Best Unwearied Poems
Awakening Perpetually
by Odin Roark
Awakening perpetually knows well
Perfection’s tuning fork disquietude,
Its awareness that any off-key meandering
Can cloud over a caressing sunshine rising,
Sour a dawning’s gardenia fragrance.
One reaches skyward with morning’s extension,
The opening of shuddered windows,
Inviting breezes to find purpose
Among slumber’s expended air,
The body’s unwearied resilience.
About the room
Timeless ghosts bow heads and implore with stretched arms,
Aroused by their history’s carillon, matins and lauds,
Even as cobblestone passage below traffics today’s gluttonous appetite,
Fulfilling its locust-like consumption,
Unabated by cacophony’s garrulous conceit
Propelling a different consciousness
Self-destructing by tourismic mayhem.
But…
To step forward and lean on man’s balcony of hope,
Is to lift weary eyes above the clutter below
Onto rising light’s warm-colored horizon,
To give one’s tuning fork its earned reward,
The sense of harmony and melody
Being born of another day.
Such is the embrace of dawn’s meaning,
The anticipation of canvas to paint,
Verses to write,
Preludes to compose.
For lest we forget,
Awakening remains perpetual,
Whether for man, creature, seedling or flower.
It asks only to be honored.
Categories:
unwearied, senses,
Form:
Free verse
Open Secrets :
https://youtu.be/inEu2qQuGZ8
If we want a great nation, we have to change it ourselves.
To survive in peace and harmony, united and strong, we must have one people, one nation, one flag.
My message to you all is of hope, courage and confidence. Let us mobilize all our resources in a systematic and organized way and tackle the grave issues that confront us with grim determination and discipline worthy of a great nation.
A battle lost or won is easily described, understood, and appreciated, but the moral growth of a great nation requires reflection, as well as observation, to appreciate it.
A nation whose youth are endowed
with self as strong and hard as steel .
No need of piercing swords in war,
such people brave can ever feel.
The world of Pleaders and the Moon,
By natural laws is chained and bound .
whereas the world in which you dwell,
Owns insight, will and mind much sound.
what do the quivering waves imply,
save enormous zeal and zest for quest?
what lies concealed in mother shell
is a Gift of God who knows it best.
The hawk is never tired of flight,
Does not drop gasping on the ground :
If unwearied it remains one wings,
From hunters' dread is safe and sound.
I always like to look on the optimistic side of life, but I am realistic enough to know that life is a complex matter.
My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.
Life doesn’t require that we be the best, only that we try our best.
By Miss Aliza Kashmala Kiran.
Categories:
unwearied, destiny, fate, miracle, passion,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
The Poet's Words
The words came, and he wrote. In dreams by night
Labor and deep grief that ages gone were dead
Stole from the past, and stood about his bed;
He sought no words; they came; he did but write.
When day was round him too, some vision bright
Or spark of glowing truth would glide between
The busy voices in a bustling scene,
Turning his heavy heart unto the light.
Whence came they? Were they gifts of long ago,
Like pansies growing on a pilgrim way?
Or but dim echoes of a vaster day
Whose harmony the happy dead may know?
That song eternal, that unwearied chime
Of seas that break around Isles of Time?
Sonnet (Classicism)
R. J. Lindley, written decades ago,
edited and presented today- 11-27-2016
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line:10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 16 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 118
Categories:
unwearied, appreciation, art, creation, humanity,
Form:
Sonnet
Even upon that I cannot guest,
this world that is free and fair,
the latitude here is 45s, of course the other test,
did the law permit me to bear?,
the strikes of all hear say now,
imagine if I dreamt a nightmare,
that last September a horizon is vow.
Seems now what appears a twist,
how can it be that there is a smoke without fire?,
how can it be that criticism is just first?,
ay!, things of the earth of sere,
ay!, turn now and then and there and here,
ay! gnome so, ay! acne, ay! life of wilt,
the sky did contained stars, unwearied there.
Nigerians are happy to once more strive,
yore,now and morrow, of course, did we serve our own?,
did we tell that sunshine is love?,
alas!, when we can no more check,
these, who loss through almost due,
is it ourselves?.
Categories:
unwearied, adventure,
Form:
Ode
Sinking the sun will drown in its own blood
Touching
With last conscience its oozed out blood
Fingering
Bine stemmed branches of oak tree
Evil
Stormed by good twin present everlasting
Companioned
On high pinnioned seas.
Shrunk shriveled the heart
Shudders in tentacles of willow trees
Touching not the fervourless spirit
Resting unwearied for nothingness
Plumed and ruffled
By bird songs of no avail.
The death lament winded not
In wilded plains
Stormed downwards the reddish glow
Shining
With all the despaired
Brained and eyed
Ever felt by the human touch.
Categories:
unwearied, angst
Form:
Lyric
Sinking the sun will drown in its own blood
Touching
With last conscience its oozed out blood
Fingering
Bine stemmed branches of oak tree
Evil
Stormed by good twin present everlasting
Companioned
On high pinnioned seas.
Shrunk shriveled the heart
Shudders in tentacles of willow trees
Touching not the fervourless spirit
Resting unwearied for nothingness
Plumed and ruffled
By bird songs of no avail.
The death lament winded not
In wilded plains
Stormed downwards the reddish glow
Shining
With all the despaired
Brained and eyed
Ever felt by the human touch.
Categories:
unwearied, angst,
Form:
Blank verse
“Aslan, why does the sun shine so bright in Narnia?” I queried.
“My friend,” the big lion told me, “it is a light that is unwearied.”
“Why must we all feel so full of this darkness, dear Aslan?”
“The dark shadows fall away once you repent to the Son.”
“Dear Aslan,” I whispered quietly, “when will I know true hope?”
“When you let go of the past – it’s pain, dread and fear, learning to let go and cope.”
“Why do I feel like I don’t have the strength to make it, Aslan?”
“Because you are weary, my friend, just believe and I’ll give you the power that won’t be outdone.”
“Aslan, dear lion,” I pled, “Will I go to heaven when I’m dead?”
“All you need to do is believe, friend, for heaven to be ahead.”
“Whatever comes in this life,” I asked him, “Can I depend on you?”
“I’ll always be there, dear child,” he said, “from end to end, all through.
I’ll never leave you nor forsake you. I am available to protect you.”
“Aslan,” I smiled, “I seemed to know you – even as a small child. Were you there even then? When I was so small I couldn’t see you were mild?”
“Yes,” he grinned, “I have always been your friend. The guide to your heart and soul. The one who helped you to know – comfort and faith, the miracle that made you whole.”
“I will always love you, Aslan,” I spoke louder, “my heart will always yearn for your home above.”
“Listen up, sweet child,” he spoke, “let your heart be your guide and always know… in life and in love, faith will make a way for your soul to know the joy of silencing the fear and listening to the One who pours out His blessings, His love on the heart who knows that this life is only a stepping stone to the real life that is yet to come. Have faith, show grace and give God your embrace!”
a conversation with a fictional character Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Natasha L Scragg
(Aslan, my character, is from The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis)
February 20, 2022
Categories:
unwearied, blessing, faith, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
Sinking the sun will drown in its own blood
Touching
With last conscience its oozed out blood
Fingering
Bine stemmed branches of oak tree
Evil
Stormed by good twin present everlasting
Companioned
On high pinnioned seas.
Shrunk shriveled the heart
Shudders in tentacles of willow trees
Touching not the fervourless spirit
Resting unwearied for nothingness
Plumed and ruffled
By bird songs of no avail.
The death lament winded not
In wilded plains
Stormed downwards the reddish glow
Shining
With all the despaired
Brained and eyed
Ever felt by the human touch.
Categories:
unwearied, angst
Form:
Lyric
Bless me Lord and give me strength
To track the terrible hound of mind
Over moor and marshland brack and wood
Through rain and storm and mountain wind
Relentlessly bid me my Lord
Relentlessly make me pursue
Unflickering eye unwearied hand
Unfaltering foot unloosened bow
Make the arrow flying straight
Firm of purpose strong of will
Shaped by Your own iron Grace
Chafed by passion pure to kill
Sear through all the smoldering pits
And caverns deep of futures past
Blind the beast in his dreadful den
Of deceit and pierce his heart
Categories:
unwearied, inspirationalme, me,
Form:
Rhyme
How can a house be cold in summer's love
Yet gardens grow and puddles disappear
Inside the walls of frost which I speak of
I live unconscious of the month and year
As nature speaks in tongues unclear to hear
Infected with no memory of time
My memory the victim or the crime
Moreso, methinks my real estate is haunted
Seemingly not a rodent coy and stranded
Can raise a dish and break it when confronted
Oh Lord, I cry to thee as if abandoned
Weak of fatigue, or fear and heavy handed
Be it wizardry woeful through conception
Or be thine eyes figments of false perception
Cabinets close and open quite sporadic
And tablecloths remove themselves completely
Unwearied are the footsteps in the attic
If thou art dither, dost dither discreetly
Thine wish would be for thou to dry concretely
If death adores the soul to be at peace
Why hast thou abandoned thy coffin's lease?
Whispers attract my force untoward a prism
And memories forgotten fast awaken
Now voices blare a tune of exorcism
Myself the ghost, causing thy to be shaken
Oh Lord, I cry to thee a soul forsaken
Forgive me for my soul, non-fiction juror
As I'm the ghastly figure in the mirror
Categories:
unwearied, confusion, death, mystery, memory,
Form:
Rhyme Royal
Doing things by the book
Mom awaits a secret garden
Cleansed through application
Years of service completed
Thoroughly laid down, she dreams
Of lofty French cathedrals
Her maiden name retained
Dad reclaims his potency
Unwearied by the years
Gladly rides his motorcycle
Beyond the frontiers
With his sons by his side
His independence fulfilled
Categories:
unwearied, adventure, happiness, life,
Form:
Free verse
Memories of the silent
a dress unwearied
in a girls shoulders
drink her youth of the floor...
And a broken window
laughing
on her eyes...
Vali Tsironi
Categories:
unwearied, age, art, desire,
Form:
Free verse
When I glide into past, your imprints, I can find
You enjoy my high-fliers as if they are yours
Unwearied marathon with you for many years
And I proclaim that you are always on my mind.
Your muses add hues to my thoughts and go aligned
Keep going with the feel of your aura around
No fear of nightmare instances which pull me down
And I proclaim that you are always on my mind.
You chalk out my concerns and set them well designed
None knows the top secret that you are my first judge
You taught me how and why people crop up a grudge
And I proclaim that you are always on my mind.
Can’t imagine my journey without you, my heart!
Solicit your stay on my mind till I depart
Categories:
unwearied, best friend, sweet love,
Form:
Sonnet
Her work tools,
My antique,
They remind me of her dedication,
They stayed with her till her migration.
Her hands were unwearied by gloom,
They strived until there was bloom.
She was untiring in her quest,
Dawn awakened her zest,
In her chamber, there was a field,
In it also flowed a stream that healed,
This was the secret of her wellness,
This aided her wholeness.
As I walk through the meadow,
Her kind words echo,
Oh, how time slows a vessel,
Oh, how it brings an end to every wrestle.
March 26, 2023.
Categories:
unwearied, loss, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Swoon now, enraptured Melancholy,
Betroth these heavy hours-
Wield thy sceptred dulcetude
O'er my soul's mist-sighing bowers!
For there yet weep unwearied ghosts,
And hungring hopes of weighted dream,
Of the unsolaced heart long shorn of dawn
That no yearning can e'er redeem...
Categories:
unwearied, sad,
Form:
Rhyme