
Imagism
I Will Learn To Unlearn Loving You
I will learn to unlearn loving you
if forgetting you will
stop me from loving you,
like breathing in without breathing out,
I'll count the days with you
and uncount them without you.
My mind untangles the tendrils of my heart,
our hearts.
It may take days, months, years or a lifetime,
it may happen or it may not,
from wanting you and unwanting you,
from touching your lips to not,
I'll bury my pruned heart to the deepest earth
and not leave a statue nor
a gravestone.
Perhaps the first morning rain will remind me,
clinging back to you.
My heart may beat again or may not, if it'll
my mind unceases and unceases
thinking of you.
My heart will forget forgetting you, for it
throbs for you, throbs for you.
Tendrils will creep back to my heart, to your heart.
Categories:
untangles, absence,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
With the sanctity of ignorance
Flocks follow the wolf
With truth caged
The masses flow
With allegiance to whims
People praise their foes
One day it will be remembered
As a turning point
Brought about by spin
A footnote of incredulity
A masked attack on democracy
A faithful adherence to overkill
Democracy has its foibles
Its idiosyncrasies
It can mount the stage and then flee
Taking not just liberty
But fraternity
All the while gaining infamy
Despite doing nought for you or me
We praise nostalgia
We want only change that is none
We need the like button of eternity
To wrap us in plastic vanity
We prostrate to love
That is naked insularity
Yet we make friends
That follow meekly
Shout that the champion has arrived
Bellow that the steed of hope has entered with joy
Announce that kindness is free to loot our misery
And Make us understand conformity
Say nil that will smother our illicit fantasy
Rage
What use is it now we have happy clown to praise
Bawl
A bit late when we bit the hand that took all away
Fret
Only if you wondered aloud when u saw the flames
Pray
If your countenance is a member of the debating crew
It is given a name
This mess that now has come home to roost
This tangle that untangles like glue
This trap that took what we brazenly knew
While we sailed the ark two by two
What side you cling to matters not
What hopes for dominance you may have
Withers as the drought of uncertainty fills the land
What crises you feel will come
May reveal a future that always made you glum
Speak for whom the bell tolls
The winner you know you will always scold
Categories:
untangles, political, power,
Form:
Free verse
A house consists of walls and a ceiling
A home represents an innate feeling
A house is made of bricks and beams
A home is made of hopes and dreams
A house is where we come and go
A home is where the minds grow
A home is never too small for all your friends
It’s a place where laughter never ends
Home untangles the twist of melancholy
Lets the thoughts rectify the folly
Carries one back to the birthplace of truth
To cherish the memorable days of youth
END
Categories:
untangles, home, house,
Form:
Rhyme