Unkissed Poems | Examples

this morning

Morning poem
 From a prince’s shining light will it be possible to see the beginning of the day as it was before dawn the moment before it was unkissed by anyone but you before life began as the story go And no one knew what to say about the day
Before anything was born leaving the darkness behind like an unwanted dream of what was before the light was born
Is it not possible to see what life was before the mountain kissed the shore unseen by anyone but you not yet awake to understand the wonder of a new day so never mind the light if you have seen the beginning of the day the last kiss before I die 
I shall say no more.

Dangerous Dan McGrew

Who are you
Dan McGrew?
You sound quite mean
If rumours' true

You lodged yourself
Inside his head
Some seventy years
Still, now you're dead

A tale of love
Of bars and booze
The wheel of fate
Alas, you lose

The west was wild
Back in the day
As danger framed
Each male afray

But what of Lou?
The lady fair
Of unkissed lips
And tousled hair

A broken heart
May never mend
A scar unhealed
Until the end

So as our story
Precious told
Still held in head
Though tired and old

A life not lost
No shooting here
Just words uncovered
Crystal clear

By man with joy
For life, 'tis true
May soon reunite
With his own lady Lou

Unkissed Rose

I wanted to post one more small entry
I will be responding to any and all comments
have a wonderful night and weekend too
thank you

"unkissed rose"

an unkissed rose has no life
such is cold and passionless
a stem without touch
a petal without fragrance
a flower without love

nurture the rose to breathe
and let desires play out
return the stem to feel
return the leaf to perfume
return the butterfly whole

affections and sensations
such is life of a kissed rose

SkyWatcher
10-21-23

Bajou

you gave a bajou
and the summer rain
toppled and confused
we left under our own accords

In the morning
we recanted,
sitting in misery
you said you never loved us


we tried to stroke our bruised egos
but the arcane wind was chaffing,
with the rest of your friends
we sweetly languished 
unkissed by the dawn

Why Don'T They Love Us

Why do we always say falling in love?
We keep doing it but we don't move,
Is it because love is down and not above?
Every day we're failing, we don't improve,
Why can't it fly high in the sky like a dove?

Why does our heart break into pieces?
We give it out but they dine it with spices,
We shout but they cannot hear our voices,
While wooing them we make lots of sacrifices,
Why can't they choose to treat us like princes?

Why are our minds always depressed?
We dress them but they leave us exposed,
We keep trying but they're never impressed,
We keep knocking but their doors remain closed,
Why does our whimsical mouths remain unkissed?

                         ©Kelmwa

Lover of My Dreams

He comes to me at eventide when all is quiet, still,
As I sit alone in darkening listening to the trill.
Of night birds as they give their call rousing at the gloaming,
To begin the evening hunt and I with them go roaming.

I feel His arm around me as I walk in twilight mist.
I feel His love surround me though I remain unkissed.
He is the lover of my dreams in whom I can confide.
He is the friend and confidant in whose arms I hide.

He soothes my wounded spirit.
He heals my aching heart.
He restores my confidence,
And all my fears depart.

He is no ordinary man whose ego I must feed,
No knight in shining armor upon a great white steed.
He's good and kind and loving though He knows my every deed.
He knows me well but loves me still. He's all I'll ever need.

Treading Water

My flesh is screaming,

if the cancer is me,

Then cut me out

and set me free.

No more to endure

The sight of the shore,

While drowning capsized out at sea.

 

If I let myself go,

limbs aching and slow,

So close to that shore,

Then no more I’ll know

Of those I have missed

Of faces unkissed

Of drowning in tears of sorrow

 

But to them I will pass,

a pain that will last

Forever they’ll sail,

B’neath skies overcast.

A hurt so deep

A pain they'll keep,

My drowning will anchor them fast.

 

So tethered am I

to what I'm denied,

A childless mother

I must abide

By rules so cruel

Yet love is the fuel

And from drowning I shall not have died.

Vomit

Am I vomiting?
Or do I throw down instead of up.
Singing with a sudden frown,
In barf upon a promised gown.

I wore it to prom as a virgin.
I wore it on my wrist.
A flower wrapped around the list,
Of ankles cankled ‘neath a face unkissed.

I’m a pimple.
Pop me till I puke.
Until the thrill of the up I chuck,
Quacks like a drunken duck.

Or high like the school?
Drooling with the fellow mule.
Assing through town unable to procreate.
The father’s horse and mom’s whatever. 

Hybrids are for textbooks.
Useless as the diploma.
I forgot the words to the theorem,
I forgot the words above them.

Am I vomiting?
Am I poeting?
I threw down instead of up.

A Blank Page

A poem unwritten
Uncluttered; a baby's mind
     Unkissed innocence



Submitted for 'What I Really Like' Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy (Winner: 4th Place)
Date written and posted: 02/26/2019

Winter By the Coast

O to be beside the sea
When winter’s cloak unfurls
To sit beneath a silent moon
and watch the waves recoil

O to be beside the sea
Taste salt on unkissed lips
To drown below a million stars
The icy burn of frozen fingertips

O to be beside the sea
Now visitors have left
A town so full of life
Falls silent and bereft

O to be beside the sea
A chance to dream and weep
As the solitude of winter
Renders this coastal town asleep

Elixir

Elixir
Sometime ago when you were bold
you dreamed your dream of earthly fare
expecting your life would unfold
and show you what was waiting there
       anticipating what's unreal
        as part of lifes endearing deal.

Have you not guessed all life's the dream
from softer sleep than we should know?
Nothing is quite as it might seem
as it's observed from here below,
        and all our plans that go amiss
         fail in the light of failings bliss.

tis better lost, our hearts desire,
than be the slave to life or love
no matter that it burns a fire
nor that it's what we're dreaming of;
         we have to take this costly pause
          and so we lose what never was.

What's left is life that goes unkissed,
as we dream on, and search in vain
for something that we might have missed
that adds to years, and all our pain;
        a pill for death, that keeps us deep
         into the dream of life we sleep.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Undulating Seasons

Autumn moon moods taunt my soul
as satirical jazz rocks locked, untold
gory stories of defeat, retreating soulless
untold joys, imploding screams unblest.

As a season, I reason stages of reproach,
storms of normalcy, winds of encroached
feelings reeling to hot to handle scandal
remissed, unkissed; insistent rare mantels.

Making Love To the Muse

She followed me downward,
  her lips were on fire

From the depths of her lake,
  every wish she inspired

Water everywhere,
  lily pads on end

A frog left unkissed,
  the price of pretend

She looked at me sadly,
  the bottom came soon

My arms reached out madly,
  to drown or to swoon

Her voice calling gently,
  my spirit renamed  

As my soul she undressed,
 —inside her again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2017)

Elixir

Elixir
Sometime ago when you were bold
you dreamed your dream of earthly fare
expecting your life would unfold
and show you what was waiting there
       anticipating what's unreal
        as part of life's endearing deal.

Have you not guessed all life's the dream
from softer sleep than we should know?
Nothing is quite as it might seem
as it's observed from here below,
        and all our plans that go amiss
         fail in the light of failings bliss.

better lost, our hearts desire,
than be the slave to life or love
no matter that it burns a fire
nor that it's what we're dreaming of;
         we have to take this costly pause
          and so we lose what never was.

What's left is life that goes unkissed,
as we dream on, and search in vain
for something that we might have missed
that adds to years, and all our pain;
        a pill for death, that keeps us deep
         into the dream of life we sleep.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Fair Exchange

A special book you meant to read
in leisure moments you were freed
Instead you prove with Mommy deeds
Adventure's found in filling needs.

A play, a ballet -those you missed
you knew how sniffles could persist,
And sleep eludes a tot-unkissed.

Perchance you fancied distant lands
or conujured walks on sun-warmed sands
Instead you shared your pots and pans
joined little ones with sand-box plans.

Recall that invitation out to dine?
You wrote politely, "I decline,
a picnic planned for me and mine."

And if those dreams long stored away
Rise up to tease you -that's O.K.
You'll push them back and let them lay
and smile at sounds of children's play.

Those other dreams of long ago?
They've been replaced, oh yes -you know.
Exchanged for joy! -your girl -your boy.

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