"unrest" poems
Picked up and dragged through the air of violent twilight.
Crash landing into each world of pain.
Grow up; learn up she told herself.
Red lipstick, tight dress; bad girl good. Unrested she was, she was unrest.
Unrest in her mind, unrest in distress.
That girl was nocturnal,
her life was night.
Although star & moons glared,
reluctantly lit,
her blue skies were none but bottomless pits.
Duck duck GOOSE, once a child without care;
I choose YOU, life spitefully said.
GROW UP; LEARN UP, she scolded herself.
Keep your head up, keep it down.
Too much air, too much water,
too much CONSCIOUSNESS.
Low then high then low again.
One minute was 60,
but she blinked and it was over.
So much time was so little.
Disregarded, she became the Object of obsession.
Danced too fast, danced too slow;
never by the beat of her heart.
Chaos!
Calamity!
Joy!
Insanity!
GROW UP, LEARN UP; she forgot herself.
The madness before the storm,
the storm of never-end.
She had to grow up, she had to learn up.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 9:01 AM UTC
Lost is the African pride
Gone are those who could ride the tide
Left are those who drown beneath the wave
Prone to dehumanization because of greed
I see burning buildings
Mutilated bodies
Escalating violence
And social unrest
Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu
Left is a society deprived of its integrity
Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society
Is the real Africa lost to antiquity?
Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life.
A decent life earned through decadence
Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment?
Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard?
I am ashamed of the profanity we breed
It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic
It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland.
It’s not who they are.
It’s not who we are
It’s not who you are
It’s not who I am
Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade
The Africa that has survived apartheid
The Africa that has survived colonization
The Africa that is surviving westernization
We don’t fight for employment
We create employment
We don’t breed resentment
We translate sentiments
Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s behave like men not animals
Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s stand like men immortal
The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals
Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa
It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical
Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa
Animosity is not our portion
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
Escape pods
Ferried fears
Gaping heart
Falling tears
Dishevelled mind
Emotional unrest
Watered ground
Familiar guest
Questioned answers
Unanswered questions
Glassy eyes
Increased tension
Dissipating hope
Chewed confidence
Broken spirit
Unwelcomed sentence
Failing health
Unstable mind
Choked fingers
Flying blind
Pathetic plea
Stretched thin
Battered insides
Uncomfortable skin
Eventual stop
Frightful frights
Perceived freedom
Within sight
Bruised being
Absent gods
Relying upon
Escape pods
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
Power is indeed a corruptive force,
Through all of mankind’s history
This has always been true.
Emperors, Kings, Potentates,
Popes, Presidents and Despots too.
Gathering near the Throne are the
Eager Courtier leeches reaching to
touch the anointed one’s robe.
Declaring their undying loyalty,
In the process selling their souls.
Their rewards, a speck of personal power,
Castles and new riches of gold.
Like their Master, the entitled ones
will lie and cheat, while ignoring
The principals of right and good.
Believing “Decency” is but a
poor man’s word, Never uttered
within the hearing of the Ruler.
Never a considered artifact of
absolute power.
The slaves, serfs, the common people
Matter not, but to serve the Ruler.
The power elite will start needless wars,
or offer up sacrificial lambs, all to distract
the unrest of the common man.
They will suppress human rights,
free speech and defame, banish
or imprison their detractors.
All merely smoke and mirrors to conceal,
Controlling agendas of personal greed.
From ancient times down to today
This cycle repeats. Now we are living
our own Textbooks history of tomorrow.
Kingdoms and Nations have perished
From this kind of poisonous corruption,
Needless to say, it will happen again.
Perhaps it already is.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
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Scattering sweet fragrance throughout soft air
Perfection at heaven’s finest
Remembrance paints one soul a flare
Calmly soothing
My unrest
Despite all the changes time has made
Sweet fragrance sings to me
In all my dreams a pleasing promenade
Evokes a kiss of
Fragrant potpourri
A medley dances within my senses fine
Of sweet nights with you
Scattering fragrance throughout my mind
Painting my soul
Anew
This sweet fragrance has no beginning
Each kiss begins endlessly
Dances within my senses softly awakening
This fire inside
So heavenly
Oct 15, 2010
Oct 15, 2010 at 2:39 AM UTC
Are you misunderstod?
