"unpardonable" poems
I encourage you to abandon your faith
imagine the uncondonable
do the unpardonable
and rest in the arms of father mountain
I encourage you to go beyond your thoughts
appeal to your animalistic self
let go of your inhibitions
and tear me up in bed
I encourage you to try the impossible
reach the corners of your body
where pleasure is indigenous
where there will never be colonization
I encourage you to learn a new language
to not be patriotic
and worship your own flesh
resist majoritarian temptation
and dig an altar to yourself
I encourage you to love me
without strings, with no chains,
corral me, make me struggle,
and deep your soul within my veins
love me whole
sin fragmentations
love me across borders
without concessions
with negotiations
and complications
I encourage you to love.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
There's nothing worse on God's green earth
Than a woman with ultimate power
She'll time you when you sit on the throne
And it better not take an hour
Imagine if there was a Woman ******
Man would we be *******
You know, a woman who thinks she knows it all
But you would still swear she's a dude
A dinky little mustache beneath her nose
And a unibrow that looks like it's winkin'
I never noticed but the stubble on her chin
Kinda looks a little like Abraham Lincoln
This Woman ****** will change the world
And make slaves of all the men
She'd make a decloration that watching football
Would be the unpardonable sin
I bet you didn't know if you rearrange the letters
She's known to one and all
Just rearrange the letters in Woman ******
It's gonna spell Mother in law
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 3:34 PM UTC
******
A symbol of denial, congeniality, and assurance of love;
the fate of maternity, motherhood, that is witnessed
and cherished from afar.
From a sacred little haven;
from a struggle of motherly defense.
O ******
Temptations are to you never a bother,
in the tempests of lush dreams,
the draining of purity,
and veritable sensations.
Steadiness is your notion;
it barely leaves your mind
you may be deeply hurt
but never hurt,
you may be a stranger
but your grace is your power.
Truth that is unpardonable,
veraciousness at my simplest words,
clarity that is gleaming in your eye,
a token of pleasure but indestructible affection;
adorable as you are,
serenity is beyond question;
dreams are but inseparable from your docile life.
O ****** the sweetness and gentleness of thy eyes
are my irreplaceable silence,
my appraised soul,
and my most resolute
and irrepressible invocation.
O ****** one that is so rare a rose
Many as in the May-day dance are tainted;
marks of annoyance, omens of indulgence.
With hunger for nothing but moans;
unsober groans, and quickening breaths in paces of outward satisfaction;
intoxicated desires but unloving movements;
on the grounds for endless dancing;
there is the thirst for grips, the grossest of stateliness!
Voluptuous romance, perfidious touches, and
false-hearted toys!
In the wakeful dreams of which
I long for you, a handful of thy chastest kisses!
I pray for your hands, so delicate
as mine, how they shall fit into each other!
I long for your lips, your spotless, uncorrupted cheeks,
My demand is for your hands;
for sanity, and sincerest cordiality
Despite of my guilt and former unconsciousness
I shall amend my grief for you,
for you only,
for oureth perfect, unconquerable happiness,
and the union of our souls
in a day of holy matrimony.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:35 AM UTC
an unpardonable aberration
in possession of an adrenalized
dynamism of energy
which emerges
like that of the dirt on my face
but cannot hide
the strangulation of my hair
nor the red that fires my fingers
nor the desire or physical location
of my marvellous sexuality
or the ink that bleeds from my nose
when the excitement of creation
reaches its unmonitored theft
of psychophysical ************
of writing upon the page
those elusive words that once written
become an imagined ****** fantasy
blurred but cannot be retained
for the words must be free
free to be the poem, to be themselves
to be ourselves
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 11:29 PM UTC
If I could blame it all on the weather,
the snow like the cadaver's table,
the trees turned into knitting needles,
the ground as hard as a frozen haddock,
the pond wearing its mustache of frost.
If I could blame conditions on that,
if I could blame the hearts of strangers
striding muffled down the street,
or blame the dogs, every color,
sniffing each other
and ******* on the doorstep...
If I could blame the bosses
and the presidents for
their unpardonable songs...
If I could blame it on all
the mothers and fathers of the world,
they of the lessons, the pellets of power,
they of the love surrounding you like batter...
Blame it on God perhaps?
