Best Unwarranted Poems


Premium Member Roses of Agony

I am being told to let go
By almost everyone I know
Release, let it out, let it be
Plunge into passivity
 
While I cling to bitter beauty
My bruises bloom a thorny tree
Guarding roses of agony

This pain is mine, it belongs to me
My torment is my blood, it breathes
with every breath, it beats with my heartbeats
Within my tears, it weeps
It shrieks, uncoiled, beneath my skin
Where the sin of suffering begins

It is my fertile fury, my hellish choir
My savage soul, my cathartic fire

It is large and lush and livid
Conquering and vivid

It is too precious, too valuable, to trade away or wallow
in trinkets, or flimsy platitudes, or empty cliches, or hollow
promises of unfulfilling fortresses to follow

Their learned words I dare spurn
For to recover, I must burn

So I will keep it, for I know its worth, 
even if their unsolicited, unwarranted, intrusive,
Questioning and questionable, inconclusive
Unadvised advisors do not grant it girth

It is here I find
What I want most
Where rage of kindness blinds
My grieving ghosts.

06/06/20

Entered in 'N/A Rerun 7'
1st Place

Inexorable Want

Inexorable Want



How do I find
These sentences 
Written as they are
In ephemeral ink
Indelible lines
Inscribed in my being 

Spectral yearnings

It crashes me
To rocks
In unanswerable waves
Swimming tidal
To the inexorable
Yet
The implacable distance
Confounds me

Longing vent me no more
In twists and turns
And unmade beds
Where crumpled kisses
Dream on hot soaked cushions 
Leave me not
To the ever restless
Fumblings
Quiet unheard of whisperings
Of her name

How do I find
The collective alphabetic
Of love unknown
Yet
Divulged by these
The screeching banshees 
Of petal falling
Corpuscle red
They flow through my blood
Unbidden
Unwarranted
Unwanted
And so desperate

How do they find me
On such a precarious brink
With the voltage
And permission of electricity
Rapine in all my singularity
Hurricane she batters at me
For all my will to resist
I am
Weak

I cannot

Help me please
Lest I drown dark
Brooding in forever’s need
She is my quiet
And ever sun set calmed
Sea
And I
I am a tempest
Left to bellow and blow
Inside an hour glass
In the confines of my soul

Help me please
Save me from this void ripping
As she shreds every day
Every hour
With my unrequited returning
To her arms

Save me

For I have found
My life
My soul companion
So far from me
On some so strange a horizon
That the distance
Between us
Could prove to be
My
Undoing

And Yet They Judge

There are those who have fallen
in the eyes of this world,
one’s “sins” more damaging than the next.
“Skeletons from closets”
so ruthlessly hurled
and so many people are left vexed.

Now I do not condone
all that comes to light
whether by papers, radio or TV.
But what if it was YOU
whose “sins were in sight,
are there things you’d want others to see ?

The world does these things
and yet they judge,
from the arm of a pointed finger stare they.
But they conveniently hide
their “filthy sludge”,
and yet in His court they’ll have their day.


                   I wrote this in response to a prodding that wouldn’t leave me alone. 
Thinking on some people who walk in the limelight or of a high public profile, I started to be 
perplexed about our willingness to BROADCAST the latest Hollywood gossip or the latest
political “fall from grace”. I am in no way condoning unwarranted behaviors and these are 
times that call for the appropriate action to be taken no matter who the offenders are. I’m 
just saying shame on those who are so willing to point fingers and yet do or would do some of 
the very same things if they could.                  Lightwalker


Premium Member My Pain Is Mine

I am being told to let go
By almost everyone I know
Release, let it out, let it be
Plunge into passivity
 
While I howl to bitter beauty
My bruises bloom a thorny tree
Guarding roses of agony

My pain is mine, it belongs to me
This torment is my blood, it breathes
with every breath, it beats with my heartbeats
Within my tears, it weeps
It shrieks, uncoiled, beneath my skin
Where the sin of suffering begins

It is my fertile fury, my hellish choir
My savage soul, my cathartic fire

It is large and lush and livid
Conquering and vivid

It is too precious, too valuable, to trade away or wallow
in trinkets, or flimsy platitudes, or empty cliches, or hollow
promises of unfulfilling fortresses to follow

Their learned words I dare spurn
For to recover, I must burn

So I will keep this, for I know its worth, 
even if their unsolicited, unwarranted, intrusive,
Questioning and questionable, inconclusive
Unadvised advisors do not grant it girth

It is in my pain I find
What I wish most
Where rage of kindness blinds
My grieving ghosts.