You are misunderstood!
Are you misunderstood?
You are spiritually touched, in tune with oneself,
yours roots are solid for which you still call.
Are you misunderstood by others, by many, not all?
Why then hide behind a persona as she walks before you?
Hurry up, catch up...
becoming closer to within, almost connected, an old friend, soon to be whole, a reunited soul.
Are you misunderstood?
You are very powerful, more powerful perhaps than even you may realise,
restrained slightly by anquish, may civil unrest be put to sleep, may the cracks reside.
You are misunderstood?
Though as you have seen, tainted through life your heart is pure,
untarnished as it always has been but there,
like an invisible curse,
for it is just your mind ie, other peoples minds in which your aura walks first.
Are you misunderstood?
You are only now becoming who you are, who you already are,
who you have always been, who you were always meant to be,
dont you see, free, free of tense,
free from any external force bearing influence.
For right now, you are not misunderstood!
For right now, you are the most important woman in the world,
yet in the same breath you are irrelevant and not the most important woman in the world
Your desires and aspirations now second, instinctively, to your child and your world.
They are now your universe, the flower in your palm,
May you blossom together, forever, as one.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
*She was way too tough for me.
no it's more I was not hard enough for her.
The old ***** brick houses
of Englands industrial north
caught between industrial revolution
and social unrest .
I was just a youth back then.
The big war fading from memory.
I stopped at my friend's back yard
it was a hot summer back then.
His souped up bike was gleaming
like a prize racehorse.
She pulled a flask of *****
and took a long pull
her bright red hair
like glowing coal
her eyes as black as darkness
she was hard pretty.
Her mini skirt flashing
her shaply legs.
a stray dog big and hard
just like her.
jumped up and licked her face.
she Laughed
they were like two
kindred spirits
like sisters by nature
wild and drifting and free.
She had *** with me
the first time I met her
and told me I was not
rough enough for her.
I just was a bit scared
of telling her
I wanted out of it.
The kick-started bike roared
like the steel lion it was.
She squealed in delight.
then the stray dog peed
on the concrete.
she lifted her skirts
like the hard ***** she was
and peed next to it.
she jumped on the back
of his bike and they
went off at full speed.
To test his bike out
at the racetrack.
I hear they shacked up together.
and we're very happy.
I dated a nerdy young woman
quiet and conservative
who became a librarian.
We got married
four years later.
had two kids
and a housetrained dog.
She never once told me
I was not rough enough in bed.*
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
The full sea rolls and thunders
In glory and in glee.
O, bury me not in the senseless earth
But in the living sea!
Ay, bury me where it surges
A thousand miles from shore,
And in its brotherly unrest
I'll range for evermore.
