Untangle Poems | Examples

Healing Poetry

The poet knows that broken things
still catch and hold the light,
that even shattered verses
can illuminate the night.
We write our way through tangled thoughts,
untangle knots with rhyme,
transform the chaos in our minds
to music, line by line.
Each word a small rebellion
against the urge to hide,
each poem proof that even pain
can blossom into pride.
So let the ink flow freely
through the labyrinth of care—
for in the act of writing down,
we learn that we are there.
Not lost, not gone, not broken past
the power to create,
but human, whole, and worthy of
the stories we translate.????????????????

On the Path

slowly we evolve 
blinking within universes 
moving forward solve
facing ourselves in mirrors 
knowingness sees then stands deep 

nothing becomes time
matter meaningless messy
we sing songs as chime 
when awakening to truth
egos escape shiver shake 

let go forgiving 
untangle own threads and dread
climb green trees to see
eclipses giving clarity
on the path with sanity

Tears of the Dragon

I can’t believe I once believed
that dragons could shed tears—
a time when my mind was robed
in the fragile cloth of childhood.

I wandered alleys where clouds bent low,
pressing their weight upon my skull.
Shadows snapped at my heels like starving dogs,
my heart swung loose inside my throat.
The tremor in my boots chained me still,
and every thought I birthed became a phantom,
scrawled in the dark, painted across the sky.

Those years were lived in trembles and fears,
each night a prayer for the ocean to come,
to wash me clean of figures
that crouched in corners,
that flickered like mirages where light bled thin.

How did those faces dissolve,
slipping from cloudbanks and corridors of shade?
How did they crawl out of my mind,
leaving silence where terror once nested?
Why was the darkness that devoured me then
locked away as a riddle,
a secret even I cannot untangle?

And those I asked only mirrored my silence.
Some still breathe the same trembling air—
fears childhood carved deep,
fears adulthood disguised.
But new specters gather around me now,
pressing their weight like tides unseen,
and once more I beg the ocean:
take me under, strip me clean.

Morning Light

Two days fold into quiet hums,
breath held beneath a calm pulse.
Words spill like rivers too fast,
caught before they reach the sea—
soft currents pulling me past.

A new path flickers, shadows bend,
anxiety’s tide that crashes, then breaks.
Beneath it all, a fire whispers—
slow as dawn’s first gentle light,
soft as skin that will not end.

Hands move in gentle rhythm,
peeling layers, shedding time.
Love weaves through steam and silence,
a thread that holds between heartbeats—
quiet grace in simple signs.

She doesn’t know the weight of light,
how small touches untangle night.
Mornings bloom inside the cracks
where words are barely breath—
soft laughter trailing on.

Steam rises, curling slow,
time bends to a sacred flow.
The house in dreams awaits,
balconies bathed in honeyed glow—
a room that waits to know.

the day after tomorrow

i will do it
the day after tomorrow.

i will do it 
when the sun feels less
like an interrogation,
and my skin stops
aching from the weight of my blankets.

i will answer texts,
fold the clothes,
untangle the mess in my chest
long enough to sweep the floor.
i’ll brush my teeth
like it means something.

but not today.
not while the silence
keeps calling me back.

i know this isn’t living.
i know.
but knowing and moving
are countries apart.

i keep promising myself
a better self.

one that rises with intention,
one that doesn’t let coffee go cold
three times before giving up.

the day after tomorrow
i’ll start again.
the day after tomorrow
i’ll believe that means something.

Unraveling the Knot of Knowledge

I was certain.
I was sure.
I knew what I knew—
until I didn’t.

A thread pulled,
a question I never meant to ask,
a whisper splitting at the seams.

The more I learn,
the less I know.
The less I know,
the more I understand.

I trace the edges of truth,
only to find them fraying.
I tighten the knot.
I loosen the knot.
I untangle it. I make it worse.
I follow the thread back to the beginning—

but the beginning isn’t there.

The fibers unravel between my fingers,
silk turning to dust,
logic thinning like stretched cloth.

I tell myself it makes sense.
I tell myself it doesn’t.
Both things are true.
Neither is.

I pull again.
The thread coils, writhes, tightens around my wrists—
or maybe those aren’t my wrists.

If I keep pulling,
will anything be left of me at all?

The Maze

I lay , Frozen in my own creation - The Maze
 It is gawked at by passerbys
Only to laugh and scrutinize.
They undermine the hold of them on me
Not one willing to stay and untangle the poisoned ivy parasitically preying

They comment at my state
And hand me empty maps
Telling me how simple it is to evade
Damned if I attempt to escape
I resign to my demise
Damned if I pray for a saviour
I attempt to sew my own tears
If only I was defined
If only I had refined
If only I hadn't mind
If only I'd been blind
Would the tangled vines remain intertwined?

If I tear through will I survive?
Or is it easier to stay docile?

I'm the prisoner of my own mind
Put on death row subjected to a perpetual decline,
Was it my fate to become like this?
Or was it a fault of mine?
I fear I don't have enough time to decide
For I'm next in line

A mistake

A Mistake
Was talking to you a mistake?
I thought I was just being brave,
but now I wonder if I should’ve stayed quiet,
kept my distance, and let the silence save me.
You said things I’ll never forget,
but maybe I was better off not knowing.
Maybe the truth wasn’t worth the pain,
and the connection wasn’t worth the strain.
You’re a beautiful mess I can’t untangle,
a story I keep rereading, even when it hurts.
Maybe I should’ve never opened that door,
but now it's too late, and I can't close it anymore.
A mistake?
But even mistakes shape us,
and in this one, I learned—
Some things can’t be undone,
even when they leave you undone.

Fragrance In The Earth

Sweet balmy fragrance of time
Come and romance with my spiritual mind
Come and touch the petal of love
And untangle the age-old mystery from above
Open your hands and fill this empty space
And when the hour has come take a trip to the East
And watch the movement of the sun
  As it spills its energy upon the earth
And fill the atmosphere with sweet aroma
Come and discover this enigmatic moment
Bursting with silent laughter around the corner
Come and observe the strange elements within
And make a wish before the day is done.
Look towards the far end of the sea and watch the waves
Weeping bitterly for thee,
Whisper words of comfort in my ears and
Show me that you really care
Time is moving swiftly with the turbulent wind
And you have to cross over the turbulent bridge

The Silent Struggles

No one knows
how much you’re struggling
until it’s too late,
when the weight of it all 
is a shadow too heavy to carry.

No one understands
how hard it is to speak
the unspeakable,
to let the words fall
like fragile glass
shattering across silence. 

Your pain
is a quiet echo,
a storm that no one hears
until it’s raging.

Your feelings 
are a tangled mess,
each thread too delicate
to untangle 
without losing something.

Your thoughts
are clouds in the sky,
drifting aimlessly,
afraid to settle
for fear of being caught

Your dreams
are whispers in the dark,
fading just as you reach for them,
too distant to touch
but too close to forget.

And still,
you carry them,
the weight that no one sees,
the quiet that fills the spaces
where words should be.

You wait 
until you realize 
that maybe there will never be 
a moment
to speak.

YE SEEK, YE FIND

YE SEEK, YE FIND
Seekers who seek
Seeker shall find
Just in Time
For the Seeker to Unwind
The secret to Untangle
The tangled Mind
He or She who Seeks
Must wait in Line
To untangle the Rope
To untangle the Line
Some which are Thick 
And some which are Fine
Some belong to You 
And others are Mine
So Ye Seek
And Ye shall FIND
Just in Time
The hidden Secret
To untangle the Rope 
To untangle the Line
That Patiently awaits
In the Now Untangled Mind

2 April. 2021
By: Xanthe LaDale Smith

Since When Did You Care What Your Parents Thought

since when did you care about what your parents wanted,
their trembling hands clutching dusty photo albums,
dreams for you etched in whispers,
like the fine print on a warranty you never read.

smart, they said,
smart enough to untangle the wires,
but never the knots in your chest.

immortal—they wanted you invincible,
a timepiece that slowed down
only for holidays and funerals,
never noticing that your hours burned faster than theirs.

abstinence, they prayed,
as if purity were a shield
against the sharp teeth of the world,
but science taught you
the chemistry of craving,
the physics of loneliness,
the biology of need.

they wanted you science-oriented,
but you learned to dissect their dreams,
and the heart, you found,
was just another organ
pumping blood
into someone else's expectations.

So since when did you care?
you don't.
you never did.
broke and trying to raise two kid's
before age twenty.

Art of Avoidance

We collect unresolved arguments,
    like spare buttons in a jar—
        each one waiting for its moment
            that never arrives.

Yesterday's dishes grow cultures
    in the sink while we pretend
        not to notice, like the way we ignore
            how your toothbrush stays dry for days.

Remember how we'd marathon films all night?
    Now the TV stays dark and cold;
        our watchlist growing longer and longer—
            a queue of stories we'll never finish.

The grocery list on the fridge
    yellows at its edges:
        takeout numbers and Netflix passwords,
            four years of shared logins we'll have to untangle.

Our lease renewal sits unopened—
    a time bomb on the counter—
        while we both scroll apartments
            in separate browser windows.

We've mastered the art
    of "maybe next year" and "we'll see,"
        both too kind or too coward
            to say what our silence already knows.

-

Ephemeral

Ephemeral

There's a lot inside me,
A thing that dies every night,
Every dusk that I lay on my bed,
Close my eyes, and sleep.

I feel a part slip away, stealthily,
I do not know where it goes,
But it never comes back.

It digs a tunnel inside,
A void that's never filled,
Only occupied by
Vengeance, hatred, and lies.

My heart is in knots,
I'm lost, and can't untangle.

Things I longed to see
left me drowning in a sea
--an ocean of tears
where I can't swim 

my limbs are too short
 much like a shrimp 

i find solace in the sunrise 
and mend my heart 
with poetry from the ancient quill
where meaning to love 
is explicated in depth 

© MZEE MACH 
_27th Nov, 2024

The Rent of Judgement

I've traipsed down a cobble of your path.
If you're ever lost, forgotten or misstep
I'll surely spruce up a room for you.
It'll be on the mundane -humble side 
but safe-warm and welcoming
like in a child's sunlit dream.
I can cloak the well-worn floor
with a pattern of your choice.
There'll be no rent (of judgement).
Only a gray shoulder to stain 
with the colors of your 
desperation and heaviness.

We'll whisper of the misty past 
untangle the present and its jaggedness
pan the gold from the slag of tomorrow.
I'll gently lay a patch upon
that blue chip in your heart
for I love you immensely 
you can stay forever if you wish
dear heart

• Short Untangle Poems
• Famous Untangle Poems
• Best Untangle Poems
• Read Untangle Poems
• Long Untangle Poems
• Untangle Quotes