In Search Of
Battling to mend unwanted love
expressed with extreme sincerity
Hope may never see light above
nor anguish throbbing intensely
Spirit a corroded chain enwraps
defied fear as moments elapsed
The wish of being loved entraps
gateway to tranquility collapsed
Sought infusion for weary veins
eager to enter the unopen door
Staunch determination remains
until I see what I am looking for
Premiere V - Open Poetry Contest
Rob Carmack
The cardinal went where the other birds missed
A robin, blue jay, and sparrow had their misses
But aimlessly flew around the garden of roses
Yet so oblivious to the creation of beauty in their path
While this rose stretched her carriage to the sun
The cardinal moved forth and introduced himself
The door was open and the cardinal frenzied in
It was just small talk of unopen presents
And making new discoveries between them
At seeing this the robin, blue jay, and sparrow sank
Like boys at a high school dance that were tongue-tied
There's a spark in the air and a candle waiting to be lit
For the cardinal found a match
The next day the robin, blue jay, and sparrow are saddened
As the rose was no longer there
The cardinal went where the other birds missed
A robin, blue jay, and sparrow had their misses
But aimlessly flew around the garden of roses
Yet so oblivious to the creation of beauty in their path
While this rose stretched her carriage to the sun
The cardinal moved forth and introduced himself
The door was open and the cardinal frenzied in
It was just small talk of unopen presents
And making new discoveries between them
At seeing this the robin, blue jay, and sparrow sank
Like boys at a high school dance that were tongue-tied
There's a spark in the air and a candle waiting to be lit
For the cardinal found a match
The next day the robin, blue jay, and sparrow are saddened
As the rose was no longer there
connie pachecho
1/2/23
I am the heartache in unopen love letters, that are not written in love. They are bathed in sadness.
I am a pawn in a game of chess, a move away from checkmate. A move more significant than my worth. My value more bigger than the move.
I am faith in a closed Holy book, buried in an abandoned temple. People come to Pray. They don't know how to pray. They still pray. They pray in the wrong language.
I am the city of lights, amidst a lockdown, empty streets. Not even a begger in site to come in
exchangé of a prayer.
I am myself and there is no explanation for that, i am myself in the infinty of existence.
I am myself, war and peace wrapped in aching bones.
I am myself but who are you?
CLOSE OF THE DAY
Another evening void
Of friends or lovers
Ending in the well lit
Road silent down
To the gut bridge
No cats no traffic
Tarmac surface curving
Down and right
Lots of space without movement
Windows unlit doors unopen
Belisha beacon invites
Its call unanswered
Beer can empty
Rolls in the breeze
Rattles down to the bridge
Waiting to be crushed flat
Under a tyre to end
Its random wandering
24 October 2019
Labels for groups of people are ridik.
No one fits.
Generalizations silly.
Few fit.
Bigots, unlearned, unaware, uninformed, unfriendly, unopen.
Not me.
Not me.
Not me.
Ha!
One day during counseling class I remembered how mad
it used to make me when a boy could shout out an answer,
but if a girl did it without raising her hand
I was punished.
This used to enrage me.
I used to plot the teacher's demise.
If I pointed it out, I was swiftly punished.
Damn it made me mad!
I am still mad, fifty years later.
This is when I realized I had been letting the boys
shout out, but the girls had to raise their hands
or
I verbally cut off their heads.
Shame on me!
My eyes were closed then
On eyes unopen you felt
Me dreaming of you.
Eyes are open now
In your eyes unclosed I see
Me drowning in you.
It is surreal to me.
Corridors of dazzling colours.
Sonerous gurgling from hidden streams.
I must be in a gorgeous dream.
Murmurous whisperings of fairies.
In arcane little dwellings.
Or are they in the bulbous swellings
of unopen water lilies?
Far off I spy two beautiful fillies.
Until I stroke their silky manes.
In case I ner return again.
Please don't wake me.
Oft my mind to your sweetness flies
For the sway of you is the life of mine
Serene smiles and your light coincide
To unbolt my spirit and distort my time
But my ears must unopen to your murmurous chime
Long I've been dispossessed of your touch divine
Yet I persist and pursue in such torturous rhymes
But now has flown when my heart must decline
And the hour speaks that my passions must resign
For long, ages ago did your love whisper good-bye
And from that deadly moment since I have denied
That it was my once lively soul that has lonely died
Everytime I said my prayers you took my showers without peace
so much for peace sake Everytime I tried to do what's right you
defeated me with another fight Everytime I tried to go the church
you met me with the devil suit on Everytime I tried to start a new program
you took my ideas and gave it to the dead without speaking Everytime I
tried to settle down and read a book my last semester wasn't the only thing
you took
Everytime I cried and thought this is my last tear someone else hurt me who
I thought was sincere Everytime I try to meet new friends the same problems
come back again Everytime I watch the sunset to the moon the morning I wake
with gloom Everytime I say I hope this is it I hope this dosen't happen anymore
still awaits another unopen door Everytime I want out I end up crying my eyes out
Now I embark on a new Eddie's come and gone another year when will I see
a new path when will they all stop kicking my ..........a
Another day another offering of my good thoughts my good nature towards for
man kind I guess I'll leave all this ..........s behind.
Copyright@ December 2013
Blue roses and chocolates have been lying there,
untouched and unopen over three days now,
sadly turning rejection into endless despair;
even light struggles to filter through the closed window...
My gifts aren't appreciated, or even remembered,
and I am torn apart by disbelief and tremor:
with the empitiest feeling ever contemplated;
my disappointed sweetheart expected more...
Perhaps a bracelet or necklace with dazzling diamonds,
would have made her definetely happy like any circus' clown;
if love lusts after material and insignificant things,
it has no sentimental value in itself, only a monetary one...
Uncaring and silent, with a blank and wandering look that
disfigures the divine face I admired and worshiped always,
my embittered darling is overwhelmed with vanity, touching her neck;
sensing visions of glamour and imagining the feel of sapphires...
Everything I gave her was given out of kindness,
and my blue roses and chocolates should be a gift
of the kindest of souls offering the simplest things;
and isn't her greed more implacable than a sullen sky full of rage?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
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