Best Unvarnished Truth Poems
~ Bygone beauty - the spark still pulsates ~
- quote by poet
Antique and retro
junk or culture?
I bought it
way too expensive at auction
Aging and rusty
Useless
you're probably thinking
A rustic lantern
from the time when kerosene lamps
was the best one had
Timeless design with
soul, charm and uniqueness
Brush and rub
Of sentimental virtues
the need for mercy,
nursing and care
in the hands of love
The beauty is temporarily hidden
will soon regain its former glory
The history of the lamp,
- the unvarnished truth
Brush and rub
03.04.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- 'R' Words - Poetry Contest -
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1st place in the contest
In our heads are
two voices.
One is
deceitful,
judgmental...
You're not good enough.
You're not beautiful enough.
You're not strong enough.
You're not lovable.
You're not worthy.
You will fail if you try.
Laugh off these falsehoods
and listen to
the other voice within
that tells you
the unvarnished truth...
You are enough.
You are beautiful.
You are strong.
You are lovable.
You are a trophy to be held up high!
You will succeed, every time.
The preposterous fictions many
profess to be unvarnished truth
warp the very fabric of our universe --
cause those long dead to walk among us
through the spectral midnights in our minds.
The bone dust of those past millennia
films our eyes, coats our shelves
of sacred primers, those missals
unquestionable in their catechistic
authority -- so we become
the acolytes of those controllers
who have themselves always been
instructed, conditioned, and suppressed
by generations of such teachers --
through example, reward, or punishment.
Think! Open up your mind!
The truly free do not fear to question
and to decide the truth or falsity
of any proposition, any statement
or assertion and to declare
what they have concluded to be true.
Or false.
Sometimes unvarnished truth is hard to take.
It’s often just as difficult to tell.
Truth may cause tears to fall and hearts to break.
Withholding truth when there is much at stake
is wrong. How could such pretense turn out well?
Sometimes unvarnished truth is hard to take.
Those in the know will step up for the sake
of friends deceived, whom flattery befell.
Truth may cause tears to fall and hearts to break.
Delusions vanish, leaving in their wake
reality, with which they now must dwell.
Sometimes unvarnished truth is hard to take.
Disaster may be foiled by those who make
a move and help a trapped friend break the spell.
Sometimes unvarnished truth is hard to take.
Though wiser now, enlightened ones will ache.
Time’s passage will the brunt of anguish quell.
Sometimes unvarnished truth is hard to take.
Truth may cause tears to fall and hearts to break.
October 26, 2022
Placed first in Mystic Rose Rose's Premiere Contest Tell It Like It Is
A PLACE IN THE SUN
Through each disconcerting walk of life
Till all my explorations cease
All the vulnerability I’ve got culminate
I have lost the kiss of peace.
In a place next to the sun I gladly soar
Hoping to be near God, ending my inner war.
I loathed my ostentatious life
Yearning, in spite of all my fears
Land me safe in a place next to the sun
Where I can purify my eyes with fresh tears.
With every word said and every cruel thought
I atone to those who my cruel deeds had bought.
My heart has been completely crumpled
In vain my love with exertion broke free
Unvarnished truth should be my salvation
Seeking the lost emotions, to comfort Id.
In a place next to the sun I dream of going
Where all past transgressions shall be foregoing.
When mum would talk to other folks about her family,
She’d always speak particularly proudly about me …
Of how I’d gone to grammar school, my bookish ‘steel-trap’ mind.
To hear her, you would think I was a boon to all mankind!
It should have made me happy to have such a super Mum …
So why did I feel sheepish, and fat, and gross, and DUMB?
Why could I never say to any person how I felt,
Or tell them how I wished the ground beneath me would just melt?
Could it have been because I sensed that, under Mother’s pride,
The plain unvarnished truth was, she was never satisfied?
Did she feel that I’d let her down by being fat and clumsy?
Or was it that I loved my Dad more than I loved my Mumsie?
For, truth to tell, that was a fact. For all she wished it other,
I loved my father in a way I never could love Mother.
I do know she was jealous of the love between us two …
She let it slip in ‘chance’ remarks such as “Who’d look at you?”
“Your skirt’s too short!” “You’re much too fat!” and far unkinder slurs.
She saw me as a rival for his love, that should be hers.
She never learned the secret. No, she never found the key –
That he loved me just as I was, not “How I ought to be … “
The tragic thing was, we loved her in just that same way too.
We tried to show it, but poor Mum could not believe it true.
So, after all, it wasn’t me who wasn’t good enough –
No-one could satisfy her, not a soul could measure up.
For Mum had never loved herself: she’d never felt worthwhile.
That was the truth behind the boasts: the tears behind the smile.
She couldn’t let herself be loved. She never could perceive
True love can never be possessed, but it must be received.
I feel so sad to think of how she wasted her whole life
Pursuing love, in such a way all she could cause was strife.
By fighting hard to keep us, she was driving us away.
If only she could let us go, perhaps we would have stayed …
But now I am determined not to make the same mistake.
From now on, I shall give love, and accept love, but NOT TAKE!
