"unattained" poems
Life Coalesced
Envision the rest
Depressed or distressed
Worried less, I invest
May regress or finesse
Life's congruent mess
Mold your self, immaculate
Clear hate and evoke fate
Inspire, create and congratulate
Persevere when near,
Whilst you conquer fear
Happiness untamed
Dreams unattained
Mature and grow wise
In front of your eyes
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
OUR motion on the soft still misty river
Is like rest; and like the hours of doom
That rise and follow one another ever,
Ghosts of sleeping battle-cruisers loom
And languish quickly in the liquid gloom.
From watching them your eyes in tears are gleaming,
And your heart is still; and like a sound
In silence is your stillness in the streaming
Of light-whispered laughter all around,
Where happy passengers are homeward bound.
Their sunny journey is in safety ending,
But for you no journey has an end.
The tears that to your eyes their light are lending
Shine in softness to no waiting friend;
Beyond the search of any eye they tend.
There is no nest for the unresting fever
Of your passion, yearning, hungry-veined;
There is no rest nor blessedness forever
That can clasp you, quivering and pained,
Whose eyes burn ever to the Unattained.
Like time, and like the river's fateful flowing,
Flowing though the ship has come to rest,
Your love is passing through the mist and going,
Going infinitely from your breast,
Surpassing time on its immortal quest.
The ship draws softly to the place of waiting,
All flush forward with a joyful aim,
And while their hands with happy hands are mating,
Lips are laughing out a happy name--
You pause, and pass among them like a flame.
1.9k
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, a lost poem<3
my pathetic desperacy
all epic with a naturalistic misery
angels hailed my numbers
now my calculations fumble
the rest
the equation unsettled on an aimless quest
everything has changed
but the undeserved trust is an ultimate unattained
my state in dooms
orbiting faces behind moons
a wreckage when asleep
like the neptunes called me
she said hit the lights
but the blinds blinded my sights
wonderful
a little optimism whisks me hopeful
forget forever the features
that lulled me once to my breather
now something broken
don't worry nothing stolen
for me to stick for me to piece neat
queen the rusted diamonds under my seat
follow the heart's revolution
undercover not a solution
alone even if disappointing
even when betraying
let my allusions surf the six temples
shadows bathing my past resembles
to come clean
find the place beyond the cold mean
like the twirl of the system
no one else wanted to resist him
took me there
to the middle of no where
my dilemma is that frightened half
no good to steal no good to laugh
but with a wake up to them dreams such a slap
a wisdom's muse would eventually snap
stars dance
her sky tortures her glance
crimson red and she realizes
that the once for all so be it would summarize this
would the potion grant a pain?
the poison of them affairs regard my chained name
let go
just say yes to saying no
stay awake
don't sleep take a break
------ravenfeels
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 5:46 PM UTC
an empathy face
comes into focus out of the grey rain
with her own set of capitulations to the greater good
with her own price paid for the comforts cold and thin
an empathy face alabaster finely carved
with tears in stark contrast to the brightness in her eye
comes into slow resolution out of the grey grainy surface of the rain
with its harsh aspects felt like nails slowly driven
her thin red lips and blue shadow
her divine voice as she talks to some side person
her eyes never leaving yours
she is drinking you
with a deserts worth of thirsts
graceful she flows across the tiled floor
like she was born to such places
like she was born to glide where all others had crawled
but when she reaches you puts her hand to your arm
her fingers trembling her breaths short and swift her face flush
she pauses and lifts her head and plunges her soul into your eyes
with breathtaking abandon like an ******
her black sweater with a golden bird stitched into
her bracelet silver and bejewelled
her perfections catalogue in your mind in that momentary glimpse of heavens unattained
that she breaths in deep
drawing breath and strength
before she opens her song
before she cries out in such sweet tongue
at the bitter night
an empathy face
with her own set of capitulations to the greater good
with her own price paid for the comforts cold and thin
and i cry with and for her
as she cries with and for me
an empathy face
in the grey rain
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
A poem's a poem and nothing else
As they stand they will never be a tree
Even by God's decree
A poem's nothing more than the mangled thoughts
Spilling out of our heads
It's not the future that I see
Nor was it meant to be
Though I do admit
at times they tend to make me cry
And sometimes on the inside
they want to make me die
And again they give me hope
Even make me want to dance
And I come close to love and God
And they give me sense of balance
The world could do
without the poems
that funnel through our pens
But what a sorry lot we would be
without the freedom that it brings
So let the words flow like water
over Niagara Falls
Give our hearts the magic words
that make our spirits sing
Let us gain the unattained
Poems , and poetry is the name
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 8:53 AM UTC
There is a fractal fascination
in your quest for deception.
Curious remarks for sanity.
Check marked and logged for clarity.
Drowning from the lack of that relief.
Constant collection
Of moments left in obsolescence
When time has escaped me.
Once,
My voice.
Twice,
My actions.
And again three times unfocused
And ashamed of whomever I have not become.
This image of perfection that I left unattained.
Gone.
Unchained in my dreams
yet left gasping for reality’s song,
substance and form.
Irresponsible choice to not choose.
Let loose this ghost for acceptance.
For once tell me something I cannot bear;
some truth undeniable that tears
at me from this hollow
so deeply that its bliss scares me into Life.
Succumbing to surrender
and revelations of this infinite presence
unfolding forever into versions of myself
so familiar that I remember who I’ve been.
And weep that this whole time
I denied you.
Screamed “NO!!!”
When you were smiling and
holding the universe before me asking,
“Life? What are you doing? What can you do?
If anything, what will you do?
What point is being made? What questions being asked?
Found within this space always answered
and begging, demanding to be repeated; Understood and never ending.”
All at once I ask-ed myself through you
when I begin beginning to realize that You and I...
Am. Have, ARE, and Always will Be...
Thissss, thisssssah,
Moment lost in conspicuous brilliance.
Vibrating so “on high”
that most of our life is spent
and drained away believing we are less.
That we don’t deserve this one promise.
This one gift it has been givin.
This collective connection
taken for granted in the quest outside ourselves.
I AM the shelves built to hold me,
the still voice that told me
this was meant to mold the
absence of no-thing
from the cast shaped for ALL.
If only I can believe this shared experience means something.
To call forth my forgotten voice
without being attached to the illusion
that I can begin to see past this veil of infinity.
To the end.
This highest form of divinity.
This chest locked, yet it rests within me.
Waiting patiently to be
Re-discovered.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
fairy-tales, i blame my UN-satisfaction on fairy-tales
bright fancy color mixed with glitter dust and smiles hiding behind innocence was the perfect idea of exsistance engraved on my child like mind ensuring i will always strive for that level of perfection and when unattained i will turn on myself in viciousness known only by cannibalist
who is to say in this world filled with endless illusion and unrealistic drama that the life i lead is unperfect and not as good as it will ever get
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 4:43 AM UTC
I once was a kid,
Just like we all were.
I once saw the world through child-eyes.
I once chased butterflies,
And caught them.
I once danced through fields of flowers,
Breathed in the scent,
Of unattained dreams.
I once stared at a window,
and thought of all the beautiful things beyond.
But I no longer am a kid.
I now see the world through adult-eyes.
Butterflies are chased,
But never seized.
Field are left unbothered.
The aroma of dreams still lingers in the air,
Waiting to be found,
But left hidden.
I now stare at windows and only see the rain,
The clouds.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
I want to hate you
To crawl inside
My own stomach and die
While you fly
With your greedy suicide
Dissecting and erecting
Monuments to your opulence
Your eyes gleam with
Unattained wealth
You cannot help yourself
The media tells you what to want
Which block is the best block
Were you want to shop
How to stop the clock
And fear, fear, fear
And cheap beer, beer
Oh my deer
The headlight home in
On your definition of sin
But the only sin I see
Is that you believe
This is how life is supposed to be
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 3:36 PM UTC
Yesterdays memories fade like fallen leaves
Colored in by arrogance, ignorance and naivete
Despite the far off peril of days gone by
what used to be reality
now live as myths lingering in my own mind
Self esteem held together by shoe string and duck tape
Yet there still remains comfort in knowing I get to determine my own fate
(Slight Pause)
I'm mesmerized by how the potential of youth gets circumvented by circumstances and latency
how that potential gets swallowed whole by distractions and complacency
Lazy dreamers egos age like worn clothes
babies become broken adults, because far too many arent watched over
Many of them will be slain
All that effort to be delivered out of heaven just to die a fallen souljah
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 2:35 PM UTC
Does it not feel like rain today to you,
my delicate ghost?
That or the wind has lust,
blowing up my skirt, it must see the
white you left unattained by men
I say for you, these storms are
a chance to greet pureness again.
You have an O-mouth
the way your whispers ring like howls:
borrow the air, evaporate mud.
I hear such a sound and know that
virginity won’t be enough –
what tears do fall
from your great blue waterspout?
Do they know, my delicate ghost,
they are but pieces of you dropped in
my hands?
When a lace funnel carries your final
god-spits cleansing our land
you are so delicate, but I shall ask –
is it like rain for ghosts, is it sad?
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC
Too long hangs rain in our valley.
Sky's clouded face cracks to cry drizzle-patterns
over sown ground
and growing seedlings face hazard.
Too long has water earth-wronged.
Makes mud by changing each leaf to sponge
that ***** out green to
leave brown where verdant belongs.
Small lakes rise in the hedgerow-rose.
As tears of lime run down from hilly meadows
sad rinsing brings whispers
of wet killing by un-seasonal cold.
Too long shudder of feathers droop.
While across far horizons a fox runs foodless
as damp cubs look for sun
while prey floods in the hen-coop.
Too long a chill has made harvest weep.
Thatched cottages drip in the village street,
trees bleed moss and weight
burdens the thick-coated sheep.
Swathed in neglect droops each garden.
Knee-deep in unattained tasks the farmyard
sprouts idle days as folk bide
time waiting for signs of drying to start.
To long hangs rain in our valley.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
my heart thumps louder
as death appears
unspoken words hang in the trees
listen for my voice whispering in the wind
death draws nearer
unspoken sentiments in a simple glance
unattained goals and unmet dreams
death reaches out his hand
unspoken love in the things I did
a smile broaches my face
death touches me in that final moment
a world speaks of the love I gave
the love I gave with actions. not words
unspoken love, in the end,
is the most powerful of all
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 5:47 PM UTC
He, my love,
chose to see shadows of
another man in my pupil,
He, my love,
could not see adrift
coating them instead,
He, my love,
said tomorrow's a part of my hallucination,
it isn't there,
he said,
He, my love,
smeared his being
with untruth,
he said was me,
He, my love,
knew passion,
He, my love,
had an unattained character,
of obsession with beauty.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
Time floats with the dust
And hangs in our silence,
Mulls in our laughter,
Hides our reliance
On trust.
Oh say it if you must;
We can watch the
Metal rust
On our support beams,
Grow old and
Talk of dreams
Unattained nostalgically
But it seems
Like we'll always be
Stardust
Blown together
On a gust of chance.
And if it's true,
Let's entrance
Ourselves in
Harmonic wanderlust.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 11:49 AM UTC
Why is the world so unemancipated
have leaves Fallen yet branches stay covered
the knowledge of life, hidden.
may we know?
The treatment. suffering. Life unattained.
when may we know?
those who choose to live a life that many wish to stray
those who live their truth - others live.
The leaves bristle. One day I shook the tree.
spontaneous leave fell. I walked away.
May those who fall know to never stay.
let the wind blow away - you and your roots
Some, will hold. But Blow Away. Release.
That is the life where Freedom Reigns
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
I’ve seen shooting stars,
Their, bodies, burning undesired
Thrown away
Like banished tears
From the dark pupil of the sky
I’ve been holding the hand of
A decade worth of dreams undone forever
So they could achieve dreams of their own
Before my gaze
I’ve held their ghosts in my arms
I’ve been standing at a full “I mustn’t” worth of distance
From their lips
I’ve been filling in vain, the bottomless glasses
Of the most beautiful words,
That spring from the electric spark
Beneath the ribs
I’ve been leading the guerilla squads
Of my beliefs
Against the empire of Impossibility,
And its most decorated generals: Doubt,
Insufficiency, Wrong…
I’ve lied face-down, hands tied behind my back
For that traitor, Restraint…
But now… I forgive him now…
And now, Empires fall on their own
Now those dreams unachieved,
Meticulously paint their eyes
Wrinkled from the salty trickles,
That realization has drawn towards me
For I’ve always known that…
Loving is now or never
You cannot wrap it in tinfoil
And freeze it for later
Yet, they, those morally unattained, chastely righteous dreams,
They do arrive at Knowledge station
Aboard the Intuit train,
Atop the tracks of true common sense,
Alas, too late.
My loving is given now
To Fulfillment,
For it chose now to never
And caressed my scars of restraint
With warm fingertips
And kissed my see-through “I mustn’t” from the other side of the wall
To melt away the distance to my bloodless lips
*
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
again and again I tripped.
the first time
my shoelaces had been
white,
pure from the silt.
I noticed a stain from
the grime,
not bleak to the
first glance
but I knew my lacs
had lost
their purity.
one more time,
a piece of thread unraveled.
again, not drastic
to perception
but it was clear
my shoelaces
were erupting due
to the results of my reckless
wanderings.
again and again I tripped
and by the time I decided to face
myself in order to
reflect upon my ineptitude,
I didn't know who I was
or where I had been.
I was forced to ponder
my shoelaces
for what they really
were: unrecognizably filthy
my shoelaces were now charcoal,
fringed and covered by all the them for were
their ruined mess
muck and dirt I put them through.
I wondered if anyone could
tell that they were
once untainted and unattained
or if all they saw of them
were their ruined mess.
again and again I tripped
and I began to wonder
if there was any reason to get
back up again?
I gave all that I could give
and the result was
anesthetic sentiment
and
obscene shoelaces.
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
See it but never feel it.
Get close, only to push it away.
“Don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone”
Epitome of my life.
What is wrong with me?
What makes me so un-lovable?
Can someone remove this defective sign from my forehead,
And replace it with a kiss.
I want more than mediocre.
I want someone to miss.
Do I ask for too much?
Are my requirements unachievable?
My heart remains unconquered, unattained.
I’m tired of fairy tale endings,
Silly thoughts put in my head by unrealistic, but hopelessly believable movies.
They are all the same.
Girl meets boy. Girl messes it up. Boy forgives girl.
Happily Ever After.
At least they let on that relationships have problems.
I want raw, unrelenting love.
The real deal.
No movie, novel, or episode of *** and the City” could ever touch.
Left alone, drowning in thoughts,
Who else in the world could need love,
Like I need love?
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
The birthmark of Satan
a spherical star
Old curse in the distance
new devils at war
His prophecy stolen
the markings of Cain
Madonna the ******
rebirth unattained
Melody of darkness
blasphemies hymn
The garden left burning
original sin
Tomorrow in mourning
this moment on fire
The lamb off the altar
—redemption expired
(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)
May 13, 2023
May 13, 2023 at 4:03 PM UTC
The Goddess of Love
The exuberant fire that burns within my soul,
In that first embrace of a lovers smile,
Shall forever be held, in equality to the power of love.
Her servant shall forever wish for her luminous, infallible, tongue,
Which speaks of true love without a word conceived inside a lie;
For immortal shall be our love, until the end of days, to the grave.
In her face I can see God’s grace; the innocence of a babies cry.
Such trust can be forthcoming, towards this woman; this play.
This story of our lives, entwined hearts beating together;
For in her presence I find Heaven and shall be content forever.
This guiding star; the singular, most radiant concubine.
The love of a life, until the end of a destiny in the making.
Such joviality to be found, wherever she may go, in any loving line;
For this fugitive of love, shall wait forever to become her king.
She ignites an intense feeling, like a perfect literature.
Such a word of beauty does not exist,
To describe my love for her.
Her eroticism is the petroleum, tossed onto my passions fire;
For she is perfectly, but never overly, garrulous.
She could talk for England, about the condemned boy; her desire.
The one who speaks truth from the buxom and is never fatuous,
When speaking of her, for every syllable is bold and required;
For in her eyes, this ambassador of love has become enthralled.
I have fallen in love, for my soul speaks from the heart, undying;
Eternally worshipping this idol. This Goddess of forever more.
A forever love, or just a target for a cursed tongue? Who knows?
Nevermore a word of harm, spoken to the exotic Queen of future.
For I am her ardent follower, into the abyss of the blackest hole;
An uncertain, unattained as of yet, unknown destiny of this suitor.
For she sees my insides, and in her bed I cannot lie;
I cannot deny my adoration and fixation for her unchaste mind.
For intoxicating is her smell, her natural scent of amore, my diet.
Her lust is my need and in her soul I must become a requirement.
She has fallen from the stars and landed in my arms;
For in her I have found religion and immortality, for she is genteel.
She is reminiscent of happiness obtained, she is optimism itself!
She is hope, glory, blessed, sophisticated; true to me and for real.
I can trust in her words to never bring death to my door,
For suicide is no more welcome here, for I have perfection; behold!
My freethinking words, simply speak of devotion to my superior;
For her intellect shows obedience, to all Gods of love.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC
What if...
Tomorrow
was over today
What if...
I love you never came
What if ...
all you ever wanted
Stayed unattained
What if your life
Seemed like a game
What would you do?
Would you shift the blame?
Time stops for no one
We all go gray
So don't wait til tomorrow
Do it today
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
What would happen
If we read “X over X”
As the calculation
It deserves
Instead of so much
Self-serving banter?
We’d find what goes in what
And in quantities unforeseen
As conversing crowds
Among the qualities:
How about this?
“Mind over matter.”
How much matter is within mind,
What pieces of the world
For ideals left behind—
Perhaps what memories
In nutrients we disregard
And the patchwork politics
Between chocolate and hearts
Of artichoke.
What of “ballots over bullets?”
When blood spells the words
We’ve yet to choke
Down?
How many shots will be fired
Before we like band-aids
To wounds apply?
How much violence endures
Till democracy is blest,
How many protests cut down
Before we can lay down the sword?
What of the adage “brains over brawn?”
The well-known oath of courts and kratocrats
With force harp upon?
The strength which one must possess
To prove intelligence
Proves unattained
Yet so many beatings
Are reasoned as recompense—
What sense must be made of pain
To convince us the path of enlightened men
We must avoid
To stay in line.
Thus, submission over freedom
Is where true freedom stems.
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
Approaches sure and silent
Taking hold of the soul
for some its peace and for many violent
And it is ghastly
The body loses its vigor
its effect being immediate
being a sudden trigger
to the relinquishment of vitality
Men are born to die
Immortality is an unattained virtue
Life is a transitory period, sigh
the benefits of which we must pursue
It’s a strange thing, demise
a sort of an unwelcome guest
appearing as an unpleasant surprise
not understood by even the wise
People who live life in glory & fame
sometimes face its vengeance
which comes sudden & unexpected
while the half-dead continue their existence
Causing grief & pain
it picks out victims at random
all efforts at its prevention go in vain
it kills as it pleases
Death liberates
yet is undesirable
because it separates
from the world
It is felt but not seen
till those few moments
when mortal breathes his last breath
glimpsing at the pale face of death
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
Unfaithful marital transgressions
self admitted indictment,
crime and punishment,
no longer think high lee
entailing no mister re: demeanors,
I searingly weathered
(George by bushed, albeit thankfully,
no unwanted child left behind),
nonetheless one unforgettable
indelible, execrable, and abominable
professedly owned his
civil warring battle of life
transgressions undeservedly heaped
(Uriah hit about that)
(carnal feral hormonally seething
gone astray nightwalks)
woven by basket of deplorable
emotionally painful selfish object lesson
forever etched upon mine psyche
(left by one bobbing sponge -
cheeses crust station of his life
within sea of human life now
affixes moniker re: mister *****
inflicted courtesy yours truly
said marital indiscretion (philandering)
one among many issues discussed,
during treatment plan earlier today
February eighteenth 2020
concerning complex edifice
regarding mein kampf
existential bleak house
(figuratively crowded cheek to jowl)
with and hard times
fraught with many
unattained great expectations
unwittingly accepts psychological fallout
(among kissing kith and kin,
a shellfish chicken and hen thing for sure),
despite years elapsed ex post facto
deploying, incorporating, narrating, signifying...
narcissistic, opportunistic, and phlegmatic
self incriminating doom
visualize deus ex machina
betrayal rendered adopted smugness
invariably set in motion domino effect,
whereby emotional alienation
devastation, humiliation, maturation, suppuration
(yoking impossible mission
to shuck off penitence, the price to pay),
thus rightfully, truthfully, and veritably...
ably, readily, and willingly
allowing, enabling, and providing
incomplete resolution, (hence iresolution)
thwarting rancor thy deux daughters
(livingsocial many time zones distant)
embark quest to guide their own
metaphorical maiden voyaging ships of state
countless transpired hours
at counseling facility, where poetic papa
aired and mulled over bothersome
anguish to complete requisite treatment plan
to receive psychiatric appointment
next (and last) Tuesday of February 2020.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 10:43 PM UTC