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Peer pressure, peer pressure
My name is peer pressure,
My father is doubt,
My mother is duress,
My sister is bad choices,
My brother is nervous energy
I was born in a cyclone of negativity
Whipping through an ocean of people
They're the tribe of the unrest
I know im extremely unwanted
But im here anyways at all times
Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name
No one is immune from me
Neither the young, the teen nor the old
I'm evil
I wreak havoc and strife
To the human race
I ruin people's lives
First,
I offer illusions of enjoyment
And pleasure to them
Till when
I take their greatest
Treasure
Till when
I see them departing
From all that is correct
Till when
No more goodness nor kindness
Is detected from them
Till when
Their morals and goodness
Have gone into decay
Till when
I see their senses sedated
And all their energy depleted
Till when
I see them
F
A
L
T
E
R
I
N
G
Till when
I see tears of regrets
Turn into cries of despair
Till when
I see there is nobody
They can turn unto
Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name
Those who grant me to their lives,
I make sure i become
A silhouette of lies to their lives
Till when
They're always
M-i-n-e
Frozen in time
Hopeless forever
Till when
I see them
Completely gone astray
Furthermore,
Pile on the agony
For that is pleasing
To my father Satan
B
E
N
E
A
T
H
Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name
"Alas!" Beware when making me your friend
Because i might end up
D
R
A
G
G
I
N
G
You to self destruction.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
An exchange of temptations that led to a hidden ordeal
On an act of carnal ecstasy made to seal a deal
The gamble to see if it’s worth lending a piece of the soul
While trembling inside for the choices that would soon take toll
The signs of deceit slowly surfaced but were shrugged despite suspicion
Until a hasty flight provoked inner unrest and affliction
Vivid memories of a previous torment come back haunting
Knowing full well the Succubus affinity for betraying
With logic and reason as both weapon and armor
Against an enemy not easily made for capture
Bargaining on a final bet that her grip be brought to nothing
To release the mind from seemingly rotting
The bargain commenced along with foreseen treason
The sought peace only a hollow victory in a silently echoing frustration
In total silence with a feeling that heavily burned
A mental wall built to signify the lesson learned
Screams of pain of the innards locked away in reticence
Occurring to just seemingly mock the brilliance
With great resolve brought by the treachery writhing in virulence
Came the vigilance of avoiding such penitence
And to never again taste the Succubus’ Sting in Silence
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 9:09 PM UTC
What the hell is the term “sparkling eyes” even referring to? The widening of one’s eyelids? The dilation of the pupils? Or maybe it’s meant to be ambiguous to fully credit the effect of the magical phrase. But when she looked at me her eyes didn't sparkle. They darkened. And the way she looked at me, with her eyes filled with danger sent my soul in spirals, for I could feel an unbearable amount of unrest within my blood. And at that very moment I found myself walking towards her. I walked, blinded by her dark eyes, towards the oblivion until I asked her name, “Sara,” she hollered. Of course she hollered. It was very unusual, just like her entire persona.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
I dance out my anger in the name of the priestess,
draw in her power to extinguish my unrest.
I worship my body in a state of undress,
let my rage break free in radical protest.
I surrender myself to this sacred process,
stomping my feet like an unbridled tempest.
Aug 26, 2022
Aug 26, 2022 at 3:34 AM UTC
You will always be to me,
Surrounded by a dark, black, flowing sea –
Its waves and textures enticing me.
For I, a sailor so obsessed,
My fascination with your ocean in unrest,
Has me completely possessed.
In a beauty so limitless,
From its roots to its depths.
I drown in it fearless –
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 2:02 PM UTC
So many colorful shards,
so many scattered books,
my Father left behind.
He connected the dots
with me, in space and time,
listening to the wind
when it was raining.
Absent and so close,
he used to say:
“Listen to what’s on the ground.
See what lifts us at night
when the birds go silent.”
He gave me more unrest,
he was the left hand
forced to write
with the right.
He believed in me
when the system
sent me away,
dismissed me.
He had hope
without medals,
standing steadfast
in the last row.
Now the body crumbles.
There is a memory
full of holes.
A counting echo—
he remembers,
he doesn’t,
it’s fine,
still hard
but his voice lives…
Time is blending
into a rusted chain
of events.
Tenderness,
resistance
to the falling apart
of departure.
He won’t come back.
He won’t recover.
The body is warm,
life doesn’t want to escape
the shrinking shell.
Sharp words cut helplessness.
Many nights still come
until the final return
to the embryonic state,
to point zero.
I am here,
into this deep night
being the witness to breath,
awake in the dark gentleness.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 8:05 PM UTC
.
•unchain me from unrest•
shovel me out of the dirt•
une- arth
my conge- sted chest•
let my secrets blurt•
let them
spill.....•
just for
the wor-
ld to see
•..string
me up...
