"unknotted" poems
In a flower bed
Of rose and thorn,
Scarlet and green,
As we stem into one
Growth under blankets
White with joy, blue
As blood, we pluck
The petals left for us,
We tangle in thickets,
Moisted lips of heaven
Of clover and of daisy,
Milky as the wet stars,
Honeyed in the night
Hive and sumptuous
Joining, like clouds,
Opening above, we
Drench ourselves, cry
In drops, teary rains
That break, inwards,
Eyes, entwining with
Hot limbs unknotted
Till there is the spent
Wonder of skin scent,
Steeps of salt and sea,
Each leftover of touch
An outcast, a grieving.
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
From Potent Treasures despite Five Months past
The Sixth Great Angel suddenly appeared
Reminding my Lost Voice which Virtues last
And preached the Sermon of True Self revealed
How Wonderful must your Header advise
Being the Younger of your Sister's sprite
From there Unknotted Loyalty devise
Though snubbed by Pink Dandelions in spite
Now I can see why he chose over you
His Charming Sense knew your Heart was that Pure
And please keep on; Keep that Silver Disc blue
Coat them with your Wings from being demure.
Yes I Agree. Of your True Coating's stand
Thank you so much for reminding me at hand.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
One day people will touch and talk perhaps
easily,
And loving be natural as breathing and warm as
sunlight,
And people will untie themselves, as string is unknotted,
Unfold and yawn and stretch and spread their fingers,
Unfurl, uncurl like seaweed returned to the sea,
And work will be simple and swift
as a seagull flying,
And play will be casual and quiet
as a seagull settling,
And the clocks will stop, and no one will wonder
or care or notice,
And people will smile without reason,
Even in winter, even in the rain.
3.2k
crammed in corrals
hissing whispers of escape
and hoping their
size and shade
captivates
the next sticky-fingered cart rider
mother's mind so mobbed
and arms so grocery-laden
that the ribbed
and loosely coiled ribbon
remains unknotted, unbowed
to slip
from pudgy-fingered grips
the orb bobs and sways–
laughing, helium-high
as it makes its getaway
unknowingly following Icarus
to a solar ******
that is, if beak or plane
doesn't reach it first
POP!
shattered and tattered, irreparable
it plummets back to earth
its noose
still dangling from its neck
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
Is this how happiness feel like?
Oh, the way my lips gently curve upwards is like..
Sleepy eyes kissed airily by sunshine,
buttering toast on a bitter cold winter's day.
When it is so very cold,
every breath feels like toothpaste and mint.
It is the worries being unknotted.
Little inexplicable sparks that can light even the darkest souls.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
Every breath pushed me further bobbing and blushing, rounder and tugging, seeking simply to soar. I could taste the breeze, the blue above - waiting, and as I stretched so did my smile.
But I was held unknotted only, oblivion teetering on the pinch of a thumb and forefinger. Until slowly but cynically, gasp by gasp, all was forced out, and when the moment came to go, there was nothing left to go on.
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
if they call them "heartstrings"
then
someone must have untied your end from mine
someone must have cut your end from mine
someone must have picked and picked until
the string frayed and split
someone must have unknotted every knot we tied to hold us together.
if they call them "heartstrings"
then
i need to be restrung
so my heart isn't hanging around
broken
for everyone to see.
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 1:21 PM UTC
Emily will take her cedar box
of hidden poems
throwing them on a Sou’ Westerly breeze
in a New England Spring —
They will be snatched and fly
daring, dainty flutter byes
across the stretching continent
the Great Plains and New Frontiers —
The Sun — rising in ribbons
Mountains dripping scarlet sunsets
vast Miles of Evening Sparks —
as the Hemispheres come home
to early Night —
they’ll be read by lonely cowboys
drinking whisky, in the sagebrush
Indian braves campfire smoking
Sung in Saloons by husky-voiced dames
can-can dressed and a whole lotta grit
and gumption.
