"unrevealed" poems
~weary weighted~
flummoxed are the sea watchers;
the long rhythms of sea change reveal only minor modesties,
difficult discerned are the tidal subtleties
though repetitive thrashing extracts it toll,
only the weary-weighted see the true meaning of the beating,
knowing full well,
it beats for them
recalling their early day’d fascination with its endless chaining,
now knowing all are similar
detained-chained,
and the ******* churning but a cover up masque,
they need not longer conceal,
an unrevealed confess:
water is heavy-weighted, you cannot forever float,
constancy is of a thing to be wary,
its sadder longevity,
a chipping away erosion of wearing,
*‘tis is the knelling noise of sad respite,
an unlight lighthouse*
~for Victoria, a year later~
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
1088
Ended, ere it begun—
The Title was scarcely told
When the Preface perished from Consciousness
The Story, unrevealed—
Had it been mine, to print!
Had it been yours, to read!
That it was not Our privilege
The interdict of God—
5.7k
Wrote this eons ago, tonight, once more,
spend some human capital, editing...
Something to think about
as we tuck ourselves in.
the young'uns keep on asking me for tips,
secrets, to this art, magical poetry gig,
as if I had any left unrevealed.
recalled this old'n,
from a vintage poetry year,
as a suggestion,
a stating-starting place,
for young poets:
do not self-chain,
let the words take you
where
they lead, write them up
for the rhyme is waiting,
in the heart chest deep down,
not on the screen.
I read you Goodnight Moon,
Falling asleep beside you.
<•>
People stop rhyming...
When first you overcome your fears,
And dare to put on paper your tears,
Give it up, set yourself free from the shackles,
Of thinking a rhyme is a necessity for a
Rooting tooting writing of a
**** good poem
or a barrel of
crackles
If you feel lost,
Want to share the cost,
Feel not bossed,
By a newbie's need
to believe that if it rhymes
Everyone will like your poem
Just fine
And if you get past this stage,
And advance to the next page,
Do not think that writing down a sentence of
Your mind's first up, innermost thoughts,
Is something that will make you
Less lost, heralded, worthy of a parade,
And be blessed with an A
In your Teacher's pet grade book
My heart broke.
I feel bad.
I feel sad
Cause my man/woman left me
And I hope
Someone kicks his or her ***
That Ain't No Poem Neither...
And if you can't help but complain repeatedly
How life ***** and you're feeling blue
extremely indiscreetly,
Don't make me try on your scribblings
intimately indiscriminately,
Read a million, even wrote a few myself
You think you can write?
Then employ a word outside your comfort zone,
Go it alone,
Write just four sentences that will make
The hopeful reader stand up and you,
Twice as much, and shout
**Hallelujah *******
Work. Poetry is work. Hard work.
Don't fret. But, think on it.
Let it come easy, then let it rest,.
Then spend days editing every comma,
And when you love it so much,
You are chest busting bursting,
Why have you not pressed Send already?
Have the sweetest dreams.
In the morning, when you but awake,
A poem will be aborning in thy mind,
And dare I say it, you will find a new freedom
In free verse.
(I know you will slip in a rhyme or two,
I can't help but do it too)
G' nite!
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC
Attention pivoted on the farthest
Blurry are the things at hand
The horizon seems reachable
Near ones distances themselves further
Clarion call from beyond the realm
Here, the soul is writhing in anonymity
A void, that threatens to engulf the known
Uncertainties of the realization is real
Heart is anchored here with situation
Yet, the world beckons this soul
The traveler yearns to break loose
The farthest seems logical and reachable
Distance will be traversed through unrevealed
Journey holds key to reach the destination
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 8:32 AM UTC
i.
Society keepeth their amour' in a box
Hidden, unrevealed, secretive, locked;
Me and mine Jane, shalt be open as a flame,
As on mine knee's I peck upon her toe's;
Again and again.
ii.
In the midday hour's when her back and neck get's sore
Mine fingertip's shalt caresseth her epidermis;
With sultry emollient, from her head to her feet.
