Best Unwept Poems
You’re dressed in gray, and
tattered like the clouds
that hover above you.
Frozen
with the look of a person
who knows of his own
approaching death.
Like the willow that cradles
dawn's mist of unwept tears—
a practiced sorrow,
earned from decades of watching
the slow meandering river,
as it draws closer,
and the banks weather and fall.
Categories:
unwept, loss, nature, sad, sorry,
Form:
Free verse
Hullo, folks!
Do you hear me?
You didn’t hear me when I was dying.
At least hear me now, when I’m dead and buried.
I am, as you know, Jinesh,
Buried here—in this churchyard at Poonthura,
Buried on Sunday—
Like Solomon Grundy!
I did hear you when you were crying—
During the recent floods,
Rushed to your help,
Saved more than a hundred of you.
You all praised me, called me a hero,
Lined the street I lived in
With posters, flex boards, banners and whatnot.
Now you all know that I, as a pillion rider,
Was hit by a passing truck,
Which further ran over my helping hands,
Crushing them—
Thus, adding grievous injury to injury!
I lay there on the roadside,
Crying aloud for help,
Which fell on your deaf years:
You were all busy, all in a nervous hurry—
Off to Timbuktu!
I wept and cried for help, by turns.
But I was left there to die unwept and unsung,
Though I had been honoured.
Now you all may say: RIP
But, you see, I remain restless!
***
Categories:
unwept, 9th grade, death, grief,
Form:
Elegiac Lyric
O’ to fade! To pass! To rest! To die!
To ponder, to listen
and not forebode -
you were as a thresher to the chaff
and the driven wind
that winnowed.
The thunderclap of Tawhiri raging
silence not a loving
fool’s complaint,
nor portend for whom the bell tolls
when the echoes
of time grow faint
My heart alas divided against itself
knows not what to say
or what to feel,
and with ponderous words recited
I return your resting
place to kneel.
Some final absolutions shared alone -
cold black rain upon
my brow and cuff.
Judge not a froward son - I am who
I am, and have
been judged enough
We are but the quick and the dead,
and just or unjust
no keeper of time.
O tell, what sin was imputed to you?
What concealed divine
law or crime?
And what burden so dark the lamps
of Heaven and Earth
burn less bright?
I ask do we in this realm find peace
or is death’s victory
our only respite?
Only in beds of posthumous sleep
will end my
unspoken confessions.
Nay, I no longer exhume the past -
it rebukes all my
searching questions.
From umbilical dawn to end of days
I failed you - I added
unto your woe.
In life and death there comes a time
when to hold on
and when to let go
May your life and times early passed
live on in the heart
that lives in me,
for in all the silent screams below
is my own howl
in my own vanity.
As I pen my verse the charcoal sky
again rumbles softly
over a distant knell.
No loss, no sorrow, no love unwept
can unring that
fearful tolling bell
Written: July 1991
Categories:
unwept, anniversary, death,
Form:
Rhyme
I n v i s i b l e threads,
a mystical m i r a g e,
binding the silhouette of the sky
to the
skin of cinnamon sequels
in the deep blue chakra
that sees beyond
illusive clouds,
carrying rainbow roses
and thornless buds
quenched with jasmine rain.
Yet I remain engrossed
in the rising haze from cornea rivers,
facing the sun
amidst silenced stones,
counting unwept
diamonds that ebb and flow
through the pool of peace lilies,
and violet vapors,
veiled in violin breeze,
ricocheting like
the h e a t
of throbbing heartbeats…
Remember,
I taste the sundrops
you feel in solitude,
I’ve been listening to
your e y e s ~
stories spun from luminous lies,
pain streaming behind saffron smiles,
unrolling polaroids of angst
through the lens of life,
while the
gossamer gold of gloaming
mirrors the poem
between your sore sighs,
like dilating daisies
in the heart of the midnight iris…
And through your pupils,
I’ve found the reason
to rhyme~
bleeding pleas of love
with whimsical words,
dusted with periwinkle,
glazed with crystals,
amidst the gusts of grief
cloaking your conscience,
when wintry woes
suffocate your cashmere spirit.
