Disclosing Poems | Examples

My Heart Showed The Light

An uttered knowing, here within my soul,
My central tone, a hint both mild and pure,
It speaks of roads that bring me to my goal,
And warnings against baits I might endure.

When fears arrive, and twilight starts to creep,
It shows a light upon the righteous way,
Disclosing puzzles that my mind would keep,
And helps me see the mettle for the day.

It's not a scream, nor rumble in the air,
But soft directions in a quiet stream,
A stable knowlegde, ejecting despair,
Reviving my thoughts from a troubled dream.

So I shall attend, hear its artful plea,
This loyal advice, living inside me.

Three Rings Entice a Perfect Fit

Each ring alone
too big to fit,
slips on finger,
disclosing its excess.

Too tight the hold,
the urge to control.
Too much the hope 
to fill the void, 
the more it squeezes,
the embrace to yield.

But, when entwined and combined,
the three rings loop and interface
to make a perfect fit for finger.
A trinity in harmony.

Woven Worlds

Buoyant orange flames leap like a leopard stalking the sun. Posthumously, the mountain of smoke and ash collapsing on itself, selfishly stomping out joy, but for the Aurora Borealis, the joykill of skullduggery. Her light like song notes, tra-la-la-ing. Her beauty, unscrupulous, to the roaring volcanic beast.

northern lights
emeralds and pinks
disclosing
phantasm peaks
valleys of despair

Negativity not Welcome

No place for negativity in my mind-
I'll just try & leave that all behind.
Struggling within to let it all go-
So many things, no one can know.
Secrets I keep_ scenarios I'll never tell-
Not disclosing the fact I've lived through Hell.
Been there & back, seems I'm back there again-
Continuously paying the price for my sins.
I'm trying not to be pessimistic & clear off the table-
About to cross the line of being mentally stable. 
I can't allow myself to break into tiny pieces-
I won't let that happen,  I'll smooth out the creases.
No place for negativity in my mind-
Peace & positivity are what I seek to find.

Atrocious Eyes

Disclosing feelings can really shock
I've heard that eyes can talk.. 
In a manner which is completely quite
But at a point its alright...! 

Wanna apologize for all the lies.. 
But sorry... I've fallen in love with your eyes..! 

Your eyes are grey.. I know
As I used to observe it from long ago.. 

In the dark, I'm afraid
 for not matching my eyes with you.. 
As moments with you are already few.. 

Even imagined my future in your eyes... 
Laid in your arms with my cries.. 
Wiping my tears with the tissues
Clearing our all the issues..! 

And then I woke up from this dream.. Just realised
     That maybe we were meant for goodbyes..!! ?

Poetic Hide and Seek

Are we but dancers on an unlit stage
Disclosing secrets hidden in the angst of now
Revealing the ups and downs of then.
Singing in the choir of the off key
Whistling past punctuations grave yard.
Our words a chant to taunt the demons
Remind them that we are still here
That we have words and are not afraid to use them.

Do we not hide behind, and within
Each metaphoric medley of madness
Bare the essence of an eager soul
In the nakedness of our ramblings?
Children clamoring for attention
Making mud pies, walking through puddles,
Bravely turning off the night light
Yet still afraid of the dark.

But for myself, I warn you, I am here
Within the words I blend together
A guileless garment maker
Obsessed by the texture of the threads
Stitching errant words together
Into this patchwork that is me.
For I am here, peeking from within the fabric,
Modeling each moment on an unlit stage.

5th Avenue Sunrise

jampacked city streets
that jangled and banged
in the raucous jarring day
shifted
from business to boogaloo
squeezing into moonlight
party lights
gin and lime-kissed
gimlet sequined dress
strutted
in studded six-inch heels
riveting flair
provoking jive and jazzy nights
to tame this lion of New York

The bed swallowed the evening
sucked-up in slumbered
sobering snooze
exhaling the drunkard’s stench
while the warmth of whiskey
and you next to me
laid dreamy still

popped up and propped up
restless and ragged
realizing the changing view
through the dirt-stained window
a pool of placid sunrise
igniting
colorless clustered towers
bulwarks and girders
scraping the sky

out of the easterly clouds
a creeping golden palette
arose
touching every crevice
defining each silhouette
your body stirs deliberate and slow

rainbow hued eyes
slenderly slitted catching
the new-found light
opening, tenderly revealing
the landscape of your smile
disclosing
a cozy contentment

waking with hello
as I fall into your dream
and a new day

Ambush Hunter

Ambush Hunter

Raining, periodic glimpses
of eyes glinting, stripes disclosing
a tiger prowling through the forest:
peering, listening, smelling,
drooling, stalking, circling, pausing.

Thunder, lightning revealing
the tiger slinking in the tall grass;
crouching, recoiling, springing;
exposing the big cat running,
prey seeing, panicking, fleeing.

Panoramic vision flashing,
tiger leaping, clawing, biting;
animal stumbling, tumbling,
asphyxiating, dying;
tiger tearing, licking, eating.

Purple Roses

Peculiar purple roses, rare.
The buds are gently disclosing.
Humble, blessed birthday prayer -
Peculiar purple roses, rare.
Soulful journey and wisdom pair.
The quiet petals imposing -
Peculiar purple roses, rare.
The buds are gently disclosing.

Kim Rodrigues © 10/7/2022

God Is Not Hiding

God does not hide among the stars
Somewhere in forest’s dense foliage,
In the depths of distant seas
Or creeds of mystical faith traditions,
God is not confined to the minds of gurus
In the sacred blabbering of preachers
Even the beauty of nature’s cycles,
Or somewhere undisclosed to humanity.

God is not hiding, at all, my dear friend,
In all these things making him/herself evident
In all things disclosing the divine mind
In all things making clear the right paths.
God is not hiding, at all, my dear friend,
But resides there in your heart and mind
Revealing his/her will in omnipresence,
And, if you seek God, you will find God. 

SEVENTH PLACE WINNER
Written August 22, 2022
Submitted to "Where Is God" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker

Oh My Little Magpie

Oh dear, oh my, 
You poor little magpie, 
1 for sorrow is what is said, 
And here you sit solo twitching your head,
For where is your sweetheart 
Shouldn't you be together not apart
As the rhyme suggests
2 for joy is what comes next 
Oh my, oh yes  
A pair of magpies 
that's whats best
Sitting together twitching your heads
Until 3 for a girl and 4 for a boy pop out their eggs, 
In which case you'll need to build yourselves a pretty big nest. 

Let's hope the remainder of the rhyme rings true
And your family will be blessed too 
With precious metals that you'll find and fetch
5 for silver 6 for gold or so it's said to allege 
the glistening so mesmerising so hypnotising
You must have it, To stash in your collection that's ever rising 
Safely hidden in a location Mr magpie will not be disclosing or advertising. 
Because 7 Is the secret he plans to continue hiding

Whilst the Moon Begets My Love

The warm bed we keep is under siege this loving night
Ghostly shafts of the moon's light flicker to plunder my sleep
I stir with tender desire under diffused moonbeam's delight
Your warmth resides near to draw me closer to your cheek

In the darkened night I secretly kiss you tenderly
Your sleepy mystique with eyes closed lies profoundly deep
Under the lamp of the white-gold moon that renders my sight of thee
Your beauty appears, extolled as a sublime portrait while you sleep

Your breath so muted and low, your heart's sweet beating unfolds
Into the moonlight’s imparted glow that charms
Each line, every silhouette, disclosing your enchanted soul
Here as we lie as still as death sleeping in each other’s arms

Whilst the moon begets my love

She Is Not Just Any Old Ship

She is not just any old ship.
She is a warrior, tried and true.
USS Iowa.
I have a plethora of stories about her.
That I share with no one.
For to share would feel like being dismissive.
I cannot dishonor her by disclosing her secrets.
It would feel also like diminishing my time served.

Dusting

An Edvard Munch reproduction hangs demurely,
yet with a blushing come-hither
disclosing/unclothing.

A Van Gogh print
hovers near her like a sad and troubled lodger.
I sense his self-inflicted wound itching
under the bandages.

Flick goes the duster,
for a moment the diaphanous drape
covering Munch’s semi-naked girl flies away.
In his self-portrait, for an instant
Van Gogh’s lost ear returns.

I am putting the world to rights,
or maybe just my world.
Not correcting, just moving the artwork along
to where it was going, or should have not gone to
before it was set forever inside a jailhouse frame.

Unsung Verse

What's behind the terse, unspoken sound
One that abruptly inserted a period
Invoking a sigh in the middle of a sentence

Was it the uneasy voice of her heart's lyrics
Announcing your song is still incomplete
Or ambivalence of despondent music
Reluctantly strumming devoid of melody

Perhaps it’s time for your bashful words
To complement echo of the unsung verse

Disclosing explicitly to her anxious world:

You saw it in the smile of her cheerful eyes
And heard it from symphony of dulcet vibes
And felt it in the ballet of her delicate touch
When she held you close in an intimate hug
While mellifluous whispers of love spoke 

December 8, 2021

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