Long Unmarred Poems
Long Unmarred Poems. Below are the most popular long Unmarred by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unmarred poems by poem length and keyword.
RAVEN AND WREN
As the world wakes up
To the sun’s gentle rays of light
Frozen memories melt and flow
Penetrate but do not satiate
Moments of insipid sight
A scenery of incessant delight
As the raven chases the wren
Back to where it all began
With her faint song lulling
Pain starts dulling
A moment’s purity etched
As rain drizzled,
Delicate droplets fall
From faded denim skies
And the morning dew
Creates pigments of possibilities
But obscures her view
Morning whispers are hushed
Ever so fleeting yet captivating
As the gentle breeze whispers
Her secrets to the naked trees
The cold mist evaporate
Into the dark it dissipates
Blowing kisses in the air
Feel the wind in her hair
Echoes of a rose’s gentle trace
Drown in timeless space
In the calm of her strife
The moon’s beam scorches
Autumn’s tinted kiss fades
Silent gaze
Heart ablaze
A story remotely told
When time bends
Lion-licked wounds open
Defies all confines
Clandestine lovers
Air-tight kisses
Fan heart’s desires
Confronted dilemmas
Like fever it breaks
Raven and wren
You’ll learn by then
Dripped in longing
Gripped by foreboding
Air thick with anticipation
Hands outstretched
Quivering in trepidation
In a collective sense
Redolent of incense
Cigarette veils curling in the air
Cloud her judgment and leaves
Bittersweet residue in her hair
Like the most innocuous set of white lies
Yield unberable suffocating goodbyes
Hidden stairways,
Cedar-lined butler spaces,
Sliding bookshelves,
All unveil ghostly stories
Reminiscent of a lover’s past
Umami-textured taste
left cotton-mouth furriness
on their tongues
Charcoal charred
Love unmarred
Fermented and shunned
Raven and wren
'Til they meet again.
Your love cuts through me, this power controlling me is surreal
not realizing the buttons you push, and how you make me feel
an inner beauty unmarred, like a magnet, you drew me so close
mere sight of you was my healing, like vitamin C, my double dose
Take my hand and I'll show you, a world where you've never been
it is a perfect world, a world no one has ever seen, absent of sin
eyes to glimpse pure angels of light, as bright as the sun at midday
above space and beyond time, where unhappiness has no sway
Then I awoke and came to find, behold, it has all been but a dream
misled thinking we were in that realm, the realm of the supreme
reminded once again, with a heavy heart, that to love it takes two
but all I have found is a temporary escape, a lost love I once knew
remembering the tenderness of your voice, fond memories I did recall
running barefoot that night, hand in hand, with your rain soaked shawl
as the sun rose it revealed the beauty in your eyes, and then I could see
how captivated I was by your smile, waiting for your lips to set me free
I'm a prisoner of your love, a love that has me bound, it was meant to be
trying to free myself, chained by this sole desire, if you would now see
a chance to pledge my love, a love that only now made me understand
a way to become your soul partner, and enabling me to finally withstand
Release me from the confines of a lonely heart, and let those memories renew
days of the past give new life and meaning, with my love, for no one but you
so let the stars and moon be witnesses, for this pact that we will now forever make
and then once again I will close my eyes and dream, my love to never again forsake
CHRONICLES OF ALENE COLLINS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alene Collins, a tender soul in tumultuous terrain,
Touched by turmoil, torn by tenderness & pain.
She grew in her teenage testimonies, trials & tears,
She's her grandparents' guiding light across the years.4
Separated at birth, scared and unseen,
Sorrow silently settled in her serene.
Without a father's face, she learned to thrive,
A mother's love she longed to feel alive.8
Separated at birth, in silence she grew,
Her heartache hidden, her dreams askew.
7 years young, her grandparents' arms she found,
Firm foundations 'midst chaos she abound.¹²
Fractured bonds with a mom who drift
And whose choices caused aching rifts,
Frayed edges of their bond breached & swift,
Broken & burdened with unspoken shifts.¹6
Fueled by love, though bruised and scarred,
Fathomless forgiveness, her heart unmarred.
Despite the pain her mother's actions bade,
Love and respect within her heart stayed.²°
Fighting demons, depression's dawning frown,
Frail fragments of hope, her darkness did drown.