He of the first opening
that pushed us all into our first mistakes?
No, I'll blame it on Man
For Man is God
and man is eating the earth up
like a candy bar
and not one of them can be left alone with the ocean
for it is known he will gulp it all down.
The stars (possibly) are safe.
At least for the moment.
The stars are pears
that no one can reach,
even for a wedding.
Perhaps for a death.
1.7k
Once they were remembered
As beauteous blue-eyed angels
Who assiduously
Served the creator
Once thought of as the holy ones
Who shone the brightest
Free will and they chose evil
The fallen and their father
Whose actions
Gave way to torment
All the unpardonable sins
They committed
In the age
When atrocity prevailed
Now all they seek
Is retribution
Sparse and angry
Gliding in the skies
With rayless halos
And ruptured wings
Listen as God cries
At what has become
Of his creation.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
in the hall, I listen as she calls out
his name
not aware I am there,
nor would she care
if I open the door without making
a sound,
I purloin a few seconds to watch her
before she sees me
when her eyes catch mine,
she looks away
the morning sun makes a sympathetic effort
to light our room
"our" room which from which I have
been excommunicated
the drapes she sewed only last summer
are never open
that is her world, staring through
baby blue curtains
which mute the half light of morning,
though not enough
not enough to blind her to the spot
where her son's crib waited
until I committed the unpardonable
sin of taking it to the cold cellar
only a fortnight after our stillborn child
was placed in the ground
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
As the fire burns me alive, it feasts upon my skin
greedily ******* the oxygen from my lungs
I can feel the heat licking at my body
It started at my feet
But it won't stop there...
I can feel the Smoke filling me
With every gasp my weak body forces me to take
I'm given no choice
As the Smoke saunters into my airways
Slithers down my lungs
Down to the very last alveolus.
As the endless coughing begins, I ponder my actions
I think of what I did to deserve this
I know what I did
I sinned
An unpardonable sin
I was me
The flames continue, though I ignore them
Although the trepidation inside me burns just as badly.
I will not regret.
Why would I regret doing the only thing I was ever good at?
I was me.
I cannot beg for mercy
But I can stare into their eyes
Into their judgmental souls
I see what they do not:
They are not them.
Not a single person among them is true to self.
I smile
I breath in this staunch air, heavier than the blanket
of breathlessness that I've been enveloped in
for days now
Maybe years even
I'm sure
I think
A single tear tries to offer me one last aqueous solace
Before it withers in the heat
I still can't believe it all had to go this far
I cannot beg for mercy
I won't pretend I'm sorry
I won't let myself down
It's my turn now.
I will light the way.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
We have become a nation of Tennessee fainting goats,
muscles freezing in the panic of social discord,
poised on the cusp of dread, eyeing a mass grave.
In the end no one really dies, the only dilemma being unpardonable
poverty, needless hunger and children born with drug addiction,
pawns in a chess game of life lacking raison d'etre.
And shall I live my span leaving no mark upon history?
What occlusion obstructs human decency in this land of riches,
barricades the impassable gulf, as if echoing a distant waterfall?
I have walked this sidewalk to where it ends and seen the destitute.
How the poet in me shudders and like the fainting goat,
collapses in the sadness of our mutual story, our personal holocaust!
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 9:03 AM UTC
Once remembered as beauteous blue-eyed angels
Who assiduously served the creator
Now they curse him from the pits of their cold hearts
Once deemed the holy ones
Who shined the brightest
Free will and they chose evil over good
The greatest sin, unpardonable!
Defiance against heaven itself
The fallen and their father, the angel of light
Whose actions gave way to torment
Cast down from heaven down to the
earth
Unholy unions with humans they created and sired the nephilim
God descended upon them and brought the flood
Wiped out all of mankind from the face of the earth except for a few holy ones who weren't tainted
The fallen did not all perish
Some seeked refuge in the seas
They inhabit the waters as demons
Seeking retribution
With rayless halos and ruptured wings
They continue to sin
Polluting mankind
Come judgement day they will be cast down into hell into the eternal darkness
To melt in the sea of fire
For all eternity
They cannot be redeemed for their sins will remain
Listen as God cries at what has become of his creation
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 7:20 PM UTC
Dark places of the earth,
hearts of wild men
were all there,
guarding the door of Darkness.
