"unbeknown" poems
Silently I cry hoping no one hears
Secretly caring for another in love's affairs
Experiencing love's worst of weapons
Heartbreak ominously beckons
Silently tears fall as I lie alone
On the bathroom floor unbeknown
For there are no more words, no more lies
Only a silent tear that never dries
Silently I cry with images of his face
Dimpled cheeks, his kiss and warm embrace
Hopelessness ensues for the way he held me tight
Remembering he's with her tonight
I lay in bed at night beside the one I'm bound
Holding my breath as tears compound
Feeling the love I once gave and then knew
All the while he's with someone new
Silently shedding tears as my life takes its toll
Killing my very essence, my mind, body and soul
Hearing the words, feeling the crippling pain
A lover's secret inevitably ends in vain
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
He was lonely, as was his heart, carver
Of wood, he searched upon forest &
Glade till before his eyes laid sight of a masterpiece,
Home he hurried
Carving,
Smoothing,
Varnishing
Not noticing or ignoring the black knot
But unbeknown, this was a deeper
Problem. Rotten, decayed black festered
Within not showing on the outside,
But things are missed in joy,
Things that will haunt, but he was finished
His boy of wood stood before
His so tearful eyes, your only wood
Only inanimate, sitting before my weeping eyes.
Heard where his whispers
Upon a night were they asked back,
"You are of sound heart"
"You are of compassion"
"You will have a son of wood with life in his heart"
As he looked upward,
A sight befell his reddened eyes
"FATHER"
Words fell forth unto his ears,
"Did you just speak??
"Father"
He hugged upon wood given life,
"Son"
"Son"
"A boy of my own given life"
"I love you son"
"I love you father"
His nose grew,
leaves sprouted forth,
"Aaghhhhh"
As Pinocchio snapped what grew forth,
And throw it upon the floor,
In pain he reeled,
"Son be calm"
For lies will be greeted by growth
Shall a lie be told, only good boys
And girls realise that honesty will be rewarded.
With that he cuddled his father, you know
Not love but I will show you unconditionally
Till you understand honesty also love,
Upon those words both bedded
For the night was late and father was old,
But he never slept, upon the floor
Part of him that broke off,
Now tainted black,
As it had succumb to its chosen fate,
As he fashioned upon tools
A living weapon,
"Blackest as night"
He felt connected
They were apart but one.
Into the bedroom he crept,
"Father"
"Father"
"Awaken"
Startled old eyes widen, I have a gift,
As he plunges it forth,
Son whhhhy I loveeee youuu
"I am but wooden given life"
"Blackness rots inside"
"It must feed"
For without it I will cease,
When I was just cold
It was my end no difference to any one.
And now given life
That is all that matters this night,
And with that he ****** into his
"Fathers heart"
He felt relief inside no more ties
But he cried splintered tears upon his
Blood they mixed upon the floor
He had extinguished his first life.
He needed to stem the flow as
He felt the veins rooting further
Life was his not easily given up,
The town fell silent that night,
As he fed well, he charred his
Finger tips black upon once so tanned,
So to feed with both knife and hand.
He would travel the world, death in his wake
All thought
"How unique"
"How harmless"
"How sweet"
But when the hunger craved,
Life was bled, life was ceased
All for the rot to not **** this wooden boy
"Rotten core in a boys shell"
Prey his nose does not grow just a little
Because your time in life will be up.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
I'm disconnected from the world
I don't want to see the people on this earth in a swirl
I'm disconnected from my phone
I don't take calls no more I'm unbeknown
I'm disconnected from my music
I just can't hear no more in this cubic
I'm disconnected from my sweet love
I feel like an old unfit glove
I'm disconnected from my home
I don't want to live here no more I want to roam
I'm disconnected from reality
What Is real and what is fake maybe it's my mentality
I'm disconnected from my mind
The demons took their time
I wish I was plugged in
So I can live again
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 8:52 AM UTC
The Raven Queen came from simple country roots
No royal silver spoon did she carry
Raised by unpretentious witches holding great wisdom
Old Gertrude, Esmeralda and Tregarry
Three witches known as spiritual leaders of the valley
Of lowly peasants and abundant woods
Raised her up simply infused with a fiery spirit
Proclaiming the law of the land to be good
Two faces reigned within the leaders and peasants
One which was shown to The Law
The other kept hidden as they lowly bowed to the wind
Praising the moon and icy snow as it thawed
A tale of hidden woe these three leaders carried
Unbeknown to the Raven Queen
Of her true heritage and the tainted gold they kept
From the night Old Death intervened
Old Death quietly crept in on her birthing night
Stole her sweet mother away
Yet for a fee the wise leaders took her in to love
Knowing who she would be one day
An eager student their young queen became
Learning the wisdom of the truth
Quite an apprentice in the ways of the wind
She became early in her youth
All at once the fiercest Winter ever known to the valley
Brought in terrible winds and bitter snow
The young queen watched as the peasants trembled
As savage wolves entered their fold
Great hunger came to the valley along with Old Death
Dissension was called into play
Soon, each of the leaders knew the time had come
To teach her the dark side of their ways
She was pulled from light into the darkest shadows
To embrace her own true destiny
Her dark light shone through the woods and the valley
Bringing the savage wolves to bay
Fear of the Raven Queen’s light spread from the valley
Coursing through the veins of The Law
Sending in fierce horsemen thundering with vengeance
Her own lifeblood they came to draw
She answered their thundering with her own call
Heads for heads, raging fire with ice
Saving the ones who took her under their wings
Returning their tainted gold at a price
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 1:58 PM UTC
Seldom doth man stop and stare
At the caste iron manhole cover there,
Seldom doth he analyze
The majesty, which beneath it lies.
