Unreconciled Poems | Examples

Tamarind Taciturn

Knights of the nebula pond?
Kingdom Gone, return.
Witch and wizard, wave thy wand!
Tamarind taciturn...

Knight errant by lightning struck?
O for help to call!
Cult black magic, I've got truck!
Luck, best drop that ball.

Stuck with indecision?
O plight of prisoner.
Seeress, here is worst vision!
Reality, blur!

Chained atop the atoll wild?
Mother, stillborn child.
Young lovers unreconciled.
Slaughterhouses tiled.

Mild, art thou, O fickle Fate?
Helpful is such hate!
Intellect, be not ingrate!
Gold, go to the gate...

Wait a second, Fortune.
In what hole ought I fill?
Tomb of pharaoh? Trick or tune?
Boon, how to pay bill?

Where then to dig? Why split my wig?
Swine, bequeath to pig!
O dark matter, space is big?
I don't give a fig!

Garden lost from ancient times?
Wind, rattle those chimes.
O for boxes about mimes.
Drop upon, my dimes...

Mariners immemorial?
Land ho? Not just yet.
Ergo, editorial?
Poisonous thy pet.

Forget? O river Lethe, thy sheath!
Belladonna, bequeath?
Mistletoe, art best in wreath?
Hollyhock, thy heath...

The Wounded Hero

Yesterday's heartaches fade away;
and yet, memories tend to stay.
Though love offers no guarantee,
it's the key to setting hearts free.

Clinging to unreconciled fears;
you blame fate for your years of tears.
And erect emotional walls;
discouraging love when it calls.

Your heart choreographs each move;
as if love has something to prove.
And as doubt denigrates your mood,
you get defensive and unglued.

When your chances drop to zero,
you react, the wounded hero.
Learn to give, as well as receive;
be true to truth; do not deceive.

The Silent Crib

Long the silence in his crib 
Where happiness once bloomed.
Draped in black are closed white doors
Of his empty nursery room.
No longer does his hobby horse 
Rock wildly with abandon.
No longer does his happy voice 
Echo down the hallway canyon.

Long are the faces of his parents 
In the nearby silent bedroom, 
Which hide unanswered questions 
Among sorrow guilt and gloom.
Why does God take such good young boys, 
And leave their homes so unreconciled?
Nothing empties your life so quickly 
As the death of your only child.

A Woman Brings

The duality of love, a woman brings, is the only possible thing,
that can save a man from himself. An untagged stray, harboring pain buried deep and unreconciled, unable to be healed and forgiven, by himself or others.
Inevitably causes the love the woman has brought, to move away, reluctant to be accessed, unless things could feel right again one day.
The man, his eyes now open, considering what's best for her, clearly no longer reachable, must recognize his self inflicted wounds, and start to heal them today.
And his gift for her? Fading silently away.

Body Or Soul

Body or Soul

Too often, when looking back, when memories grip
the mind and remind the heart of their sting
while breathing life into the days that sing
of when heart tempted heart and lip brushed lip.
That once there was no fitting time for tears
when the taste of despair began to cling
to passion's pouring from the heart's wellspring, 
while love's cold debt lingered in arrears.

Unreconciled yearnings of the past
exhume the soul of the body whose charms
reside in the glade where sylvan bells toll.
I am not sad, because I see at last
the folly of grasping at love with both arms, 
scarce knowing which is body and which soul.

Stillpoint

The space binding darkness to light,
birthplace of visions where souls 
do not stray in exclusion but congregate 
wearing the mantle of mercy and peace.

Bitter arguments unreconciled, blessings 
never spoken, angry exchanges left wanting
of prompt resolution have no meaning here. 

All torments are quieted, rumors and lies are 
forgiven, love and respect take their hold for those 
children of God who were wandering out in the cold.

Mask

You see me laugh. You see me smile.
My heart and soul, unreconciled.
Happiness for me is rare.
It's just another mask I wear.

You see me talking in a crowd.
The joyful soul who laughs out loud.
Yet my heart is a lonesome lair.
The extrovert, a mask I wear.

A private soul, I must pretend.
The courtesies that I extend,
an Oscar winning grand affair,
and just another mask I wear.

The Story of the Wave

June 29 1981

A wave who crept upon the shore
clutched suddenly at the sand
she seemed to cry before
she hissingly fled the land

Her sister came with increasing roar
slashing toward the quiet beach
the sand at whom she slashed and tore
was within her grasp yet out of reach

With the wave, Sand came away
with her sister he returned
whether next wave he'd leave or stay
he was decidedly unconcerned

Wave came with tender kiss
her sister with brooding hate
they dreamt of their past and this
left them unreconciled to their fate

Wave once was a raging cloud
her sister a brooks babbled snore
Wave thought the ocean a pleasant shroud
her sister blamed the shore

Stillpoint

The space binding darkness to light, 
birthplace of visions where souls 
do not stray in exclusion, but congregate 
wearing the mantle of mercy and peace. 

Bitter arguments unreconciled, blessings 
never spoken, angry exchanges left wanting 
of quick resolution have no meaning here. 

All torments are quieted, 
rumors and lies are forgiven, 
love and respect take their hold for those 
children of God who were wandering out in the cold.

When Autumn Comes

When autumn comes to drop it's leaves.
Unreconciled, the branches greive.
To enter winter's long goodbye.
Awaiting spring, again to sigh.

Amidst the heat of summer's sun.
The planted seed will soon be done.
Only the rain of heavens love.
Can help the plant rise up above.

The seasons we all have to live.
Are waisted if we don't forgive.
A heart that's full of pain and sorrow.
Requires hope to meet tomorrow.

When someone needs a helping hand.
It's nice when they can join the band.
To know that they can sing along.
To harmonize in life's long song.

Stillpoint

The space binding darkness to light,
birthplace of visions where souls 
do not stray in exclusion, but congregate 
wearing the mantle of mercy and peace.

Bitter arguments unreconciled, blessings 
never spoken, angry exchanges left wanting
of quick resolution have no meaning here. 

All torments are quieted, 
rumors and lies are forgiven, 
love and respect take their hold for those 
children of God who were wandering out in the cold.

The Heat

The heat sultry like a weight of skin
Saps my sinews and melt my bones
I am drained by the old legacy of sin
The trees too droop on sizzled stones

And from the black face of the street
A steamy billow rises like a net for fish
Or some bolas at my crumbling feet
Makes me want to run by only the wish

This is the tropic daytime when the sun
Its gasses pour and route men to sleep
This iss the tropics where life still goes on
While the heat my strength like harvest reap 

And do you say there it hotter burns than
This? And this the distant heat of that
The immovable furnace of unreconciled man
Frivolous around the fire like a glad gnat

Stillpoint

The space binding darkness to light,
birthplace of visions where souls 
do not stray in exclusion but congregate 
wearing the mantle of mercy and peace.

Bitter arguments unreconciled, blessings 
never spoken, angry exchanges left wanting
of prompt resolution have no meaning here. 

All torments are quieted, rumors and lies are 
forgiven, love and respect take their hold for those 
children of God who were wandering out in the cold.

Stillpoint

The space binding darkness to light,
birthplace of visions where souls 
do not stray in exclusion but congregate 
wearing the mantle of mercy and peace.

Bitter arguments unreconciled, blessings 
never spoken, angry exchanges left wanting
of prompt resolution have no meaning here. 

All torments quieted, rumors and lies are 
forgiven, love and respect take their hold for those 
children of God who were wandering out in the cold.

Stillpoint

The space binding darkness to light,
birthplace of visions where souls 
do not stray in exclusion but congregate 
wearing the mantle of mercy and peace.
Bitter arguments unreconciled, blessings 
never spoken, angry exchanges left wanting
of prompt resolution have no meaning here. 
All torments are quieted, rumors and lies 
are forgiven, love and respect take their hold for those 
children of God who were wandering out in the cold.

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