Emily, lightened of her load
unknotted the Skein of Misery —
Universe unstitched —
in this moment of escape
Landscape will listen —
Shadows will hold their breath
until the words are spoken.
Emily’s skipping down the stairs
of that morbid, cold wintered house
with its bare Slants of Light —
rushing out the door
throwing herself on the Open day —
Telling True, but slanted.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Tiny little parcel
All wrapped up and waiting to be
Undone.
Sitting quietly
Under the shade of
Resentful
Ambiguity.
Cautious scarred and wry
(smiling)
insecurity
See me sitting calmly
assembled
All parceled up and wanting
Waiting
To be unpicked
Carefully
Hand stitched
Calling softly (upon deaf ears)
To be untied
To see what lies
Beneath each fettered
Layer.
Role player
This small and softly spoken
Box
Of being
Seeing nothing
Feeling everything
With wary
(doleful)
Soulful eyes.
(closed)
Dreaming of being
(open)
I am token
Bundle
******
a pile of sticks
untamed.
Paused upon the ground
unsound
Aspiring to to be burned
In order to
(feel)
spurned.
This collated stack
Of feelings lost to the numb of
Being wrapped up and tied to the self.
A book full of stories
Unnamed.
Pages upon pages
Loose words
Collected
Piled and falling
Upon a dusty
Neglected shelf
Too much of the self
Not enough of the other.
Resting.
Worn out
Dog eared
Belayed by fear.
Waiting
Wasting
Hasting
to be undone.
To be unknotted
Frayed
Displayed
Vast volume
Unspoken betray.
Hold fast
This minute
Package
Lying restless
At your feet.
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 4:07 PM UTC
I’ll sing you a lullaby,
From all my toys,
They’d come to life
And me make noise,
They’d make me sing at night,
Sing songs well spoken,
But now it’s turned to fright,
As they’ve been broken.
The color from the paint is gone,
The windows are now smashed,
What was blue and white
Has now turned grey,
And faultless plastic has held its might,
As I still sit here and play.
A skipping string with rope unknotted,
A trampoline with springs unthread,
A skateboard that misses it’s wheels,
All sit alone in this old shed.
The doll house empty,
and rooms abandoned,
The dolls are naked,
that clothes can’t find,
A broken swing,
that has been stranded,
A teddy bear that’s lost its mind.
A plastic keyboard, that makes no sound,
A cooker oven with stickers ripped,
A crying dog that has been mound,
A broken stool that can’t be fixed.
Although they're damaged and battered through,
They sing me lullabies, I sing to you.
They make me come alive,
So I make noise,
So I can sleep at night,
With these few toys.
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 12:21 PM UTC
I am no judge of good character
(think I am the greatest poet-cum-bf ever)
I used to be a sharp dresser,
(then to the time twisted testing,
t'is of tiny import sense succumbed)
I used to love woman by the score
(Ha! fooled ya, still do, will dying do so,
but caught in a single spider's heartweb,
I read, and I love, and cheat only nowadays
with weak eyes and strong words)
I used to be young in heart,
(self impressed at my talented prose,
but then my eyes grew keener,
the more I read, the older I got,
the more others led me faster,
sweeter to the promised land)
so I trip 'n skip in the waterfall pool,
that forms where the poems cascading
are laid down to peaceful repose to keep,
and too oft, sad uneyed loneliness
yet, I see a graffiti on the clear bottom,
white paint upon an earthen rock,
wipe away the eddys, put aside the ego,
lift it, lift me up, that stone,
with caressing care to read:
So Jo Was Here
oh indeed indeed in deed another poet,
who blues my heart with words modest,
in combinations that say to me
you knew that, but not till now!
how did she know that
*words and words and -
ironies usurp courage
adventure scowls unsated
Times New Roman ****
pixels unconsummated
similes sin-taxed for hits
stale nefarious negging
all heros on the page
reality waits begging*
I read and I think
did I not write these words?
