It is May 1872
The Mary Celeste, a large ship has been abandoned
where is her crew?
where is the captain?
they have disappeared without any trace.
Forty-five years later
The USS Cyclops disappeared
Three hundred and nine people have never been found
This time, things were different
The ship was gone too.
Nine ships have vanished.
Many of us have speculated what might have happened.
Did a giant sea monster take these ships down to the ocean floor?
Did she eat all the meat and release the Mary Celeste so it could bob to the surface?
Is there a giant aquatic bigfoot down there?
It is curious.
He began to take her away from her hobbies.
No big deal, her friends thought.
Then he took her away from her family.
They thought it was just young love.
After the marriage no one could get in touch with her.
He had sequestered her far away.
She no longer seemed to have a phone.
Her social media accounts were closed.
You don’t suppose he is hurting her? Her best friends wondered.
Her family was even more alarmed.
He had just called and told them that she was missing.
That was twenty years ago. She has never been found.
A pirate’s pile of untouched treasure,
that’s said to belong to One-eyed Willy.
It’s never been found, no not ever.
The map shows we have to be clever,
don’t you realize what you could see?
A pirate’s pile of untouched treasure.
Family ties we must briefly sever
in order to truly become a Goonie.
It’s never been found, no not ever.
For social disease this is the cure,
the way to avoid a catastrophe.
A pirate’s pile of untouched treasure.
Here and now matters later is over,
our chance gone as swift as the sea.
It’s never been found, no not ever.
This mad idea may make you shiver,
don’t you realize it’s meant to be?!
A pirate’s pile of untouched treasure.
It’s never been found, no not ever.
A million things swimming around in my head.
Things I could say that should never be said.
Things I could tell that you’d never believe.
Things that I’ve seen that are too far to see.
Things that I’ve heard that are not made of sound.
Things that I know which have never been found.
Things that could change the world. Things that could heal.
Things that would terrify were they revealed.
Things of the type based on all that I’ve seen,
are best left unspoken and kept in between
myself and the one who has shown them to me.
The one who keeps whispering continually.
In my mind they’re all swimming, an ocean too vast
to contain it all so… I’ll risk all that have.
Oh brother, I’d say you’ve lost your way again
But the truth is, you’ve never been found
You see things not as they are
If only you could leave it at that
Your dissonance spills out and over
Leaving a sticky black sap
That we try not to drown in
We want to love you
Yet can’t find a way in
Stuck in this wet tar
Wondering if we could turn it into honey
A golden sweetness that could bring you back
Could make your blue eyes clear
Mother closes her eyes
Sister stays busy
Father keeps composed
I look to logic
We are not okay
The poisonous tales you tell are from your grandmother’s lips
We can only watch as you drink from her cup
Screaming on the inside
As we frantically sweep the broken glass you leave in your wake
Our feet bleeding from these sacred wounds
Still,
We have sunshine and songs
Babies and bad jokes
Fresh air and flowers
We have each other
And we're okay
Let’s go visit the Bermuda Triangle of New Jersey someone said.
The place where many missing boaters are found enormously dead.
Twenty-six people have disappeared in the lake, according to the masses.
One body floated out four years later, and this guy was wearing his glasses.
It’s the weirdest place according to Jacques Cousteau, who took his sub out.
A terrific place to bring a rod and reel and catch a wide mouthed trout.
It will be fun! Let’s go! The bodies of six men have never been found.
Frankly I say, if one comes up, I would not rather be around.
The reputation of this lake is that if a body appears,
Another will soon replace it, which is one of my fears.
Lights over this reservoir have looked like an alien ship.
Sorry, I tell my cousin. Please count me out of this trip.
Soldiers raise their holy swords,
To the heavens as they,
Give the oath to protect God and the church.
Such swords are adorned with gems,
Blessed only by God,
Which glows with a testament of honor.
The white tunic instills,
Innocence and purity,
As the red cross symbolizes,
The blood of Christ.
These promises are only kept,
By their silence and,
Giving their life to keep them.
The king and pope betrayed,
The soldiers of Christ.
Yet, after eight hundred years,
Their silence still reigns.
The rumors of their escape,
To distant lands is true.
God blessed the knight's templars.
They kept their oath.
They kept their promise.
One thing is very true,
Treasured documents, Gold, and the chalice,
Has never been found.
I would like to think the heart and soul,
Of the templars resides in heaven,
Protecting the one person that,
They vowed to never leave or betray.
Ah, King Biden, thou dost lie to me!
When thou blamest Putin for everything from sea to sea!
Dost my head look like it’s made of wood?
Your thieving son, Hunter’s, probably could!
Why not tell our kingdom of the three houses in Delaware you own?
Of course, on CNN, these facts....shan’t ever be shown!
It’s said you have much charm and charisma?
Did you learn such grace, in the halls of Burisma?
Your progeny’s laptop, some purport has never been found?
It drowned, one moonlit night, I heard in Puget Sound.
4-1-2022
With or Without
Without the existence of flame
could fire give way to the spark
is there good in the absence of evil
can there be light without having dark
if you never had any friends
would you know who your enemies are
without the reality of perception
would you know what was near and not far
would we think that the world was still flat
if science had never been found
could we still wish upon a star
if all life lived deep underground
can we have love without hate
will they both just tear us apart
could life be embraced and released
without faith and God in your heart
5/3/2021
An evil person snatched a child up off the street.
One block from my house, tidy, silently and neat.
The police did not believe the mother, she was a suspect.
I saw details on TV where the husband showed some conflict.
The child had been delivering papers and told a man he felt funny.
He was busy with his own child, the day was dark, not yet sunny.
He told the other person’s child to go on ahead, and he’d keep an eye out.
Thirty years later, I wonder if he wishes he’d have followed child’s doubt.
The child has never been found, and that was nineteen eighty-four.
Never has a body been found, but the neighbors who lived next door.
Reported that the mother acted suspicious in all kinds of ways that day.
I imagine she was pre-grieving, knowing her child had been whisked away.
I always wonder what happened to this little twelve-year-old.
What kind of brassy, evil, villain walked up so big and bold.
And snatched another mother’s child away, off the street?
So tidy, silently, and stealthily. To find him would be a real treat.
My favorite writer is well-known and most profound,
A master wordsmith and writer of great renown,
I have searched far and wide for this bard so profuse,
Just refers to himself by the name, Anonymous.
Of antiquity, a distinguished writer of great worth,
One of the best to ever live upon this earth,
No picture of this person has never been found,
Just a remarkable figure who was never crowned.
How can such a library of this value be bound,
And logged into history without cosmic sound,
From whence arose this mastermind of prose and rhyme,
Seemingly without equal, this unique of a kind.
What connotation and thought this author left behind,
To educate and entertain, it boggles the mind,
Most writers want fame and means from the populace,
But not the writer known only as Anonymous.
What if we lost, the Great Pyramid of Giza?
What if it collapsed, the Roman Coliseum?
What if the Great Wall of China, was suddenly gone?
The Hagia Sophia...was nothing but a song.
What if Stone Henge, had never been found?
The Machu Picchu...laid deep underground.
What if the Taj Mahal, had only been a dream?
The Great Empire State Building...fell apart at the seams.
What if the Golden Gate Bridge, was not there to cross?
The Victoria Falls...dried up with no cause.
What if no eyes, were ever laid on the Great Barrier Reef?
The CN Tower...fell flat at our feet.
Try to imagine the Chichen Itza, with no morning sun.
That the old city of Jerusalem...had never been done.
What if the Aurora Borealis, had never been there?
The Grand Canyon walls...were all flat and bare.
For all of these wonders, how sad would it be.
If none of them were here, for the whole world to see.
With a heartfelt sigh and one teary sniff.
I sit and I wonder...what if.
this is for the girls who feel mistreated
heart broken and defeated
hold your head up everything will be alright
its your own refelection that you fear
everytime you look into the mirror
because society blinds you from your own beauty
who cares what other people got to say
its your own opinion that matters anyway
if you could only see what the people that matters sees
youd realize your own beauty
your amazing in more ways than you can tell
learning from everything thats put you through hell
so pull your eyes up off the ground
cuz you might be missing what would have never been found
dont look back and wonder why
look forward smile and through a kiss to the sky
because people that mind dont matter
and people who matter dont mind
each and everyone of you are beautiful in your own way
so when you wake up put a smile on and face the day
One lonely girl walks
Across bridges alone
Her songs an escape
Her silence a home
She twiddles her thumbs
she looks down from above
So full of magic
And so full of love
There she goes thinking
Her timing is bad
Torn in the places
She never knew she had
With whispers of wonder
And silence in song
She can't help but notice
That something went wrong
Now her duet's a solo
Her ties unbound
She suddenly wishes
She'd never been found
In hail and rain she scoured the moors;
her boy was buried there.
Her life was put on hold to search;
what did the killers care?
She begged them with her dying breath
to help her find the bones;
the killers didn't grant her wish,
their hearts as hard as stones.
The grieving mother passed away;
she'd prayed in Cancer-pain
that when she died, her murdered son
would be with her again.
for Constance's Words Drowned in Tears contest, written 17th October 2016
inspired by Keith Bennett and his mother Winnie - Keith was a victim of the Moors Murderers, Hindley & Brady, and his body has never been found
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.