Unwrinkled Poems | Examples

My Innocent

Vigilant, I watched you sleep,
your face untroubled,
unwrinkled by harsh,
corrugating conscious time.

Did dreams of comforts
or of losses once
bring smiles,
grimaces?

Free from worldly worries,
you're innocent once more.

No more awakings:
long deep death
is endless.

I have no "faith" --
but, through tears, I
see you rest easy.

Loveable Unwrinkled Witch

Loveable unwrinkled witch had a lovely ho-ho-ho.
She got mixed up with her sister who was Santa’s wife.
Early dementia is no laughing matter, so….
We gave her a pass, but never let her use a knife.

We cut her corn off the cob, for she had no teeth.
She was okay with that and howled at the moon.
We put her photograph on a Christmas wreath.
And told her sister we would send her there soon.

They were twins and liked each other a lot.
The unwrinkled witch had a sordid past. 
She slept at the North Pole on a charming cot
And was next to her sister, happy at last.

Still Life For Words In G Major

Still Life For Words in G Major

Our slippery searching years peel away, 
From a central pulsating rind beating fast,
Which glistens like a deep sky beam of green fire,
Emitting unseen filaments with tiny balls of sap,
Crowning their peaks with a watery white bulb,
of time mixed with multitudes of naked mirrors;
Our unique human voices swim now in cloudy rivers 
Like fish that have been thrown back after the hook,
Old dead friends haunt me as the stars outside 
Continue their eternal dust dances in the dark,
They shake my hand as they manifest bodily,
With youthful stubborn ardor and unwrinkled skin,
To past minutes and forgotten hours, 
Now digested like last night’s roast left on the stove,
By dead friends now holding flowers in a sullen graveyard, 
That big green obscenity splashed with naked sun,
Peeling away from the core, the central pulsating rind, 
The inner turning eye of the subcutaneous heartbeat.

Snow of Seeds

Fond twizzle of dandelion —
Its snow of seeds, that tantalize
cerulean skies I lie in.

The invisible suns arise
With warmest swarm of honey bees,
The sweetest taste of Summer breeze.

Unwrinkled face of youth repose.
My eyes, they blink the flakes quick freeze.

4/27/2019

A Poem On Patina

Pat-I-na or PAT-i-na? Both are acceptable 
   For without it, an object is less than delectable

Bronze or copper sculptures may be raw and exciting  
   But without any patina, they won't be inviting

As with a young lady of 20 next to a dame a bit older
   One's skin is unwrinkled; the other's patina is bolder  

And so too with poems, be they old or brand-new  
   The former take on patina; the latter need glue

Spring Unleashed

Rain rushed in like a concert audience.
There’s nothing calm about Spring’s arrival.
The specter gusts regrets and survival,
Strip limbs for whips — a sore obedience.

A path cut through, a cold subservience.
The robin’s heavy breast with cheep revival.*
A rose depressed in past Spring’s archival.
Absence of warmth, enrages audience.

A sip of dandelion wine — desire
spurs wholesome cheat, complete with snowy seeds.
Remembrance of unwrinkled hands - youth’s lore,
A marshmallow on spit, and rosy fire.

Enhance the peace and love of daisy beads.
Unwind the twister’s coil, unleash Spring’s core. 

3/21/2018
Greg Cornish’s Petrarchan Sonnet contest

cheep - to utter faint shrill sounds : peep, to utter a single word or sound
(from Merriam Webster dictionary) Also mimics the word “cheap”

The Next Day

The next day,
Filled,
With the dreams,
Of uncompleted history,
Promises hope,
And time,
Except,
You have things to do,
Others need you,
Depending,
Requiring,
For their absolutes,
You are a means,
To their end,
A helpful partner,
To their process,
You drift,
Through the day,
The week,
The year,
Even the leaves,
Get their days,
Of green and yellow,
But not you,
You wait,
You muddle,
Bask in the glory,
Of busyness,
So active you are,
Getting things done,
Truth teases,
Scratching,
At the closet door,
It hangs,
Unwrinkled,
Waiting to be worn,
Because it was made,
Just for you,
It's comfy,
Regal, even,
The world awaits,
Your cloak,
Your stroll,
Down the runway,
To record,
What's to come,
And that's your dream,
A designer's sample,
The glimpse,
That tells the story,
The next day,
You are scheduled,
To appear,
Present your case,
No jury,
No judge,
No verdict,
An opening argument,
Your evidence,
Which validates,
You,
Being,
Here,
Wasn't a waste after all.

(10/14/02)

Goodnight

I thought you were lying beside me
I was so warm in your embrace , side
By side not a care in the world just you 
And me, king size bed, guy and girl

But when I awoke your side of the bed
Was unwrinkled, cold, barren, shapeless
And reality brought me back no you!
Day in day out! What am I to do?

Finding Love is so hard today. 
Dysfunctionality is the normal measure
A bird in the hand is worth two in a bush
Thing is you don't know about tomorrow

Time passes idly by I hear your steps
I catch a glimpse of your white coat
We had a beautiful life together
The island trips, cruises on the boat

The birds still call your name 
We all loved you more than you know
Our life together was cut short
Cancers' the one who made you go

Snow will be coming here soon
Although you will never be cold again
Don't worry I still have your ashes
My promise to return them to England

Goodnight my love I miss you so
I am writing this to you before bed
It helps me sleep to write to you
And tell you the thoughts in my head 

I cherish the home we have and
The time we had together my love
Goodnight my love with all my heart
May God keep you safe above.

Far Away

FAR AWAY

shell necklaces tinkle
  palms and fingers tell a story
 awkward hips expound

humidity low in Waikiki
    the eighties so far away

     our garlands in our grasp
with cherub smiles
  holding unwrinkled hands

     in an exotic land
       we call our home

little ones shall forget
  the sound of the sea
 my sailor cap
          boogie boards slapping

the waves
   warm sand beneath their toes

we keep in touch with sentimental
 stories  navy brats really don’t understand
       pearl harbor after the war 

my mind wanders
            seeing a minute engraving ~

picturing a bomb and 1941
      life goes on and on
  meeting up with us
            ~~ passing us by

7/10/2017

Glimpses

we pull the car over
photo op for a toddler
a scintilla of snow

moments like this
a kiss from God

~

arms are  open wide
for a Vermont bouquet
a spectacular display of poppies

“honey, honey!
stop the car!”
i pose aunt and uncle
then spouse and i

~

a poetry tree found
on the side of the road
(breathless)
i needed to know
what was its name

taking photosnaps of
its fine mimosa leaves
and that is not all
by any means

for a honeysuckle scent
picked me up
sent me hurling back
to childhood

my wristband pulses
throb with innocence
unwrinkled in time

sublime perfection
of snippets

momentary euphoria
in flora that lifts
me up by the nose

gathers tulips
into the mind’s
vacuous space
between the eyes

~

the autumn winds
that caress my face
make me blush

prop me up
in a high school stadium
cheering with peers

throwing confetti
stomping feet

~

i adorn the quilt
of God’s good favor
wrapped around
my shoulders

we yearn for time travel
past and future

why don’t we realize
grace has already complied?

Welcome 2017

Welcome 2017

     
2016;
 A year of tribulations and blessings    
                   Bring in an end to the tribulations with a new dawn
                        Dawn of a new day, a New Year, and many more to come  
                             With scents of new roses before me with the new sun
                                  Blessings to carry on

         I choose to wear pure white and unwrinkled 
              Leaving the raven shadows behind with no fear
                   Fearing not the welcoming light at the end of the tunnel 

         Tunnel opens;   
               For 
                    I have the warmth of the sun to enkindle
                         Clearing the way  with one step in front of the other  
                              Wave goodbye to the end of 2016 
         Enliven  2017


12/31/2016

At the Horizon

Intimate cushion of your embrace
Eyes open and cocoon was just a farce
Elapsed moment a dream
Present abode like any other place
Absent mortal impression on sheets unwrinkled
Madeup lodging, your absence more pellucid
Arrogance, an escort to rising phoenix
To other's sensitivities, response less jumbled
Swamped in syrup of shattered illusion
Alas, intelligence in shade of celestial govern
Sequences escalate, wisdom unsanctioned
Streamlines quill in a marathon sea of expression
Awaiting the echo of love
One's choice worthy despite your defiance
For even though seems like eons
Still young, vehemence of one's emotions
A taste of air, par horizon

Your Girl

Take these old hands into yours
remember how they felt when
they were unwrinkled and belonged
to a young girl.

Take this tired smile honey I know
you don't miss and see the temptation
of passion that even now old, burns with a 
deep desire for your kiss.

Take my grey touched, raven hair
and let it dance through your fingers
as if you do not care.

Take these older hazel, green eyes
and see that when looking at you
they still youthfully shine.

Take this old heart for it is still yours
and lend to it the thought that I am
no matter how old, still the same,
your girl.

Dear Rapunzel

It seems ages since we met over your long, golden hair
an hour glass on the table keeping the meter.

It seems like too many dress up doll days when we played
take me to the river but don’t get our feet wet.

It seems we lost our inner selves painting our faces
painting our nails, singing karaoke at the bars.

Oh, to regain those lost years of our youth, unwrinkled skin
turn back all the pages, like winding gold on a spindle.

Instead we have just leaves, grieves, and grandchildren
with their laser guns, plastic skin and smug attitudes.

They never challenged gamey little midgets with foul intent
they had us to pad them safely with money, love and scent.

Dear Rapunzel, do please let your hair down one more time
and play climb out of the cellar and up the apple tree with me.

Signed Your Dearest Play Mate.

Unfinished

(for all poets who cannot stop revising)

I am not finished
I am never finished
In the poet’s head
I am kneaded indefinitely

I am not finished
often typed
put in writing
spread imaginary
I am always one step
ahead of the poet

I am never finished
forever young
because the poet
smooths my wrinkles
forever and ever

But am I finished
when the poet is finished?
Or do I get a legal guardian 
and an unwrinkled future?

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