"unfurls" poems
In fathoms
Between my flannel sheets,
There's no better place
To sleep;
But then I turn my blanket on,
Level Two
Is snug and warm.
Envelope-like we interlope,
Entwine and grind,
And grasp and *****
Giving me rising hope,
This tug's gonna stay afloat.
Up now. Rise. Up periscope!
Dive. Dive!
Beneath waves and swirls,
Beneath flannel caps
To chests of pearls,
Now deeper,
Where life unfurls.
Our raging flannel
Seas
Grow calm;
And in the quiet,
After the storm,
We lie on
Our bedded sea,
My first mate sighs:
*I have to ***
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Pursue the delicate moonlight shining beyond the scene, illuminating the grass of the coming spring in an ghastly silver yet majestic green
Clouds with their sterling lining, the cummuters of the heaven, preventing the sun, or the moon sometimes from shining down to us,
Seemingly caught in an endless journey they travel with the wind,
Yet under these drifting clouds in the sweetest of lights, the world remains to be in slumber, a story which never truly unfurls after all,
Can you gaze into a face fraught with sin, possessed by the one you share this dazzling night with on a day alike the tale of a dream ?
Wrapped up under a celestial sphere, here where dreams and illusions collide within the sweet embrace of your strong caring arms,
Finding rest I can leave my body to the flow of time as it passes,
Grandually sweet seasons may take away ones breath with grandiose,
Until the wish projected within your eyes finds its way to become reality, I will stand beside you with serenity and grace, till I may fade,
I may not be able to hand over these feelings, but the grasp of tomorrow bears some power to it, certainly transient time passes,
Let the depths of your heart guide you to a bright, fantastic future,
Until then, shimmering brilliantly, shimmering behind the horizon,
The Sun rises
~ Umi
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 7:06 AM UTC
*The chill in the frigid night air
casts tremors of lingering shadows
upon an ancient windowsill
where a liquescent candle’s glow dims.
Peering into shattered mirrors’
silver hued jagged edges
that no longer reflect counterfeit images
a nascent paradigm unfurls in the wind.
Terrifying diminutive steps are taken
in directions au courant
enabled by years of refinement
in torrid near incessant fires.
An excrescence of wisdom
has broken the weathered mold
allowing a senescent wisdom
to shimmer a phosphorescent glow.
The venerable map leading
to this transcendent destination
is not read but perceived
through intuition’s faint whisperings.
©2015 janetaylor
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
'Why is it so painful to grow?'
A seed.
Just a seed buried under the ground.
Under the pressure of the soil,
It fights to grow.
The seed cracks,
such a sturdy little seed,
opens with a painful snap.
A sprout coils out.
Out of the cracked little seed.
A sprout now crushed under,
Under the pressure of the unforgiving ground.
Yet still... It grows.
A little sprout,
Now reaches up.
Up and away from the little seed,
and up to the light of the sun.
Pushing and groaning it bursts out.
Out from the unforgiving ground.
Yet now new dangers are to be found.
Will it be trampled
Or eaten alive?
The possibilities are endless,
The ways it could die.
And still.. it grows.
The sprout toils endlessly,
always stretching and growing
Reaching for the crimson sun.
The rain falls down
beating upon the sprout.
Pelting it's skin and whipping it about.
It skin hardens painfully,
and sprout becomes stem.
And still It grows.
The stem keeps reaching,
Stretching to the sky.
The stem then splits
It rips in two a bud appears
A little bud,
With so much to do.
Then the bud breaks
A crack appears
a petal unfurls from within.
Then it's a bloom.
Such a sweet little thing.
Until the crack stretches
So the bloom can grow
In to the beautiful rose
We've all come to know.
And still.. it grows.
Thorns burst free
Breaking out of the stem
And petals billow and grow in the breeze.
Then you see me,
And my beauty delights you,
So you wish to see me every day.
And your scissors encircle me
To give you your way.
They cut me in half.
They slice me in two.
being a rose,
There was naught I could do.
You carry me with you,
Your hands coated in my blood,
I'm dying slowly,
All for your love.
And now... I can't grow.
So as I bleed and wither in pain,
You place me in a vase
Or press me in a book,
All to save the bloom for another day.
And as I gasp for air,
Among your dry pages,
You leech me of all life,
Perfectly preserved
just so I could last the ages.
Or else I am drowning
In glass and water
My beauty wasted
hour by hour
Day by day
All to satisfy your whimsical ways.
And now all I wish to know,
'Why is it so painful to grow?'
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
By my dear angel Sandalphon as he has been lead in my hand, leaving a clear trail of a cursive writing on a transient sheet of paper,
A crimson sight, so black that one would be caught in trance, reflected by unnatural light of a lamp flickering in the dark of the night, as his feather releases a sweet scent of fresh yet unused ink,
Together with Zadkiel's blooming and happy memories I then am capable to write such down, in an attempt to create poetry, focused,
The sound of scratchy, itchy, rasping echos through this room I inhabit, but already left spititually, engaged in the world of fantasy,
Word by word, the paper is penetrated by this pen, pleasantly, thoughtfully, gently sliding over it to not damage it by accident,
There is no need for haste, heartache nor rush, not is there the need to be concerned about this angels work, duty and his mission to accompany me throughout each and every writing which unfurls,
Alike a story from my mind, from my emotions, deepest wishes, cast on the physical realm with his help,
And once his strengh weakens, fades, loses might and goes out alike an dying ember he will be dunked in fresh ongoing determination, so that he can repeat his duties with exuberance, joy
Casting a smile on my face once literature has been created,
As then I lay my dark knight, my servant for the night to rest,
Until another poem has to be written and his duty awakens him,
After all, in this dreamlike tale it is well to remember;
You don't have to die in a dream
~ Umi
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
***They love where the waves wash up on the shore
And where sunsets and sunrises are always
Seen from the rocky islands
With the silhouettes of palm trees
As the sun goes down behind
The curtain of the west
And takes his rest
Then the Moon and stars
Come out and twinkle
And shine their brightness
For all to see
And the Sea Fairies
Come out on the shore
And dance to the Tropical songs
That all Sea Fairies love to sing
And they dance upon the shore
They dance all Night
When tired they sit upon the cool sand
Of the beach
And sit there
Watching the waves
And the dark blue sea
With it's reflection of the full Moon
The Hibiscus is awake with the
Sea Fairies
And she unfurls her soft sweet petals
Towards the full Moon***
~Marian~
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
SLOWLY the Moon her banderoles of light
Unfurls upon the sky; her fingers drip
Pale, silvery tides; her armoured warriors
Leave Day's bright tents of azure and of gold,
Wherein they hid them, and in silence flock
Upon the solemn battlefield of Night
To try great issues with the blind old king,
The Titan Darkness, who great Pharoah fought
With groping hands, and conquered for a span.
The starry hosts with silver lances *****
The scarlet fringes of the tents of Day,
And turn their crystal shields upon their *******
And point their radiant lances, and so wait
The stirring of the giant in his caves.
The solitary hills send long, sad sighs
As the blind Titan grasps their locks of pine
And trembling larch to drag him toward the sky,
That his wild-seeking hands may clutch the Moon
From her war-chariot, scythed and wheeled with light,
Crush bright-mailed stars, and so, a sightless king,
Reign in black desolation! Low-set vales
Weep under the black hollow of his foot,
While sobs the sea beneath his lashing hair
Of rolling mists, which, strong as iron cords,
Twine round tall masts and drag them to the reefs.
Swifter rolls up Astarte's light-scythed car;
Dense rise the jewelled lances, groves of light;
Red flouts Mars' banner in the voiceless war
(The mightiest combat is the tongueless one);
The silvery dartings of the lances *****
His fingers from the mountains, catch his locks
And toss them in black fragments to the winds,
Pierce the vast hollow of his misty foot,
Level their diamond tips against his breast,
And force him down to lair within his pit
And thro' its chinks ****** down his groping hands
To quicken Hell with horror-for the strength
That is not of the Heavens is of Hell.
8.3k
Writing a story on a topic,
Hazing away at the microsoapics,
I write stories that aren’t meant to be fun,
Just the basic humdrum.
Reality is my Inspiration,
No matter the mood I’m in.
Dragons and Wizards are to be left on the bookshelves,
As I run to work,
And meet my colleagues for a day of writing reality.
We walk the world in actuality,
And see people with all different vitality.
People of all different ideas of reality.
They speak,
I listen,
I ask,
And they answer,
And we both learn about reality together.
I then write what I heard,
Tell what I saw,
And let the ideas fly like birds.
I've seen all people of life,
I've heard many of there trifes.
I laughed at their victories,
I cry at their lost,
And I hear all their vivid histories.
I write all types of reality,
From the memories of all different types of vitalities.
And as I write about how reality unfurls,
I write about the greatest dreams of this world
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC
Stained are teeth, and fingers yellow,
Softly whispered lies we keep.
Smoke unfurls in breath so mellow,
Promising but sinking deep.
Coiling tendrils, soft and clever,
Lull the mind in fleeting grace.
Cinder ghosts that warm, yet sever,
Leave their embers on the face.
Every spark—a pledge unwinding,
Every drag—a weight we bear.
Sworn to comfort, yet confining,
Clinging to a thinning air.
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 1:14 AM UTC
August, the Red Line,
connected tanks
of bolted plastic vertebrae.
Every seat gone except
five rows up, where a sea lion
sprawls across two,
stuffed backpack, yellow jacket
spread out like caution tape.
His grunt a wet bark
at the glow of his screen.
Middle-school deer slip into the aisle,
chatter clipped when the sheriff drifts past,
their ears flicking, smiles bitten shut.
Not a predator- just a gelded ox,
chest puffed, badge sagging, glass-eyed,
chest rig clattering with blanks.
Two lemur-children cling to their tortoise elder,
her shell steady against the sway of the car.
She shepherds them from the surge of riders:
loud Dodger blue parrots in cholo socks,
moth-women with plumed lashes beating the stale air,
a stray dog, gutter musk dragging at its haunches.
And one gray bear
muttering alone,
arguing with her reflection.
Between Koreatown and MacArthur Park,
somewhere the sea begins to breathe again,
then, feathers forcing through my skin-
an alley gull knifing into this clamour,
scavenging inside its exhaust.
The car rattles, its ribs plated with blistered posters:
museum wings open to no one,
‘register to vote’ fading into graffiti script,
flu shots promised by smiling ghosts.
A bruised hatchling staring out beside the words
See something, say something.
The warning lights glow
like eyes hunting in the dark.
From its flanks the train
unfurls iron claws.
They rake
the tunnel walls,
the city’s bones,
the dark itself.
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 10:00 PM UTC
Purple mango leaves,
The tree unfurls on one morn;
Tender smile at the porch!
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 7:13 PM UTC
Math
Numbers
The only things everyone
And everything have in common
You can find mathematical proofs written
In between the stars
Numerical sequences hiding beneath a fern
That unfurls to reach the heavens
No one can deny, one will always equal one
And the sum of two numbers will never change
Truths remain truths no matter the language
I can't see how my friends can say 'I hate math'
Or how people say 'numbers are stupid'
Numbers and math comprise the essence of life
On another planet the number pi and
Sierpinski's triangle may have different names
But their rules remain the same
Math and numbers make up geometry
Which is full of tesselations, and fractals
And beautiful diagrams and principles
How can you not love something like the
Golden Ratio, or the Fibonacci sequence?
They provide the curl of a fern, the twist of
A snail's shell, the spiral of a pineapple
And rotation of axial leaves
Such a beautiful, never changing system
That appears in so so many forms
Why be bored when you can play with fractal-y
Tesselating doodles?
And don't even get me started on science...
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 3:03 PM UTC
I adore you
With your forward brow,
Eyes of nightshade and black treacle.
Your image floats and unfurls in the ****** spaces
Between marks posed in gazette.
You stare back at me knowingly,
Cunningly,
As though watching the course of my life unfold.
You have stretched your hand through time
To let it fall in a cold gust across these pages,
Betwixt the folds of my cerebrum,
Your spectral lips prompting faintly
In the nook behind my ear.
-O goddess, O muse!-
O fellow soul…
You have found me.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 7:29 PM UTC
In sunshine or in shadow how rich the loamy soil
light of earth, dream of rebirth greening
lilac buds and bluebells ring
magenta hills, aubretia spring
of burning fire
A mossy path of violets, soft my feet to wander
muscari blue the garden dew
birds to drink of leafy puddles
bluest skies go grey, drifts so swift a rain cloud by
to water quick the daffodil, silk umbrellas yellow
and comes alas the greening grass
robins hopping, weaving
Spring unfurls in flowery births
tiny violets upon the earth
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
Here I am; waiting,
Waiting for an old friend
On a deserted Railway Station.
She’s late; knew she would be.
Time behaves differently in
Such public places; very differently.
