Uncomplaining Poems | Examples

Untouchable Things

For millennium they cherished the sand
upon humble wishes and tender footprints.
In the company of uncomplaining beasts
they found no diamonds or shiny gems
only the streaks on the moon kissed path.

Having just enough to sustain the will
and plenty less to dream upon.
Oasis to oasis like skipping stones 
in between the burn of destiny.
As the Prophets and imposters
sparred on the watery mirage
they praised the struggle 
prayed for guidance
gave thanks to the divine. Unseen.
Upon the shimmering coolness of untouchable things.

Pants As Good As No Pants

It is fast becoming rampant,
The whole thing: perfect irritant:
Baring screened-off contents of pants
Guilty:  old dames and debutantes
And these pants are exorbitant,
Uncomplaining buyer brilliant!

Freedom continues to seeds plant
Crossed Christians turning militant,
Who would wearer waste or her pants,
New growing mistrust of fired rants,
Towards shaming violence slant 
No more to assaults an “I can’t.”

But what would women establish 
In pants that their contents publish?

The Elegance of the Night

When the Moon fell in love with the night,
Her luminous knight held her ebony hand,
And the Earth twirled with the day out of sight

She wears a crown of constellations, a breath-taking sight,
And as mere mortals sleep, the nocturnal take stand,
When the Moon fell in love with the night

Uncomplaining, never ceasing, then at twilight;
She prepares the blanket of eventide for another land,
And the Earth twirled with the day out of sight

Infinite awe of wonder, Sylph of boundless flight,
The slumber of sleep waited for majestic command,
When the Moon fell in love with the night

Hypnotic plethora of aura, an observers delight,
A silent phenomenon only her realm can understand,
And the Earth twirled with the day out of sight

Her regal stillness exulted by the stars and her moonlight,
The allures of our universe, as they came forth to expand,
When the Moon fell in love with the night,
And the Earth twirled with the day out of sight


15/11/22

The Beauty of the Night poem contest

Sponsor: Sotto Poet

A Jolly Fisherman

Driven by a growing angling fad
The jolly fisherman took a fishing rod
And walked onto the nearby stream
As the sun rose from the mountain seam

He had in mind the swimming Trout
With rising hope and speeding steps, he set out
Sat on a rock and swished the rod in the air
With the quickness of a practiced bowler

Looking at the line sinking low, waited quiet
Hoping to see the fish nibbling at the bait
Inhaling the fresh morning air, he sat
His head well protected with a frilled hat

As the hook line went taut in his grip
With rising hope, he pulled it up
But alas! With no booty to boast
And no fish at the hook to fry or roast

Uncomplaining, he sat like a statue on the rock
For hours, never allowing his heart to break
He waited all day till the sun went down
And at last with a smile, walked down to his town

_______________________________


August.19. 2022

A Jolly Fisherman Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Julia Ward

The Tree In My Yard

in my yard stands a tree
lone like a hermit, regal like a monarch
its roots dug deep
its branches touching the heavens
peeking behind the skies veil
sometimes its leaves rustle
overall it is silent and still
still.................... 
like waters without ripples

it stands upright
brooding over the saga of struggle
from a sapling to a towering giant
indeed a tryst with destiny!

under the summer sky
braving the smarting beams
it remained uncomplaining
below the thundering clouds
bearing a thousand needle pricks

it stayed nonchalant
when the wind swept across
bending its branches in all directions
it stood on firm feet unwavering

it tells a tale of struggle and survival
it had stood there before I was born
now it displays every scar and every stripe
on its knotted bark as a proud trophy

sometimes I feel its pain
when wet and dripping in pouring rain
or scorched in the sun’s fiery rage
yet it holds an umbrella over all
who come to it in sun and rain

Placed First 
A Brian Strand 1098 Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Brian strand

Unshaved Beards

Puzzled eyes they keep feeding,
A crowd bigger than a political rally breeding
A dozen times a friend's had assaulted a kid
By him lifted up for a welcoming kiss
And now his jaw he has of them rid,
Punctually bestriding salons to never this miss@

Space-grabbing beards aren't a pleasure,
A vegetative chin, far from a treasure.
Man should 'farewell' bid to a losing practice
Like war wisely liquidated with Armistice.
A habitual afforestation of one's jaw
Is a transgression of some Uncomplaining Law

Time Potd

The  air  is  still,  you  can  hear
Buzzing of bees, feeding on nectar
And  pollen  of  fruit  trees;  we
Slowly walk through with gentle ease

Grateful for a small measure of shade
That  tease  by  uncomplaining  trees,
We stop. Sit for a wee rest upon earth breast
Beneath the pavilion of overhanging limbs,
Dangling  leaves  and  fragrant  blooms

At that moment, time runs out as the clock
Keeps ticking. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock
Ceaseless  beating  of  our  longing  hearts

Our  future  naturally  occurring  now,
Our  lives  are  worth,  but  a  second  
We see the past, present, and future
The infinite and eternal nature of our soul's
Bathe in a warm trance that can only belong to us


7/6/2020 


Time- 8 Word Challenge Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: A Dear Heart
1. time 2. moment 3. clock 4. ticking 5. past 6. present 7. eternal 8.  infinite

Radians

Although an angle in radians
seems a trivial quantity
compared to its degree equivalent,
it exceeds degrees in its elegance.

