Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"unmeet" poems
On a day—alack the day!— Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind All unseen ‘gan passage find; That the lover, sick to death, Wish’d himself the heaven’s breath. Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow; Air, would I might triumph so! But, alack, my hand is sworn Ne’er to pluck thee from thy thorn: Vow, alack, for youth unmeet; Youth so apt to pluck a sweet! Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee; Thou for whom e’en Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiop were; And deny himself for Jove, Turning mortal for thy love.
0
7.4k
The Blossom
Now that we have met, You cannot unmeet me, For the energy of the world Is no longer the same. That is the nature Of encountered souls Who now know What the world misses in passing, That brief door into hearts, Beyond appearance. Our meeting is a dare Time has organized. Drop your clothes, Dismiss ancient hopes, Kiss the air one last time, Fall into warm darkness, And go home, The home you miss And never knew, The peace you need But never claimed. Shake your life this meeting And raise your eyes to a view Through a window To the god I am.
0
Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 10:22 AM UTC
This Meeting
i wish to unmeet you          only to meet you again.
0
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
let's start afresh (10w)
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Alas! they all are in their graves, the gentle race, of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sun-flower by the brook in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen. And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home; When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side: In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.
0
3.5k
The Death Of The Flowers
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread. The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Alas! they all are in their graves, the gentle race, of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sun-flower by the brook in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen. And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home; When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side: In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.
Continue reading...
30
Inscribed to a Dear Child: In Memory of Golden Summer Hours And Whispers of a Summer Sea Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task, Eager she wields her ***** yet loves as well Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask The tale he loves to tell. Rude spirits of the seething outer strife, Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright, Deem if you list, such hours a waste of life, Empty of all delight! Chat on, sweet Maid, and rescue from annoy Hearts that by wiser talk are unbeguiled. Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy, The heart-love of a child!
0
2.8k
Dedication
Inscribed to a Dear Child: In Memory of Golden Summer Hours And Whispers of a Summer Sea Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task, Eager she wields her ***** yet loves as well Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask The tale he loves to tell. Rude spirits of the seething outer strife, Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright, Deem if you list, such hours a waste of life, Empty of all delight! Chat on, sweet Maid, and rescue from annoy Hearts that by wiser talk are unbeguiled. Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy, The heart-love of a child!
0
2.7k
Dedication
But our eyes can't unmeet, and you can't unwound my heart, the strings you tugged at. I'm not the kind of person you keep  when you let everything just fall apart. You were always the first one to bolt out the door when the curtains caught fire, when the faucet spewed dirt instead of water. What little light I thought you saw in my fluorescent eyes, couldn't get past your opacity and you just watched them burn out. It was always going to end exactly like this.
0
Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 7:15 AM UTC
Untitled
sum or is or body fair? the dawn which marks with crimson the light which trills or hair                                                  ? loose or hangs by easily does such clatter and or slop (legs unmeet; a trollop) or string that cherries pop sum or is or *** wit lips? lush with tearful smaking? or is it honey that which drips?
0
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 3:22 AM UTC
Untitled
Of all the things that I could wish and hope for, I prayed to a god who I doubt and disappoint; begging for him to take me back in time, just so that I could unmeet you... for one last time, frankly, there isn't much that I wouldn't do, for this to all become true.
0
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
God's Time
do not lay me amongst thy hand (towar' heaven ascending) of earth stuff more come. come thy mouth as daughters; come thy slavering, come thy pistil keep. a flower, come. come as riotously fragrant Spring snowing easily with health. come, and, steal my soul for sleep; and place 'tween the knees of forests ***** bales of sighing wind. come in most unsilent clothed thy myriad of flesh. come and life unmeet thy thighs ,admitting, perhaps the lather(your colour) through me to seep.
0
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Untitled
sitting pale breasted lipped in certain opaque girlness hangs by mortal froth hair darkly a thousand thick and brutal firm (a table usually hangs over) thighs brushed gently akimbo lengths of drooling *** unmeet slowly (while you pretend to eat) and laughing divides rapidly your cheeks blundering with crimson by wetly fingers consumed
0
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
Untitled
I have these wishes that appear to never get fulfilled Not when I wanted to be happy, not when I wanted to be okay I wanna know why Why is it always like this because right now all I want and God knows how much I wish to unmeet you But then again, things would never be like this if I didn't And the worst part is I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing at all
0
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 8:49 AM UTC
(Un) granted
If I die, don't miss me cuz you didn't care to feed me when I cried the whole night on an empty stomach; because of you. If I die, don't miss me cuz when you had me, it was more of a deal where you loved me (in my eyes) only when I loved your life. If I die, don't miss me cuz conditions when unmet; the ones you had for us; forced you to "unmeet" me. If I die, don't miss me cuz I could never become your partner you needed and wanted but one who was just an emotional entertainment. If I die, don't miss me cuz you often left me alone in dark nights and gloomy days to cry my heart out missing you. If I die, don't miss me cuz may be we never fell in love and mostly, don't miss me cuz you don't, when you have me now.
0
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
You don't miss me now.
In this life you can meet someone and then unmeet them in the process of time. There will be days you will long for their presence, and days where you wished you never met them at all. In those paradoxes of life, I have found much meaning. That life is meant to be lived and that it meant to hurt. We are truly alive when we feel certain emotion, every emotion. Every ups and every down reminds us of living the life. That life is pretty and at the same time messed up, That there is beauty in sadness, and there is danger in too much happiness.
0
Oct 7, 2024
Oct 7, 2024 at 2:01 PM UTC
just realizing that
i. the first time I saw you, you sat on the floor at my house, I'd never met or seen you. You smiled and said my name, then my sister's. you seemed like the kind of person that belongs. that fits perfectly and can be held onto. ii. we were perfect, making merry and laughing at things it looked bright for the both of us. that first night, we promised each other that we could always work it out. no matter how rough it could ever get. if only we had seen us now. iii. you jeer at everything I do or say. according to you I am mean and unloving, disrespectful even. according to me you are selfish, mean, bad hearted, bad mannered, uncultured, disrespectful, childish, unforgiving, filled with anger and jealousy, not moral-ed ..... and all the things I shouldn't have ever met. iv. its because of people like you that unmeet buttons should have existed. Hate is a strong word, but sometimes I feel it when I think of you.
0
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
Continuation of an end
* ***No unmeet key in life, Of course resolving karma prioritizes...*** *
0
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
Unmeet....10words
I want to rub you up the right way I want to put a shot across your stern. I'll wait until it rains and then make hay, My bridges all are steel and shall not burn. These inverted phrases weave a past intent - To look back in blessing of our yet to be: You'll see me like Impatience on a Monument, To set my sight beyond the wood - to see one special tree. Then delve in sky to find your roots To make your fallen leaves breathe green anew. And know: untasted are the finest fruits - And only words that make no sense, are true. And so I end begin this pointless noteless song; I have objectives to unmeet, things not to do. I have lost all sense of right and left and wrong. There is only one truth I know, Love. And that is always… You
0
Apr 25, 2024
Apr 25, 2024 at 1:53 AM UTC
Turvey Topsy
*how yesterday overwhelmed me-- let's unmeet.*
0
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
Leaves
where your lips meet (unmeet) : there is day ; there is night .
0
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Untitled