I rubbeth in deep, as tis she shalt falleth asleep
As the best massage she's ever hadst,
Put's her into a trance in mine hold:
In peace she slumbereth,
Into a romantic kingdom
Stacked with ourn affection's gold.
iii.
Over an hour-plus thirty minute's,
Mine sweaty Palm's art tender;
Though it was all worth it
To mine queen mine soul surrendered;
Entering in her shuteye, I entered in locking ourn leg's, head's, arm's: closely cuddling-pillow's feathered.
Here at this moment, nothing else in the world mattered.
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
Mona Lisa, of Louvre,
in simplest words,
an angelic, of beauty.
Her enigmatic smiles,
so mystical, like
bewitching, yet heavenly
as I and you,
felt her, so alive,
left a mystery of,
unrevealed,
Da Vinci's Perfections.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
Composing Hallelujah
Fractious lines crack,
holiday decorate the spirit inferior,
while each note upon the priest's guitar
penetrates the aspirin roughened interior,
face slaps me, daggers and accuses,
you're not composing hallelujah.
So I mislead, big deal,
composing the anti-hallelujah,
yeah, I was ******** with you,
as you sit across from me electronically
pretending, me to you, you to me.
Lie to each other with smiling faces,
you too have reaped,
been emotionally *****
by what our minds see and sow,
scowls and howls,
we've both grown our own demons.
My secrets, maybe are all there,
maybe, writ loud and clear,
in the songs I choose to share,
and in the unrevealed ones,
buried alive, held in reserve,
but not, for your average, rainy day,
could be today, you have no say.
Are we not all veterans of a kind,
don't we all have ribbons on our chest,
stripes and stars on our khaki blouse,
a record of our own great campaigns,
including the war to end all wars,
the never ending one,
the one the psycho-historians renamed,
"The 24/7 Year Conflagration"?
It used to be just my secret, no more
don't need a cartoonist to tell me that's
the enemy is us, and there are moles, traitors,
hidden deep in our intelligence organization,
planting seeds, urges, pushing to
out the identity of our communist friend,
Depression
I don't mean the ordinary, garden variety,
a mere moody blues recession,
when funk is sourced from gray clouds,
served up proper, cold and wet,
then travels on when sun warmth
clarifies temporarily, the aspirin kicking in.
So I misled,
composing the anti-hallelujah,
yeah, I was ******** with you,
sit across from me and lie to me,
lie to each other with smiling faces
we reap what we own,
scowls and howls.
A chorus of harmonious poseurs
inside your own City Center,
vocalize the lyrics of the anti-hallelujah,
a composition of questions directed at
whomever in tonight's audience deserves it,
asking, nerving, to sing too loud, at decibel speed:
Are these verses, curses
about D,
our mutual acquaintance,
or just research notes for further followup,
part two of a pas de deux, and,
did you go this time, too far,
or still not far enough?
-
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
Your face says otherwise,
And you say that you are not beautiful,
I will go with my observation.
Yet unrevealed this face,
Appears to be angelic it does not at all,
I have seen you in my vision.
The face seems sculpted in paradise.
But it will take a genuine heart,
Not a beautiful face to win mine.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 7:37 AM UTC
I'm singing a song from back in the old day
I'm singing the song of today
'Cuz time never changes with nothing unrevealed
No matter what they say, time is grey
I live in a society just as all the other ones
I live in the cultures of today,
Cuz time never changes with nothing old or new
No matter what they say, time is grey
I'm calling on a God, the one from forever ago
I'm calling on the God of today
'Cus God never changes, (while) traditions have their phases
No matter what they say, time is grey
I'm fighting a war that was fought many years before
I'm fighting the war of today
'Cuz war never changes, just a day with different faces
No matter what they say, time is grey
I'm dying a death, no surprise we'll all forget
I'm dying the death of today
'Cuz death never changes, with us stands be still
No matter what they say, time is grey
I'm singing a song from back in the old day
I'm singing the song of today
'Cuz time never changes with nothing unrevealed
No matter what they say, time is grey
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 1:54 AM UTC
I often wonder
Who I really am
How so much has changed
Over the years
But one question
Still lingers in my heart
Why...