5/20/18

What Is White

Are times really getting better with race and nationality?
Is there ignorance in color with unwarranted rationality?

My hope is that yes, we have tried to come to understand, 
just because you’re white doesn’t mean you have the upper hand.

Attacks on personal preference of what music you enjoy, 
or choosing based on race who you wish to employ.

We are all created out of love and should live in harmony, 
living in a world where there is complete equality. 

I don’t think there is a dominant color of more importance, 
and we should concentrate on whether we live in competence. 

Some fear other races due to crudeness and ineptitude, 
or just plain being unfamiliar with culture and being rude. 

To me the color white is just a skin color that is worn, 
we should all show compassion for the race that we were born.



January 16th, 2018

Premium Member Those Slithering Serpents of World's Hidden Abyss

Those Slithering Serpents Of World's Hidden Abyss

Through pleasant meadows they slither and soft hiss
pushing down nubile flowers as they go
they of dark, giver of serpentine kiss,
sowers of blackest curse that hatred grows,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!

Lying in wait in fields of verdant grass
with long razor sharp teeth so quick to bite
seeking to inflict pain as victims pass,
secure in deceit, monsters of night,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!

Within deep shadows they dance, curse and play
waiting for another target to slash
full of darkness, fearful of light of day,
with blades of hate, cutting a bloody gash,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!

Through pleasant meadows they slither and soft hiss
pushing down nubile flowers as they go
they of dark, giver of serpentine kiss,
sowers of blackest curse that hatred grows,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!

Robert J. Lindley, 2-19-2020
Rhyme, ( The Dark Disciples Of World's Cancerous Decrees )

Note: A poetic summation of those people that seek to 
spread misery, pain, sorrow and injure others by way
of unwarranted attacks upon unsuspecting poetic souls.
Serpents that live to injure others that they decide
to harm due to their own insecurity, hatred, and/or
ill-born and unfounded jealouses.
May God forgive, (because for now) I am fresh out of that tender fruit
myself.
( Que Dios perdone, ya que estoy recién salido de ese
 tierno fruto yo mismo. )


Premium Member Colors of Grief


Arising in softest sapphire,
Shimmery as the night,
Inviting silence to release her,
Tears flowing, thick and sincere,
Breaking through melancholy,
Trembling with dark dread,
Erasing all the soul’s vivacity –
Erasing the existence of her memories.

Appearing in somber ashen,
Overcast by doubts – catastrophe,
Shrinking beneath seas of dejection,
Unwarranted shadows, 
Casting careless heartaches,
Destined to fail – the misery so real,
Unwelcome as the tears, trailing,
Like dew, soft and soothing,
Pulsating through the veins who remember…

Ascending in the lost hues,
Dusky death, her faded words so wrong,
Like a sad, sad song…
Lingering on the soul, deaf
To the colors of hope, the vibrant 
Charms of cheery gold and bubbly rose,
Healing the heart, risking all the beautiful
For the moments when pleasant feelings
Fall, like rain – softly blessing away all fear,
Washing away the pain with a breath,
Gasping for the moments before death,
Stole the laughter from the dreams,
The sensitivity from the subtle memories.
Climbing the moments before grief
Struck the soul with its night,
Reminding that autumn, yes, the fall…
She always comes to call,
Leaving only the naked branches,
The whispers of wind, caressing the still
Cool blessings, tenderly
Like a flowing grace, abiding
Pouring out her promises of life
Even after the graveside service has drained,
All the beautiful from the colors,
Colors of grief, meant to bring a heart peace.

Yes, these colors of grief,
They’ll always abide to relieve,
Comforting the souls who can see past –
The loss, into the promise of heaven eternal.

Listen to the aching prayers, the promise is there,
Alive in the memories, in the gentleness,
Where a still reflection of God’s breathless harmony –
Kisses away every anxiety, 
Reassures and consoles, lightens the heaviest loads,
With the promise of a home with Him in heaven above,
A home made of His pure, sweet love!

Premium Member Shell Shocked and Choked

‘Turn swords into ploughshares and nightmares to dreams’
		
                I have not one plough and no shares in the market

		Insomnia has taken over my nights the rest is illusion

		Ambitions are exhausted and hope has no yearning

		Freedom dangles on the rope of puppet-less strings

		Vacuum reflects an echo of silent ear bursting rasping

                Dissonance oozes from cacophony’s apathetic rattle

The heavy clanger of other’s fraudulent forge melts disowned blood

Into ice in my veins as a purulent mind oozes vile battles' cries

Muted by trench feet scraping bottomless mind-fields and apathy

			‘Pull yourself out of catatonia’s core-less pits’

	But there is no kernel of truth and fruits of desire have rotted

	To the acrid stench of a Self carefully lost on broken branches

	Snapped composure looms over a well-trodden treacherous path

	Carved into an involuntary hermit’s cave by a cliff edged road side 

	It is grave in the cavern in which vacant vagrants jumble their bones

	Disconnect their last possession and wilfully trade skulls and bones

‘This too shall pass and so many others have been stuck in the rot’

		And yet suffocation in some muddy sludge is sinking

		Slowly and excruciatingly tempting to join forces of evil

		A dark rusty anchor floats high on the unreachable ceiling

		Time I have endless measures of but the world is upside down

		I am out of the picture that has faded memories for the future

		Dislodged and dismembered I am a powerful union of nothing

‘Change your perspective and find solace where it is hidden’

	So he who is I from the distance finally lets go of unwarranted grip

	Descends as far from the surface as possible beyond expectations

	And finds footing of the shackles where the ploughshare should be

	The spikes pierce my soles and my soul ostensibly drowned in sorrow

	At least there is pain and some place in between scars to feel emotions

	That tentatively nurture rescue apparently beyond impossible salvation

‘Your advice seemed hollow but there is some loving space left inside my shell’


29th November 2019

Sgt Pepper Mama Africa

This is my Sgt Pepper Song

The 1 that never got on

Because this was not a Pop Song

More a delve into the truth a mirror of reality 

Take a Drive with Me
And in less than an hour 
This is what you will see

Amarulla Fruit covered in Beatles and buzzing Flies 
Being sold in battered Old 1.5L Plastic Coke Bottles 
By native women with babies strapped to there back
Anything for a Shilling or a Dime

Under African Sky 
Burnt Red Sand under Bare Foot
Where the children while the days away

Yet
Some see poverty 
Some cry slaves 

Because they cannot comprehend 
They measure not happiness 
 In terms of acquiring things

But take refuge rather in the simple things 

A long walk to frreedom drinking water 
And a Plot called Home 
with a Corrugated Shack upon it

And nothing but Love
To reside within it

But ask a question
Speak no lies 
Ask me if I wished to swap

My pampered life with 1 of them
Honestly I would have to reply
Sadly 
No

Because selfish is
As selfish be

The Rich live Poor 

And the Poor Die Happy 

Bound by a communal sense of Electricity
That cuts through condescending patronizing sympathy 
And unwarranted Charity

That in Reality 
Only makes the Giver feel Better 

And the Receiver a Debtor

Premium Member Love Slays



"Love Slays"

Love slays Mother Dragon 
Dragon Mother slays Love

there in the middle 2
unbreakable meet

as 1 conquering unwarranted defeat

Love trains Dragon Mother
Mother Dragon trains Love

on repeat 
and so on and so on and so on 

throughout 
all Eternity

LOVE always, 
Slays Xx



Candide Diderot. ‘24 






the training ground. 
1 = Won.

The Folly of Man

The Folly of Man

Into that great abyss we speak fortunes, wants and frustrations
Seeking that witch can only give us solace to that that never bothers.
A million prayers go out into the night with fear and supplications
Only one eye open, and that half seeing the plan that is our fathers.