The pipe work systems vast and long
Dark catacombs so precise and strong,
Buried deep beneath our feet
Extending forth from street to street,
Out across the breadth of town
Those secret fluids trickle down.
Laser levels carve the pathway
Through the walls of solid stone,
Shovels scrape and dig with effort
Forging hard trajectories home.
Digging, digging metal mountains
Sweat cascades upon the brow,
We lay the pipes in straight formation
Precision's satisfaction now.
An Artisan's great work is hidden
Lost beneath the earth's grey stone,
Appreciation camouflaged in that,
The cast iron manhole stands alone.
Magnificence unrealized
For deep beneath your feet,
A subterranean Michelangelo's
Sisteen Chapel, lays discreet.
Unsuspected rivers
Flowing darkly to the sea
In caverns of unwanted waste
Quite unbeknown to thee.
Vaulting brickwork chambers
Which are ancient works of art,
Carry oceans of excretement
Far from where their journey's start.
With thunder's crash and lightning flash
And torrents of cold rain,
The road's awash and gutters flow
Through roadside grates to drain.
Gushing torrents cascade down
In waves of flowing might
To the storm water system
Which promptly swallows it from sight.
Magic, you say ?
Nay, nay I say unto you
That the drain layers artistry
Is unappreciated, that's true !
That the Herculean effort wrought
In winning his great fights
Is largely lost to all and sundry
Who avoid construction sites.
They miss the planning and the layout
And meticulousness too
And the rubber seals which stop the leaks
Which really bother you.
The massive holes and danger
Of being buried in collapse
And the wondrous satisfaction
Of achieving downhill flows... Perhaps!
Marshalg
Apprentice drain layer
MHX Beachcroft site and Eastport
19 September 2009
Jan 22, 2010
Jan 22, 2010 at 3:08 PM UTC
Accept my pity, ye tormented souls unable to raise and dazzle
all I did was earn my keep and walked in sunshine from the soul
but
When men are full of envy they disparage everything,
whether it be good or bad.
Now I know some minds never grow and thrive only in envy
For Envy, like the worm, never runs but to the fairest fruit;
like a cunning bloodhound, it singles out the fattest deer in the flock.
These wretched starved toxic souls, only see a man with plenty
The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous.
I did not countenance that faces are pale because they lacked
just thought that was the Creator's work on days when brown
and yellow, swarty, ivory and tan paints ran out
I knew a lot hated this insipid opaque pale colouring, but at least
they have beautiful hair and lucky ones have pearly white teeth
but unbeknown to me, real envy resides in them and blinds them and makes it impossible for them to think clearly.
Oh dearie me, our pale brothers and sisters die inside their souls
And age so quickly, radiant in bloom one day, grey and wrinkled
in the morrow like a wilted rose devoid of water and light
Their pain and envy, their self-loathing, their insecurities ravages
Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks, dear friends.
For you see, God's truth judges created things out of love,
and Satan's truth judges them out of envy and hatred.
Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those we envy.
If malice or envy were tangible and had a shape,
it would be the shape of a boomerang.
I fear not and now understand why you envy and hate me
I can appreciate the bile and venom for Fools may our scorn,
not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise.