I have many friends
Just like me
But not quite me
Even they wonder the same
Why...
I felt I was diffrent
I felt so out of place
I felt something was missing
There is an eternal void
Why...
She gave me away
And I dont know why
So many questions
The answers I may never find
God put me here
For reasons still unrevealed
Until he shows me
I may never know.
It is hard being adopted
With questions unanswered
But something wonderful
Always makes me smile
I would never
Have
What I have now
If it wasnt for the adoption
I have a wonderful
Loving
Protective
Tight knit family
I call my own.
I have three children
Whom I love and protect with my life.
My parents
Whom
At times
Do tend to
Get on my last nerve
With the lectures
But deep down
I know they love me
They love me
The best they can
This is my legacy
This is who I am..
I am an adopted child
And im grateful
My family is apart of
My adopted legacy.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
I can't be patient for any longer because I've been waiting for too long
Everything I've ever done feels worthless and like a disaster
I don't know who will love me when things get bad
Because things are bad
And the people that I need the most are too far away or too consumed to notice
To notice that I'm drowning in a sea of misery and paranoia
My breaths have become shorter and my pupils are dilated
I gaze into other people's eyes and I see nothing
A long time ago, I made a conscious decision to see nothing
And now I'm blind
But with blindness comes increase sensitivity of my other senses
So now my tears fall down my face and they feel like acid on my skin
Every whisper falls into...
This isn't living
This isn't life
Because life happens and this is something else
This is bigger than me
This is something that will still hover over my head when I wake up
And it will haunt me till I go to sleep
The worst part is that I don't know how to effectively cope
With everything life has bestowed upon me
So I'm left on the curb
Staring at a finish line
And I'm paralyzed
I'm alone with the thoughts and the voices that brought me to this state of recklessness
This state of unrevealed truth and blanketed wounds
My feelings aren't gone because I chose to share them
Shared they were, but only two people recognized the cry for help
I was transparent and found
But we're all too lost
And I'm too broken to win another battle
Weight is on my chest and I'm bitter over someone
I have been in a dark place for so long, that I've forgotten what light looks like
I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop crying
I don't think I'll ever stop crying
These droplets will forever fall from my grayish irises onto pavement and rocks and nothingness
Pain doesn't go away
Pain becomes me
I am tired and I cannot sleep and I'm afraid of what the future holds
Because at moments like this
I question the existence of a future
"I drank coffee, and read old books, and waited for the year to end"
But I've been doing that for 6 years, and I'm tired
So I need to be held and helped by someone or something
I need to remember what sweetness tastes like
And I need to piece together this puzzle called life
There are no leaves on the trees
Don't mistake it for fall
Because the leaves were never there
I need to be closer to love than I am right now
To love that is requited
The love that I've felt before
The love that is sweaty palms and mumbled giggles
Rhapsodies of savior
Someone,save me
Help me save myself
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
What place so strange,—though unrevealed snow
With unimaginable fires arise
At the earth’s end,—what passion of surprise
Like frost-bound fire-girt scenes of long ago?
Lo! this is none but I this hour; and lo!
This is the very place which to mine eyes
Those mortal hours in vain immortalize,
’Mid hurrying crowds, with what alone I know.
City, of thine a single simple door,
By some new Power reduplicate, must be
Even yet my life-porch in eternity,
Even with one presence filled, as once of yore
Or mocking winds whirl round a chaff-strown floor
Thee and thy years and these my words and me.