A tolerant, uncomplaining denominator
gracefully balances a weightless platform
on its invisible head,
while two abstract concrete pillars
point to the critical points
of a single cycle of a periodic function.

Shipwreck

Shipwreck

Forceful truths
captive to 
glistening diamond
watered ice 
descends
upon her
mothers  
blacked inky
oceans sea's
couch,
uncomplaining
peaceful
sleep
at
last.

The Walks

The Walks

I walk
And the trees talk
I watch
    for signs of wonder
As white winged creatures
     flutter by.
The king of the great expanse
     so giving of its radiance.
Yonder are the wispy clouds, inconspicuous as mare's tails.
As beyond the azure sky,
      a perfect calmness.
If I could reach (you) heavenward,
                                      a respite and a bliss!
Joyous wind is singing to me now,
calling,
befriending.
Paint me then the smile of Mona Lisa
    that never fades.
Brush strokes by the Fates.
Soles of my feet
     against the heaven's footstool -- 
uncomplaining.
Oh, the many walks.
What a joy the bosom finds!
            my heart is swelling.
As I take these outside wonders 
                                           within,
                                              divinely inspiring.

Deep Rivers

Deep rivers of life
sink deeper, flow narrow,
courage only can help to persevere.
Holding on though the rope is too high is crucial.
Following the flow of the river is the key.
Knowing its seasons determines success.
In winter walk uncomplaining on its icy banks.
In spring blossom like the flowers around it.
In summer flood, overflow like its waters.
in autumn, fade focusing on the future. 
When the golden, old sun rises,
Be happy
For dawn finally would have come.

Indifference of a Poet Forlorn

Digging the silence of the night...
Just for a heap of words...
Toiling in the middle of the night...
Not expecting any lavish rewards...!

Squeezing emotions...translating thoughts...
He writes the stories of his heart unend;
& creates wonder like earthen pots...
Alone without a dear or a friend !

As the only reward for his sleeplessness...
People castigate his style of living...
Critics bark in their usual business...
As though he is an useless thing...!

He never wants the world to read...
His painful plots of heart rending grief...
& how his heart is made to bleed...
Or how he is destined to weep...!

Hmm...But the civilized class...that has no time...
Finds time to dig the beauty of the art...
Looking for loopholes in words sublime...
Viciously stabbing the poet's heart!

But still the genius doesn't mind..
He is indifferent & uncomplaining...
Smiling at the assassins unkind...
As if he is purely detached...from each & every mundane thing...

Beauty

I am beautiful and im not just talkin about looks. Im UNUSUAL personality UNBELIEVABLE. Rare and unique just sit down and really get to know me. Im bein the only one of this kind. ....Without equal Im REMARKABLE. To love me is to know me. I have alot of good qualitys thats deep down inside of me. Qualifed to be the very best, willing to take on any quest. My beauty runs farther than just skin deep. My beauty lives inside of me...I have a radiant glow that flows in a steady stream. Deeply penetrating in me. Although to be uncomplaining, patiently, enduring thee essence of my beauty....Therefore endlessly bursting empathy. Unconditionally able to console sympathy brings out the best in me. Im BEAUTIFUL with a smile thats magical makeing my heart supernatural....defines my beauty and thats justifiable...no need to be judgementel....my beauty is always humbel, never deniable simply just wonderful...
       MY BEAUTY...

My Son

Strong
spirit
faithfully
uncomplaining
thus, you have been since your beautiful birth

Once a soft and cuddly baby boy
now, a stalwart
steadfastly
serene
man

Ó November 16, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Football

Just like a football I am and have 
been bounced around a bit,
But only by chance of fate, no man 
would get away with it.

The football suffers silently
the grabs, the throws, the kicks.
I’m not one to take that from 
the country boobs or the city slicks.

I come from a line of strong women
who took on varying roles.
My grandma was a marcher 
for equality at the poles.

Grandma raised her family of five
after her young husband died,
by sheer strong will and hard work
with no helpmeet by her side.

My paternal grandma must have been
a strong willed woman too.
She raised a very respectful son
who gave womenfolk their due.

My mama raised four strapping sons
without needing to raise a hand,
no slaps, no harsh words and no threats
to make them understand.

She passed down to her daughter
unrelenting self respect.
Rough handling me would surely bring 
more grief than you’d expect. 

So I’m not much like a football
nor would I ever be
an uncomplaining plaything
kicked around so endlessly.

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