Worth begets in base minds, envy; in great souls, emulation.
When people envy someone else, they want what that person possesses. As time passes, they develop hostile feelings towards that person, and eventually begin to hate that person because of their possessions and the unrequited desire to obtain those possessions.
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 8:53 PM UTC
come fly with me;
remind me of my own mortality
that child dreaming of
the adult waning:
a depth inside with many questions
unanswered
sleeping rainbows
are colourful bedfellows
open arms with empty words
are these your welcome smiles
unbeknown to me
chase the feelings that disappear
like raindrops that ebb moisture
on a warm day
Where are you now?
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 9:56 AM UTC
I looked out from a heart that hoped and saw a precious jewel
Unafraid of my gleaming leaves or the way I speak
With a heart unselfish and never cruel
Shining as in a dream
A light to seek
The air sprouted new leaves as time and space stood still
Touching these gleaming leaves of my own
What a heavenly gesture I could feel
Radiating from this jewel
Unbeknown
Clearly, in my sight, my pulse quickened at the view
As these leaves kissed my gleaming green
Such treasure I found in a jewel
When I looked out in hope
Unforeseen
Never again will I see my world the same as before
Because I saw a precious jewel
With air my leaves adore
A heart unselfish
Never cruel
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 7:59 AM UTC
There is a cat at my window
I am still
ragdoll in its flooded mouth
arsonist in one sulfur eye
night in a silhouette
shadow without philosophy
syllable of jungle chill
be it alms seeker
spy
or courier
or smoke as a pirouette
all icicle and satin
black iris I see
blood beating its binary
pulsating lodestone
hanging from its ley line
like the lamp of an angler
when the sun is furthermost
and all gods are unbeknown
I am still
still
the cat sits at my window sill
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 4:58 PM UTC
Bredon Hill
by A. E. Houseman
In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.
Here of a Sunday morning
My love and I would lie,
And see the coloured counties,
And here the larks so high
About us in the sky.
The bells would ring to call her
In valleys miles away;
'Come all to church, good people;
Good people come and pray.'
But here my love would stay.
And I would turn and answer
Among the springing thyme,
'Oh peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church on time.'
But when the snows at Christmas
On Bredon top were strown,
My love rose up so early
And stole out unbeknown
And went to church alone.
They tolled the one bell only,
Groom there was none to see,
The mourners followed after,
And so to church went she,
And would not wait for me.
The bells they sound on Bredon,
And still the steeples hum,
'Come all to church, good people'--
Oh, noisy bells be dumb;
I hear you, I will come.
2k
Sweet warmth rains down after the dew of first light
Here with you, I am silently alone
The love which guided us all through our night
Allowed our sun to arrive
Quietly, unbeknown
Flickers of tenderness mesh with the drying of dew
On a story that is ending to soon
Yet, I smile in the knowing, again, I will hold you
Tonight, under the face
Of our moon
I slip softly to our window to drink in the rays
Feel your presence, next to my own
We smile in the sweet warmth felt in a new day
Yet cannot wait, for this light
To be gone
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 6:41 AM UTC
The steps to the museum are many ,
Won’t you help me up the stairs ?
There’s a program with every item ,
every ***** of me .
Up the steps through the open door ,
how many rooms are here ?
Now a chair stands all alone with no pictures on the wall ,
In the middle of a room ,
my heart lies behind that glass ,
a Spector ,
a ghost behind a wall .
Won’t you see how this blood runs from traitors gate ,
with
bread that’s long gone stale,
for judgement falls and my axe draws nigh ,
from deaths daughter must I fly ,
her lips are near ,
her crimson touch
not that I should dwell ,
Never a traitor ,
nor a Herotic
not i ,
Should ever be ?
If my head said yes and my heart said no then is there a life for me ?
What foolish thoughts my mind portraid
that were my very own ,
a complex web unbeknown could that stranger now be ?
The words are so beautiful and their truth no heart can see ,
and yet my heart with holy spirits and angels with keys surrounded me .
How my dreams go back to that same old place how sweet the’re
sorrows tell ,
of fields of bluebells and butterflies,
and all will be well .
I walk into the sun ,
then the sun hides behind a cloud and my world goes dim ,
no Light my heart has fled to a thousand differant things .
Here I sit ,
My heart on display
a traitor a heretic ? ask my heart not me .
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
Unbeknown to her, she was the other daughter.
The clairvoyant said she was born of water.
*“Your beauty is your saving grace,
for so admired is your cherub-face.”
“My dear child, hold my hand close to you,
& see here, a young girl; veiled in black.
Worshipping the moon, beside a wolf pack.”
“For you, are celebrating a Lunar New Year,
requesting the spirits, my dear
beholding the Universe in the palm
of your hands. In the shadows, a silhouette
is walking towards you; a woman of a quintet.”
"You hear the piercing tone of a shawm,
a choir of voices & women barefooted
whose anklets ****** as a ritual dance
begins. But you stay. A statuette in stance."*
© Sia Jane
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
I saw a boy who was sitting alone.
Tears flowing like the river of Rhone
I went over, his sadness to me unbeknown,
He looked up muttering, "why do they not condone?
I am a normal person, just like you.
Born in the image of God, from my mothers womb too,
Two eyes, a nose, skin of the same hue.
So why to them am I the stomach flu?
They hate me, they want me gone,
Ha, as if I'm not already withdrawn.
They say I'm not normal, I'm sinful and so on,
But I don't listen, I just press on.
You see, this I never became,
Yet I am the target of their aim.
How can I be so different by loving the same?
God made me this way, so why am I the blame?
All I give is love, yet all I receive is shame."
I gave the boy a hug and said, "Don't accept blame, and don't feel shame. Embrace your name."
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
For her sundered from space and time
at the dawn of phenomenon,
not the little pettinesses of our world:
and
a portal to the unknown beyond -
the sky flaming red at dusk,
still in the lake the late summer hill
little a bloom in the bush hidden,
even shy a smile devoid of guile,
little every joy here;
Thought they,
faint of heart she was:
but every swoon carried her across
the world of the river of lights
In Her presence dawned on this
forlorn our earth -
Beauty since the beginning of time
exuberant in the hills
in the plumes and vales
and in the cruel hearts of men;
And grandeur, of the kind
unbeknown before, as the king
her father sewed up an empire vast;
And perfection in works
unknown before -
in every weave and hew;
All that men ascribed to her
father the great.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 5:37 PM UTC
A physician to me is what thou art
yet all of this is unbeknown to thee,
and if to prove all true where should I start
in truth to pay such an exquisite fee.
For upon none I call to intercede
for succour to cure such a sweet sick state
for no physician's counsel do I heed
as Eros stands by and scoffs at mine fate.
O, but to be with thee for just one hour
would ease mine fever'd brow and calm mine mind
for being in thy presence thou hast such pow'r
but when apart a paradox to find ⎯
it seems mine fate perforce I must endure
finding in thee my sickness and my cure.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
I cast my hat, into the ring
so full of fearful doubt
expecting you, to pick it up
and simply toss it out
But unbeknown to me
hidden there behind your eyes
was a secret hope and longing
that it might just be your size
So casually you picked it up
and looked it up and down
I was expecting any minute
'pon your face to see a frown
You brushed it off so thoroughly
cleaned every little bit
closed your eyes then put it on
and smiled as it fit
Almost instinctively you opened them
and were looking right at me
My surprise and expectation
must have been plain for all to see
You casually walked over
and whispered in my ear
"but its always been you silly,
now lets get out of here"
And so my friends thats how it was
that I came to lose my hat
and why you see me grinning now
like a hatless Cheshire cat.
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 6:48 PM UTC
Herein lies the cycle of this existence. Replete with everyday banalities - placid and meaningless - the menials of survival give away almost suddenly, and I find myself plunged into the depths of an unperturbed silence... where a voice within resounds the Om. A rage drives me to divest all falsifications.. those sensuous pleasures and miserable burdens, insecurities and frustrations.. and all that exists/acts in a true sense of transience. I feel calm again - cleansed and breathless on the shores of this Reality. But alas!, the Silence fades.. slowly and steadily the noises of the world begin to seep in, like the first rays of sunshine after a long wintrous slumber.
Crests and troughs, this life of mine. A reckless indifference grips my heart; I exist, unbeknown of whether I am a benign Observer or the perverse Experiment, or evenly both.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
I'm going back to the crossroads
This being the second time for a first time
And a first time truly participating in this day
Many times in those years gone and gone by
This has been a sad, forlorn day
Or it could have been the fact
That all of this confused me
I did not understand all that they felt
And why they felt and acted in their fashion
But now I have one of my own
I am beginning that learning curve
To understand what it all stands for
Two firsts in one day makes my head spin
And causes my stomach to reel
I am ready for it
I just don't now it yet
I'm going back to the crossroads
Even facing infinite objections from myself
I have to prove to the world that I can go...
No. Change that.
I have to prove it to myself.
I always enjoy a good challenge
But for reasons unbeknown to me
I have fought as valiantly as any gladiator
To avoid any sort of interaction
Such as the one I am about to embark upon
For no one else but me
And maybe for her as well
I head back that way
As I go down to the crossroads
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 8:51 PM UTC
You don't look a day older than bad manners
Remember to let people off the Train first.
Old fashion common sense has gone,
we are generating our everyday Cleopatra
where the private is as imperative as the public persona ,
unbeknown nail polish is on a reconnaissance mission
for blase solvent effects,
and as for Gentleman I cannot think of a
suitable Mass observation survey yet,
but if i did,
there wouldn't be enough Stradivarius volins to avail.
Note too how bus drivers aren't generally slow
and bicyclists are veering militant
driving instructors take chances through the red lights,
city life is
not necessarily construed as a public safety issue,
but everything is considered less relevant
in the pursuit of balanced manners.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 3:57 PM UTC
witnesses came again,
reminding the words are there,
black and white, the finger writ,
he said, in the beginning it was so.
then having spake moved on, with
language unbeknown. how did
they let it happen, the flood, how
did the house surrender. a holy
place. a place of conversation, stuff
of the age, no empire building here.
there was scarambled egg, and a cabinet
pudding waiting.
sbm.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Mesmerizing eyes anchor me to your soul
I loose myself in those translucent depths
I wonder if your lips were made for me
I wonder if your heart beats for me
When gently on your chest I lay my hand
I hear your heartbeat restrained
Thumping loudly, visibly tensed
Sensing if I'll ever guess
Strangers to unbeknown eyes
Your gaze I've held
How I would want to pretend
But you've deeply affected my rest
Words form freely, in the minds unrest
Silence seals my lips before my story unfolds
Scarcely breathing, surviving, the truth untold
Stranger I am to my own world
I don't want to be a stranger to this feeling
I don't want to be just a keeling
Never want to let you go, hold you to myself.
Bury myself in the depth of your vortex
You'll never understand
The reason of my restraint
Undelivered words and messages unsent
Hiding visibly in broad daylight
When your sweet voice I want to hear daily
The antithesis of my story is laughable
The dissonance of my utterances and intent
Perplexed and fraught between
To be or not to be
My struggle, my dichotomy
Paradoxical my situation
Fake my appearances seem
Inside I am dying my love
Dying for a simple truth from you!
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 3:12 AM UTC
The words are bleeding out, and pooling into stagnant solace.
The drive-less inhibitions of roads ends, losing me in the after thoughts of my reflections now lost to oblivion.
The stillness is heavy.
Devoid of imagination, and wonder, i am null in the nothing.
Devoid of the spark that turned to fire, i am aware of nothing.
Focusing on nothing unfurling in the darkest of hours, accepting the timelessness, of my limited consciousness, drifting outside of self, through the fruitless branches of my destination unbeknown to me.
All roads leading into themselves.
The means, justifying the ends, as my eyes only but close in settled closure.
I am closer to god in knowing.
In knowing nothing within this dreamless sleep that i keep to myself.
The low humming encapsulating the causeless cyphers of thine own obscurity.
Blurred.
Wordless.
My words are worthless, as they collapse into non-existence, and erupt upon the other side in a foray of images unseen by unlooking ears that peered into the sounds of sights heard, but only once.
Written, but only once.
Forgotten, but only once.
The sun shone but once, and the grass grew over the sidewalk.
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 12:21 AM UTC
Light headed, wandering unknown
through a world that has grown
molded around new hearts
and intuitions.
Floating above an era towards something more
spirits soar, becoming lost in a
universe.
In a world so perverse, becoming crystallized forever
Within its own coffin of abstract love these machines
march synchronized. Following a manual preset
to live out tired lives.
Each detail, each texture lit upon a soft petal
is ignored. The eyes of children are no longer innocent.
Who knows more of the world than anyone will know?
Yet determined of self-destruction we **** our pathos
We dissolve into a world unbeknown to its fate.
Then let us perish together at once
And feed upon the greed and hatred of those once noble men.
Let us suckle at the breast of ignorance and fan the flames of madness.
In that must we find solace
And within our own fortress seek our own version of purity.
Submit to the will of what we cannot control
And in the end smile because we are finally
Free.
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 10:26 AM UTC