1.4k
A composer
of the stars,
& astronaut
of dreams,
the unsung
swan of the
night, who
draws the
paintings
of her
thoughts,
the clouds
of dandelions
fields forever
in reverie,
her sigh settles
the seas of
lilac dreams,
as music
plays, she
enjoys the
indigo hues
of a bohemian
way of life,
and every
person
on this
earth is,
in their own
way, an
eccentric
of their
own hue,
upon the
painting of
life in the
microcosmos
to the lights
beyond, one
possesses
the traveler
in the chest,
a seeker of
the secret,
unrevealed
revelations,
a hidden
lover of
truth,
a flower
always
in perpetual
rebirth,
the secret
dancer
of the
night,
musing
upon the
wisdom
of how
every
human
holds the
aubade
within the
intricacy
of their
silver
scales,
in the
deeper
tides
of eyes
meeting
to become
one in the
balladry
of being
within each
other’s gaze,
for eyes reveal
the drifters,
who sail in
the ocean
of words
and catch
her star-dew,
where she
hears the
hidden,
secluded
symphonies,
they reveal
the lights
of their
own as
time, the
mysterious
one, flows
her fabric
and they
grow closer
to one, she
watches
upon them
unfolding,
as she
opens
her wings,
they close
their eyes,
when two
had once
seeked
to be other
than the
truth of self,
from their
chests are
opening
butterflies,
they awaken
in their
cocoon,
awaiting
the voyage
to the
moon,
the poet
sits by his
window,
and softly
sung “all of
what the
eyes see
in bloom
is poetry”
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 9:24 AM UTC
Genuine conversations
were passion's static overblown
through classical lover's eyes.
i.
Confessing unrevealed tries
in variation with grieving cries.
Sighs and moans were touched
and savored everyday, at the same place.
ii.
Unexpected completions
were deviously divulged over
The temptress' despair, while cardboard
arrogance compressed within aluminum kisses.
iii.
Chemical liquids were drawing attention,
fingertips quivering at the sight of your eyes.
Palpable tension cutting through the styrofoam walls,
that we gently established to separate this sweet seduction.
iv.
Demolition began once playful vengeance intervened.
No longer did the requiem delay its flow and crunch,
for its succulent grin was painted on his chest
and carried on his hands.
v.
Cards were drawn to encaustic wax papers,
captivating lover's delight.
With sudden frustration, we searched evanescently,
for a piece of carton to hide from the fiery rains.
vi.
While puzzled Questionnaires were imprinted on catatonic embraces,
we both gnawed on the bone for answers;
barking gently at our feet, we tangled with uncompromising pretenses,
giving ourselves multiple aberrations with heartbreaking waves.
Tonight I cuddle the thorns and the knives,
contemplating lethargic affections,
infected with veracity's confection,
ignoring the ideal that I fell unfulfilled.
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 12:03 AM UTC
The star-crossed lovers prepared for a mountain hike.
"We're gonna climb and join the others," they said.
And up the hill they went.
There weren't many obstacles in the beginning;
just time for the two to blaze through the trees
and take a moment to revel in the woodsy scent.
It went on like this for a very brief period of time,
but then the tests began.
No water had been spotted since the first lake,
the one they thought they wouldn't need at the start.
One yelled at the other for failing to remember
to bring the all-important first aid kit.
Even then, they kept trekking on.
As they neared the mountain's peak,
each step got a little steeper,
more inclined towards an unrevealed truth.
They would stumble upon a bear or two
and have to pull each other along to survive.
Their feet and hands innately knew where to go
when giving the other strength to run away and live.
Being chased up the mountain began to feel less frightening,
and more like running towards the truth they unknowingly desired.
The final point was reached one day.
"We've reached it, universe. Now let us be among the stars."
Not one sound in response.
"We would like to become light as they have."
And at that moment, the universe spoke its truth.
"You believe that people climb all this way
only for me to turn them into something?
Heavens no, darlings! The answers lie within the journey.
That is where lovers become light.
Your bond is like electricity and together you burn brighter
after helping each other in the moments your lights turned off.
You radiate a glow so brilliant
that it reflects back upon my pitch-black canvas.
My nighttime skies house the stars that you have become.
I have created no such light;
the stars are birthed from you during the climb."
-mp
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 2:02 PM UTC
Omni-man signals with his one last diamond finger,
“Approach, Dear Assange. We delight for your flash!”
But we know, silent reader, that it all is arranged.
These endorsements, the agents- the indictment itself.
