"unconquered" poems
He is a link between this and the coming world.
He is
A pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.
He is a tree watered by the River of Beauty, bearing
Fruit which the hungry heart craves;
He is a nightingale, soothing the depressed
Spirit with his beautiful melodies;
He is a white cloud appearing over the horizon,
Ascending and growing until it fills the face of the sky.
Then it falls on the flows in the field of Life,
Opening their petals to admit the light.
He is an angel, send by the goddess to
Preach the Deity's gospel;
He is a brilliant lamp, unconquered by darkness
And inextinguishable by the wind. It is filled with
Oil by Istar of Love, and lighted by Apollon of Music.
He is a solitary figure, robed in simplicity and
Kindness; He sits upon the lap of Nature to draw his
Inspiration, and stays up in the silence of the night,
Awaiting the descending of the spirit.
He is a sower who sows the seeds of his heart in the
Prairies of affection, and humanity reaps the
Harvest for her nourishment.
This is the poet -- whom the people ignore in this life,
And who is recognized only when he bids the earthly
World farewell and returns to his arbor in heaven.
This is the poet -- who asks naught of
Humanity but a smile.
This is the poet -- whose spirit ascends and
Fills the firmament with beautiful sayings;
Yet the people deny themselves his radiance.
Until when shall the people remain asleep?
Until when shall they continue to glorify those
Who attain greatness by moments of advantage?
How long shall they ignore those who enable
Them to see the beauty of their spirit,
Symbol of peace and love?
Until when shall human beings honor the dead
And forget the living, who spend their lives
Encircled in misery, and who consume themselves
Like burning candles to illuminate the way
For the ignorant and lead them into the path of light?
Poet, you are the life of this life, and you have
Triumphed over the ages of despite their severity.
Poet, you will one day rule the hearts, and
Therefore, your kingdom has no ending.
Poet, examine your crown of thorns; you will
Find concealed in it a budding wreath of laurel.
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Another night staring skyward where
Every creaking shift fills the world
And the ink-black sky's toothless maw,
Shocks and aftershocks of sound
Where a moment's discomfort swells
To a frenzied crescendo, incessant,
Pressing against skin from within
Until a saint's patience would break
Like lips parting for a stifled sigh.
Midnight falters and fades to dawn,
Surrenders to the unconquered sun
Who, grinning wide as the horizon,
Watches the twisting, turning world
Tear away from night's dreamless womb
Sleepless, stumbling away in a daze.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC
In the dour ages
Of drafty cells and draftier castles,
Of dragons breathing without the frame of fables,
Saint and king unfisted obstruction's knuckles
By no miracle or majestic means,
But by such abuses
As smack of spite and the overscrupulous
Twisting of thumbscrews: one soul tied in sinews,
One white horse drowned, and all the unconquered pinnacles
Of God's city and Babylon's
Must wait, while here Suso's
Hand hones his tack and needles,
Scouraging to sores his own red sluices
For the relish of heaven, relentless, dousing with prickles
Of horsehair and lice his ***** *****
While there irate Cyrus
Squanders a summer and the brawn of his heroes
To rebuke the horse-swallowing River Gyndes:
He split it into three hundred and sixty trickles
A girl could wade without wetting her shins.
Still, latter-day sages,
Smiling at this behavior, subjugating their enemies
Neatly, nicely, by disbelief or bridges,
Never grip, as the grandsires did, that devil who chuckles
From grain of the marrow and the river-bed grains.
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the day is at its end
the towers and domes in the city
are a lonely sight...abandoned,
all closed.........all hushed up
the gnomes of the day are mostly gone...
beware...the gnomes of the night
have just woken and are now energized...
raring to prowl the dark halls and corridors
out to the unlit alleys, backstreets and corners
cloaked by towering shadows
all set to play havoc to unknowing passers-by...
in the dark where all restraints are set free
where unconquered demons
take center stage...
in the dark,
where the dead gets to live again...
in the dark, where anything goes, unnoticed...
in the shadows, where
the dark sky is the limit....
until the first shafts of light come in...
when once again, all secrets
seek refuge in their hiding places
---------the dark takes a rest---------
---------as a new day unfolds--------
Sally
Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
To be as you were
To live as you flew
To know the heavens as you do
I'd risk the fall
I'd fare the flight
And meet the ground
Burnt, bathed in light
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 2:12 PM UTC
high over clear-washed stone, faint whispering,
the moon-bright tide cascades, the wild sea rose
has blossomed, nodding where the salt wave flows,
the wide unconquered brines great murmuring.
