Best Unworn Poems
The Hidden Nature Trail
While I was hiking one soft summer morn
beside a streamlet flowing through a dale,
I found a narrow nestled path unworn
which led me down a hidden nature trail.
I walked amongst the pine trees standing tall
along the hidden trail their shadows cast;
I heard a song bird chirp his mating call,
and reminisced sweet moments from my past.
The hidden path meandered far and near
and ended by a pond of sapphire blue
with splashing birds and water crystal clear,
and sirens bathing in the morning dew.
I wonder was this but a reverie,
or is it just my secret fantasy?
November 24, 2023
firkins and gherkins and whistles and shoes
cluster bombs, punji stakes, death in the news
choppers chattering
napalm splattering
a carpet bombed mind with asian war blues
cracked vinyl records and medals unworn
black and white photo, ex-soldier unshorn
wheeling chair
graying hair
a beaded necklace with peace sign well worn
tobacco stained fingers shake with a curse
lips pull a drag with help from a nurse
flares ignite
will he fight?
a battle goes cold, memories submerse
wheeled to a corner, he stares at a wall
that others can’t see, for him it is all
locked within
he can’t win
a war without end... unspeakable gall
You belong somewhere in the vast cosmos
where the idiomatic idioms were born
I started to wonder and cry,
Lord, have mercy; this is not I.
I felt as if years had passed! along with age! farewell
oh, we soar to an infinite place to dwell.
The last goodbye was the hardest,
we never got to say our final adieu
remember how we danced near stardust?
They say that tears are a sign of weakness,
so I held back my tears
to ease the pain, I buried it in the hollows of my heart.
Yet, they poured into my empty soul
tearing me apart with deep cuts
even the most idyllic love must die
was it not because of love's cries?
will leave a scar to stultify it...
I shall bleed and grieve till the wounds heal
making room for unworn pain,
to experience sorrow again.
Written: February 05, 2023
1st place contest winner
I Felt Like Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Blue topaz delight constantly in motion
forcing up salty waves of might
Feel the sand under your feet,
feel it ride back to the sea
Cool wet ocean aroma
crashing on the rocks of the border
Spray forth into the air
Dried sea squirt upon my face, skin and hair
Drift wood beaten by the master,
you lay stretched out with seaweed stuck to your side
dehydrated from the sun, reshaped, unworn, overdone
The sea is unkind to all that enter her blind
For she has a mind of her own
To many a tale she’s has claimed
twisted ships, boats and all that were maimed
Rest quietly now on her sands of splendor
For when night approaches all must surrender
Written: July 10, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Brian Strand
******************
To read a poem
is not to hear one
it is to enter
through the quieter door
the voice arrives later.
First—
the white between words,
the hush that carries them,
the margin where pen pauses,
leaving ink to dry
the breath
the reader...
does your pulse
alter, too,
when language
refuses haste?
like dust motes
floating in the air.
A poem
asks almost nothing—
only
your eyes,
your unborrowed attention
the age-old act of awareness
of remaining
stay on board
let the line
find its own weather
seek its own skies.
Do not rush
the syllable
still gathering rain
turn
the page
as though
a raw light enters the room
opening a window
not a feed
the world need not refresh
to become unworn.
Reading a poem
is the opposite
of swallowing
while elsewhere
it is the slow intelligence
*of tea
cooling against the lip
*of bread
remembering grain
*of light
crossing a wooden floor
one patient inch
at a time.
Your breath
learns
the measure
it misplaced
even silence
develops texture—
velvet,
salt,
the gentle spirit—
of introspection
the soft mineral
of whimsy.
The Scroll
counts
motion
the poem
counts
returns
one consumes
your noticing.
The other
returns it,
leaf by leaf,
until language
is no longer
something you read
but something
that reads. . . . . .you.
A CHRISTMAS POEM
Scattered floors with scarlet wraps,
A sturdy, firm, Christmas tree.
The smell of pinecones fill the air
As I search for you and me.
I’m looking for you because
I believe in destiny and fate.
That I met you for a reason,
But the reason, it shall wait.
Through our sporadic discussions
And strange remarks,
And our insightful silences
And unique embarks,
I have discovered that you,
You are cognizant of almost everything.
And that to find you, all that must simply be done
Is to find an aura constantly varying.
And the reason why I search for me
Is the same as why I search for you.
Like how I’m still uncovering your character,
Because I’m doing it for me too.
Even though it’s not Thanksgiving,
I think Christmas is the perfect time
To say a simple thanks and let you know,
You have an incredible mind.
They say miracles happen when
A man rides in the sky,
But I think they happen every day,
Even though they pass us by.
It’s just that we don’t recognize
What kindness is until we see
what people do and say
and the people they could be.
Christmas isn’t special because
We get gifts or because someone was born.
It’s the laughter and feelings
Shared and unworn.
I’m searching for you because
I need to say these things,
Like how you’re atrociously amazing,
and tell you about the gifts you bring.
We’re always far out but we always come back
To a small and homey place.
I hear music, smell fresh made cookies,
See wreaths and hanging laces.
There are scattered floors with scarlet wraps
A sturdy, firm Christmas tree.
The smell of pinecone fills the air,
As I search for you and me.
My snow boots weren’t meant for snow.
I bought them several years ago
In summer – I was Ireland-bound,
Expecting puddles on the ground.
They’re hiking boots, not very high,
But waterproof to keep one dry.
I’d have no reason to complain
When Irish skies would spit out rain.
My trip was glorious and, funny,
Every day was bright and sunny.
Nestled snugly in my case,
The unworn boots hogged too much space.
Still, I’ve used them lots since then
When stormy weather comes again.
I stomp through slush piles on the street,
No drops or dampness on my feet.
I’m grateful to my Ireland tour,
Preparing me so I’d be sure
To buy the perfect boots to wear
In snowstorms here or rainstorms there.
I once knew of an intimate warm place
it was inside your arms soft closed embrace
we were young and the sky was always blue
words meant a lot and for us still rang true
time had no alarm and held no meaning
your every smile touched my inner being
we lived a life of light and love as one
many hours spent sizzling in the beach sun
drifting in our haze we woke up one day
no memory of Happy’s merry way
nine months later we found an unworn path
leading to a new place and aftermath
bouncing baby’s breath brought back our happy
despite her friendship with dirty nappy
A futile, or is it? scream at time to slow down.
A hello to other runners in this human race
A timid whisper through shrouds yet unworn
Some more words of comfort to following friends
Or just an ego seeking solace in achievement.
loose threads, holes and worn spots
faded naturally
his story told in these old genes
left unworn for so long
beloved denim lives on
hidden beneath the casket lid
11/11/2017
KNIT YOUR FABRIC - Poetry Contest
Nette Onclaud
glorious day calls
donning summer's broad-brimmed hat
for LOVE of sunshine
locate garden shoes
unworn since last november
garden work my FUN
laggard spring was late and cold
urgent..seeding must get done
dig them up and put them in
setting sets in ..seeding seeds
hoeing, raking, composting
POETRY alive
Won a 5th with this
By: Joyce Johnson for Linda's contest "Fun & Frolic" (3 forms)
caress me with soft love
and a lullaby it would sing a starry night
up above
fierce flame will burn
harmony of passion will light
unworn
breath kiss
by candle light
bliss
fleeting glance awakes Love
bathing in afterglow moon's light
bliss
3/5/2021
Minichu form by: Mohan Chutani
to late for the contest
1. This is a New form of Rhyme named MlNICHU (proposed by Mohan Chutani)
2. Total12 lines (4 stanzas of 3 lines each)
3. Rhyme scheme: Aba, cBc, dbD, ABD.
4. 4th stanza consists of repeat of 1st line of stanza1, 2nd line of stanza 2, and 3rd line of stanza 3.
Poem should stick to a chosen theme through all stanzas. A twist can be introduced in third stanza, if required by the theme, to make it more interesting.
5. Syllable count :
Stanza 1: 6,12,3 (3 times 2,4,1)
Stanza 2: 4,8,2 ( 2 times 2,4,1)
Stanza 3: 2,4,1
Stanza 4: 6,8,1.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cedar fragrance floats softly in the air
like old ghosts awakening after sleep.
Inside, yellowed envelopes carry
the silent burden of hands
that never delivered their confessions.
A brittle map traces borders
that dissolved with the century's breath.
In the probing moonlight,
tarnished brass hinges moan.
Beneath folded sweaters,
apologies fossilize,
and grief settles like dust
on unworn wedding lace.
A sapphire brooch recalls
the heartbeat under a collarbone
where it pinned courage tight
until surrendering.
Trapped light holds
what daylight wouldn't understand.
Within attic walls
the lid groans echoing
how memory bends
under its own weight.
Secrets don't suffocate here~
they become the wood's grain.
My candle is lit for hope and the future
we need to stop acting as total losers
Stronger than the greatest military power
decorate the Christmas tree with love and flowers
We have all failed our dream of the earth
count your blessings ... a new glorious birth
Tomorrow breaks a unworn and glorious morning
Gilded bells in fluffy threads as adorning
Merry Christmas
20.12.2022
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
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"Tell me and I forget.
Teach me and I remember.
Involve me and I learn." Quote By: Benjamin Franklin
My love, touch me, hold me, kiss me.
Words come easy, action I see.
Tell me, I'll forget, won't return.
Teach me, involve me, and I'll learn.
Your words melodize warms my heart,
Show me and it won't fall apart,
But absorb and warmly return.
Teach me, involve me, and I'll learn.
As we lay and wound in the dark
Light enough kiss to start a spark,
Your gentle touch I love and yearn.
Teach me, involve me, and I'll learn.
My love, touch me, hold me, kiss me.
Years later we'll cherish you'll see
A note in my mind burns unworn.
Teach me, involve me, and I'll learn.