I stood waiting alone,
Then a gaggle of women
Clattered up the subway.
Stilettos and thick, heeled boots,
Beating out an echoing tattoo,
On the broad, concrete steps.
Now we wait together,
Myself and a Hen Party.
Blending of emotional alloys
Fused together, forming
Excitement; then I see her
And all heads turn to look.
Amongst the flower boxes,
Silence blossoms on the
Platform as my old friend
Glides serenely into the station,
She’s late; knew she would be
Even so, she’s on time for me.
Steam unfurls around her,
Billowing majestic clouds
Crowning this, ‘Queen of
The Rails’, last seen when
I was a boy, now in manhood
Her unsung glory is truly revered.
Steel wheels clatter, a rhythmic
Tattoo, then she draws to a halt.
Old friend from a previous age
Escaping through to this century,
Thronged by beautiful women, I
Smile, and step aboard a true beauty.
©Paul M Chafer 2014
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defences...
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour.
Grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender.
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,
Turn your face away from cold, unfeeling light -
and listen to the music of the night...
Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!
And you'll live as you've never lived before.
Softly, deftly, music shall caress you.
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you.
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,
in this darkness which you know you cannot fight
the darkness of the music of the night.
Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!
Let your soul take you where you long to be!
Only then can you belong to me.
Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!
Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation!
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in,
To the harmony which dreams alone can write,
The power of the music of the night!
You alone can make my song take flight,
Help me make the music of the night.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
hummingbird boy
seeking
hummingbird girl
(seeking only a long summertime of hum
sipping dark red flowers and then some)
summer hummingbird
hummingbird hummingbird
hummingbird unfurls
hummingbird whirs
hummingbird twirls
twirling hummingbird
twirl twirl hummingbird
hummingbird whirls
whirling hummingbird
whirl whirl hummingbird
hummingbird pearls
pearls of hummingbird
pearl hummingbird pearl
humming hummingbird
hum hum hummingbird
hummingbird hummingbird
humming hummingbird
hummingbird bird hums
hum hummingbird hum
fuming hummingbird
fume fume hummingbird
hummingbird fumes
watching... waiting
for any hummingbird girl
humming hummingbird
hummingbird summer
Heard hummingbird’s whir
Within a bright summer day
A whir... now... heart beats
© 2019 Jim Davis
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 11:14 AM UTC
Pride of the world, like a phoenix I rise
towering over darkness and hatred
scarred though our hearts be, but
un-cowed, unfurls my spirit, leading
aspirations to the skies and beyond.
We are Americans and Europeans
and Africans and Asians, divided
in religion and race, but here we meet
as one world, here we will bridge
heaven and earth and hew a passage
through boulders of bigotry into
the lands of brotherhood and peace.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
A lavender sky unfurls before me
its plumes shifting
imperceptibly
while the sunrise
pends at my back.
The delicate white wings
flutter just above the dewey grass revealing
silently
the city of fairy moths
welcoming today.
The myths of me and mine
echo quietly
with the rhythm
of my hollow heart
as the bruised horizon
brightens blue.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 1:54 PM UTC
*
*
One can never see nor hold the same
the same flake twice, but that cannot
be said for the Queen whose skin
is as white as a star and just as cold.
A plum blossom who thrives off
the winters and blizzards.
Her silver locks tousled in her wind,
her eyes were icebergs of the deepest
blue and yet they burn with kindness
Her thin lips form a smile when a
flake falls in her palm, her open
hand becomes a fist.
But then unfurls like a flower
in spring to reveal a plum blossom
petal that glides away to the song of
zephyrs.
Winters may be cold but it brings
warmth -
lovers grow close,
families bond
children laugh
Memories form...
The Fae swirl leaving trails of shimmering
blue as she looks to the distance.
Her white robe billows, so cloud-soft.
'The Summer's sun has become Winter's,'
she closes her eyes and exhales.
'I feel your warmth and pride, Sister Summer.'
'My dears?' the Fae flutter by her head
in waiting. 'Be sure to have apricity embrace
them all. In hour of the Summer's Queen.'
*
*
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 3:24 PM UTC
You are my sun, the planets and the asteroids in between,
actually, make that the energy that embraces the sun,
the elements and trace elements that make up each planet...
(Oh, my stars!)
You are each perfect petal that unfurls ever so slowly in the morning light,
actually, make that the light that kisses each dew drop which
awakes each petal with that sweet kiss...
(Oh, blush, my buzzing bee!)
You are that raindrop that refreshes my parched soul that's stranded in a desert,
actually, make that the mirage that proves to be an oasis
as my eyes widen in wonderment with the reality of You.
(Oh, shucks, my sweet breath!)
You are my golden compass whenever I get lost in the wilderness,
actually, I wouldn't mind getting lost, if it means
that I get lost in your soulful, beautiful eyes Forever
(Oh, you cheeseball, you!!)
You are the chocolate ganache frosting on that chocolate cake,
actually, you are the powdered sugar on my honey-dipped doughnut
that brushes my lips, the perfect complement for hot, hot coffee
(Oh, honey bun!!)
You are the--
Sweetcakes??
You are the freshly ground pepper that dusts softly on my carbonara, I'm just
Ahem!!!!
You are the freshly ground pepper that dusts softly on my carbonara,
actually it would be bland and incomplete without you and---
Hey, babe!
huh?!
*I'm on dense mode right now, what are you really trying to say?
Come on, spill it, I NEVER hear it from you...*
Ummm, ummm...I...I...
I mean, I--
Out with it, come on!! You can do it---"I...."
Hoo! Ok, I...
I can do this---
I...
(Note to self: This is IT!!!!!)
I--
Yesss...?!!
I
am
the empty, wanting glass and you are the refreshing drink that fills me up,
actually,--
***~BOINKKKKKkkK~ !! I'm walking away now!!
Geez, if you can't say IT without all the Fluffy, duffy, Fluff,
see me walking away for now...I need the Skinny, the skeleton!
Sometimes one just needs to Hear it, you know?!
Oh, and I love you,in case you didn't know...but see me walk!***
Hey, honey bunny, smoochie sweetie pie?
...still walking away~~~~
I...
huff, huff, huff~~
I am walking towards you...
Huff, puff, puff and hufff~! (note to self: Walk on, walk on...)
I said I'm walking towards you...
~bump~!
and
I...
Love
You.
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 1:09 PM UTC
I find myself lost in thought
In moments curious
About the wonders of those
I lack any of
Sometimes I wonder
At these times I know not what to think of
Searching for a path
Embedded in the insanity I call my mind
Undisturbed, until placed under the guise of my curiosity
Sometimes I travel these paths
It’s a unique feeling
Finding pieces of myself
I hadn’t known were shattered
And beginning to build on what I hadn’t known
Quite a complex puzzle
I place regret in the lack of relation
I hold with those who call me close
Knowing I could never show them these pieces
In the face of what they saw as whole
Enveloped in their naïveté
Sometimes I approach the ends of these paths
Finding parts previously unknown
And in certain cases
Certainly unwanted
But I realize their place in what I seek
This path unfurls itself to me
My mind slowly revealing itself to me
Not as a continuous staircase
Rather, an intricate river
Fed by the kindness of many streams, many still unknown to me
I close my eyes to these tunes
Some playing to gentle piano keys
Others to the harsh shattering of glass, perhaps something else
And yet they all play in the same key
Performing movements to the growth of my path
Sometimes I lay terrified to these pieces I find
Yet I still close my eyes
Looking through the streams, paths, and interlaced insanities
To find those pieces I haven’t yet placed together
Reaching out to their neglected whimpers
Sometimes I wonder whether this path is wise
When most others ignore the streams,
Choosing the clear way in front
But then I think to who I am, and finally see
Sometimes never has enough
And I realize this
The need for my Sometimes
To become Always
And perhaps it does
Sometimes
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
Go where the road untangles and unfurls
by those cliff side views over those blue curls
lit only by those high beams off those white pearls.
Only sense of direction is the road ahead
no going back just only forwards instead
as going prevents drifting to the sea bed.
The white sea foam crashes amongst the shore
those high beams persist only for Salvadore
the light bends around the corner then no more.
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 1:58 AM UTC
Every day with you, a tale unfolds,
Awakening hearts like buds at dawn,
Blooming brightly through the noon,
Evoking smiles before first yawn,
Surprising us with night's full bloom.
Each day a fresh blossom unfurls its grace,
Each week a new *** of love to tend,
Each month, a fertile bed where dreams embrace,
A year with you, our colorful garden blend
Together, let's nurture this love so true,
As we watch the world around us bloom.
Oct 3, 2023
Oct 3, 2023 at 5:28 AM UTC