"unburnt" poems
Lord, who hast suffer'd all for me,
My peace and pardon to procure,
The lighter cross I bear for Thee,
Help me with patience to endure.
The storm of loud repining hush;
I would in humble silence mourn;
Why should the unburnt, though burning bush,
Be angry as the crackling thorn?
Man should not faint at Thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face,
When the cursed thing that Achan took
Brought Israel into just disgrace.
Perhaps some golden wedge suppress'd,
Some secret sin offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.
Ah! were I buffeted all day,
Mock'd, crown'd with thorns and spit upon,
I yet should have no right to say,
My great distress is mine alone.
Let me not angrily declare
No pain was ever sharp like mine,
Nor murmur at the cross I bear,
But rather weep, remembering Thine.
2.3k
I would scorch the end of the cork
and score bags under my eyes
if the black of my tired spleen
was not already weighing
Like the luggage of the ******
packed in haste, always in haste
so that essentials are oft forgot
like health, or peace, or dignity
As it is, the cork stays unburnt,
but out of the bottle
as a gentle **** the lot of you.”
Oct 8, 2021
Oct 8, 2021 at 12:20 PM UTC
two tickets to barcelona sants
I told you I missed my flight
my bus broke down halfway into London and tonight
i'm crashing on someone's boyfriend's couch
it's a quarter to three and all I hear is
arctic monkeys inside a funeral hall
where I wore black lace like an unburnt witch
and resurrection like a diamond ring
and I feasted on the thought of how close I was to being whole again
because you thought I'd die without you
but life is more than just a memory of you
Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 3:43 PM UTC
White walls empty walls pure white
Such an infinite blank canvas
Enriched with expectation
Of all that may come to pass
White walls empty walls pure white
A life unlived a life unwritten
In the time of innocence
Before life's hurt has bitten
White walls empty walls pure white
A face unlined a heart unbroken
A heartbeat dancing with joy
The fatal lie still unspoken
White walls empty walls pure white
A hand untouched a hurt undefined
Everything left to play for
No need yet to hit rewind
White walls empty walls pure white
Fingers unburnt tempted by fire
Scorched seared and blackened
A soul emptied of desire
White walls empty walls pure white
A mind in prison a mind in chains
Lost without an exit sign
In a land where chaos reigns
White walls empty walls pure white
Boundaries of a life unloved
Scarred with the marks of torment
But those walls have never moved
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 8:26 AM UTC
seventeen shadows
sit around the edges of the room
seventeen faces darkened by their days
blighted by the imposed image
broken thought and collapsed reason
seventeen shadows
under threat of night
one steps forth and begins to utter
carved words from the bedrock of emotion
that they all share
sixteen heads nod in unison
agreeable to the notions
sixteen hands launch the labor
of bending the kings english to the love of words
rather than the devotion to ideal
twelve souls remain hours later
unburnt by time and efforts
sweat bathed they break the silence
pay homage to the daily grind
'unto Caesar what...'
so the twelve sit in attempted rational judgement
weigh the matter with deliberate care
but the carousel is running backwards now
and the man with the funny nose and oversized shoes
is the caretaker and caregiver
to the dead and dying ideals of democracy
five more of the shadows in the room slip to the door
and flee
five remain standing
testament to the resolve
of mans inability to reason
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
Slow stepping dance across the floor
You and I, my suit and tie
I'm in black, you in red
A dress, silky sound, brushes the ground
Gaze into a void so deep
Seemingly innocent, innocence evident
Or as I said, so it seems
Reflecting mine, but I saw no sign
The dance becomes jagged, the dance becomes rough
My suit is ruined, my shoes are scuffed
Your dress, you caress, as it bursts in flames
Unburnt, untouched, the fire you tame
I fall to my knees
You stand over me
On a ground unlevelled
I had my dance with the Devil
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
brokenhearted
but still you took
this rusty nail you call a heart
and slammed into my head
you said you would be a friend to my darkness
you said you would break bread with my rage
so heart beating faster
sweat breaking on brow
still your silent
still your liars book remains unburnt
still your liars house has life
while the twin razors of your eyes stare at me out
of my history
and out of my pain sweet pain
now when you finally did speak
you poured gasoline on my heads fire
and then you ran laughin
it wont be enough to watch a pack
of wild dogs pick your bones clean
their fur matted with your stain
it wont be enough to burn your house to the ground
i'm gonna break its bones in my teeth
i'm gonna eat your world whole
can you feel my teeth on your mind
i'm eating you alive from the inside of your skull
brokenhearted this rusty nail you call
a heart is covered in my innocent blood
your filthy lies dance laughing in my eye
my ***** burn to see your house destroyed
to see your filthy book burn
this rusty nail you call a heart
i'm gonna drive it like a jackhammer into your love