*love is a bittersweet borrowed lie
time is a slowly emptied sigh
deception is the sharpest yet rustiest lance
and rage the slowest, saddest dance
while truth's just polished-up confusion
with words - the slipperiest illusion*
But I did not!
nope but I read them cause
So Jo Was Here
stoked and croaking,
addicted, I read on
only to find my mirror image
once again, one mo' time crime
*But I was held unknotted only,
oblivion teetering on the pinch
of a thumb and forefinger.
Until slowly but cynically,
gasp by gasp,
all was forced out, and when
the moment came to go,
there was nothing left to go on*
so it is written, so it will be read
then you can say too,
as I did, as I here confess,
in my recesses unexplored,
trembled to find,
overjoyed to be
me revealed
cause:
So Jo Was Here
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
.
In a flower bed
Of rose and thorn,
Scarlet and green,
As we stem into one
Growth under blankets
White with joy, blue
As blood, we pluck
The petals left for us,
We tangle in thickets,
Moisted lips of heaven
Of clover and of daisy,
Milky as the wet stars,
Honeyed in the night
Hive and sumptuous
Joining, like clouds,
Opening above, we
Drench ourselves, cry
In drops, teary rains
That break, inwards,
Eyes, entwining with
Hot limbs unknotted
Till there is the spent
Wonder of skin scent,
Steeps of salt and sea,
Each leftover of touch
An outcast, a grieving.
.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
*Your touch on me,
firm, protective,
searching
me out.
Trying to touch my
every detail that has
been covered with
the forest's leaves.
Your fingertips so
tender and soft
against my skin.
Your hands so
delicate as they
unknotted the
weeds and seeds
tangled up in
my hair.
Our thoughts drenched
us in love in that moment.
Our thoughts of passion
and lust began to turn
us on.
Making our hearts
pound so strong making
us both nervous and
hard.
Your heat warmed my
body that has been
cold for a long time.
Your hands covered
my chest and rose from
being exposed to the
wind and these woods.
Is it destiny that sent
you here ? Is it fate that
let us kiss and touch ?
Is love that allowed our
hearts to sing along the
same song ?
The leaves and vines
giggled when your lips
brushed against my
blushing cheeks.
The sky sighed and
weeped tears of joy on
us damping the soil
beneath our bare
feet.
Our kisses and hugs
made nature gaze in
awe. It made nature
shout out for an
encore.
While the birds above
placed a crown of the
brightest leaves upon
my head.
You kneeled down on
both your knees , kissed
my hand and proposed
to me in front of the
trees and the fallen
leaves* ~
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
i'd lap up an apology like it was saccharine nectar.
i beg for my self-worth to be untied, unscrambled,
unknotted from perceptions of
strangers and eyes, that linger
and push inward, scorching my skin.
Lo i remain,
pensive and fickle
begging to be your humble, healing servant.
Please let me help you. Please let me save you.
I'll dash my own bandages from my wounds just to set yours.
Tell me where it hurts.
I tell you to not think of me, i'm not worthy of the thought.
May 22, 2022
May 22, 2022 at 1:44 PM UTC
Sarcasm
Can't say I still wish,
that I'll be with you
Can't say I'll crave your kiss
and I'll miss you.
Can't say I dream of you
of the future that's untold
Can't say I can't go on
I'm frozen and cold.
Can't say i don't regret
that day I chose to stay.
Can't say I won't forget
those memories on display.
Can't say I want you
or even consider it a need.
Can't say I will let go
wanting you is a greed.
Can't say I want to tie you
in an unknotted rope.
Can't say I'll hold on to you
you were my only hope.
Can't say I want an extension
of what we have yesterday,
Can't say its desperation
coz you didn't want to stay.
Can't say I really envy
the girl that has you now.
Can't say she'll better make you happy
and I really hope she knows how.
Can't say I still love you
even tomorrow or today
Can't say you left me
waiting endlessly at bay.