But I still
am an origami enigma,
sleepwalking in silence,
aching to reach the chandelier cinders
flickering above~
pillows of patience…
This I write not to the
crestfallen Luna,
but to the galaxies
twirling as moon-tulips
above lashes dusted with liquid lilac,
as I am a misplaced metaphor,
etched with empathy,
kohl tears on petals,
pricking fragile fingers,
like thistles of time…
I feel beyond what I breathe
and I see hidden hues,
for in my eyes~
there is no need for poetic phrases
when soul is tied to
the strings of immortal blossoms
in your garden of pristine petunias
l a c e d with
unbreakable vows…
Categories:
unwept, love,
Form:
Free verse
As I chant my sisters' creed,
And forge my talisman,
I remember violent lullabies
That I still can't understand.
I say if these wilds could be controlled,
With wants to habilitate,
Than why on Earth would fractured souls
Still thrive to fornicate?
So here I am,
My guise be true,
Thy young sorceress,
Controlled by wilds of casting spells,
And sensual naughtiness!
I bled for them,
I chased the sun,
Now I've tied my tourniquet.
Everything that once was blue,
Is now raging violet!
The Garden's dark,
The moon is full,
I dance while I undress;
In this place, this dance, this time,
I am Nature's poetess,
As if somehow,
Back long ago,
With boundaries overstepped,
I led a life,
Oh hearts do Scream!
I lived a life unwept!
Categories:
unwept, angst, introspection, life, nostalgia,
Form:
Is there anyone who would hear the dreams I conceive?
Profit, pleasure, protection - ‘tis all they know to love!
They would laugh at my hopes till I doubt what I believe.
They bury me deep so it’s quiet up above …
And I would forget all to gain sweet reprieve,
But then life is a gift I’d be unworthy of.
What in the end can one ever know, ever claim?
Does anyone understand the person, the concept?
Of the entire world I am not the one to blame.
No one wants to see, so all of my tears are inside unwept.
In the end, I must be the one who stays in the game!
I must be the one to myself accept.
Once again my eyes are glued- the screens enhance
Before me a lie, a trick befalls, that good ol’ football
Oh YES! They care to make sure I am in this loathsome trance
They care about me so long as they can play me- their idiotic doll
Does anyone really love me, “unique”, in this game of chance?
No. The only one who does is this half-empty glass of alcohol.
February 28, 2020
Title Chosen : Faceless Devotion
Contest : Does Anyone Care Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Emile Pinet
Categories:
unwept, abuse, allegory, anger, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
Walked six years, that way,
And watched this new suburb’s trend.
Near Mysore Highway,
Close to Bengaluru’s end.
Three storeys tall, stood,
This awesome tree-spread, so pretty.
Blue blossoms, good wood,
Half acre’s canopy.
‘Neath with sun-warmings,
Faded blue a carpet rose.
Of fallen, dried awnings,
Nature’s cycle, as it goes.
Hanging Traffic Lights,
Often, brushed by its branches.
Red light, hid from sights,
Officials, took no chances.
The machinery,
Was then set into motion.
People versus tree,
Few friends, one odd emotion.
The huge saws came in,
Chopping through, the whole, big tree,
Adding noise and din,
Workmen yelled, ‘Timber!’ in glee.
The earthmovers filled,
The gaping hole with rubble.
The tree was thus killed,
At great cost and much trouble.
The decorators,
Carted leaves to weddings halls.
Such deft creators,
Blooms to florists’ stalls.
The carpet-pile, twigs and chips,
All collected, swept,
Offals for funeral trips,
Departed unwept.
Their nests and hives gone,
The birds and the bees hovered,
Twittered , buzzed, flew on,
Their losses unrecovered.
The tree’s life on earth,
Cut short, for sale by auction.
Fetched a pittance’s worth,
The wood went for a fraction.
Traffic lights are safe now,
No mix-up of colour red.
Strange.. Green light, some how,
Blinks. Reminder of the dead.
Jacaranda tree,
God dressed your kind soul in wood.
You would have lived free,
You would have, lived, If you could.
Note: Offals: (OE for small twigs, straws etc used for lighting fire) Please Note:this poem (my original) is already entered in with Voices.net.com earlier...and i hope there is no objections to entering it here.
Categories:
unwept, happiness, introspection,
Form:
Unspoken Words Unwept Tears
Thoughts locked away and tears that fall no more.
The things tucked away that can no longer reach the surface are things that bring
such pain one would think they are going to die. There’s a place that holds all the
secrets so far out of reach the mind can no longer tell if they or even real. There
was a time when things were spoken aloud and thoughts took on real meaning.
I would whisper to you and beg you to listen to my heart and my needs. I wanted
you to look through my eyes. My whispers went unheard so I cried and pleaded
with you, won’t you hear me? I need you to do as you promised…This did not work
so I bargained and threatened. My tears soaked my pillow night after night. I cried
in the quiet with no one to hear!
You said, “You loved me and I would always come first”. What happened? I love
you and cannot understand. My heart has been torn to the core and my eyes
blurred with searing pain. The disbelief of such agonizing grief has scarred not only
my heart and eyes but my mind as well!
I just can’t argue anymore or try to make you see things my way. I thought I was
what you wanted, I was good enough for and you trusted me. I trusted you:
trusted that you loved me and that was all I needed know…
I can’t allow myself to think of these things that have been tucked away or allow
myself to cry any longer. My time was spent this way day after day and night after
night till I locked this part away. Now when I scream it is in silent only from within. It
never makes it to the surface. The tears that used to fall only wet my heart and fill
the cracks. They fall no more!
Debbie
Knapp
Categories:
unwept, sadheart, night, day, heart,
Form:
Narrative
Time changes...
Both people, and things
Both substance, and means
Until nothing... is as it seems.
And... You... Lost... Me...
When promises were unkept
When dreams were unmet
And... I have no tears for the us,
that I thought we would be
So... I guess they'll remain unwept.
And, you lost me
When you weren't my peace
But, my stress.
Not my solace,
But my mess.
When I thought you were a vault
for my private thoughts,
I discovered that you were the press.
And it hurt, I confess,
But still I prayed that you be blessed.
And... You... Lost... Me...
When your actions
didn't match your words
When your mentality
Was as flighty as a bird's
When you showed me that
I'd never have 100%
of your dedication
....Just a third.
That doesn't work,
in spite of what you've heard.
...And You Lost Me
...And You Lost Me
...And You Lost Me
Categories:
unwept, growth,
Form:
Blank verse
Voyagers, convene thyselves to return, among us...
Caesura, crown nigh clod, a sylph unwept,
elision thy silhouette, meno thy minuet...
Thine late occurence on thee, wake of cerise sand
Thou belief, like a billow, upon your whitish cheek,
'Twas marina bay, her twaddle a garb of mer,
A henchman docks, thy quay, girdles stymie ebbs,
but he cannot dream aloft a dream she confers...
O'er to woo hand in hand, thou overture unto Sirocco,
Plagues thy pirate ships, quakes men with mar,
His and his only demand, an aegis for lagoons amidst...
Once deluged, sun askew above, one abyss of bagatelles
Deters a tocsin, feign mooting mammals, thy kin a boon,
Aquatica, thee damsel for diminuendos, spurns thy sire,
Her gentle mettle, calls thee, His fervor season calentures...
Aloof thy celestial kisser, nay thy nine, vim domiciles solitary
Doomed skulls ravish, an age id by ice, culls thee, for chastity,
Some may not know, we died to have our love live, over and again,
Amity vows posy littoral seaflowers, buoys colonnades of adventure...
thence, cradles await upon matins, sail thy Oceanus genesis, amen.
Categories:
unwept, adventure, happiness, imagination, mother,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
by Michaelw1two
Inspired from poetic works by Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum
One’s love possess,
in truth’s fairness blessed upon such beauties face;
aglow on promised dream and then,
heart’s mercy known and given so;
trust’s pact sustains,
sweet bond of passion’s taste and loving sensed;
as life between exists,
this feeling moment’s will lives on.
My lips wet,
my heart so swollen, silences the murmur of my words to you;
in thought’s surpass,
heart’s needs bring solemn depths to passionate aches;
while on these loving tears I seek,
your living smile and love unwept;
graciousness of my quest eland elates,
this yearn of joy, and bind of soul soothe plays.
Upon your life,
passion glows and beauty pure displays love’s essence;
that light emits its precious bless,
lusciousness surrounds your glimmer;
filled full of compassionate breath, I am,
yet my soul is calmed and my mindset sleeps;
beheld, I give my gaze to your heart’s iris blazed;
seduction’s mists, remind love’s caution blindly.
Ah, love’s bliss,
from your beauty’s glow the morning’s bright does sheen;
what secret though, an inner deep,
so shrouds your grace filled figure;
oh, my words do chime,
these passions versed of all life’s memories charmed,
through midnights depth I yet dream,
in this quiet I quest, for your love’s envisioned mirror;
and I search these night’s suppressed,
for your glimpse, through these tears of shared enamour;
struggling thrillingly, with my soul’s compassion wept,
against these separations, from your passionate love and honour
Jan 2012
Categories:
unwept, love,
Form:
Ode
-another older poem re-posting -sorry!
Dark winds blow in an unwept hollow
Parting the dreary pathway to my abode
A syringe of chills inject my quivering pores,
A lifeless shutter—the single life near to alone
The space between waiting for the inevitable pull of tears,
The feeling of my hair swiping about my face,
Relieves me little from the breeze of whispering disgrace,
As light slowly begins to dim away
I feel the ache of the chill freeze my veins,
Because I remember…just how happy they were
I see the warmth and smile of every face
I see even her—dimming as the light fades
Another shutter brings me to hysterics, stammering at the sky,
Cursing the past—an alien-crazed lullaby
Words fall in an abyss of stillness
Never arising but arousing every inner bitter
A once sunny resemblance of wing-shaped hope
Is but a shattered illusion of fate
The brink of autumn mutters reveries
As fragments of summer and spring descend
A flock of mirrored leaves—dry as death’s gaping mouth
And colder than the stranger’s heart
My arms outstretched—my tears aloof
Eyes glued to the skies—where the treetops glower
As the brown and tomb-stoned leaves began to shower
One little leaf is suddenly seen within a gleam
As the remaining sun droops its eyes in a pensive doze
The wind allows those leaves to soar—only for a moment, till they drop
My eyes remain glued to that gleam before me
That one little leaf falls like all of the others
But it is strange how it floats and sinks
Lightly—charmingly—differently…
Though lifeless, cold…and dead
Categories:
unwept, allegory, animal, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
If music were but, mere dreams
What a bitter sorrowful waste this would be
Thus shadows, and to play a note
A meager reminder of a world without hope
Nexus of the heart blacker than grayer
Taste, loveless sapor than savor
Flowers wilt and will not, then they wither die
Laughter ends forthwith when only moments survive
Unmoving, undefining, joyous tears unwept, and never drying
Nor celebrations of song and dance relive or reviving
Simple songbirds mimic miming melancholy silent
Winds untheraputic cease, trees untickled lie dormant
That’s why I'm grateful for musical spiritual gifts
Through melodies, how Christ inspires and uplifts
Yes, if music were but, mere dreams
Then all of us sleepwalkers, a soul nonexistent, zombies in another reality
Categories:
unwept, hope, imagination, music, music,
Form:
Rhyme
*~*
In the house where love had died
Shadows echo off walls
As silent voices mysteriously cry their unwept tears
Vows broken
Promises stolen
And the soft whisperings of life are gone
In the quiet, unfriendly corners of the rooms
Dead soft, fingers of light-
Peek shyly through cold, shuttered windows
As the drip, drip, drip of rusty, unused faucets cry their tears
Begging for wet rivers of love…
That once ran through their flowing spigots…
Now sitting unused in their empty rooms
No more children’s voices ringing joyfully through the halls
Little finger prints that no longer trace the walls
Silent
Empty
No one lives here anymore
Never- could one love too much
But…
They could have loved in a false way,
Where everything beloved was naught
Never loved as it ought to be
The halls - in lonely grief they sigh
For those once loved no longer reply
The silence of love…
Voices that cannot sing again
Silent hearts which once sang their songs…
Quieted now…
Where love has gone
*~*
Categories:
unwept, angst, life, loss, sad,
Form:
Free verse
These ragged shards of breath, catching in my lungs with grasping fingers of jagged glass
Howling tormented wolves in my mind, clawing and shredding the last remnants of the last
Desperate attempts to live, temerarious in the quest to quench their thirst with blood
Monsters lurk in the shadows of my eyes, hungry for my conscious suffering
No rest, no peace, no sleep for sinners, servants to a greater ill, mindless revolutions of pain
Spinning endlessly in space, reaching for a cold and distant sun without the light of lies
A frozen, broken waste stretches in the expanse of my eyes, terror stalking ceaselessly
In every hidden juncture of the labyrinth of my mind, dark embodiments of hatred, shame, and anger
My eyelids are weighted, crusted in the sands of the blazing desert of my soul
Scraping away my retina with every blink, gasp, choke for air, smothering and breathless
Into infinity I carry loneliness, alone, unwept, unsung, swept into the vast waters of time
Drowning in the enormity of insignificance I wait, sleepless.
Categories:
unwept, anxiety, depression, loss,
Form:
Free verse