We glean the fields of a present day pasture seeing naught but the road ahead
Never looking sideways, to that wich could be. Or back to what has passed
It is the Folly of Man that keeps us building this world from the blood of the dead
Where brick, tile and steel, are forever the molds from witch our children are cast

We need to move forward to a simpler time where things are not complex
When profit does not reign as the bottom line and the dollar is not our savior
To strive for a life where we live freely, without regard to color or sex
When hungry children can catch the breath and hate isn’t normal behavior 

When a gift is again just a gift, and no longer requires an equal requital,
And a compliment given to another isn’t for a personal gain.
When justice is sought and given, and no guilty takes home and acquittal 
And the innocent can live their lives without feeling unwarranted pain

So look to the instructions that he left us, that those, his chosen have penned,
And wander not where you road will lead you, or what your destiny really is
This world we know is fleeting and into eternity we must all ascend
For never has there been a more apparent truth, that all of this is really His.

Another Crossroad

Another crossroad.
Invalids weep when 
wearing another's
soiled diapers suddenly 
disappear.
In spite of the battered off-chance -
from a despondent interruption;
I'm the exposed exception.

Coarse fingers bleed.
My wheelchair spokes 
are hardly friendly.
I proudly bawl when no one 
can see me bow my head
amongst the company of
irreverent observers.

At rest
with this solemn disease -
the embrassing stench of inhumanity
forces me to open a 
newly glass-stained window.
I whisk swallowed past-killings
onto bent steel hangers.
Neatly there, they elegantly droop -
angled and uninteresting;
in a dank closet where 
falsified myths
and I 
silently hide.

Leukemia, I personally, thank you.
Mid wives laugh at me.
Jesters poke a crooked finger, also.
Kings, queens 
and jacks are left behind.
I chuckle, too - with an
unbridled Lucille Ball lament.
Four spaded-aces and a forgotten spittoon;
the uninviting hospice where we 
comfortably bed together
crocheting darned finales.

Say farewell.
Don't tell anyone.
Blood bleeds beyond 
frowned staled dales and

expiration is a personal moment.
Daddy and Mommy need to witness 
the definition of 
an unwarranted demise.

Open ended the 
Grimm fairy tale concludes,
without a finely tuned 
Aesop moral,
leashing the braille-exhausted
onto another muddied 

crossroad.
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.

But Seriously

Seriously?
You drive a Benz with chrome plated wheels,
then from the government you continue to steal,
I wonder if you’ll ever really know how it feels,
to be so hungry and not get approved for food assistance-
Seriously? Luxury living with no room for intolerable resistance.

Seriously?
You beg for forgiveness when you end a life with abortion,
when the man you thought loved you shows extortion-
There are couples out there who would adopt an orphan,
with a loving man becoming a father with his wife,
Seriously? How could you even comprehend ending a life?

Seriously?
You’re perfectly healthy on the couch with work capability,
yet you continue to collect unwarranted disability-
You claim all you deserve is secure financial stability,
when the veterans of war get denied such extravagance-
Seriously? You claim intelligence but suffer from arrogance. 

Seriously?
Remember finishing your plate before leaving the table?
Well, be grateful you have food, so many are unable.
People are starving in streets with finances unstable,
yet you waste food like it’s always to be expected-
Seriously? On the streets poverty stricken families are rejected. 


Seriously?
You build a second gym in the grade school you attended,
making the poor school in Detroit feel abandoned and offended-
Government assistance for education should be recommended,
teachers getting paid nothing for furthering education-
Seriously? These needy children suffer in silent desperation. 

But…seriously…
What has this nonsensical world resorted to?
Making promises and not following through.



February 2, 2017

Wild and Foolish Love

WILD AND FOOLISH LOVE
Knowing that you exist in my heart
Even when you always decked on your hat
To lure the one that has giving you tough 
Times as you often attempt to ride on the rough
Edges of her frigid and rigid mind,
One is not amazed that blind 
Love can easily turn someone wild
Although the individuals with mild 
Hearts sometimes falls into wrong
Hands and it takes quite a long
Time to realize that infatuation
Breeds unwarranted tension and depression
Caused by emotional hurts and heartbreak,
That is usually the end story of a fake.
 A poem written by Uche ken Okologo. 4/30/2013

Premium Member Unwarranted Praise

It's nothing I do
Being just an instrument
That Christ is using
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.

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