I'll ask you to repeat everything
and remove "can't say"
You'll see nothing
but the truth in this poem I relay.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
So who ever birthed this version of
mans needing to blame another...
regrettably we seem to blame another...
but when it was stitched into the verse..
to many cooks cooking to many in verse..
But then he slipped in free will, will
he let us grow our own apples but
now he let us choke on our will
to eat what we sewed, then we said, but...
Shoved in the cold, but still our path
was pre-written, but his spelling missed its path.
Now who can sink and swim, I'm not a fish?
but now those pre-written, drowning food for fish.
I'm confused and insecure, that I'm but a string
that just pulled, now tie in this piece of string?
What I'm just tied in a story not of my own.
But then I unknotted myself my stories my own.
I found that a path isn't just one but a crossroads
of my design. How many paths are crossroads,
how many fall between dead ends I don't care,
my life is my own, no abandonment issues to care.
I'll eat every dam apple, I want to eat to be me,
sulk to my freedom of thought ill always be me.
I'll walk this collection of glances, and look up seeing
the universe clearly, it a life of chaos that I'm seeing.
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 5:36 PM UTC
My own mind.
Channeling sending my soul away.
Expect laughter and doubt fly.
Why not? Enjoy.
It's not that bad alone.
I don't have to pull my string.
Burning in my heart keeps me at bay.
Story teller within.
Distilled coloured skin.
capture
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
At lunch I bought a pear,
its shape: a quiet joke.
I cut it clean and slowly,
the blade, the slice, the poke.
It tasted like a breather,
not sweet, just real and right.
Like silence in the stairwell
or breezes late at night.
The afternoon unknotted,
each task a gentler climb.
I fed the cat. I folded shirts.
You’re not here. I’m fine.
Jul 8, 2025
Jul 8, 2025 at 7:32 PM UTC
He brought all the nuances of pain
those that scratch the bottomless pit
and I still love his vain coldness
one that unsettles and rumbles
with icicles that bursts to iced pebbles
and the space between the ridges
turned to hours, hours to days
and the silence became a punishment
as if banished to feel the pace of another
and how I saw his veins lay unsettled
splitting the tensions of the rotating clock
as if to utter some words and remedies
as if to narrate sonnets of the longing peace
but every warmness was ignored
and the tenderness was destroyed
until love became a wrestling field
of unjust manipulation and control
and the playfulness withered
right at the corner of where we played
making those magical connections
of the energetic pull and push
and his essence made me die again
lost in the woods of the sweet dreams
and now we bid,lonely and unwanted
growing yet another notch unknotted
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
It was
A beautiful unfolding,
The way his
Words
Unwove
All the intricate knots
That held together
The pieces of
My tender heart.
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 10:53 AM UTC
Can't say I still wish,
that I'll be with you
Can't say I'll crave your kiss
and I'll miss you.
Can't say I dream of you
of the future that's untold
Can't say I can't go on
I'm frozen and cold.
Can't say i don't regret
that day I chose to stay.
Can't say I won't forget
those memories on display.
Can't say I want you
or even consider it a need.
Can't say I will let go
wanting you is a greed.
Can't say I want to tie you
in an unknotted rope.
Can't say I'll hold on to you
you were my only hope.
Can't say I want an extension
of what we have yesterday,
Can't say its desperation
coz you didn't want to stay.
Can't say I really envy
the girl that has you now.
Can't say she'll better make you happy
and I really hope she knows how.
Can't say I still love you
even tomorrow or today
Can't say you left me
waiting endlessly at bay.
I'll ask you to repeat everything
and remove "can't say"
You'll see nothing
but the truth in this poem I relay.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 7:48 AM UTC
You can write a poem
In a thousand different ways.
Here, I laid the words out
In prose, like one long rope
Unknotted, with the knowledge
That I will look back
And cut the cords
According to how
I wish to sing.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC