Long Unstained Poems
Long Unstained Poems. Below are the most popular long Unstained by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unstained poems by poem length and keyword.
I emerged / born with a silver pen in hand
…and a tempest raging within.
Words writhe, a serpent's coil
…tightening their grip
A soul adrift in a sea of
…self-made iniquity.
I buried my daddy
…in the black shoe
…by the Yew tree
Yes, I, the beekeeper’s daughter
…bearing the weight of hexagonal cells
A hive of memories
…buzzing with secrets.
The bell jar shattered
….a fractured hive.
Its glass walls no longer a prison
…but a shattered cocoon
……a metamorphous!
Pain and disdain drip like honey
…a bittersweet nectar of survival.
He, a poet
…crowned in the harsh light of fame
Bound in chains of duty and shame
His words
…a romance of lure and alarm.
Echoing the sirens' song
…enticing and harmful.
Yet, his tongue
…a viper’s forked lie.
Whispers truths and half-truths
…conjuring illusions to die.
Wandering the maze of being
A little fugue of
…fractured fairytales.
Each note a fleeting glimpse of clarity
Lost in the discordant
…cacophony of life's emptiness.
Like my "Little Fugue" a dance of shadows
A journey through the corridors of the mind
Seeking answers in the interplay of light and dark
Striving for harmony amidst the chaos
Parchment of blood and ink I leave
A riddle of life and death's plea
Maniacal madness with visions slight
A macabre dance upon the night.
Ariel, brings lightning and fire!
With heavy heart
…I sealed my children's room.
Softly kissed them farewell
……Extinguishing the final flame within.
Enveloped in oblivion's velvet veil
………Yielding to the oven’s cold caress.
…………No, more morning songs...
Inscribed a cryptic goodbye
Breathed in the silent slayer.
For, I Lady Lazarus
…Dying is an art
……Faded into the ether…
Her blacks crackle and drag, a fire of new birth
Flames licking at the borders of life
Consumed by oblivion's greedy blaze
Lost in the vast cosmic ray.
The embers die
…a fleeting spark gone
No masterpiece
…….just dust reclaimed
A silent echo in the void unstained.
A mystery lost
………never quite explained.
Yet, God's Lioness
...Fierce and Untamed
Roaring her defiance
…Covered in darkness…
----
Underneath the star-strewn skies
A fleeting passing note.
Lost in the vast expanse
Living on the edge
For, I am but a speck of dust.
“If you would merge with oneness, vaporise!
Be a child again, welcoming surprise!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Immersed in limitation
Shrouded in darkness
Feeling thus confined
We flounder about
Hither and thither
Searching for joy
Bliss in permanence
Yet our heart senses
That we are far more
Than this mind body
With senses externalised
Lower mind fragmenting
Trying to piece together
The puzzle of life
Without success
Thus in delusion
Hypnotised by illusions
We strive and struggle
Hoping for a miracle
Which instantly appears
No sooner we ask
As voice of conscience
Echoing Gods will
Which has but one vibration
Love unconditional
Here begins a struggle
Between head and heart
Between ego and the divine
Former seizing, grasping
The latter, sharing, connecting
We recognise
That the voice of truth
Is that of conscience
Yet, we fear to lose
Fleeting images garnered
Or which we yearn for
Since we are clinging
To ego mind body
Stagnating in ferality
Trapped by our own hand
Unable to escape
It is then
That God in His compassion
Extends us a hand
Showing us the clear light
Of immutable truth eternal
By posing challenges
By signalling the futility
Of chasing a mirage
Illusionary thought forms
Which is what
All manifestations are
Thus when so graced
We begin to look inwards
In silence and stillness
Thought rested awareness
Doing nothing
Simply resting
Poised in the void
Of no-thingness
Desireless
Fearless
Detached
Nonchalant
Unexpectant
In timeless time
In as ordained
Attention is softened
Thoughts are quietened
Ego cravings recede
The external fades
As we get to
Vibrant emptiness
Thus we are
Thus we remain
For as long as it takes
Toxins within cleansed
Our earth life vessel
This mind body
Is readied
To receive the elixir
The magnetic impulse
Of Gods bountiful love
In boundless measure
The paths are many
We know them not
For we are not the doer
God alone is the mover
In childlike trust
Aspect allowing
We imbibe the bliss
Scintillating
~~~~~~~
He is that who may not be named
We too are as He, oh hermit
Within heart as the turret
Our divinity unstained
05-December-2020
Contest: The light N/A
"When I was a kid my dad left me in a bad way .... he was
in the lives of my sisters and brothers but he wasn't in mine."
Quote by - Beth Hart
Her voice has an innate, inborn, visceral grittiness
dusty, raspy, raw with emotions of pain, aching, torment
and agony, an unstained contralto deep and low, and you
get lost in her voice, gliding on the waves of life with her
her name, Beth Hart, an American blues musician and singer
Born in 1972, Elizabeth (Beth) Hart is from California, USA
at 4 years old she played the piano concentrating on classical
music, like Bach and Beethoven but as she got older she
was playing artists like Etta James, Otis Redding, and Led Zeppelin
she has a magical voice like Janis Joplin and Tina Turner combined
As a young teen she was singing in open mic nights
and was playing clubs at fifteen, in 1993 band search she won
best female vocalist but her success went nowhere as she
became drug addicted, she spent all her winnings and hit bottom
even spent time in a psych ward for bi-polar and drug addiction
Beth has had ups and downs and she managed to have lots of hits
too many to list in this poem, but there are many hits that I fav
like LA Song, Don't Explain, Am I The One and many, many more
she collaborated with Joe Bonamassa and went on tour with him
and together they had hits, she also collaborated with Jeff Beck
Beth controls her addictions with religion and meditation now.
Joe said in an interview," I am totally knocked out by Beth. Here
is a lady who's acting like I'm the cool one and meanwhile I'm thinking
Man, she's got it all ... the next Janis Joplin . . the real deal, you know."
Random lyrics
War In My Mind
by Beth Hart
hollerin' all the time
black in my soul
and its ugly when I cry
there is a war in my soul
blood on the wall
hiding
making love to the
war in my mind
_____________________
May 09, 2023
Poetry/Bio/It's Ugly When I Cry
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1546-229-09
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Beth Hart Inspiration
sponsor, Robert James Liguori, Judged05/09/2023
First Place
Name, a label, for mind-body identity,
which across past lives, we have had many,
as also gender rotation, for an experience spherical,
so this time around, now assimilating our earth life sojourn,
given pseudonym humbly confesses, there is much more to learn
Of traits and quirks and leanings determining innate reflex response,
how may we affirm validity of erst urges we now look at askance,
save that for most part we reside in thought rested vibrancy,
benediction divine, stretching bliss enriched continuum,
each enlivened node within form, our sensorium
Our family tree has myriad branches and leaves,
yet relationships do shift with time, so what may we believe,
prismatic reflections by us seen, honoured, embraced and released
as present becomes foggy past, stored in unreliable memory
whilst tender touch vibrational holds true in continuity
As attention oscillates between form and formlessness,
integral truth of void and manifestation is interconnectedness,
with God alone as our saviour, our heart immersed in fervent prayer
we recognise that presence of soul in body signals attachment,
so we accept what is as is, content in the bliss current
Reduced is fear and diminished is desire, yet ego pursues,
fearful doubts of failing to illumine consciousness still renew,
with Maslow’s triangle of human aspirations an accepted reality,
we wonder why it takes so long for us to choose to surrender,
dismayed at seeing pain, suffering and hearts asunder
We desire that man and nature co-exist in harmony
treading gently on earth, lovingly, tenderly and mindfully,
all hearts in resonation with love, entwined with universal mind,
free of superstitions and narrowness, seeking Gods light,
each being radiating their unique auric hues bright
What may we say of where we live, for who are we
as we embark moment to moment on a blissful spree,
be it for the moment encased in this human material form
or as our true self pristine pure, a being of living light,
doing Gods will, by His grace, each day and night
Our name? Spirit unstained. We are That!
04-July-2021
THIS IS WHO I AM Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
The Universe's Dance
Transitions of the obstruction of life
To the peacefulness of the night
Or a new beginning that a rising sun can bring without a fight
And in the late hour when everything becomes quiet
Nature has a way to transform
Within this turning of time
Every living spec upon this ever changing storm
To which we play this nursery rhyme
Maybe by a birds sweet sound
That brings a sweet remembrance to a season or day
And within a condensed shift in life a smile abounds
Upon a glowing face
The way the wind softly caresses your face
With a cool breeze
To wave off the heat of the day
With a whistling sound moving melodically free
How the drip drop of rain hitting a window pane can calm a tone
With its streams of life being poured from the heavens
To revive a world that struggles for life sitting on a disintegrating throne
And spring a newness into each creation with no discretion
An uncontrollable fire, breathing in the sky
Giving endlessly its lantern to lead us by each step
And warming our bodies when the cold starts to cry
Frightfully showing its characters of depth
Flickering candles floating in the atmosphere
Decorating a painted canvas of deep blue
Wishes casted off into their whispering ear
With silent hopes of dreams coming true
How amazing is a small and fragile seed
That can create a feast for Kings
And feed a family in need
And if planted again grows once more in spring
We so carelessly disregard the treasures that are all around
These viable precious gifts, nature holds out to us so unselfishly
Returning day after day, season after season unannounced
Unlocking valiant colors of wonders on towers of stems rising from the ground... so proudly
All these elements work in unity to perform a theatrical dance upon our stage
They are the silent voices within the earth
Imparting without antcipating anything to gain
Unstained by our constant denial, clasping to last place in our world of worth
Eyes of sadness our universe never reflects
For it hides its emotions within its design
And even the smallest spectator never detects
Its unfailing true love for all man kind
Day one, the rose was a simple white
Pure as his child-like soul
Unstained by blood or cruelty or pain
Unbroken and whole.
So day one, I went about my life
Through the eyes of innocence
Uncaring that darkness may pounce
Uncaring even if nothing made sense.
•••••
Day two, the rose was a lovely orange
Bright as the glimmer in his laugh
Even when the world was beyond ugly
Even when the road was beyond rough.
So day two, I smiled with the joy
I could always see in his heart
I smiled at my hellish demons
Even if they attempted to tear me apart.
•••••
Day three, the rose was a shining yellow
Resembling the brilliant sun
A reminder that even as I walk alone
Our bond of steel is never gone.
So day three, even when I sat by myself
A smile lit up my usually dim face
Because I knew, he was with me
And he held me in his warm embrace.
•••••
Day four, the rose was dark blue, and yet
It's beauty held me captive
For it was a reminder that he was
Loyal, so long as he lived.
So day four, I lived in assurance
That someone did care for me
That someone will treasure my every flaw
Broken and damned as I may be.
•••••
Day five, the rose was regal lavender
Gentle yet striking as the enchantment
That I found in his love, and I was sure
That he indeed was heaven-sent.
So day five, I felt light as a cloud
Knowing that someone found my enchanting
Even if my soul, at times
Was dark, looming, and threatening.
•••••
Day six, the rose was by my sketchbooks not
But held in the hand of he who had sent
Me every other lovely flower
To explain to me what love meant.
So day six, I got a crimson rose
Beauty as true and passionate
As the bond, the romance that united us
By seemingly a beautiful fate.
•••••
Day seven I did not get a rose,
But something oh so much better.
I had by my side, all day, he who
I was proud to call my lover.
But fooled was I, as he tucked into my hair
A crown of roses in colours oh, so fine.
He smiled and kissed me slowly, then said,
"A rose for you, my darling Starshine."
2.21
“I see no differences or separation
Even the multitudes appear
as a single formless desert
To what should I cling?”
2.22
“I am not the body
I do not have a body
I am Awareness, not a person
My thirst for life bound me
to a seeming of life”
As we make our daily entrée
In our seeing what do we see
Searching for happiness we sweat & toil
Yet each fleeting joy, suffering does foil
Comes a time we tire of chasing the rainbow
Looking within we truly wish to know
The realisation then is simply this
Divine love alone renews unending bliss
Rejecting then as unreal all forms fleeting
We embrace dynamic stillness as the Divine pulse beating
The One dividing Itself into two as Self & self
Love multiplying exponentially pouring Itself into itself
Everything energy and energy vibration
Doing nothing we ascend by simply being in resonation
In renewal of unending continuation
(19-August-2019)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Verse revisited on 24-October-2021
When we, this feeble mind-body entity
Exit stagnation, reclaiming tranquil serenity
Slowly, the false drops away, we cease to sway
We are ensconced in blissful rapture, night and day
Our hollowed out form becomes pure and empty
Magnetised by thunderous bliss in continuity
We slowly recognise interconnectedness
Knowing by grace underlying oneness
Here, within this reflected universe
Divine aligned, we sing the love verse
Identity vaporised, fears and desires cease
Devoid of attachments, we flow like the breeze
In but not of this world, as a beacon of love and light
We see everything through nonjudgmental sight
In childlike trust accepting life flow as it is
Aglow within the throbbing bliss fizz
We seek neither material nor ethereal
There is nothing here, save the divine miracle
Each coordinate of the Ferris wheel has equal appeal
Only that that does not come and go, being real
We play out our earth role in as ordained
Unfettered, unbound, soul unstained
My dad built a house on a hill. How exciting to climb to the tippy-top then look down upon the roof, and dog home, the bean garden, and to sled the slope in Winter white.
eyes delirious
dazzled, dizzy, delighted
dopamine kicked in
A truck gets stuck at the bottom of our steep driveway, blocking local traffic on our rural road. I wonder if this sticks in anyone else’s memory? Then like ants, industrious, sweating for donuts and coffee, my dad’s friends work their quads, up and down this unexpected hell.
our walls carried up
unfinished planks, like a cross
friendship marches on
We’d help spackle the parts of the wall scored by nails. Dad would use the saw to cut a wooden floor, like his rest-in-peace dad, who surely stops in to measure his son’s progress, to see his grandkids placing the unstained wood.
this home has no ghosts
brand-spanking new on old hill
but the past’s with us
While constructing, Mom would open a can of Dinty Moore stew, cook over a portable stove, and serve over rice. We would order Pizza from Salvatore’s - my mouth waters at the thought of this New York pie with Italian sausage, sauce and cheese. They’d occasionally order a submarine; I can still taste the fresh lettuce, tomato and thin-sliced deli meats on yeasty bread.
what we remember
is funny; the senses touch
childhood memories
The builder, of the house’s frame, was called one day. He was told my dad went through the roof. Later, they came, standing outside and sizing up the roof, when my mom questioned them as to what he was looking at. Mom rolled her eyes as she told him, what was meant, was that my dad was mad.
screwball translation
the heated conversation
is lost in humor
Shovelling the driveway, in Winter, in my plaid, woollen, hooded coat. My face can feel the chill, the briskness of the wind, and the warmth of mittens. I miss my childhood, even the arduous times, those wonderful family times.
a surprise arrives
at this address; a newborn
unplanned, a kicker
in the beginning was the word and the sound was Ohm
reverberating Gods will within each lifetron His home
Hirayangarbha split into two magnetic polarities
separation and union manifesting as duality
male-female day-night orbits and tides
both in form and void God resides
beginning with this hypothesis
until ingrained through synthesis
we recognise all manifestation at play
unity underlying diversity of nature’s ways
we as subject viewing myriad beauteous objects
within mind body too head and heart being separate
mind body individuality what we may term as the ego
feeling separate from source reluctant to will forgo
flounders about seeking expansion in this dream
oblivious to the life source that within streams
until in silence and innocence surrenders
one with conscience awake in wonder
thereupon sensing thunder soundless
ego aligned with universal consciousness
we become aware of the inner sound current
imbibing blissful soma nectar within us resident
conjoined by divine fragrance and soft white light
essence of vaporised presence in heightened delight
heart spawns desire manifesting thought and sound
with all being one our emitted vibrations rebound
our mindful eye suffuses desire with pure intent
obtaining at each moment from love consent
enabled thus as He for loving co-creation
with Gods will in seamless resonation
perfect alignment attained what remains
save pristine presence pure and unstained
God concealing and revealing as of His plan
as we walk upon earth with joyfulness and elan
in both emptiness or fullness in every way complete
vibrationally in resonance with God our head at His feet
boundaries blur as we are at once centred everywhere
whilst acknowledging earth life as being self-aware
rainbow body within beauteous sound and light
softened attention with compassion our sight
subject object merge as all becomes one
basking in radiance of the spiritual sun
08-April-2021
The aftermath - J.F Baker
You are the bucket to my mop
The twisting rope that whips the water awakening a bucket
My two hands wrap themselves around you, one above the other
Gripping firmly the silver pole I look up to see your blue cap and I am ready.
Ready for all that you are capable of, all that you are willing to give.
I understand that two way streets intersect with one way roads and I take you firm and pull.
Pull you up, stopping only to squeeze the very tip of you.
Wet you drip, taking only what you need, water drops back into the sweat bath beneath,
Even still, you are heavy in my grasp.
Spinning you a full three sixty degree leaves you spread across my floor,
Like tentacles your limbs scatter in all directions. There they lay. Impatiently waiting
Slowly at first I guide you, pushing you across the white tiles leaving a streak slippery to the touch,
Wet the tiles lay, unstained and pure as if it was their first time seemingly untouched
Before wine stained the gaps between what is to be seen and what holds us together, even so
Excitement builds in side of me. I feel everything and nothing simultaneously.
Adrenaline makes me move faster and I take control, swiftly and with intent I throw your body across the room.
Left, right, left right harder a figure of 8 and we dance to a song that in a room full of people only we can hear.
Only we can feel the intensity, the subtly of a stroke, the meaning of the absence of clear thought,
You are not a distraction you are the catalyst and the cure.
Bring calm to my home and to my soul I will devour you for making me feel this way,
Pulling you closer to me in a state of frenzy we clash with the last corner of unmapped territory.
A sense of euphoria comes over we switch our stance and allow space to come between us,
Look at what we have done. We have spilt our seed amongst last night’s wine.
For a world that lacks context.
Form: