"unrushed" poems - Hello Poetry

"unrushed" poems

#*Tears flow Tricky tears they know They know, they have it their way They know how to trickle down They flow They flow ceaselessly, Unsightly, unexplained, at the slightest of pain Discomfort their name They lie hidden in the depths In times of despair To your rescue, unperturbed They surface Unrushed They can be trained To Master the art of deceit Shrouded in lies A weapon, honed with might Held in disguise In their master’s eyes They stand as warriors For emotions left unsaid A paradoxical deluge No ocean can hold An unstoppable wave Tears of joy Tricky tears they know They know, they have it their way They know how to trickle down They flow*#

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Aug 28, 2025

Aug 28, 2025 at 11:25 PM UTC

sarita-aditya-verma

#*Tears flow Tricky tears they know They know, they have it their way They know how to trickle down They flow They flow ceaselessly, Unsightly, unexplained, at the slightest of pain Discomfort their name They lie hidden in the depths In times of despair To your rescue, unperturbed They surface Unrushed They can be trained To Master the art of deceit Shrouded in lies A weapon, honed with might Held in disguise In their master’s eyes They stand as warriors For emotions left unsaid A paradoxical deluge No ocean can hold An unstoppable wave Tears of joy Tricky tears they know They know, they have it their way They know how to trickle down They flow*#

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lean into this, the hard work the heart work the art work of growing. know that this isn't forever. your body, your home will catch up to the blossoming of your soul. days and months and years will pass. but then, like a child, like a flower in spring, you will bloom, you will rise. here. unrushed. in your time.

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Aug 8, 2017

Aug 8, 2017 at 9:41 AM UTC

lean into this, the hard work the heart work the art work of growing. know that this isn't forever. your body, your home will catch up to the blossoming of your soul. days and months and years will pass. but then, like a child, like a flower in spring, you will bloom, you will rise. here. unrushed. in your time.

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On rainy days I look up poems set in Seattle, then look back at the rain set against the window I imagine the water was carried here from the shores of their bay across Pike Place, through Belltown, in buckets they use to carry Pacific salmon off fishing boats, or in lidded Styrofoam bowls used to take out clam chowder I practice walking in this manner, sans umbrella, through the parking lot of a South Florida strip mall. When I reach the 24-hour Dunkin Donuts, past the laundromat and the check cashing store, I channel my inner Seattleite: poised in wet socks, unrushed as the sips they take from their mugs when its **** pouring outside I renounce sugary accoutrements and have what they're having: Black coffee with a splash of rain, A balance perfected on their slanted hill streets that breed more poets per capita than anywhere else in the country Vegas can have its mirages in the desert San Francisco, its gold bridge I think I should just have this coffee, and this rainy day as the poem it is.

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Aug 24, 2017

Aug 24, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC

On rainy days I look up poems set in Seattle, then look back at the rain set against the window I imagine the water was carried here from the shores of their bay across Pike Place, through Belltown, in buckets they use to carry Pacific salmon off fishing boats, or in lidded Styrofoam bowls used to take out clam chowder I practice walking in this manner, sans umbrella, through the parking lot of a South Florida strip mall. When I reach the 24-hour Dunkin Donuts, past the laundromat and the check cashing store, I channel my inner Seattleite: poised in wet socks, unrushed as the sips they take from their mugs when its **** pouring outside I renounce sugary accoutrements and have what they're having: Black coffee with a splash of rain, A balance perfected on their slanted hill streets that breed more poets per capita than anywhere else in the country Vegas can have its mirages in the desert San Francisco, its gold bridge I think I should just have this coffee, and this rainy day as the poem it is.

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Red lights hit her face Like a slap from A cold hand Mocking Silent Unrushed Two drunk teens Dying from A prom night Car crash Tragedy according to the news Because they were honor students In love College bound But tonight, this scene Of street lovers College drop outs Killing themselves with needles Is just another Trash-pick-up-by-ambulance Not newsworthy without A garbage strike She was the only one who knew About the **** That taught him To value ****** More than himself Uncle Frank Was everyone’s favorite Started failing classes A solid shame – Couldn’t go back home now They talked late at night About the government Guess they won’t get their Student loan money back She wore his coat While he shivered Her poetry made him weep She wrote it with a sharpie On the sides of buses Hoping someone Would read it on their way To real life And hear how some people Sleeping on the street Are philosophers and dreamers And love one another The ambulance driver Would not let her inside She thought about cutting herself So they’d have to take her They just shut their doors And drove away Red lights Absent Her prom night car Crashed Without a sound

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Nov 26, 2014

Nov 26, 2014 at 8:18 AM UTC

The Park By The Bus Station

Red lights hit her face Like a slap from A cold hand Mocking Silent Unrushed Two drunk teens Dying from A prom night Car crash Tragedy according to the news Because they were honor students In love College bound But tonight, this scene Of street lovers College drop outs Killing themselves with needles Is just another Trash-pick-up-by-ambulance Not newsworthy without A garbage strike She was the only one who knew About the **** That taught him To value ****** More than himself Uncle Frank Was everyone’s favorite Started failing classes A solid shame – Couldn’t go back home now They talked late at night About the government Guess they won’t get their Student loan money back She wore his coat While he shivered Her poetry made him weep She wrote it with a sharpie On the sides of buses Hoping someone Would read it on their way To real life And hear how some people Sleeping on the street Are philosophers and dreamers And love one another The ambulance driver Would not let her inside She thought about cutting herself So they’d have to take her They just shut their doors And drove away Red lights Absent Her prom night car Crashed Without a sound

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in looser terms, your lips touched mine. slowly. an unrushed parade of sleepy dancers all lost on psychedelics. more than that, I wrote you a poem. this poem, and plenty more, all of which you saw and smiled to, during the writing of which you were the 'only' on my mind and Frank Honesty nodded in approval even when my words could bite. in looser terms, my ***** pressed slowly into your ****** while you drifted from careful to carefree. slowly. an unrushed parade of sleepy dancers all lost on psychedelics. more than that, I dreamed you a dream. this dream, and plenty more, all of which you saw and smiled to, during the dreaming of which you were the 'archetype' on my mind and Frank Honesty nodded in approval even when my words could bite. you break my heart as often as you make it. that is the way of true love, I suppose. or the test before the rest. and Frank Honesty knelt next to me, wine tilted in one side-finger past and away from my body. he whispered; 'all it takes is a dose of life and you'll come back to life. she loves you more than you could ever know. you know you love her just as much.'

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May 13, 2013

May 13, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC

in looser terms, your lips touched mine. slowly. an unrushed parade of sleepy dancers all lost on psychedelics. more than that, I wrote you a poem. this poem, and plenty more, all of which you saw and smiled to, during the writing of which you were the 'only' on my mind and Frank Honesty nodded in approval even when my words could bite. in looser terms, my ***** pressed slowly into your ****** while you drifted from careful to carefree. slowly. an unrushed parade of sleepy dancers all lost on psychedelics. more than that, I dreamed you a dream. this dream, and plenty more, all of which you saw and smiled to, during the dreaming of which you were the 'archetype' on my mind and Frank Honesty nodded in approval even when my words could bite. you break my heart as often as you make it. that is the way of true love, I suppose. or the test before the rest. and Frank Honesty knelt next to me, wine tilted in one side-finger past and away from my body. he whispered; 'all it takes is a dose of life and you'll come back to life. she loves you more than you could ever know. you know you love her just as much.'

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I want to sink And lose myself 600 ways in you Losing myself in how you feel, How you smell. A softness that doesn't fray Between the heat Shared between you and me, It doesn't wrinkle. It doesn't crease. It's not a traumatic response From any part of your or my journey. You breathe against me The kind of comfort that trust Cannot put into words. Unrushed. Patient. The way home should feel. Before true happiness, I stretch and unwind In your quiet Twisting and turning, My face pressed into how Warm you are. When I lay on you, I don't want to get up. I want to lay here and dream, Far from the suffocation That exists away from you. No matter how rough I am, Compared to your softness This goes beyond material reality Where hands and feet Don't have to beg for rest. They just are. There are no wrinkles in how you love, In the way you unfold and spread yourself. Eventually, Love doesn’t stay young forever. It matures in its openness. In this, there is surrender. I am consumed in you No longer twisting, No longer turning, But at peace. Whether I am closing my eyes Or opening them. I am glad that you're here

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Mar 1, 2025

Mar 1, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC

Egyptian Cotton

I want to sink And lose myself 600 ways in you Losing myself in how you feel, How you smell. A softness that doesn't fray Between the heat Shared between you and me, It doesn't wrinkle. It doesn't crease. It's not a traumatic response From any part of your or my journey. You breathe against me The kind of comfort that trust Cannot put into words. Unrushed. Patient. The way home should feel. Before true happiness, I stretch and unwind In your quiet Twisting and turning, My face pressed into how Warm you are. When I lay on you, I don't want to get up. I want to lay here and dream, Far from the suffocation That exists away from you. No matter how rough I am, Compared to your softness This goes beyond material reality Where hands and feet Don't have to beg for rest. They just are. There are no wrinkles in how you love, In the way you unfold and spread yourself. Eventually, Love doesn’t stay young forever. It matures in its openness. In this, there is surrender. I am consumed in you No longer twisting, No longer turning, But at peace. Whether I am closing my eyes Or opening them. I am glad that you're here

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Through a narrow tributary flowing down Flanked by rustling reeds on either side The small boat made its lonesome way Carrying two souls from all distractions The current was dotted here and there With floating masses of water hyacinths With lavender blossoms peeping through the green That drifted to and fro as the boat made its way Pleating gentle curls in the water’s swell The boat moved, carrying him and her Gliding away unhurried and unrushed Over the heaving crest of pure delight As it entered the river’s wider mouth Waves began lapping on the boat And jets of water splashing neck high With their cool embrace, raising the spirits Bobbing over waves, they quietly watched The cobalt sky hugging the mountains far Hills looming large, with clumps of trees And their foliage swaying in summer breeze Before them, the river gallantly stretched along As a flood of fluid crystal, a current of liquid light Expressing in turn, the silent meditation of a sage And the noisy ebullience of a naughty kid Leaving all cares behind, on the sullen shores Hearing the lovely chanting of songbirds Enjoying the river’s shifting loveliness The two entered into the river’s inner heart As the magic moments mesmerized their senses They knew they had found a new love A flower suddenly blooming in the wild Drifting them to a world sans any fences !

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Nov 15, 2018

Nov 15, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC

Through a narrow tributary flowing down Flanked by rustling reeds on either side The small boat made its lonesome way Carrying two souls from all distractions The current was dotted here and there With floating masses of water hyacinths With lavender blossoms peeping through the green That drifted to and fro as the boat made its way Pleating gentle curls in the water’s swell The boat moved, carrying him and her Gliding away unhurried and unrushed Over the heaving crest of pure delight As it entered the river’s wider mouth Waves began lapping on the boat And jets of water splashing neck high With their cool embrace, raising the spirits Bobbing over waves, they quietly watched The cobalt sky hugging the mountains far Hills looming large, with clumps of trees And their foliage swaying in summer breeze Before them, the river gallantly stretched along As a flood of fluid crystal, a current of liquid light Expressing in turn, the silent meditation of a sage And the noisy ebullience of a naughty kid Leaving all cares behind, on the sullen shores Hearing the lovely chanting of songbirds Enjoying the river’s shifting loveliness The two entered into the river’s inner heart As the magic moments mesmerized their senses They knew they had found a new love A flower suddenly blooming in the wild Drifting them to a world sans any fences !

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It's divinely inscribed that loving means patience and kindness, honesty, humility, and hope: Most things that are lacking in my personnel essence, a setback tying me down like a rope. Now the challenge arises, to tread a new pace. Take the road less traveled, unlearn what I knew. As for weakness written well all over my face, I'm not only hopeful, I'm horrified too. To watch things unfold to the slow beat of my heart, see things as they are instead of how it might be; and though I am eager to see the next part, I revel in the unrushed, gentle moments of happy. Because good things come to all those who wait; I know that one day, it will surely be great.

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Mar 28, 2021

Mar 28, 2021 at 11:25 AM UTC

It's divinely inscribed that loving means patience and kindness, honesty, humility, and hope: Most things that are lacking in my personnel essence, a setback tying me down like a rope. Now the challenge arises, to tread a new pace. Take the road less traveled, unlearn what I knew. As for weakness written well all over my face, I'm not only hopeful, I'm horrified too. To watch things unfold to the slow beat of my heart, see things as they are instead of how it might be; and though I am eager to see the next part, I revel in the unrushed, gentle moments of happy. Because good things come to all those who wait; I know that one day, it will surely be great.

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I walked a long time yet when I snapped back to the place I was standing I saw I had only managed a few steps but that's a few steps I never took before my eyes keep shifting to the right and I'm pulled to look at the road transported to this frigid piece of time stuck, aching as it tries to move it's hand down and force the seconds on I'm not fooled, I know it's lost in thought just begging the world around to hold their breath so for the first time ever the moment could remain unrushed and untouched by anything other than the past like a fool I allow this electricity in the air to buzz and collapse into my thoughts and my heart starts reciting a funny joke that sounds like this: "so this girl was sitting on a curb at this old campus in the shadow trees cast from the stars and she kept looking right and she kept looking right this girl saw these trees and these lights and they acknowledged she was there like a fine gentleman would tip his hat and she kept looking right with some odd inclination that she would find what she was looking for funny huh?" I let my chin fall to my chest and stared at all the pavement under my shoes it was solid I reached to shake the hand of the fine gentleman's mighty branch and it was solid the metal railings, the reserved parking signs all solid I gulped in buckets of icy electricity- felt it stir inside I can hear it humming and it sparked this idea that I'm solid too

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Nov 24, 2011

Nov 24, 2011 at 11:02 PM UTC

I walked a long time yet when I snapped back to the place I was standing I saw I had only managed a few steps but that's a few steps I never took before my eyes keep shifting to the right and I'm pulled to look at the road transported to this frigid piece of time stuck, aching as it tries to move it's hand down and force the seconds on I'm not fooled, I know it's lost in thought just begging the world around to hold their breath so for the first time ever the moment could remain unrushed and untouched by anything other than the past like a fool I allow this electricity in the air to buzz and collapse into my thoughts and my heart starts reciting a funny joke that sounds like this: "so this girl was sitting on a curb at this old campus in the shadow trees cast from the stars and she kept looking right and she kept looking right this girl saw these trees and these lights and they acknowledged she was there like a fine gentleman would tip his hat and she kept looking right with some odd inclination that she would find what she was looking for funny huh?" I let my chin fall to my chest and stared at all the pavement under my shoes it was solid I reached to shake the hand of the fine gentleman's mighty branch and it was solid the metal railings, the reserved parking signs all solid I gulped in buckets of icy electricity- felt it stir inside I can hear it humming and it sparked this idea that I'm solid too

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she silenced her phone trashed the social media cast off weary fake friends ceased to lay eyes on junk or accept empty invitations she was like a tree or a flower rudely dug up and replanted in a grotesque garden there was one way to wholeness one unrushed road to finding self and it wasn’t out there or hiding somewhere it was a gentle determined stroll the deep measured cleanse feeling the slow but sure growth down to the roots of her tingly toes until she and the earth around her lightly sighed

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Mar 15, 2019

Mar 15, 2019 at 2:54 AM UTC

she silenced her phone trashed the social media cast off weary fake friends ceased to lay eyes on junk or accept empty invitations she was like a tree or a flower rudely dug up and replanted in a grotesque garden there was one way to wholeness one unrushed road to finding self and it wasn’t out there or hiding somewhere it was a gentle determined stroll the deep measured cleanse feeling the slow but sure growth down to the roots of her tingly toes until she and the earth around her lightly sighed

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Spring settles in with a sigh: Mild breath and soft sun, Trees still bare, but hopeful. I'm tracing the words of this song in my head, Because what is a song of Spring If not a song of my self? Mild tongue and soft eyes As greening grass whispers, 'It is time to be in love.' Anxious heart bubbling like an unseen brook, Ancient heart thawing like the dawning of the day. Timed, I'm sure, like a butterfly jar, But full of unrushed beauty all the same. The early light has made the sky Free of blue: and so am I.

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Feb 17, 2014

Feb 17, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC

natalia-quilles

A Stretching Wing, a Turning Head

Spring settles in with a sigh: Mild breath and soft sun, Trees still bare, but hopeful. I'm tracing the words of this song in my head, Because what is a song of Spring If not a song of my self? Mild tongue and soft eyes As greening grass whispers, 'It is time to be in love.' Anxious heart bubbling like an unseen brook, Ancient heart thawing like the dawning of the day. Timed, I'm sure, like a butterfly jar, But full of unrushed beauty all the same. The early light has made the sky Free of blue: and so am I.

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You can sit still in all those typhoons and hurricanes, never changed, always the same; thoughtful, unrushed, at the helm of wonder.

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Mar 4, 2017

Mar 4, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC

You can sit still in all those typhoons and hurricanes, never changed, always the same; thoughtful, unrushed, at the helm of wonder.

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You may see something in me That's captivated your heart, But don't attempt to mold me Into something you're desiring I'm not I don't long for a sculptor Instead, a friend I can trust I'm complete on my own And believe in Love unrushed I'm unabashedly me Proud of the stories I've lived For I molded myself through heartache and laughter And the love I continually give I won't judge your honesty I'm magnetized by authenticity Our pasts shape our present Autobiographies lacking simplicity So, tell me your story I'll stay awake with the stars Share what has shaped your heart Individual pasts may form a shared future that's ours © JL Smith

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Jul 29, 2018

Jul 29, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC

A Future That's Ours

You may see something in me That's captivated your heart, But don't attempt to mold me Into something you're desiring I'm not I don't long for a sculptor Instead, a friend I can trust I'm complete on my own And believe in Love unrushed I'm unabashedly me Proud of the stories I've lived For I molded myself through heartache and laughter And the love I continually give I won't judge your honesty I'm magnetized by authenticity Our pasts shape our present Autobiographies lacking simplicity So, tell me your story I'll stay awake with the stars Share what has shaped your heart Individual pasts may form a shared future that's ours © JL Smith

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Perhaps if time could speak, one would not feel so alone in the depth of their mind. For time is an endless sea one that just ebbs and flows. And we are never sure of the course our lives will take. So we lose ourselves in the Fields, heart, soul and mind locked away as we wander. And wander. And wander. Time and tide are never still. Time and tide will never wait. And as time slips away, it can never be found again. But we wander. And wander. And wander. Unrushed for those who wait, Soaring for those who fear. As we wander. And wander . and wander. Lasting for those who grieve. Binding for those who love. And we wander. And wander. And wander.

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Sep 13, 2017

Sep 13, 2017 at 1:48 PM UTC

Perhaps if time could speak, one would not feel so alone in the depth of their mind. For time is an endless sea one that just ebbs and flows. And we are never sure of the course our lives will take. So we lose ourselves in the Fields, heart, soul and mind locked away as we wander. And wander. And wander. Time and tide are never still. Time and tide will never wait. And as time slips away, it can never be found again. But we wander. And wander. And wander. Unrushed for those who wait, Soaring for those who fear. As we wander. And wander . and wander. Lasting for those who grieve. Binding for those who love. And we wander. And wander. And wander.

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Today I will walk Through this busy land Unhurried and unrushed Though the world not understand RLB

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Apr 23, 2019

Apr 23, 2019 at 8:39 AM UTC

robert-blankenship

Today I will walk Through this busy land Unhurried and unrushed Though the world not understand RLB

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her hair pulled back she's photogenic like kodak she's an alpha female her power will prevail she's fight flushed she plays unrushed she is femme fatale she is us.

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Apr 6, 2018

Apr 6, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC

her hair pulled back she's photogenic like kodak she's an alpha female her power will prevail she's fight flushed she plays unrushed she is femme fatale she is us.

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Hello thought I'd just walk away today! Not the kinda Lady who'd quickly step a guys way. I'm a smooth unrushed latte. cold drink sipped slowly give ya a brain freeze if you got in a hurry. I'm a colorful cool flurry.. Stir me quick the colors can get too blurry. Haha lolzz my temp fails. Train tracks can't be derailed. A slow story read, browsed gently..pages turned kindly. I'm not rhyming just to sound pleasantry. Time I understand.. But its not a reason to step away or get out of line with destiny's plan. Be about your quick sought errands seek your own plans. I'm a cool cup of coffee best sipped romantically in the right hands. By selinasharday rose S.A.M 2020 9/1/20

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Sep 1, 2020

Sep 1, 2020 at 1:09 PM UTC

Sweet N gentle Cup

Hello thought I'd just walk away today! Not the kinda Lady who'd quickly step a guys way. I'm a smooth unrushed latte. cold drink sipped slowly give ya a brain freeze if you got in a hurry. I'm a colorful cool flurry.. Stir me quick the colors can get too blurry. Haha lolzz my temp fails. Train tracks can't be derailed. A slow story read, browsed gently..pages turned kindly. I'm not rhyming just to sound pleasantry. Time I understand.. But its not a reason to step away or get out of line with destiny's plan. Be about your quick sought errands seek your own plans. I'm a cool cup of coffee best sipped romantically in the right hands. By selinasharday rose S.A.M 2020 9/1/20

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A faint ding This is so quaint As I walk in the bookstore A summery day The faint sounds Shuffle, hush hush As I look around the bookstore An afternoon - unrushed A faint love My fingers brush along the shelves As I find a book in the bookstore This day, just for myself.

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Feb 22, 2021

Feb 22, 2021 at 4:00 PM UTC

A faint ding This is so quaint As I walk in the bookstore A summery day The faint sounds Shuffle, hush hush As I look around the bookstore An afternoon - unrushed A faint love My fingers brush along the shelves As I find a book in the bookstore This day, just for myself.

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Like the rays of the morning sun He brought smile to her face everytime As the flower chuckles up feeling the rain His voice makes her giggle like an insane Like the sound of the flowing rivers His voice soothens her mind Like the colours of the rainbow so vivid He filled her life with colours so varied Each day spent with him seems amazing Anyday without him feels lonely and dampening The way he cared for her its so difficult to describe and compare He made her realize what zenith on earth was Made her realize the actual meaning of paradise Now as she reminscences her past Remembering the days spent with the man she adored so much Tears rolled down her eyes ,unrushed All she could do was Stare at his old photograph Thinking if it just speaks for once.

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Jul 29, 2020

Jul 29, 2020 at 2:03 AM UTC

Kaumal_1july2002

Like the rays of the morning sun He brought smile to her face everytime As the flower chuckles up feeling the rain His voice makes her giggle like an insane Like the sound of the flowing rivers His voice soothens her mind Like the colours of the rainbow so vivid He filled her life with colours so varied Each day spent with him seems amazing Anyday without him feels lonely and dampening The way he cared for her its so difficult to describe and compare He made her realize what zenith on earth was Made her realize the actual meaning of paradise Now as she reminscences her past Remembering the days spent with the man she adored so much Tears rolled down her eyes ,unrushed All she could do was Stare at his old photograph Thinking if it just speaks for once.

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unrushed walk memories of the talk what I really need is Bernard's watch

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May 16, 2016

May 16, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC

a walk to end all walks

unrushed walk memories of the talk what I really need is Bernard's watch

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