Short Unsated Poems

unsated
she deprives
wild flowers
of their freedom...
the wind picks on her greed

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My unsated soul

Your truth yearns to know my Lord

Unfulfilled desire!







© Demetrios Trifiatis
   22 September 2018

5-7-5...

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Earthquake in my heart stop rumbling, 
The storm has subsided the ebb is low, 
Veins flow with fire, unsated no more. 
Tremors and aftershocks come and go 
I live with love now on another shore....

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This train of tears will not cease;
I have travelled far the bitter tide,
tried desperately to stem the flow. No peace     
is found. Like a bobbing cork I ride
upon the storm, unsatisfied.

Copyright December 1, 2019...

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Storm swept seas assault the shore
Lashing out with rage unsated
Attacking with the wrath of Thor
Oceans temper unabated

Reaching out with icy hands
Fists of foam grip granite walls
Succeeding not with it's demands
Retreats to Poseidon's halls...

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Moody clouds gather
as ripe fruit drops from shivering branches 
onto pillows of gold. 
The last of the lustrous flowers,
weary from the summer show,
slouch beside the wasted seed pods of their sisters,
whilst workers head back to hives unsated.

Yet still there’s a butterfly....

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Malice unsated. Insatiable.
The children of the frenzy
belch poison beyond the shell,
yet suckle there at the breast
of an uncertain woman 
gratefully turned to stone;
long for a distant father
who has quietly despised them
since the uncertain womb.
Insatiable malice. Unsated.

18th June 2020...

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There was something I wanted to say to you.
The thought of it came 
Like a butterfly in a garden –
Seeking a bloom
It flitted about, 
Then alighted momentarily 
Before being distracted
By a neighboring flower.
Departing unsated
It followed the wind
To the next thought garden.
There is something I want to say to you.
What is it?
What is it?...

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(I want you to show me)

Everyday fonder, every day
The same.
Unsated desire, hoping for change.
I am thirsting for change.
 
"Things will turn up," or so I say.
Everyday I'm fonder, but every day remains -
It is what it is, and it's all the same.
 
Everyday dreamer, I think of better days,
Wondering if the best of it has come and gone
Oh every day, for
Everyday the same....

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They are the ones who knock
Unsated they slither and mock
For they are hunters of your soul
Taken without your will or control

Did you get what you deserve 
As their eyes stab at your reserve 
Do you scream and run on 
Wishing and hoping they’d be gone 

To pursue and capture you
As you run and not falter too
While the gathering demon horde
Watch smile and quietly applaud.
 
© Paul Warren Poetry...

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blown apart her lewd locks of hair 
stretching arch ready to ensnare
the dawn sets itself on fire

rain hurries down to douse the heat
soaked wet, vanity you secrete 
earth also smells full with desire 

hard log flamed, I burned to ash soft
now I lie, on the ground, pride lost
unsated, some more you require

Nove Otto- 9 lines, syllable count 8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8
Contest: Light a Flame!
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
write: 14.6.2014
Mohan Chutani...

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Beyond vision, I see only her
an unsated, demanding hunger
the soulful dream each night
as I wish with all might
to bear love’s pain a little longer.

To ease the ache of physical need
it is the simplest of things, indeed
but to ease the hollow
my heart cannot swallow
I’ve often tried but cannot succeed.

I seek solace in an empty glass
as my heart burns for my lovely lass
my thoughts drift away then
I wonder how and when
love became such a pain in the… neck...

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There are types of young love
  that must be broken apart

For either or both lovers
  to survive

Like alcohol to the inferno
  their temperature gets hotter

Until nothing is left to share 
  except scorched remains

With no net to catch them
  they fall into each other

Tumbling and hurling
  like a flaming ball

A hunger unsated
  devouring their passion
 
Their souls trapped and burning 
   —in the fire they share

(Westborough Massachusetts: April, 2018)...

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