Everything left unrevealed is a war-cry to all:
Liberate knowledge, be Free with the Truth!
Hope be for anyone so brave to stick up that high,
may the lies be exposed as an ointment on truths.
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 2:39 AM UTC
You...
Are not easy to appease and quite unsweet
(Special to me)
You...
Are the red ball my mother said it is dangerous to play with
(A world unrevealed)
Yet, I'm drawn to your bitterness
It makes me feel canny.
There's nothing more I love than candy
I mean I would be dandy with an outstanding quantity
Somehow still unequal to the flavor of you
You...
Who pulls my tail and teases my senses
(Convince me my pain is not real)
You...
Are the personified insatiable
And complacency is dullified when you are on my mind
This is my inept attempt to explain
I want to drown in the aroma that is you
Lose my fingers in your skin
Awakening your phobias in hopes I'll forget, my own.
Smear my lips near your hips
And you'll remind me
I only want you because I am not supposed to
You...
Are the olive taste I can not replace
I want to spit you out like gum,
But it would be so futile to.
(For I love you)
Dec 22, 2019
Dec 22, 2019 at 7:21 PM UTC
*When deep indigo night
Releases magickal stars from the sky
And tenderly brushes them upon
Your mischievous smiles ~
Herself's stroked by this peculiar
View; then little naughty thoughts start
To conjur an irresistible wish borne inside her
***** "You ~witty man~ deserve one lovely
Kiss on the left cheek." Then another one!
A kiss that's rarely seen ~ a soft one ~
A passionate one! Juicy, yummy charm ~
Resembling a wanton scented humidity
On the beautiful cherry blossoms day ~
On the other one. Right now!
Then at last our lips are lit; as wild
Woods strawberries ~sweet taste~ comes after
They bathe in the warmest sunshine rays.
Waiting to be consumed with
Adoration and gratitude. We are a gift! ~
To one Another. . . I hide bluntly in each
Others Love; and so do you.
We ~lost within our eyes~
Diving to unknown and unrevealed
Dephts, levitating above mysterious
Corners of shadows and light. . .
Only our souls know of.
At last, my love!
We humm, my heart is yours ~
Mesmerized; your heart is wide ~
We kiss, we breathe, oh my!*
To live, to dream a thousand times
And never forget: to live ~to love!
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
I wish to travel where we cannot yet go,
beyond our world to where time is slow -
discover new enlightened spheres,
I long to see that which is not here.
Somewhere yonder - awe and wonder,
Life that is not crumbling asunder.
Awareness awaiting the human race,
unrevealed secrets, in outer space.
Our own existence, still not conceived.
Outward bound gazing, I verily believe;
Residing in a vastness, old and grown,
surely I tell you, we are not alone..
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC
i.
She's the personification of indecision,
and I'm all of her inner wars and frissons.
ii.
She's an anarchist, she's queen anti-christ,
and I'm a sacrifice.
iii.
She wonders at my unrevealed nostalgia,
I wonder if a frozen heart can thaw.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
i.
Reyna, we art, and thus alway's wilt be, king and queen wreathed by unrevealed novel thing's; A reality, no fantasy nor dream, as ourn amour' steam's and ring's like bell's in chapel holiness.
ii.
Ourn d.n.a is a map of all creational construction, showing God's hand's whom hast created ourn function's; We yearneth for another from afar, mine Jane, mine pet, we shalt soon together maketh ourn children on star's.
iii.
O' from the empyrean, O' from the empyrean we shalt glanceth Mars. Ourn heart's large, as ourn eye's pierce through another; wayfarer's we shalt be in the angelic city. With golden street's below ourn feet, none demonic fearing's nor pity, vesture of the trace of ourn creator's trinity. Viol and harp symphonies, high class and richy shalt we dance, None currency needed. The poor here shalt be standing first, as the greed-seeker's last, no tear drained pain's nor stab's, no mishap's. Just rainbow's that reflecteth garment's and robe's from the heavenly host's that carry sword's to keepeth the fallen fiend's out.
iv.
The entryway covered by rock's that sparkled back on earth in the opulent man's view, though here this scene is for me and thou; for the homeless to, as tis we shalt be renewed in ourn kiss of eternal life, all day here, no night. For God here is the light that the earthling's hath forgotten.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
You are her perfect definition of almost.
The lost piece of puzzle,
the half-done painting;
the imperfect photo.
You are her unfinished sonata,
the music she can never sing
and the song that can never be played.
You are her unread pages and torn sheets.
You are her unfinished poem-
her untold thoughts;
the scribbled words in her paper.
You are the unrevealed story-
the almost lover.
-Steph Dionisio, November 14, 2017
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 8:30 PM UTC
Your love is sweeter.
It falls as dew drops
Blanketing the earth,
Covered with jewels
Glimmering in the sun,
Crowned by your diadems,
Made greater by your love,
We lay in this sun-splashed meadow as one.
The wind kisses my face,
Caresses my skin.
You meet my gaze and
I look into the sea-green depths,
Holding mysteries contained and unrevealed.
Hesitant, you reach out to me,
Breaching the distance
Your hand rests on my cheek.
By one touch, these seas spill forth in unrelenting passion,
Blissfully lost to you I am.
Your every movement selfless, beautiful.
The sun, eclipsed by your presence, shines no more
Giving way to the night.
The stars awake and I look to the once blue sky,
Still cloudless, these stars shine bright.
Here alone with you, your love consumes me.
I am lost in you, to you, inescapably.
Anything, everything outside of you dissipates, evaporates.
In this meadow our hands entwined, unbreakable
This union sacred, divine, irreplaceable.
Nights, days, weeks, months, years, I pass with you;
Never was there a love more true.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 6:40 PM UTC
When I sketch your beauty,
First it comes to my mind
is your blossomed eyes,
I drew them in two colors:
Mixed light pink and dark blue.
Your nose, sharpened with
Dotted and curved lines;
Neck in the shape of a twist
Nip-lets in round black spots,
**** like two white lotus
Cleavages like dark caves,
And I sketch your navel,
as a hole to drown into
the sea of your beauty.
By Williamsji Maveli
Email:[email protected]
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 4:01 AM UTC
Untamed and Unfolding
Invisibly,
Hidden with false smiles.
Unrevealed,
So much concealed,
And that isn’t how it should
Be.
WARNING SIGN.
SAVE YOURSELF.
RUN.
No one on the outside
Ever knew what
Was hidden beneath.
ALL IS SUNNY
ON THE EXTERIOR
OF A WHITE WOODEN FENCE.
Rain poured continuously,
BEHIND THE CAGE.
Is this the life you want?
ASK YOURSELF.
I DID.
Instability lingering like a wet sleeve,
No rain coat could ever repel…so you just grieve.
Sitting in the dark,
Feeling, breathing…
To be real.
Are we ever?
SCORNED FOR FEELING.
EXCUSE ME FOR LIVING,
BREATHING.
NO LONGER,
Felt like a human being.
Cracked eggshells line
A spotless floor.
Just me in the stillness,
Always.
When do you really find
What so many others
Seem to hold near?
This is the only place
To truly just let go
And be…
Releasing in poetry.
Love it when
The rain pours
In the middle of the night,
Used to walk on wet concrete
In the dark of night,
Looking up at stars
On an all-to-clear night.
You were there,
But I always felt alone.
Watched the house lights of
The place we shared…
In the distance
As you continued your passions
For hours,
Didn’t look up once-
Notice that I walked
Out the front door
Right next to you.
Did you forget that
Something was missing?
Just me.
A PERSON.
MADE INTO A THING.
As you played the
Good guy,
With lies told to friends and family
As I sat silently
Trying not let it affect me.
The funny thing is,
It didn’t shake me
When it ended.
I FELT AND FEEL
NOTHING.
NO SADNESS.
FREE.
SIX sleepless months
Where I feared
You would find me.
Now, I try to tell myself
That not every man
Is like you…
That is the only
Sadness I feel.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC