Unbutton Poems | Examples

Fly vs Elephant

It takes little time to unzip a fly.
It's quickly done, on the first try. 
But you'll wonder where your life all went
if you unbutton an elephant.

For talking too much in class, we've buttoned your lip

For talking too much in class, we've buttoned your lip.
If the teacher does ask you to talk, here is a little tip.
You unbutton your lip just like a button on your shirt.
The first few times, you may feel a little hurt.
So be gentle, so your lip ~ doesn't rip.

One Night

One Night.

The door bell,
Unlocked, 
Foot steps,
And a hug from a  back.

The whisper, 
Name,
Hands on my hip.
Make me turn around.

Face, red,
Hands around neck,
A play with hair,
And unbuttoned shirt.

Hand at face,
Eyes met,
Full of love,
With smile.

Soft lips,
warm breath,
A play,
Hot.

The flowing heat,
Trembling body,
Uncontrolled legs,
Making love.



(Inspired by MANHWA)

Leftover Willpower

Leftover Willpower
David J Walker

I know
	I know
What I said last night 
After the last bite of 
Turkey and dressing and 
Cranberry sauce and 
Pumpkin pie	
That I
Would never eat again
At least, not this much
	So much
That it stretched my belly to
New dimensions forcing me to 
Unbutton the waistband of my
Khaki dress slacks
I know
	I know
How good it all was
 and yet how
Bad for me at the same time
And how I fell asleep in the
Recliner watching reruns of
“It’s a Wonderful Life”
And the morning after 
When I cannot think of putting
Any more food in my mouth
Somewhere in the back of my head
Hatches a plan for later
Sliders 
Maybe one 
Reheated roll with
Turkey and dressing and 
Cranberry sauce 
	Small Sliders
Maybe two
	Just two
No more
But surely not three
Would you think it profane to
Curse the names of every Pilgrim 
Who landed on Plymouth Rock?
The bane of my weakening 
Leftover willpower
IT’s ALL THEIR FAULT!

Speak

Unbutton your lips, let your voice sing out.
Stand strong in its music, it is your own.
Shout your convictions, let all hear your tone
Declare 
Proclaim
Condemn 
Speak up. Speak out. Speak.
Don’t ignore your sisters’ cry
Don’t sit silent while your brothers die
Use your voice as an instrument of change
Do not be shushed, do not be shamed
Silence is not golden, it’s invisible.

On Blennerhassett Island With Walt Whitman

He sat on this patch of turf,
and if not this exact place a piece of a place nearby.

Naturally, I try to feel his companionship.
Did he write a line of poetry on this small island
or was he simply being Walt Whitman,
honored guest,
a person he hardly recognized from his youth?

I feel his old bones not his youthful step
but also his long poems
as they ride Ohio river currents
at ease with the next slow bend,
or some quick kink and churn of its history.

I imagine his hand on the ground,
it heaves my body up from a deep grass
and quilts me to a terrain
where fingers meet on a shared wrist
a place where heron wings beat.

I feel the mutuality of crossed roads,
the cadence of shore eddies
as they unbutton a coat
he left draped over a rail of this wooden jetty.

Unbutton

Beyond breaths that leave the being breathless,
                       such a wait is becoming unbearable,
                                the flight of fingertips  
                                                    fumble before they feel

                           Shall I cease the excitement

            When I was invited,
                    in magical moments so real?

                                              
               To begin again -
                       being patient, of that I am truly able             
                            while the view leaves the being speechless,
                                               I am breathless 
                          
                         as you Unbutton, 
                                        new possibilities



____________________
Something playful
~ Open to new moments ~

The Story In My Head

THE STORY IN MY HEAD
(Sounds Of Silence)

Would I have had it any better in life?
Why would it be me?
Why would he hurt me?
He is my Father

Why would he get closer to me?
Why would he unbutton me and tell me not to shout?
and why did I not?
Why did I not tell Mom?

That her husband, my father is not the man he was once
Now, he craves for me, his product,
That he didn't do it just once
but more times that I have even lost count

I am hurt but can only speak to myself
For one word out, is hell
I am fearful not to speak, for he said
DO NOT DARE SAY ANYTHING, or you are gone {dead}

Mom, I am sorry but I each time you inquire,
"Are you feeling fine, Glory?"
I can only say "Yes Ma," a deceiving story;
I can only smile at you

For the man in front
Is not a man
but a beast who feasts
on his own kids.

I fear for my own death to not come at this young age
Perhaps, I can tell only myself this tale
Till when he is of old
and the story can then be told.

Word Calibration In G Major

Word Calibration in G Major

‘Don’t worry honey. 
No one walks this way.
At least, not at this hour.’
The neons inside the dark house,
Across the street over there,
Are aglow with ghostly shadows,
Flickering like strobes in slow motion.
Just our car parked here now, and
No one is around. Nothing
Except Dream faeries dressed as opossums.
We are alone at last, and
It is time to touch firm bodies together.
It is time to be alive once again.
Your top two buttons are unfastened, I see.
Shh, be still as I unbutton the bottom two;
My left hand knows where to go;
I will now kiss and caress your soft perfumed neck,
As my searching fingers follow their bead.
‘Shh, what’s that sound?’
Loud voices coming this way,
Formless voices strolling by on parade;
‘Shh, duck down and don’t make a sound,’
As we continue to kiss and lick excited flesh,
Embracing in silent sweat,
Ensconced under a flaming white blanket,
Inside a lavender blue ’72 Land Yacht.
There is a moonless sky outside, and
A creeping fog beginning to settle in.
‘Ahh, I see that you are cold, honey.
Here is my hat, 
Cover yourself.’

Raped I Am

Raped
Word by word
Thought by thought
Unbutton the robe; you look good
Take out the veins and blood itself; you look amazing
Break the bone to pieces and squeeze out the marrow;
You look beautiful
Bare and naked
Thought by thought
Word by word
Raped I am

-puvi-

The First Poem

The first poem

I am a woman in mid life now.
finding myself pensive and reflective.
Working in my flower garden
on a sunny Sunday morning.
Then a poem pulls up in the driveway.
Driving a red mustang convertible.
I remember this car.
And this beautiful poem.
It wants me to unbutton my shirt
and unhook my bra.
I sit in the still familiar back  seat.
The poem recites it's soft downy words.
The ones from a lifetime past.
I notice I have taken
 all my clothes off for this poem.
I look like a white pale statue.
I notice the reflection
 of my naked self.
so desirable so hot.
I still have it I feel it
I know it.
Afterwards
the poem and I
talk of Forevers 
and marraige 
and other untruths

Spring Unbuttoned

plucked the wax flowers -
to unbutton the beauty
of eternal spring


22.03.16

Let Me Explain

Let me explain...
I want you to be naked. 
Drop the mask around your face, and Take off those layers. 
Unbutton the linen around your heart and reach behind the zipper leading to your mind. 
In time, you will see that I want to penetrate you in ways that don't require physical sensation. 
Temptation reaching it's peak as I speak to your soul in ways thought to be unachievable.
Let your walls be knocked down by someone who can tell you more about yourself than what you see in the mirror. 
It will be clearer once we reflect on our past, live in the present, and allow a future of ecstasy to be built.

Speaking Walls

If walls could speak,
we would have reached a peak
of astonishment on what happens
behind our backs.

We would be knowing our stalkers’ faces,
gossips of our friends, hidden tears,
and those who secretly unzip and unbutton
each other, engulfed in the flame of desire…

We would have no more secrets to pocket
deep in our hearts, if walls spoke about
our real selves, when we thought that no one
was watching.


Date Published: 5/6/2015

Mama Warned Her

She expected very little from the guy
  A lesson she had learned long ago
     Guys are after just one thing
             It always started
               With just one
                     Kiss
               Then look out
          For wandering hands
      He would unbutton her top
  Then next he would remove her brasier
She was so excited...she could hardly wait !


Non Rhyming version of Andrea's new form.

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