(Italian Sonnet)
If men all spring from one, as now they claim
new studies prove beyond a skeptic’s doubt,
will those who scoff at God rise up and shout
to argue still with bated breath the same,
or hold their stance within a twisted frame?
Perhaps this news* the devil’s lies will rout
as truth itself slides home with heavy clout,
and fraud or pretense slink away in shame.
Which one of us would snicker up our sleeve,
but hope the world will reason well and long
and cynics ditch their purpose to deceive?
For if by one God has wrought the throng
and through his Son made effort to retrieve,
the premise now for man’s belief is strong.
*National Geographic reported DNA studies which
prove all men descended from one man about 60,000
years ago. Not reported in mainstream media news.
Ha! Please take down
The eyesore
You've mounted atop your head.
You wonder why
It feels much too heavy.
Here's the unvarnished truth.
Because, well, because
One cannot be
A fool
And a king
Simultaneously
Your counterfeit diadems
Hold no weight, or value.
They wouldn't shine beneath
A plethora of suns.
Spare yourself
The world's ridicule.
To rule an empire
Unchallenged,
To someday sit
On a throne, wearing
The real McCoy
To travel so much as
Halfway
The long glory road
To acquire the royal appellation
And prestige you covet,
For starters, deep-six
Your distended ego
And delusions of grandeur
Date written: 04/24/2022
On Thinking Too Much
You think too much, she said, and I think
She might be right; she, whom once I fell in love
With and think of still.
Thought on thought, I explore every option, each an
Imagined path through life; intricately building fairy castles
And fantastic worlds of love.
I think too much, yet say very little, fantasy worlds
Locked inside my head; speaking is revealing, exposing
Self to risk of rejection.
And yet I wonder, in moments of introspection, what would
I lose to speak my thoughts; knowing, as with she, I
Might hear the unvarnished truth.
But then again, as with she, I might have a friend
For life, whose eyes look out at me
With amused and understanding affection.
I think too much, and remember a troubled childhood
And the search for love and recognition; to build myself
Defence against a cold world.
And here I am again, with you, who has not
Yet laid down the strict boundaries as did she;
And I think too much still.
Short Verse
Under a sand stone
I found the unvarnished truth
Alas it was subjective
Not a gold hued axiom
A truth void of arguments
Why so many must die?
Disparity…not death’s fault;
Death loves all people…
The truth has its ways,
Be careful how you respond;
Bigotry explodes!
Together…we die,
Together, we live apart;
To gather…denied…
Covid-19 kills,
But it’s not the enemy;
The news reveals…who…
Unvarnished truth…: shines;
Varnished lies reflect no light:
Only the liar…
Let’s not be dismayed,
This crucifixion shall end;
Resurrection comes…
Reading this you live…
Understanding this…you grow;
Ignorance uproots…*
*Grow… x 5
*Grow…5+2
*Grow…7-2
Cut the chedder
World wide boom and bust
Economic cycles derived
From circadian rhythms
Making a corroded artery plunge
Into diabetic, catatonic comas
Companies that mine hormones
Sparkling that appetite reservoir
Congress will fund the model
Subsidies to the dirt and cheese
Feed lot arranged for meaty pleasure
Health stricken from the record
Drug money pays of the comeback
So get wise to the guise
The greed is still obscene
No unvarnished truth can belie statistics
We participate in the destiny
Claim you freedom and creativity
Consuming is voting by other means
For what is
And what will become
While climbing the corporate ladder,
Jill zoomed right by Jack. He got madder
than a wet hen. Then, fit to be tied,
so determined to soothe his hurt pride,
he told lies on her. “Cheater!” he cried.
Everyone knew the unvarnished truth:
Jack was dishonest, mean, and uncouth!
Only ONE paid Jack any attention~~
his employer. I feel I must mention
Jack got kicked to the curb with no pension!
As for Jill, she has earned the respect
she is shown. All know she won’t neglect
any duty, and her employees
know she cares about them. Each, she sees
as a team member she’s glad to please.
He keeps trying his barrage
of raging vitriol, but it's a blunt knife
on his target's alligator skin
A predictable high school bully
with the same ol' lines of attack.
His target always sees them coming...
and the invectives inflict no pain!
The bully sharpens the blade
with each try, then slashes and stabs
in rapid succession...
but the knife never breaks his victim's skin,
and the funny thing about it is...
the bully seems to be the one bleeding!
One fine day, the boy
bravely stands up for himself
with this unvarnished truth...
"You repeatedly try to cut me open,
yet you lacerate yourself each time
you fail to break me; and you'll keep
failing, so choose your next victim!"
Bravo, kiddo, bravo!
Submitted for...
Strand Select 12,Any Form ,Any Theme Poetry Contest (Winner: Honorable Mention)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date: 01/15/2020
Date written: 01/12/2020
Artists
Alfred, by chosen father, vehemently denies
the paternity and has had his statue erected in Faro.
At last, he was honoured for being glorious
bringing colour to an otherwise gloomy town.
Graffiti made by the like of Banksy charms
the rest is scribbling on a wall.
I know little about painters except for Caravaggio
he spoke the unvarnished truth about our life.
His critics like to point out that he was illegal too
what else to expect of the fearful.