..against
my will
•harvest
the fruits
of the bi-
tter tree•
let eyes
see what
will show
•...let feet
be caught
in stubbo-
rn mud...•
let prying minds be baffled.....by
what they would come to know
•...let wanting hearts choke...on
the dirges of my stale blood....•
now dig me up quickly•'cause
it's been far too long..... and i
have been readied•exhume
all of me completely•for
no longer should i
remain as........
buried•
.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
#they say love is blind
some speak of it’s weakness
lack of existence
turmoiling persistence
oh how they’re wrong
i’ve seen what it does, felt it's affliction
falling in love, you can’t choose your conviction
***love isn't just blind
it's deaf and so mute***
your words, how they echo
the feel of unrest
i will always remember you, as nothing but best
your memory won't taint
your image, clean, so pure
the meticulous thoughts, and prominent words
things you said, and phrases unspoken
your hesitation and pride
the look in your eyes
the expressive emotion
all led to my demise
i tried moving on
clearly, it failed
i'll never feel free
save yourself, leave me be.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
There’s an assembly in the making
and the suits are all shuffling in for the big event
making way to their front row seats
****** in nose
hanky in hand
and all colorfully draped
in those cuffed pin stripes
and Jerry Garcia ties
*now what would the Grateful Dead
or any of their fine entourage
have to say about this foul routine?*
Apropos of that
they’re talking in the 3rd person
with tight syllables
and wavy hands
and all taking a run
at the state of the union
there’s Valentino
and Freddie
and good old Sal
"look....their fiddling with their nuts!"
cries a layman from the balcony seats
the Yin and the Yang
have got even the most liberal minded
scratching their heads
as questions fly in from the field:
*don’t you know the way it used to be?
have you no morals?
which way to the exit!?*
These front row fanatics
have surely been scrimmaging
in the corn fields
all down in that classic 3 point
watching their weight
with sample selections from the
Spicy House and Yaas Bazaar
as members of the congregation look on with envy
*pass the aperitif...the big ***** lady is on deck!*
Union heads are running rogue
loading up on grievances
and lines
passing files at a make shift pew
jumping the bunkers
and stepping on clams
while the orderlies move in
for governance
It’s a bewildered state
and only for the mind of the rigorous
Jimmy D would say:
“it’s nothing you pussy...to the victor goes the spoils!
everyone has a bit of good you know...
you just have to find it!"
Unrest is growing in the ranks
and the masses are unstable
Time to hammer down
with a formidable brace
and two tick play
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 8:05 PM UTC
In these rapid, restless shadows,
Once I walked at eventide,
When a gentle, silent maiden,
Walked in beauty at my side.
She alone there walked beside me
All in beauty, like a bride.
Pallidly the moon was shining
On the dewy meadows nigh;
On the silvery, silent rivers,
On the mountains far and high,—
On the ocean’s star-lit waters,
Where the winds a-weary die.
Slowly, silently we wandered
From the open cottage door,
Underneath the elm’s long branches
To the pavement bending o’er;
Underneath the mossy willow
And the dying sycamore.
With the myriad stars in beauty
All bedight, the heavens were seen,
Radiant hopes were bright around me,
Like the light of stars serene;
Like the mellow midnight splendor
Of the Night’s irradiate queen.
Audibly the elm-leaves whispered
Peaceful, pleasant melodies,
Like the distant murmured music
Of unquiet, lovely seas;
While the winds were hushed in slumber
In the fragrant flowers and trees.
Wondrous and unwonted beauty
Still adorning all did seem,
While I told my love in fables
’Neath the willows by the stream;
Would the heart have kept unspoken
Love that was its rarest dream!
Instantly away we wandered
In the shadowy twilight tide,
She, the silent, scornful maiden,
Walking calmly at my side,
With a step serene and stately,
All in beauty, all in pride.
Vacantly I walked beside her.
On the earth mine eyes were cast;
Swift and keen there came unto me
Bitter memories of the past—
On me, like the rain in Autumn
On the dead leaves, cold and fast.
Underneath the elms we parted,
By the lowly cottage door;
One brief word alone was uttered—
Never on our lips before;
And away I walked forlornly,
Broken-hearted evermore.
Slowly, silently I loitered,
Homeward, in the night, alone;
Sudden anguish bound my spirit,
That my youth had never known;
Wild unrest, like that which cometh
When the Night’s first dream hath flown.