storm rock, night air, the white foam glistening
on wandering sand, the night's rich harvest grows
as passive as a flower, the sea-breeze blows
above the glassy ocean's thundering.
our love as free as this the windswept wave,
its rhythmic sigh, here in your arms i seek
a treasury of love, exotic gems,
before the folding tide, the current's slave.
the stronghold falls, the sleeping waters speak
of soft goodbyes and watery diadems.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
Wind swept
Wild places the grass it puts on a veritable orchestra of movement as it undulates to the power of the breeze that passes
Mountain meadows splashed with a profusion of flowers they jiggle as if there tickled about something or other
The crest of the hill bordered with trees sloping down the hill children are running reminiscent of Jack and Jill
This utopia of nature sets aside the hurly burly the curvature of the hills still the wind hold the sun just right you it invites
Cross these pasture lands the feeding ground of many cattle and sheep the pride of the farmer who keeps
Inexorably bound by breed and creed for centuries this way of life flourishes among these native grasses
Tender shoots these roots give of their riches the sun and rain gives them a time to reign with joy all reaps
Pleasure in the walk letting fingers glide over the heads of tall grasses the silent telling of harmony filled poise
Future generations will be brought to these shadowed grounds they too will by their lives express and know contentment
Hourly they hold in sod that has known the breath of time as it has passed time and time again it enlivens breaks fourth
Sturdy and resplendent it shows all its dependability the same respect settlers knew is found the builders of this continent
Long shadows grow upon earths shoulders she knows the good and the bad but through resilience remains unconquered
The distant mountain stands eternal guard, it affects rainfall, mutes the winds force guarantying a peaceful valley
Perpetuity is taught in this land tomorrows unfold from days gone by with regularity they build and keep the way open
Stewardship the blessed hope working in harmony with all that surrounds at days end this will be the final sum and tally
The herdsman knows the time he invests it well always with broad vision does he act in this wisdom all will be victorious
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 8:45 PM UTC
Upon the arboreal dozed and limb,
Extended coccyx serpentine loose,
Throne of inspection, tenet and dumb
Stillness hunts akin stealthy Mongoose;
Except for the natal locomotive
Soft deep sufficiently immense purr
Emanating from some industry; effective
In the cover of the thick supple fur.
The lord of his unconquered empire,
Thrives on flesh and quenches on milk,
Wintering unperturbed reading the fire
That flickers, gleaming his bed of silk.
Ever landing on appendage quadruple
Acrobatic athlete not soiling once his back
Consummating in strict concealment marble
Couch of perpetual indulgence buried black.
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 5:35 AM UTC
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the George Washingtons
of my generation.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the Thomas Jeffersons
and the
Benjamin Franklins who
aren't afraid to dream of
words that haven't been
created
and things that have
yet to be
designed.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the
Revolutionaries who
have yet to be
born.
For the Paul Reveres
who have yet
to take their midnight
rides
one if by land,
two if by sea.
one if by land,
two if by sea.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the
modern day
Lewis and Clarks who
explored a land beyond
exploration's eye.
For the Sacagawea guides that
guide from a shining sea
to a sea of gold.
For the immigrants who
traversed waters of salty tears
made solely of their own fears.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the slaves held captive
not by their captors,
but by their own fears,
hopes,
desires
and dreams.
Afraid to pursue a land
just slightly beyond their own
R e a c h.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the conductors of the railroad
that was unseen.
The one that ran not on
coal and steam,
but the one that
ran on
Dreams.
I wanta write a poem for the ages,
for the Teddy Roosevelt
conservationists
and the Stravinsky
concert pianists
and the Maya Angelou
performers,
and the,
people.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the soldiers battling
for a cause they didn't
even start.
For the lives that gave their
lives for a cause,
because they believed in
The cause.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the Daddy who's still
looking for work,
For the Mommy who has
given up
Hope.
For the widow and
her orphan,
For the soup kitchens
that can't
stay open long enough.
For the failing
Economy.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the mustached
man in Germany
rising to a power
ever Grand.
For the nations willing to
ignore it if they can.
For the day that everything
changed.
December 7th, 1941
will forever live
in infamy.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the unconquered Jews who
fought back.
For Anne Frank and her
family.
I wanta write a poem for the ages
For the modern day
Martin Luther King
Jr.'s.
For the ones
who
Aren't afraid to challenge a
System designed to
fight against them.
For the
modern day
Claudette Colvins.
The ones who
aren't afraid to sit down
to make a stand.
I wanta write poem for the ages
For the modern day
Buzz Aldrins
who are
altogether underrated
Just
because they came in
Second.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.
A poem that speaks louder
than words
and goes beyond
generations.
So I wrote a poem for the ages.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 2:06 AM UTC
Upon the arboreal dozed and limb,
Extended coccyx serpentine loose,
Throne of inspection, tenet and dumb
Stillness hunts akin stealthy Mongoose;
Except for the natal locomotive
Soft deep sufficiently immense purr
Emanating from some industry; effective
In the cover of the thick supple fur.
The lord of his unconquered empire,
Thrives on flesh and quenches on milk,
Wintering unperturbed reading the fire
That flickers, gleaming his bed of silk.
Ever landing on appendage quadruple
Acrobatic athlete not soiling once his back
Consummating in strict concealment marble
Couch of perpetual indulgence buried black
Feb 13, 2012
Feb 13, 2012 at 6:46 AM UTC
Deserted dry land
Bodering the princely state
There once lived
A king unconquered till date
Never did he surrendered his will
The glance at the beauty clear as milk
Diamond eyes and smile as fresh as spring
Heart slipped wrapped up in royal silk
pincess Hadi, greeted his love
Together bonded forever in bliss until,the bells of danger started to ring
And it was time for a good bye kiss
Duty or love he had to weigh
Said to her, he might rather stay
Bold Queen Radi had rajput blood
Convinced her husband to serve nation first
Reluctant he, agreed to the terms
Asking for a love token to take
Radi the queen surprised him when
Served him, her beheaded head
So that nothing could come between him and the nation at stake
Manisha
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
To the warmth of life
And passing through with grace
Of a woman in hand under veil,
Lavished in her unconquered beauty,
Enamored with her saving grace
Amid the elation of first kiss,
Under the spell of first eternity.
And through the veils of silence
When the swarm of sounds of
Making love have devoured the hours
And he stares into fertile eyes,
The truth of his belief in them,
And the prelude to forever's nest,
The dove returns upon white unifications.
But soon the dove will deny the embrace,
And the cold lonesome dove
Will be forgotten in the skies blue,
The touch of ****** prowess ,
The soft moist of lips that convened
A destiny of adornment with kisses
So deep and meaningful that it vibrates
Through times like a phantom flame
From forever's fire,
The bitter flight of the dove with passion
To ravage her body,
Upon the return open does the veil.
Before passion abandons,
Let them return home to nest
The kisses from that eternal night,
That journey for the taste your
Of your sanguinary fruit
Provoking the eternal flight.
Before her lips close at the dove's
Return, lift the veil of forever
On the romantical threshold,
The death and purity,
The light and the venom,
What white veils may hide.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 2:09 PM UTC
Undiscovered
Unconquered
and untampered with
Pure as the snow on the highest caps
No worries
no drama
no situation
no problems that she can call her own
Ducking and dodging the vultures
that can smell her innocence
Wanting to be the first to claim
She moves on knowing her worth
and will not settle for less
They yell after her with no respect
but she does not mind she don't have the time
or patience for such vulgarity
Now 18 with her virtue safe and sound
She has things to do
life to conquer
Out on her own a sheltered child
she face the big world with dreams and ambition
Not knowing about the wolves in sheep clothing
that she will meet along the way
She meet a man who befriended her
made her feel safe in this crazy world
Took her in, in a city where she knew no one
Took care of her bought her everything
she ever needed or wanted
Her whole life was this man
her savior in her eyes, the love of her life
She made a decision to giver her one true gift to him
and that was her virginity
The day of the gift giving she set everything up
so it would be special
Told him that she had a surprise for him
but what she didn't know he had a surprise waiting for her
It started off as planned but then his whole demeanor altered
to a man she didn't know
He got rough with her
Hitting and chocking her
Before she knew it 3 men appeared
before her like they were on stand by
A night she would always remember
they ravashed and spoiled her
used her like a wet rag
A night of pain and humiliation
With film to capture this horrible moment
The man she loved and believed in
turned out to be a snake/a monster
He started controlling her every move
said she had to pay him back
for everything he ever did for her
He tricked her out to hundreds of men
Threatened to **** her if she ever left
With no hope for a better life
She turned to drugs to dull the pain and anguish
Now an abused prositute crack *****
Abused in every form she thinks the only way out
is in the form of death
After 4 years of heartache and misery she finally had enough
She made the decision to give the last special gift, her life
The day of the gift giving she set everything up so it would be special
She wrote her last words and went to sleep
He found her the next morning in the tub surrounded by burnt down candles
Od'd on her drug of choice
with both wrist slit
She wanted to be sure
He read her final goodbyes
With her life in his hands the monster spiraled out of controlled
it haunted him til he couldnt take it no more
and ended his torment in a cloud of gunsmoke
QNA
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 11:05 AM UTC
The mountain sat impassively, daring
Asking no questions
Just waiting for the moment
The slip of unconquered glory
Death, or worse, permanent injury
You took my legs old friend
I hold no malice
Probably love you more
I’ll be getting my new ones soon
Walking in no time they say
But walking is no good to people like us
It’s the intimacy
We are one
I promise to be gentle
If I make it, I won’t gloat
If not, we stay friends forever.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
This is the highway of fallen kings.
The place where pharaohs go to rest.
The dungeon where crowns are thrown,
Because they no longer have value.
They mean nothing.
Everything you touch becomes nothing and,
Even the strongest fall under your scrutiny.
This is the wasteland of dreams.
The place where hopes go to rest.
For nothing conquers your unconquered heart.
Nothing will florish under your glory.
Every territory is under your dominance.
playing with my heart
toying with my mind and
Evidently pulling hard,
Ripping at my heart strings
I guess the mighty *****
Isn't so mighty.
This is the epiphany of heartbreak.
The sudden realization that...
Pharaohs will fall.
Crowns will also fall.
Dreams are sometimes nightmares.
One can only hope.
Superiors remain supreme.
And of course...
The weak is forever at your disposal..
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
Why Angels fall
Awakened by an eerie dream
Of weary angels with tattered wings
Their song was woeful and it broke my heart
I asked them if they knew the part
where I alone lived through hell
The angel closest to me sighed,
and then began to yell
“Dear child don’t be selfish! life’s not always about you.”
“You think we left you all alone; yet this simply is not true.”
Another spoke much quieter, she said,
“I beg your pardon,”
“You’ve had the best protecting you,
Hand plucked, from heavens garden.”
My response was if that is true then please explain,
how each of them were able
The youngest one emerged just then
from underneath my table,
He was a child of maybe ten
I wondered how he died,
With tears falling from his eyes he whispered
“we have tried,”
Timidly he approached me,
a tarnished halo on his head
Then nearly imperceptibly, the youngest angel said,
“We were beaten quite extensively,
and for a long, long time”
“Our wings you see are tattered now;
and we need our wings to fly,
It’s hard to sit and listen to all that they’d endured
I realized right then how badly my vision was obscured.
An older angel shuffled towards me,
with no wings at all
I can’t express how bad it feels
to have made these angels fall.
while looking deep into my soul, he struggled to convey
“The demons were a burden, sure
though they’re all gone today.”
“ Sadly, the only one unconquered,
your worst nemesis, is you,”
We’ve come bearing hope, perhaps that you‘d know what to do
To slay the beast you’re on your own;
I heard them loud and clear
“I’m sorry,”
I said loudly, to be sure they each could hear
The beast in there’s enormous
and nastier than me
I promised them I’d do my best,
though surely they could see
That I was no contender;
his wrath he will reign down
Then gracefully a girl approached me
wearing a flowing gown
Into my ear she whispered,
a message that was sent from above
“All you need is in your heart
the most powerful weapons love.”
Heidi Shavill 2013
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 7:52 AM UTC
Orbiting freely,
black holes silently spin me,
within an unconquered void of darkness;
Supernova implosions, rebirth, ensuring starlit skies.
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 9:19 AM UTC
Touch me where it ******* HURTS
My mind is your last unconquered frontier
My body is yours
Inside and out
And i feel your control without a doubt
I like the taste of you
I like the taste of these leather straps that hold me back
But for the life of me i hate feeling numb to your every whip and lash
SO TOUCH ME WHERE IT HURTS
Where love doesn't live
In my mind and I'll give you the key
To unlock my heart and my tar black soul coated in pathetic misery
TOUCH ME WHERE IT HURTS
I promise i have no emotion to offer
But my body is yours, every broken inch
To do with watcha wanna
Just touch me where it hurts..
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
Arpita ,-The Only one .
There is one ,
Only one Arpita ,
With ten thousands synonyms ,
And two Nature’s amplitude ,
To cover sense of love ,and that of feeling ,
The widened unconquered ,
Ripples beyond the horizon ,
And the frictionless revere ,
Mingles with the waited time ,
Lo ! the colossal silence chambers the rime .
Hers is the eternal Divine in love ,
And she tinges the hearts ,
With the magic fragrance of frenzy ,
She impels ,she awakens the slumbering soul ,
There is only one Arpita , that arises and rolls !
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
Dear Mother
I must confess a secret sin
It may sound foolish
You might just grin
And should these words
Make little sense
Please tell me so
Avoid any pretense
I slipped into your skin today
How the weight of time wears
In memory's ***** I sought to lay
Antecedent memories I tried to bare
But I could not comprehend
A Pizzicato journey
Well-paved walkways
The darkest alleys
Waves of variations
Like the untried
Unconquered waters
Ripples and swells
Of every known emotion
And more
I slipped into your shoes today
Memory lane I threaded
It's not an intrusion I must say
But a lesson from the learned
Though I still could not understand
Interludes and episodes
I would never fathom
Actions, reactions
I failed to decode
Highroads, crossroads,
Byroads, no roads
Turbulence in truckloads
Pardon the rhyme
Allow me to switch modes
I slipped into your past today
And caught a glimpse of you
Like the most delectable spread
I feasted on the fleeting view
Yet that does not mean I comprehend
But when time unfolds
The truths to behold
In subtle forms
Or atomic bombs
Should I discern
The right lessons to learn
I'll go with the flow
I'll let you know
Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 4:55 PM UTC
Life is a pliable mold
Made up of stories, told and untold
Some songs and poems are spoken
With no vocal chords...uttered in silence
Brave moments then, may have elevated
Us....but, some demons remain unconquered...
::::::
Life is aggravated by unshared memories
And unforgotten reveries...
True, there're things that can't be undone
Still....we maintain a long list of "uns"
And..."should've been done,"
They're like some old shoes, kept, and yet to be worn..
We can re-shape our future...start with an open mind
Change may mean progress, the future may be kind
This time...give space, so new strength may be born
So that those old shoes, gets a chance to be worn...
Sally
Copyright December 7, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
In a coming storm, there is little in the way of shelter,
In an angry sea, there is little to hold on to,
In the middle of an accident, nearly all will pelter
On a raging horse, do you know what to do?
The daunting expanse of unconquered land wants to make a fool out of you.
Do we then come together to see one another through?
Wrap me inside the carpet and roll me near the fire for I am cold,
The task requires that I shun warm comfort in favour of the cold unknown,
My bones rattle incessantly at the thought,
Whence hideth ye, my religious swathe?
It is a new cup that shakes in my hand in a froth
I am beset in my own skin, utterly fraught.
Laugh at the vicissitudes of life!
Muse at how the ingeniouses are rife
I know that you inveigh against it every once in a while,
With great gusto and all of it in a pile.
Woe betide she who looks at it with stars in her eyes
The floor is not solid and the walls are not thick, walk as if everyone lies.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 8:41 AM UTC
She was Old Man River
Could I keep up?
Elle a été au-delà de ma portée
Could I touch the sun?
Notice the tense of my writing?
At the moment we travel an untouched
Road just we two, with the present time
And memories of the moment that I
Dared to touch the her burning star.
And we're looking forward to a future of
Many things that have gathered dust.
Where we thrive in engaging with
The forgotten, and the unlearned things
Of the unconquered hearts love.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
I occupy this space
unconquered
unclaimed
just a matter of existence
this is where I shall begin
in this pool of life
displaced by so many others
until it is overflowing
I am beyond the gates of birth
released to a wild horizon
don't tame me
I'm exactly who I should be
Apr 7, 2022
Apr 7, 2022 at 3:12 PM UTC