Facing forwards forlornly, fighting fears,
Flourishing through floods of fallen tears.²4
Grandma's guidance, a strict & sturdy hand,
Guarding gently in her life's shifting sand.
Through the fog of hardship, she found her way,
Glistening resilience in the light of day.²8
Alene Collins, a tale of strength untold,
In her resilience, she holds a heart of gold.³°
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Aliteration/Rhymes
Copyright ©?29th February 2024.
The night and dark comes earlier each evening
lost between twilight looming on the horizon,
pushing aside the sun’s revealing
of the darkness that simply is.
Shortening days disappear between the trees
forcing the sun to fade from yellow to pale white,
and the once abundant harvest dies with ease
and is gone as quickly away she disappears.
The dark is black and silent as it comes
hovering as if it were known yet is an unfamiliar shadow
that creeps in uninvited with a stinging wind that numbs
threatening wet days filled with snow to cover the meadow.
The sky displays tiny dots of twinkling light unmarred
far distant glowing points with small icy fingers
that curve around the big dipper and other unnamed stars
that still stretch out to guide us on our paths unhindered.
The waning moon is hidden by drifting spartan clouds
barely visible as the dark takes full control
and each step is carefully cautioned by our mental shrouds
with an onslaught of an unassuming light snow.
We are prisoners now within our homes
held cold, safe from shivering but in awe
of the power of the night and change of seasonal tones
with a hoar frost that holds us here to spring begins the thaw.
It is the winter of the full moon and morning sun
touching us with a blanket of cold bare emptiness
that will not soon enough be done
bringing shorter days and harsh, cold cruelness.
Here comes the night of winter time
waiting patiently at your door.
September 16, 2015
You snuggle in beside me,
claiming the crook of my arm,
like the last piece of our favourite puzzle
finally finding its place.
I rest my cheek against your precious head,
waiting for this moment to land
so I can try to catch it, hold it,
before it skitters away.
It's hard to be present these days
when my mind is a turbulent ocean,
each worry crashing endlessly into the next,
stealing my breath.
Stealing a lot of things.
I'm scared, baby girl.
But I won't let you see it.
If I can catch this moment... if I can hold it.
If I can feel your warmth beside me,
hear your little breath inhale, exhale,
like the first summer breeze
moving the cold fog of morning...
then hope will crest.
It will push the worries to shore
until they recede like mere foam,
turning jagged rock into polished stone.
I take in your big, blue eyes,
your halo of light hair,
the way your nose crinkles as you smile up at me.
Your face is the sun, unmarred by worry.
Your eyes are full of joy and curiosity and mischief.
I can see you years from now,
kindness and grace wrapped in steely strength,
persisting through shadows that already lurk --
shadows I will hold off for as long as I can.
I can see you forging dreams you haven't dreamt up yet.
And I... I hold on desperately,
already feeling this moment skitter away,
torn from my grasping fingers.
Because I never thought my dream --
my greatest hope for you,
for your brother,
for all of us --
would be peace.
Treachery,
An angel that was unfathomable,
Ruling your nightmares when I should have been purifying your every thought.
I failed you at my job,
But even from the start,
I gave you porcelain veins and a glass heart.
So beautiful and unmarred.
Why do I get a second chance?
When we rebelled and sparked treason,
And there came divine intervention,
My duty became to die,
The world was better off without such a fallen,
Disgrace for a guardian.
Breaking the rules was easy at first,
Though the guilt was hard,
I gave up my will to fight,
I layed down all my cards.
In your hand was a full house,
I held the Joker's face full of scars.
You defeated me and claimed me,
And with that claim,
They clipped my wings.
My wings were clipped and I had reached demise,
Until I got one more chance at life.
This is nothing like they said it would be.
This is nothing they could have verbalized.
So live life and believe the lies,
It's easier that way.
What's permanent now will be unglued,
The right hand men will become spies.
I will see what happens next,
All I know is if they have taken you,
I have nothing left.
My forbidden love was a foggy trance,
Hypnotizing me and better yet,
Giving me something to protect.
I loved you with all of my eternal mind,
That's why even if it's impossible,
I'm not leaving you behind.
Forever, we will never die.
Spending an early morning by the iridescent bay,
body delighted by a whipping breeze:
it's humid and hazy under swollen clouds
that foretell an up-coming storm;
on both side of the parkway
cars speed by, and drivers
have no clue that a traffic cop
is scanning it on the radar!
Some may not go far:
there, the flashing lights of the siren;
I am glad that I obey that law,
while some offenders smirk at a fine!
As the wailing wind progresses on,
so does the intensity of the muggy air;
it supposed to be a festy, sunny day
to unwind and enjoy some sun,
but does Nature think that nasty weather is fair
or is it spiteful, unyielding and tricky?
On a rough checker's table made of oak,
I'm writing my observations
as beach-goers seem to have deserted it;
on a normal day it echoes of music,
of voices so loud and deep!
Now, hungry pigeons and seagulls
feast on wiggling fish,
unmarred by my presence...
that can provoke my appetite,
thinking of a tasteful dish!
Tired of walking the long stretch of beach,
I take off my tinted sunglasses
smudged by dripping sweat;
I'm burning like a lizard in need of relief...
my sunscreen has worn off!
Few more steps, the car door opens:
clothes neatly folded on the back seat,
raindrops hit the windshield as I pick up speed!
I am the watchman on the hill,
My brother’s cry, I hear it still.
Though shadows stretch and winds grow wild,
I’ll cross the dark to find the child.
Not born of blood alone is kin,
But shared the fight we hold within—
When sorrow knocks or hunger calls,
My hands become the sheltering walls.
His burden is not his to bear,
If I walk by and do not care.
The chain that binds us, forged in fire,
Was made to lift, not climb up higher.
When he is weak, then I must rise;
To clear his path, to dry his eyes.
For what am I, if not a friend
Who stays when storms refuse to end?
No stranger’s fate is far from mine,
The hurt of one disturbs the spine
Of justice, mercy, love, and grace—
We share the wound, we share the place.
Let others turn their eyes away,
I’ll kneel beside him where he lay.
The voice of Cain may haunt the land—
But I shall reach with open hand.
For every soul, though bruised or scarred,
Is held in sacred trust, unmarred.
And I, though flawed and often blind,
Must be the keeper I would find.
So bind my heart to duty deep,
That I might guard, that I might keep—
Not just my brother, but the way
That leads us to a kinder day.
Author: Floyd Neal
Date: May 2, 2025
Inspiration: Being My Brothers Keeper
Cast adrift alone to endlessly Guard.
That which the gods have left entirely unmarred.
Endowed with gifts enough to reach the stars.
Limited only by his inner scars.
For although this lonely figure be ready and able.
His inner goings are anything but stable.
Chaos and order fight tooth and nail.
Seeking to be the one to finally prevail.
However balance rules all and to this he is but a slave.
For divergence from its path will take him straight to the grave.
But fate his mistress will not grant him this end.
And to her he will always have to depend.
That which he protects is a most precious jewel.
Its scarcity can be called naught but cruel.
For the Guardian is of the jewel, and it of him.
Either may cause each to forever become dim.
The chaos inside him seeks this thing most dark.
But order be watchful, ready to light a spark.
Perpetual sustainment is his curse and joy.
For in many ways the guardian is just a boy.
Young and curious he casts wistful glances above.
Staring deep into the speckled darkness full of love.
For although the guardian is forced to wait and dream.
His heart is bursting at the seam.
To leave his lonely, troubled post.
This is what he wants the most.
And, rising, bless the Cimmerian shade of night
With cupped snowflake-skin flowing, bathed in sultry rebirth
Praise the darkness that impregnated your essence with light.
Now permeated with scent of ashes, grasp with might
the memories of a child once holy in its innocence of mirth
And, rising, bless the Cimmerian shade of night.
And gaze raptly, effervescent, drunk with flight –
into the Neverwere of existence that soured your birth
Praise the darkness that impregnated your essence with light.
When young, you were all-ignorance – in lack of sorrow, bright
Smote the mocking fruit of knowledge: caress with stable blaze the earth
And, rising, bless the Cimmerian shade of night.
With scars that unfurl like ribbons of wings you will alight
Entwine your luminescence with those unmarred before the curse –
Praise the darkness that impregnated your essence with light.
You misconstrued the pain that seared, but now you fight
No longer complacent, idle –embrace the warrior death brought forth
And, rising, bless the Cimmerian shade of night –
Praise the darkness that impregnated your essence with light.
**Inspired by Dylan Thomas's "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night"