Faithless pilgrims,
gand of virtue,
inspired uneasiness.
There is a taint of death
a flavor of morality
in this strange world.
Is it not frightful
all this energy was wasted
to the hidden evil
to the profound darkness
in its heart.
You lost your way,
the unpardonable sin,
evil or truth
black shadow of disease
inhabited devastation of
God-Forsaken wilderness.
Devil,
Devil of Greed,
Devil of Desires,
let an avenging fire consume
the earth.
(Cannibals)
How out of touch
a Fiend was in there.
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
When I was twenty-two years old,
I found out I was pregnant,
with my second child,
I went to my family for help,
but they turned their backs on me for help,
To them I had done the unpardonable sin,
by getting pregnant once again,
and this was because before I was married
and now I was divorced
and an ***** mother who did not
deserve her baby.
I had two sisters who could have cared for me,
but no they both took a stab at me,
and ruined my life for me and helped
the state to take my baby away from me.
My daughter was placed into foster care
and take care by strangers and then she was placed into
an adoptive home with adoptive parents who could not
love her as much as me
and from them she hear they wished they never had
adopted her because of mental illness she had inherited
from her real family.
My daughter today is thirty two years of age,
she is loss to me and she has cut me off
from her because she will not listen to me.
All I can do is pray that one day before it is too late that
she will return to me.
This is because I love her unconditionally and
have no regrets that I gave birth to her thirty two
years ago.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 6:39 PM UTC
Dark places of the earth,
hearts of wild men
were all there,
guarding the door of Darkness.
Faithless pilgrims,
gand of virtue,
inspired uneasiness.
There is a taint of death
a flavor of morality
in this strange world.
Is it not frightful
all this energy was wasted
to the hidden evil
to the profound darkness
in its heart.
You lost your way,
the unpardonable sin,
evil or truth
black shadow of disease
inhabited devastation of
God-Forsaken wilderness.
Devil,
Devil of Greed,
Devil of Desires,
let an avenging fire consume
the earth.
(Cannibals)
How out of touch
a Fiend was in there.
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
Surrogate thoughts on unpardonable parchment / A counterfeit of reason / The Bastion of idiocy/
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 5:48 PM UTC
Though I’m no thief - officially,
I did steal - and that was recently,
seizing a golden opportunity
as a moment of greed overtook me!
Oh woe is me!
I have no excuse for what I did,
my conscience was asleep or hid:
with no reason except - heaven forbid,
sensing the moment ripe. I did!
Oh woe is me!
I make no excuses for my transgression:
or say it was nothing but obsession,
but please, exercise a degree of discretion,
when reading this public confession.
Oh woe is me!
When judging me, espouse no platitude,
rectitude, or ‘holier than thou’ attitude,
but by granting me a degree of latitude,
you’ll receive my everlasting gratitude.
Oh woe is me!
Though without prior intent to steal,
having the chance to think, and feel
the opportunity was there, my zeal
overcame my conscience’s appeal.
Oh woe is me!
You may well ask for a reason why
I allowed myself to steal? I’ll not lie!
It was a moment which, in the by and by,
was perfectly opportune, and why I cry:
Oh woe is me!
Admittedly, the timing was prime.
Even so it was an unpardonable crime,
with effects affecting me, for a long time,
so I feel neither secure nor sublime!
Oh woe is me!
I no longer think it a minor infraction,
so a confession is my chosen action.
Taken to absolve myself, there’s no retraction
of this statement: no matter what the reaction!
Oh woe is me!
What may be the effect of my sinful intent:
or what may be considered just punishment,
by those who sit in righteous judgement
upon my fall from grace? Never meant!
Oh woe is me!
My sin? I stole some ‘Time’ to write this verse!
Should you consider it bad, or even worse,
I must live with the knowledge this was a curse
to steal, even for reasons deviously perverse!
Oh woe is me!
I had an urgent need to write this rhyme,
on which I have spent the stolen “time”!
Perhaps you thought it a more heinous crime?
If so? Shame on you! You’re no paradigm!
I declare: Oh woe is thee!
Rhymer. June 16th, 2018.
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 7:09 AM UTC
When they see you and guy a-walking,
They call it courtship;
When they see you and a guy a-talking,
They pass knowing smiles and well-meaning quips.
When both of you are a-quarrelling,
They say that the rough must come with the smooth;
Before long, one is a-sorrowing –
Not for the row (as they think) but over a lost tooth.
And then both of you stop seeing each other,
They think it such an unpardonable crime;
All that time trying to bring you together…
‘Tis a shame the wedding bells are ne’er to chime.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 3:30 AM UTC
Heal the world with your magical touch O Savior,
Your supreme creation has become tired and ill.
For the sake of the old and the new
You come down,we have become weak.
We realised our wrongdoings as we have darkened your blue sky..
We choked your mighty oceans with plastics.
We filled your pure air with toxic fumes
We made your green world barren
Now we deserve to be rebuked
We are your transgressor
Our mistakes are unpardonable
Our sins are grave
But O Lord!
We need your forgiveness for those who have done good,
Sheltered the needy and saved the sick and offered food.
We need you for those who are born today
We need you for the mankind to stay.
Come down O Krishna in any form as we are in deep pain,
Come down ... O bountiful we need you again!!
Bina Mukherjee
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 1:30 AM UTC
Remember to keep walking, one foot in front of the other swiftly before they know you've left.
When you speak do not mouth the secretive mouthful, vain.
When you speak do not taste the vinegar coated words of your mother's pain.
Do not verbalize the syllable stitching your every idea together, you must maintain your body a simple shadow.
The temptation of your very own purple glossed nail,
The black sludge that lay inside your chest prohibited from moving but still steadily enveloping each cracking,decrepit bone and useless muscle given the smallest second guess.
Dead on arrival you were but out with a bang; your throat holds one, two, three, four, five, six, seven blue finger prints that scream second best.
The unpardonable, aforementioned
Black sludge begging to leak out of all orifice's including your chapped lips -
Inevitably- will.
Cotton Candy sugar coated words and polite smiles beg not to be but are a continuous parade of premeditated happiness in a room that is filled.
When you speak dehumanize the thought process or you will surely stumble over misspoken words the way you tumble over the top step in a drunken stupor every Tuesday morning.
Determine through a handful of restless eyes the other flight risks competing with the sheep of the room who's uniform reply to your greeting may always be, "I've been alright."
Do not let on of the train derailing the tracks of the already unstable minds,
Do not let on of the shark toothed thoughts that bounce from cell to cell until complete consumption of the brain because you will then surely be left behind.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 12:59 AM UTC
What sins have we committed, what unpardonable crime
To have brought such desolation to this once fertile plain?
(The only time we’ve ever known has been this burlap time.)
We receive no epiphanies, no glimpse of the sublime;
Just great black walls of dust and grime again and yet again.
What sins have we committed, what unpardonable crime?
The wind and dirt makes madness of our days and our nighttime
For reasons that our governors and preachers can’t explain.
(The only time we’ve ever known has been this burlap time.)
We’ve topped the dead with crosses, covered dead stock with lime.
From whom should we seek redress,to whom do we complain?
What sins have we committed, what unpardonable crime?
And so we’re left this Sisyphean peak to try and climb;
There’s no rainfall to save the crops, no cash to purchase grain
(The only time we’ve ever known has been this burlap time.)
We’ve lost interest in the answers, the reason or the rhyme;
God has, it seems, forsaken us, has forsaken the rain
What sins have we committed, what unpardonable crime?
(The only time we’ve ever known has been this burlap time.)
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
Tonight, the full moon looks so beautiful
that I am crying. I have lapsed on my knees,
the pulp of every love- shared. subscribed- streams
through follicles of unpardonable zest.
Nobody should know, but they end up aware
of the malpractical jingling pulling us
into the cartoon turbine that wants us first,
into the scratched longing poised in our collars.
Nobody should know, but they end up aware
of the unplanned lobotomy of wrong-
with opaque grunting, sure, maybe,
the necklaced ash-bath, the causal antibiotic for dummies
who dream about a bite instead of the consequence
of our bodies.
There's a full moon, and nobody should miss
on the engine-knock of our throat;
we've not loved for a while, but we still hug warmly
before we leave, smile at the odor of food,
spill it like the children we have never hated or loved but were,
clean up like the hankies we became.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 11:02 AM UTC