Long Unshed Poems
Long Unshed Poems. Below are the most popular long Unshed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unshed poems by poem length and keyword.
If rain poured
in susurrating sounds
of unshed tears,
will ungrateful dialects
change their insincere
expressions of speech,
or will this unheard
voice forever be
lost as echoes within
glass walls,
where lilac-feathered
letters of farewell
written in red diamonds,
illustrate illusive
narratives of an onyx heart
haunted by
holographic
harmonies,
in glitters of retro line art~
to graphically craft
cacophonous chronicles of
unexpressed trauma,
engrossed in cursive candor,
while this quivering quill remains
dipped in purple
pansies and primrose poetry,
glorifying indigo intuitions
that bleed in
blue-black and burgundy
But, I still keep
surfing in sizzling silence
towards saffron-streaked
sunsets resembling
the wisteria warmth
of your embellished embrace,
awakening from lucid
dreams of sparkling
silhouettes of us,
when I was uncontrollably
lost in your
pillow-shaped eyes,
counting silver stars hanging
on long lashes with lilac dust,
forgetting the times
I was caught in the
riveting rhythm of
lemonade lies.
For in your
amorous arms,
every qualitative question
within incomplete
puzzles of life and loss,
unravels appealing answers
with carnation compassion,
upon corners of
crumpled pages,
where initials of
your flowery
name is a
timeless token,
of love that still exists~
in this woeful world
of hate from heinous hyenas.
But these starry stones
of turquoise trust
shall be the
clandestine clemency
that holds this
unwritten tale of survival.
For, I am unapologetically poetic~
rewriting fuschia future
on pastel colored
paper parachutes,
letting go of twisted
tones cloaked with
jealous January winds at dawn,
as cinnamon gold sequined
skies reflect magic within
misty mirrors,
to begin again
as April crawls back,
knocking on the
laser-lavender portal
adorned with teal-cerulean
wings of our whimsical fairyland…
The surging storm splitting apart the falling sky,
blows with the harrowing fury in the wan mind wiry,
the flaring wrath burns like blazing badland in a flash,
scorching the desiccated soul to a stack of still ash.
When thunderous storm of sorrow pours dismal rain,
the shattered heart drowns in the dungeon of pain,
the banks of mind break, eroded by dense despair,
the river of affliction in full flood flows in nightmare.
When opaque nights are moonless and dull days hazy,
to steer the life adrift in the mist of maze is not easy.
When garden flowers turn pale and pasture grass brown,
the unshed tears fill up my mind where all hopes drown.
In enthused draft the gloomy cloud drifts out of sight,
as the shining stars glitter bright in the moonlit night,
through the radiant air the satin surfs of stardust flow,
my mind drinks the ambrosia of joy from its astral glow.
I don’t drown dreams in the sea of despair, travel content
on the segments of new road I pave in my time present,
not feeling the mind lose the way, I let it delve inside,
that’s where I discover the abode of ecstasy to reside.
______________
January 24, 2023
Contest : How Do You Feel
Sponsored by : Mystic Rose Rose
Softly, it lowers itself from above,
an adagio of light,
whispering eternities into the crevices in the air,
so pure it makes the silence around it audible,
a muted chorus for its song.
A voice that is an androgyny of original beauty,
divorced from Man and Woman,
or harking back to a time when they were one,
a tone so untainted,
it cannot have come from emotion,
yet in its echoes is a boundless empathy,
one that grieves for pain, aches for desire,
cries for loss, hope for hope,
for it is an innocence that nonetheless
understands the burden of humanity
and the price of life,
and in its luminous soarings,
offers a promise that
all this soon will pass.
Then this lone voice is joined by an epiphany of angels,
sonorous with a lullaby for tired souls.
Sing, boys, sing,
before manhood takes away the angel in you,
before a thirst for laughter coarsens your throat
and grounds its weightless timbre,
before tears shed and unshed
salt your voice into a cynic’s cackles,
and you join the calloused throngs
to whom you now choir.
For your voice will soon fall
through clouds and octaves to earth,
and, so fallen, forever lose its
wings.
From beneath the patina of the rusted times
on the surface of the marooned mind
I uncover a buried pathway in the dusty memory
on which the tormented thoughts travel backward
to the deserted room, its peeling walls pasted with
pieces of frosted mirror of the shattered past,
still hanging uncared in dust.
The last rays of the setting sun
enters the room through the window I keep open
to the twilight when all the faces I once knew
dissolve in the flushing gleam of the dying day
but for the one that glows like the crimson sun unset,
the descending night hasn’t yet shrouded in oblivion.
I see a pair of pensive eyes with frozen drops of tear
poised unshed on the eyelid petals, looking at me
the forlorn way they did when I left her for good
in the dusk a long time ago.
That time hasn’t yet lost its way
in the meandering memory lane, her fragile face
appears unushered so often on the broken mirror
of my desolate mind that reflects tiny drops of tear
in the deserted corner of her pleading distant eyes
I want to forget.
October 5, 2018
Mystique mist Shrouds the penultimate pathway
to the future fading Away in the obscurity haze.
At the onyx edge of Night the tunes of sunset swansong sway
the Gloomy facade of forlorn life, silhouetted still always
against the sunk somber skyline Upon the stormy sea.
The Insipid shards of shattered hope afloat as dejected debris
flow to Nowhere in the dormant stream of the unshed tears.
The remnant rays of resurgence survive Inside for years,
designing The latent lattice of dreams spreading to infinity,
swathes the listless life in the Yearning sphere of sanguinity.
In Florida's land, where horror's dance,
A tale of darkness, a macabre trance,
Whispers echo through death's domain,
Of botched executions, haunting pain.
Within those chambers of somber despair,
Where lives are tethered by the politician's snare,
Justice, is sought, with trembling hands,
But fate plays out a wicked, evil stand.
The first scene unfolds, a chilling sight,
As veils of lethal fog blanket the night,
The chemical concoction, a deadly brew,
To end a life, as the law construes.
But nature, in her cruel jest, did jest,
And tremors shook the chamber's breast,
The veins refused to yield their prize,
As life endured, against all demise.
Witnesses watched in awe and fear,
The agony, the failure, all too clear,
The reaper's grip, a fleeting grasp,
A botched finale, a grievous lapse.
And yet again, the gallows called,
A stage for justice, where souls were enthralled,
But darkness loomed, a looming cloud,
As time stood still, in silence, proud.
The hangman's noose, a deadly shroud,
Was cast upon a soul, as whispers vowed,
But fate, with twisted hands, did play,
And life endured, despite the fray.
Florida's soil, now stained in red,
With echoes of horrors, the tears unshed,
In the quest for justice, so grave and dire,
The heartache lingers, a ghostly choir.
For who can claim the righteous path,
When faltering steps invite the wrath?
The specters of the botched remain,
Their haunting cries, an everlasting stain.
In Florida's land, where shadows creep,
And troubled souls find no solace, no sleep,
Let us remember the lessons taught,
Of flawed endeavors, human thoughts.
For in the depths of these chilling tales,
Resides a truth that never pales,
That justice sought with blemished might,
Is but a phantom, lost in night.
In the seamless sky of my fervent freedom
I let the enraptured songbird of heart soar high,
gliding in the spring-rippled amorous breeze
that carried your jasmine fragrance to me,
until the splitting thunder storm surged in
from your hazy horizon receding to obscurity,
anguish of desertion crushed the wings of longing.
The crippled bird folded the collapsed wings,
painfully crumbled like autumn’s dislodged dry leaf
in my mangled mind that turned into pangs of grief,
desolate in ruined nest made of emotion called twig.
The ruptured voice untuned the bird’s song,
disabled flight of subdued passion lost the sky,
chilled to stillness in the shadow of winter cloud.
Unshed tears froze in the blue crevasse of glacial gloom,
the pain of broken heart languished frozen unexpressed.
What in the end you would remember of me…
an off-course forlorn fading star losing the orbit,
sucked up by the blue hole of dense despair,
where the soul disappeared in timeless oblivion.
May 16, 2021
For Brian Strand's Contest : A Brian Strand Your Pick
For my son
A mother dreams through the silent night,
and in tranquil hours of morning’s twilight;
Of days gone by, of laughter shared,
her heart now heavy, her soul laid bare.
Across the seas, her son resides,
in distant lands where novel life hides;
She feels his absence in the air,
a tender ache, a whispered prayer.
She recalls his steps, his youthful glee,
the way he’d run so wild and free;
The stories read, the songs they’d sing,
the comfort of every simple thing.
These messages, calls, and pictures sent,
are fragments of where moments went;
She clings to words and smiles afar,
Her guiding hope, her brilliant star.
In soft breeze that caresses the day,
in rosy sunset’s warm display;
She feels his presence, near yet far,
Her love for him, a constant star.
She wonders if he eats enough,
if nights are cold or days are tough;
If he still wears that old blue coat,
the one she mended, hem and throat.
Her heart is filled with pride and fear,
a mix of joy and unshed tear;
For though he’s grown, he’s still her child,
in foreign lands, in ways so wild.
Yet in her dreams, they meet once more,
on shores familiar, at her door;
She hugs him tight, her heart complete,
in cherished memories, their souls do meet.
And so she waits, with love’s sweet grace,
for time and space to close their place;
A mother’s heart, so wide, so true,
forever beats for him, anew.
Written August 6, 2024
© Dr Upma A. Sharma
A house of dreams, walls start to shake,
Echoes of laughter, filled with heartache.
His dreams fast cars and narcotic deals,
She was lost in those fake stolen feels.
She counts the days, shadows creep,
Each phone ring, her heart leaps
In his arms, she felt she could fly,
Bottle stole him, she said her goodbyes.
Once danced under the moon, feeling alive,
Shadows move where hope used to thrive.
She is out of time, money’s gone dry,
Bill collectors circle, vultures in the sky.
She made a mistake, he turned to dust;
Should have grabbed the one she could trust.
Hands calloused, he knew how to mend,
Pushed him away when he needed a friend.
Stares at photos, her time used to glow,
Reality comes, her past beauty won’t show.
Thought she'd find love in reckless nights,
Her road leads me back to those fights.
She is out of time, money’s gone dry,
Bill collectors circle, vultures in the sky.
Her mistake when he turned to dust;
Stabbed in the heart the one she could trust.
Regret, heavy stones weigh on her soul;
If she knew what it took to be truly whole.
Ghost of choices haunt Courthouse halls;
All that remains are lawyers and calls...
She is out of time, money’s gone dry,
Bill collectors circle, vultures in the sky.
Her mistake when he turned to dust;
She did not grab the one she could trust.
She stands at the crossroad, tears unshed,
Knows no hope, her dreams are dead.
The life she chose, shadows cling tight
No more chances, she has lost the fight.
Eyes speak so much, yet nobody listens,
Eyes are the gateway to the soul, but nobody is seeking,
I look down in fear of those who judge me, only sound I hear, is those who are quick to point out the wrong...
Maybe I should just be gone...
Eyes speak so much, yet nobody cares,
Eyes give so much away, yet everyone only stares,
Eyes bring so many feelings, yet I'm ashamed to share..
My heart is hurting, my eyes are filling with unshed tears,
From so many unforgiving, hurtful years, of keeping my feelings a secret, will anyone give me the gift of taking me by the hand, and asking three simple words, "Are you o. K??
Eyes are wide open now, a small smile beckins to come out,
Eyes are softened, heart begins to feel again, Thank you for your gift of time, it truly means the world...