like gods eyes on the hand on the wicked
i'm gonna eat your world whole
break its bones with my teeth
with my darkness
with my rage
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
The pyre flamed w/
a blazing fire
investing the souls
of three spirits higher
A sacrifice worthy
of transforming the souls
to warm the Gods
with the comforting coals
Burned
A black magic priestess
the king of savages
his unborn son
the fetus w/ kings blood
The woman w/ white hair
the widow mother
the unburnt mourner
claims her reward
three lizard monsters
who trump 10,000 swords
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 3:10 PM UTC
I'm in love with a boy
Who makes me feel like fried chicken on a sunday
Like the Meat
That I don't eat
I'm an animal
I'm colossal
I'm the ballrooms in his eyes
I'm in love with a boy who makes me feel
Like pancakes on a weekday
We don't do that
In my family
We do grapefruit
cereal
oatmeal
We do not do orange juice
ever
I'm in love with a boy
Like honey in my tea
To take away the bitter
Take away the hunger
Amplify the wonder
And the way we grew together
All the tangles
All the thunder
All the things I never let you--
All the things I should have said to you
I'm in love with a boy
Who feels like sin in the morning
And sweet all the time
Like violence at night
And the freckles on his shoulders call me with words he'd never be able to find
Words that make me blind
The way he makes me feel is like the sun in my eyes
I'm in love with a boy like peaches in the summertime
And apples in the fall
He makes me feel like all the songs
I've never played
All the cobblers I should have baked
I'm my apron
I am taken
I'm the muffins that I baked him
I'm in love with a boy who makes me feel like candles on a birthday cake
Right after they hit the lights
And the sparkle
When the flames jump to the birthday girl's hair
And the scare
And the faces of the parents
All the horrified stares
I'm the 30 unburnt pieces, 45 guests
It's never enough
It's always too much
But I'm in love with this boy
He makes me feel
Like robbing a bank and making a clean get away
And worn out boots with no soles
From running hard and running fast
He makes me feel like guns
And a red hot sun
And the worst blisters of my life
Like fleeing in the night
and I'm your girl, right?
I'm in love with that boy like the first day he saw me
I'm in love with our mythology
and I want him to know
I'm still that girl
It's still that first day
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
***If I could only
move-
among the crowds
unnoticed;
Among the sounds
unheard;
Among the hate
unturned
and among the fire,
unburnt!
If I could only-
breath,
with no lungs in my chest;
If I could-
see the light
with no sight left;
If I could-
speak with my chords cut,
and when there’s no more
smiles around
if I could smile,
to show who am I!
When asked to kneel
if I could stand straight;
When asked to march
If I could break my legs;
When asked to speak
if I could forget the thoughts
they put in my head,
then I guess,
I would become a man!
A man,
that lives by itself,
that speaks for himself,
that cries and dies
only for himself!
Only for him, and no one else!
And that, my friends,
would be an easy life–
I think; I guess! ***
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
Convenience store where I stopped to buy poison gum *****
Here I am baptized in the light of the new genesis.
For new life sprang up on the oil rigs
In the industrial world,
We live in a future no one dared to comprehend.
We blew up the old world with new ideas,
We couldn't resist the urge to push the button any longer,
I sit under my bed
Duck and cover Cold War safety,
Safe from communist war criminals,
So when is the bomb going to drop?
No, I don't believe the Earth is going to be reborn as a paradise...
A land of altruistic Eden.
The lost garden is doomed to burn up in the sun,
As is the mausoleum for my memory.
Best guesses say we aren't exactly advanced,
But what if there's exceptions in our numbers?
What if we sat awake in our tombs for all of eternity
And your soul keeps locked
Waiting for the oblivion of the unburnt citizens separated from the material world,
How great were our ambitions if they didn't stretch to something after this course of existence...
Then what right do we owe the Catholic church that was not there at the beginning of our symphony.
I'll show you a great story of illuminated migrations and books about the lights of the pillars of creation,
When they tell me that Walt Whitman's work here is not done,
And so walked into the bathroom to lock the door,
Wash his face before yelling on both coasts of the American Empire.
Our Prime Minister has flawless memory and offers us codeine syrups of all flavors to vote for the Environment.
You'll have me yelling about the importance of taxation,
You can't have me acting like this if I've already bought us tickets to the art gallery...
And can you even now believe that toddler's first reaction was to destroy that giant biblical oil on canvas.
Maybe it was the violence,
And the same God who gave us our nuclear training wheels.
The same God who kills men of euphoria under meteors
And the same God whose name was in the air on Inauguration Day.
When I drove down the rode with you and your new ideas about where to go...
You had words I didn't know,
But we had Prince on the radio,
And that's something I know well.
I have a Wilco CD in my backpack,
I have every reason to just set my alarm
And pass out in the passenger's seat.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:07 PM UTC
and you’re eternal, darling
as long as my pen has ink
as long as my words still exist
as long as my papers fly freely, unburnt
as long as our tree lives
the one where we engraved our names
next to always and forever
you’ll stay steady, unfaltering
because this love is timeless
yours, mine, ours in perpetuity
until my voice turns hoarse
until my face gets wrinkles
even when i can’t recognize your sweet scent
or when your beauty is already blurry
or when your words don’t penetrate my ear
undying, never ending
all yours, darling, all yours
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 3:35 AM UTC
It's feeding time.
Put your favorite food on the stove,
But don't you stand beside and stir while there's lots left to do:
Like drying your eyes with the light of meaningless information
Like running laps between choices to make, never quite reaching any
Like watching herds of dust cats growing in every corner
Like ignoring texts
Like drifting away
Like feeling dead
or fearing you will be
or wishing you were
Like covering your skin's imperfections with pure red
Like decorating walls with scratches for every time you've ever:
inconvenienced someone slightly
thought ill of anyone or anything
made others worry
failed to take care of yourself
burned your food
Like...
Ding!
Now that you've taken your time with these routine steps, your meal should be ready.
You've done well. The charred bits serve as perfect fuel to the fire that consumes you.
The resulting smoke signals a message:
"You were right,
you truly are worthless.
Here's what's left,
only a few bites of what's unburnt.
You deserve nothing more"
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 10:27 AM UTC
Drag my fears to altar
Sacrificing sleep to make peace
With shadows dancing on the walls
Penance is a costly coin
I count sins like pennies in a jar
Plunking copper in vain
In a well that has not run dry
A well that knows nothing of my sins
No knowledge of my wishes
My temple is crumbling
Age has never met mercy
Time's cohorts know no pity
These pillars hold up shambles of a roof
Holding together is a dry hope for heavy skies
Will you lay with me
On the coolness of the stone
When the final hour awakens
Creeping in to steal the heat of your skin
Finding bashfulness looking upon the stars
This is the same sky
I see in the dark part of your eyes
I have longed for these constellations an eon and a half
Concrete in my reasoning
A stone knife on a stone table
The world is not as you know her
Or as she seems
Her spinning does not dizzy you
You crave stability
Do not leave footprints in the sand
This incense is unburnt in my lungs
Light me up once again
Can I unbreathe your memory
To unlearn threads
Unwound in my tapestries
I wait, unpatiently
For your silken voice to whisper
"Come to the light"
Promises whispered in the dark
Kept beneath the moon
Rafters of my temple an accord
The trembling of my foundation will not strike
You cannot move a stone mind
As all things are made
They can be undone
Your apologies sway them not
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 12:24 AM UTC
this manic song
of my feet with your feet
the quest for our names
our bodies without fence
my fingerprints like unburnt stories
on your skin
I have no alibi
you invented my desire
the whale-song of
my shoulder with your shoulder
I'm falling apart in your palms:
I invented your desire
and you have no excuse -
you hold down the night
for the next you, the new me
the unforeseen smile
at the end of the day
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 5:12 PM UTC
The tear emerged
Already falling
Down my face
Over my breast
And around my waist
An arm snaking
A cold, damp embrace
Welcomes the fall
The summer child saying goodbye
To her season.
Greeting a shadowed distance
As yet cold, and de-luminate
Fog and mists unburnt
the path invisible pour les yeuse
therefore, essential.
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 2:41 PM UTC
I wish you would stay awake tonight ,
But your Eyelids bear the burden of your past ,
And your Eyelashes are anchored to caskets heavy ,
With logs of unburnt memories ,
Logs fit for the pyre of your past ,
That you chose to maroon on uninhabited shores.
I wish you would stay awake tonight ,
And watch me burn myself at the pyres of your past ,
And keep you warm enough to outlive this winter,
And every winter destined to come ,
And dream of a tomorrow,
Unstained by the poison spilt last night.
I wish you would stay awake tonight ,
And let me gaze away at those stormy eyes ,
Which unlike mere spheres of crystal beads ,
Mirror the memories that lurk ,
Beneath a veil, well woven with lies ,
And spun out of strands of false felicity,
I wish you would stay awake tonight ,
And sing me a different song each hour ,
Till your song outlives the eternal force ,
That rolls the wayward wheel of time ,
I wish you would stay awake tonight,
But then , I know you won’t .
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
no echo here but silence tightly wound
upon the spindle of the rising year
has its effect on this our unburnt ground
where moths and spider in their turn appear
in pallid sheen with shadows most austere
our voices falter we do not belong
in place or time when memories are strong
ears are alert for the first human sound
for that one thing that we might hold most dear
explaining why the quiet is so profound
and why each heart must feel the touch of fear
before new day but nothing will come clear
the birds are sleeping this night will last long
cold hours must pass before we hear their song
there's no one present to teach or expound
those complex riddles about which we care
such folk of comfort are never around
when there's a nasty chill upon the air
or complications in the great affair
they simply vanish still if we prolong
our patient waiting dawn will strike the gong
some proper answer remains to be found
the process seeming almost cavalier
it being grasped and purposed on rebound
seeming to be the waste of a career
but those who cannot feel have yet to hear
the truth of where they are and we belong
in proper place to right all that went wrong
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
For you
I am walking on rocks
holding unburnt match sticks,
you want me to throw them
behind me.
To step down in lake
for washing sins
from the snuffed out
skylights.
Between green and blue I climb on leaves.
Remained pygmies
till end,
in frail human relationships.
All that we saw, was only for ourselves
in questions and replies.
Wasting shine of titles,
followed by empty looks.
Nothing remained to be said.
Food was left on the plate
untouched.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 11:29 PM UTC
How many mothers are aggrieved of themselves
Shattered by the heart of matters which they take part of the blame
No longer denying in their crying
That they too were made fools
Beggars yearning for a redo
To undo the terrible truths
Revealed and reviled
How many parents would stab their own heart
To undo the part they played
On any given horrendous day
And see the ones they lost
Returned
Unburnt
Unscathed
Unbathed in blood
By the horrors of the day
And whilst some cannot rewrite those dark nights
Perhaps they can pass on the lessons in wrongs
So other mothers can make this life right
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
Burn brighter than the fire around you
Take what is yours with fire and blood
Answer injustice with justice
You said he's a scurrilous?
Tell him, "The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands."
Scream " Dracarys" and succumb the world of sinisters with your fire.
You're Daenerys Stormborn, the unburnt, the refuser of Patriarchy.
So ask the world to bend their knee.
One who touches your loved one
Destroy him for the sake of your wine.
Get as bad as you can if it's about people who are your life
This world is no more of sword or blood, it's of strategies and vengeance.
Know that everyone who isn't you, is an enemy.
Tell them you're Cersei Lannister, the epitome of strength and power.
And in this "game of respect" you win or you die. There's no middle ground.
Learn to fight alone.
Be as swift as a deer and quiet as a shadow.
Quick as a snake and clam as still water.
Be confident of your skills.
Mark every man's name who once even thought of hurting you.
Recite them every night.
You're Arya Stark and you're a savage.
Ask them to **** every Arya from this world if they want to **** because
"Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe."
You've a long way to go
Today isn't the day you lose.
You shouldn't have teased this lil' princess
You made my skin turn to porcelain, to ivory, to steel
No one could have ever loved you the way I did.
I can even love and die for a monster.
But do not mistake my innocence as my weakness.
I am Sansa Stark and I am one the wolves and I can survive the coldest night better than you. You taught me how to.
I am a slow learner but I do learn.
Oh! I forgot to give the disclaimer.
Game of thrones fan would understand it better.
And if you're not a fan, that's not a matter.
It's all about throne, women and their power.
And this world is all about evils, women and their power.
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 5:47 AM UTC
on your left you'll see whats left behind
the unburnt lungs and unsound mind
on your right you'll spot a cliche scene
grovelling by the anthill's queen.
up ahead we're blocked by some debris
left in tact by king's decree
the driver's blind but this holds true:
the only way around is through.
so seatbelts on and hands in prayer
hope your God can get me there.
(a man jumps off the second floor
then crawls back through the roadside door
begging to be welcomed back
as if he never lead the pack.)
there's not one stranger in these seats
but swallowed by the hungry streets
do not inhale the asphalt breath
lest we're gifted our first death.
last stop is The Royal Us
you'll never leave this tour bus.
...this has been your tour guide
at least i can say that i tried.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC
Come, come you avian darlings
You hawks, gulls, wrens and turkey vulchers
Lo! I have a sacred place
Where mountains are made
From unburnt debris longing to be ashes
Come, come you airborne circlers
Wafting up on heat streams unseen
Your kin abide on Jealousy Lane
Thinking you are satisfied. All your needs met
Without having to scour the ground
Those careless human benefactors, wry and grizzly
Poking fun at the sight
Of so many black shadows
Flies in swarms
Gnats attacking the pitcher’s mound in August in the swamp
Bees. Caressing the Queen. Delicate, Loving, Caring
How can we not anthropomorphize the cackle,
They arise out of curiosity
And stay out of satiation
When do the bats revivify the seeds of waste?
Why are there no jackals?
Who built the fence?
That glorious victory mound
Miccosukee burial ground
Green seeded with local grasses
Humbled with railroad trances
We, your dancing gymnopedies
Bow down.
Constant motion
In your service
Thank the wasteful trash purveyors,
May the dump rise high!
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 4:35 AM UTC