Short Uncounted Poems

The chest is open
  —its treasure exposed

The jewels uncounted
  —with riches unknown

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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Plastered posters up on dividers
laminated and preserved for generations
of students, marching by filing
nameless the years, uncounted
the numbers...

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cubed sudokus mean
zillions of solutions...
one algorithm

allows uncounted
different complexities...
humans are 3d

puzzles in motion
relatively speaking...
infinite in time...

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How many ways can i say what i've already said
How many words linger, 
uncounted, in the fields of dead
No one speaks truth any more,
With our voices, we only cast shadows
of lies that came before....

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With days uncounted
  the present gained

A fresh encounter
  all time unnamed

A last breath drawn
  to hold anew

Those new words spoken
 —where truth ensues

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)...

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The Cold War: The Price Of War
Your were kissing me
Like fighting for your life.

Your hands
Are firing mine.

Sweat, laughs, whispers, and tears
Are the first to fall.

Our mouths and words
Are the many uncounted
Casualties....

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How blissful is that we forget
All the lives sacrificed without regret
Oceans of Blood uncounted tears 
How desperately they trace 
The glimpse of their loved ones face
But history only remembers the Great
How blissful is that we forget...

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Minutes drag by, innumerable and uncounted,
Turning into days, months, years.
Never a straight line,
backward, forward, sideways,
flying, pacing, always moving.
Seasons come and go, the Wheel never stops.
Bottom or top, differences none,
Hope struggles to simply keep up....

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Is death the first and the last enemy for us
Or is the silent war for always with no fuss

There are uncounted ways to die
That could turn your head you can't deny

So we march forward knowing full well
That our destiny is to meet death in its spell.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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“Cold Dead Heart ”
Beauty like the (warm) sun’s morning gaze
Freshness of earth, the coming day
Like morning I was wet from the dew of life
Fending off these cold, cold nights

Supposition presumed, uncounted
Living in life as lost as laughter
Reborn by her touch
And given hereafter...

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Imperfection keeps me fertile,
like the storm upon the plain

Measuring the distance,
of what’s lost and sometimes gained

With my thoughts I mark the hours,
left uncounted looking back

The choices made and prices paid
—endorsing what I lack

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)...

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Seconds hunger
 days unweaned
compression fracture
broken dreams

Minutes uncounted
hours unnamed
 Humptiest Dumpty
in pieces again

Yahweh once spoken
reason besieged
tokens in exile
pagans to grieve

One for the money
two when it’s shown
oracle harlot
—cursed and dethroned

(Dreamsleep: March, 2022)...

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123
So on we go
Toward that last
Great show
Kneeling down
Is far from this
As is a wedding kiss
This a journey
To the great beyond
Not trapped in time
Or a barreled soul
It’ll all make sense
Mistakes have purpose
And our lives,
Our lives
Can reach
Infinity
Traveling through
All these uncounted
Realities...

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Today
6/4/2018
Tom

The day I face,
Isn’t always the aspiration I awake with.
Often, I just require more space,
Feeling lifeless, as a stem without pith;

Any innovative thoughts promptly evolve,
Providing birth to uncounted more;
Creating problems, *I alone, can’t solve,
But creating avenues for me to explore;
...

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“An Aching for the Cosmos”
I’ve fount fault
With finding fault
For days and days uncounted
Washed away his beach of wonder
After an introspections over 
What world has wonder brought?
To sinking ship and shoveling sun
All dreams are broken pieces
Fallen apart for shame and speechless
When will this earth then dead fall?
Turn round from life withdraw...

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DEAD SEA!
  -Dharga Nagar Safa

Dead Sea-

Uncounted bodies of dead,

Men,women,aged and children,

Oh,the unborn in the wombs,

Buried beneath the sea,

Not obeying the great commands,the cause!

Dead Sea,

Fish,unable to swim,

Dead Sea,

People,unable to dive,

Dead Sea,

A symbol of punishment for a deaf village,

A lessen that,every soul to born to learn,

Until the world remains!...

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Ah Mikhail, were you here to splash again with me
Through the mounds of marbles fragile white
And roll and scream delirious with childlike ecstasy
That leave uncounted the snowbirds late in flight.
Memory is a giant stain on the carpet of my mind
And the pain like footsteps pound it again and again
My son, my son, how noble now your deeds all shine
How mortal now my dreams, and life how vain....

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a quire or two, 
or three, may be
uncharterd
uncounted
discounted, maybe
tablets
stone shards
heavy slabs of me
rain soaked reams
sloughed off of me
shoulders of clay
unweighted may be
separate from morass
the mass of me
plunged heavy and sunk
in a literary sea
of words great men
spoke to me
I look for words
so meanings i'll see
and write, and write,
and write, maybe
so inner thoughts
so quiet may be.

03/06/2017...

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In the dim mists, a place exists,
An ancient world that resists,
The ravages upon itself bequeathed,
In the green misty fog in which it is wreathed.
To hide the pool of the never-ending,
That shows of turmoil and the rending.
At once like a spiral tower of a keep,
And with uncounted fathoms it is so deep.
So are the fountain and the pool,
All humane and yet are cruel.
The fountain in the air starts to die,
Then I realize it is I....

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What is the age
of reality itself
Older than
a metaphor
Unreferenced
on a shelf

What is the distance
unmeasured from within 
Spoken of
but never seen
A poets
dying whim

What is time uncounted
as numbers lose their clout
The hourglass
returned to sand
An abacus
in doubt

What is love ungifted
but feelings’ last excuse
To roam unlinked 
between the chains
And blame it
—on the Muse

(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)

...

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After the blasts of winter
Spring has come once again,
To clad the trees with leaves
To adorn empty spaces in blooms delight
To drown the lands in birds’ songs
To bring joy and cheer to uncounted hearts

I gaze upon the charming vistas around
This is the post hibernation phase
Life has sprung back with vigor
The songsters sing lulling melodies
In valleys, their songs euphoniously ring
Filling every heart with joy...

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They are high state of art,
 renovated or brand new.
 In the hallway greets you fountain,
 sculpture, statue or the painting.
 
Escalators, elevators
 or the stairs will lead you up.
 Decorated walls in wood
 and uncounted standing books.
 
They will quench your every anguish.
 They have books in every language –
 second or the one for you.
 
From books learn, grow, improve,
 you will also know the truth –
 what you can and cannot do....

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from afar, leaves like uncounted catatonic fires  
huddled close
pinned to the chill air

a pointillist’s love affair with a hundred shades of red

the ground is a fresh wound, edgeless 

a breeze worries the boughs 
stokes the hanging flames into quivering  
crimsons 
scarlets 
vermilions 
renegade ambers

a slow burn resumes

accompanied by a susurrus of sighs 
a dirge for a season

and the summer sky, now turned slate,
is cremated...

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Tiny pebbles are strewn around the
gravel road, like forgotten thoughts uncounted
half-chewed, littered along the wayside, ah! disorder!
The most constant of nature’s laws!
Still, each of them dreams in time of being pressed
into a statue to the gods, to be a Stone of the Highest Order
but each must count himself lucky every time 
a passing child stoops to feel the gray roughness in his hands
to them, to whom anonymity seems guaranteed,
remembrance is enough....

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In a whisper I am bringing the leaves
of golden autumn.
The summer, passed away with cry, 
is only the burden
for the burnt out grass
I’m bringing you an only
drop on the fingers – 
an unseen rainbow in all 
the colors of the time.
I hold you peace at touching.
I do not utter you.
I leave you to count me
like a sigh of a child,
without memories for yesterday,
without memories for tomorrow…
(the death is only the visible
time)

And you remain – uncounted....

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