Now, to me the elm-leaves whisper
Mad, discordant melodies,
And keen melodies like shadows
Haunt the moaning willow trees,
And the sycamores with laughter
Mock me in the nightly breeze.
Sad and pale the Autumn moonlight
Through the sighing foliage streams;
And each morning, midnight shadow,
Shadow of my sorrow seems;
Strive, O heart, forget thine idol!
And, O soul, forget thy dreams!
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I find peace
I find solace
I find comfort
In the arms
Of a cold, icy night.
My face unfolding the crease
That it wears all day long
But cringing underneath
At the thought of sticks and stones
Ringing like a disturbing song.
I find love
In the whispers of the wind.
I find desire
In the darkness of the sky.
The eerie silence
It brings me hope.
I day dream
In the darkest hours
Right before dawn,
Because I know not
What deep sleep means anymore.
I see colours
I see red I see blue
I see black I see truth.
When the moon comes out
And stars, they flicker
Being surrounded by fallen angels
Sending out dreamy gazes
Giving me more might
Than the brightest summer day will ever.
Within myself I shout
I let out my unrest inside, alone.
I don't just love the night,
I connect with it.
I have no inhibitions
The night makes life worth living.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
I hate my personality.
I don't have a personality
That cultivates relationships.
No,
My personality leads to anguish -
Insecurity.
If I could,
For once,
Harvest a bit of
Silence in my brain -
I'd love that.
I hate to feel anxiety;
Fear of abandonment;
Insecurity;
Obscurity;
I hate to feel what I feel.
What's worse,
I can't find elegant words
To describe it.
Leaving me mute,
People assume things about me,
Making my efforts moot.
Friends think I'm overbearing;
Demanding.
Romances think I don't trust them;
That I'm too controlling,
Insecure;
Dependent;
Too moody;
Too possessive.
My personality makes people leave me.
I'm too touchy -
Too hard to love or understand.
People see me,
And expect me to freak out,
Or to demand attention.
Well this is my account -
Because when you are on
The borderline,
It's easy to see
That the grass is greener
On either side -
But for others,
You seem polarized.
I'm not happy with how my brain works.
I don't want to be the way I am.
I don't want to make sure people are
Thinking about me...
And then feel guilty or angry when they don't,
Or can't.
I hate my personality.
I hate who I am.
It causes me to never feel comfort,
And my unrest has left me
An insomniac for too long.
Now,
I just want to rest.
But,
It's hard to sleep when you're alone
And afraid of the dark.
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 3:09 PM UTC
I don't know what you could call this exactly,
I was at a musical concert in one of the states
And a school filled with children of less than 13 years of age
Presented a song which I could call a petition.
They were praying earnestly for God to save Nigeria
From lawless people, bloodshed, assassination and a list of other wreckless things
It touched me that finally, it has gotten to this! When children start to file a petition to God against our leaders saying for their sake God should save the nation
It's a bit disturbing that even the kids know that there is a problem with this nation.
Do we have to ridicule ourselves forever? The children who were in the ***** and groins some years back have come to understand the situation and are crying out.
The educational standard is falling to pieces and the threads would have to be carefully woven together if we wanna make something out of it again.
It's embarrassing to know that there are so many sectors that has failed, absolutely nothing is working.
Our leaders still apportion blame. Roads are not good and then you get to hear one is a federal road one is state owned. Does it matter who owns the road if it is in their country?
Why aren't everyone looking beyond their noses and see what's wrong. Our youths have resolved to fraud when hard work and talents aren't appreciated.
Universities have been shut down for months now in the name of strike and the government officials could afford to eat and carry on their daily activities!
Aren't they meant to be in the hospital, complaining of one illness or the other as a result of the unrest the matter has caused? Disheartening! Even the hospitals go on strike and innocent people are left to die as a result of no medical attention.
I was moved to tears when these children sang. The nation's unrest and matters have become prayer points in all places of worship. God should indeed look down from His throne, have mercy on us and save Nigeria!
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC