"unsecured" poems
There is a FURIOUS storm knocking at my door.
The wind is HOWLING LOUDER than the wolves.
Trees trying VERY hard to fight against the strong winds and at least, kneel on their knees.
Everything unsecured is swirling around....
There is a sense of fear everywhere.
I can hear glasses SHATTER....
Things falling and slamming to the ground.
I suddenly start shivering or is it shaking.
Is it the ground below me that's moving
or me, who is trembling with fear????
It's the next day.
Everything has calmed down or so it looks.
Indeed... The city IS silent.
It has plunged into darkness.... I can no longer hear the taps go sushhh or the trees swish.
Vizag has become an eerie land, as if it has been cursed,
with all its leaves attracted by gravity and roots gazing at the sky.
The once lush green roads, can no longer be recognized.
All the modern facades made of glass, have been destroyed.
Even my friend, the phone, has left me.
Instead of walking on a cemented road, I walk on a carpet of glass, leaves and branches.
All this aside, what worries me is the 1000's of trees we have lost.
Will I ever again feel the refreshing breeze the trees exhale, when I open my window?
Will the FUTURE, have oxygen in the air or will it be in bottles to breathe????
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
An angel, fair and pure
Who's heart is fragile and unsecured
Stolen and hurt with no cure
Wounded with hidden clue.
Great pain and sorrow
But tears doesn't follow
Nothing is inside her, a hollow
Now her past follows.
All because of a man
Who she loved and obeyed every command
Gifted him happiness that lasts
Left her with her heart in his hand.
How rude, how unfair
But I give you a dare
Give her eyes a good stare
Then tell me if you ever care...
You can say "how ungrateful he can be?!"
But I tell you, how blind can you be??
If you can't see,
Till this time you read me.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
In a world of laughter
I was apart of at a time
Now glides with sadness
As the refugees shine
And there in the darkness
I can see someone's face
Wholesome with fear
In deliberate disgrace
Find the world's end
And summon the flees
Through the fires and cries
Lies this appealing disease
Of rotten flesh
And from human, to be born
Crucified, embodied, concealed
And still so adorn
Notify the states
Address them assured
To be swept with the scars
In a world unsecured
With the memories of a beast
White flesh and teeth
In written disconcert
And so, whom would I bequeath?
Of decayed discontent
In a black path of a rose filled garden
Hides the wishes of a ******
Broken by the pervading Janardhan
And where the blood may spill
I may not be for real
And in this nightmare I place myself
But where I stand my eyes congeal
Broken faces, smiles depart
So much love, ruled by lust
So much hate, driven by anger
Asphyxiate my disgust
My repel of this utter evil
Where a ****** proclaims
The absence of virtues
And the murderer of William James
For the only unseen
And the utterly disturbed
Comes a vision alive
And they're truly perturbed
Where their own flesh dilapidate
With their minds running amuck
And at everyone they will berate
And in my cage of silent betrayal
I will commence to cleanse my soul
My solid trust, broken, forever damaged
I can only hope for extol
And yet my own deceit
Will lead me to my fall
I still await this day
And truly bury my appall
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 5:19 PM UTC
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
To see a dwindling tree in the forest
is not to know its bleakest
but to know its earnest
The decay is shown outwardly as despair
by means of deforested ensnare
Forlornness seems its welfare
Externally the forest is declared undeserved eternally
Beauty is unsecured directly
And hope comes seldomly
Whole,
is a forest,
alive as a unit
Spaciousness is created with the tree's covet
Restored are the longing of nutrients
in a sacrificed facet
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
Defeat is a victory
Tried but unsecured
Savored but destroyed
Clear the way and fight for what you believe
Courage is the best to conquer victory
Many are lost but not in vain
Men and women work together to
Fight for their country
With bullet proof bravery.
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
All I want was a shelter to feel comfortable with.
A warmth that you felt safe.
Trust for mutual understanding.
And the pleasure you fully pledge to.
Seems like loving someone at this age makes us feel unsafe and unsecured, and mostly – at times, temporary.
Aug 14, 2023
Aug 14, 2023 at 12:36 AM UTC
One thing we know about Trump is that
Whenever he criticizes someone,
It's often for something that he himself
Does or previously has done.
When he campaigned, he criticized
Obama for golfing. Such a crime!
Now that he's the president,
Trump is golfing all the time!
He blasted Obama for lack of transparency
And accused him of being feckless.
Trump's own transparency comes
To light only because he's so reckless.
Trump says the media should
Be less hostile and model civility.
Then he attacks the press and others
And carries it out with utmost hostility.
Our national security:
An issue to Trump, yet now it's known
How much the hypocritical man
Loves to use his unsecured phone.
Hillary's emails were often a target
Before and even since the election.
Trump's fake concern and constant
Complaints: examples of his projection.
Emails are now in the news again.
This time daughter Ivanka is using
Her private email account for government
Business! Isn't that amusing?
Oh, you hypocrites! You act as though
For you the rules do not apply.
But if there's any justice at all,
You'll get yours by and by.
-by Bob B (11-20-18)
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
This was inspired by dents on the pillars
Outside the porch before it began to rain
And their smoothness and dips and mountainous valleys
And inevitable destinations and their journeys
And feeling the rain before it fell, without touch,
And today will never be another tomorrow
And fleeting, transitory roughness.
This was inspired by dents on the pillars
As the foundation sank into shifting earth,
And its progressing non-smoothness
Laced cracks through the dents,
And I rumple my fingers into each notch
And feeling without touch, too,
And I remember slipping on an unsecured brick
And slamming my head against the pillar
And roughness and pain and inevitable destinations
Like hospital beds for the busted heads
And hallways for the churning stomachs.
The dents are molding from the rain
And yellowing with the oil from my fingertips
And I haven’t moved my hand in five years,
And the valleys are so deep now that I see flames dancing in the depths
But is the world so complex as that
Or is it simply same outcomes and same purposes
In an infinite score of time passing
And seven billion dents across an ornate pillar
That stands with so much pride
But feels hollow to me, is hollow.
I wish to feel each indentation
When feeling without touch won’t suffice,
But I haven’t moved my hand in 500 years
And this poem is about dents,
But it was only inspired by the honesty of them
Because it’s really about roughness and valleys
And oily finger swirls and inevitability and unsecured sameness
And the pillars keep sinking into themselves
And the dents are folding into the cracks
And I can no longer touch them with feeling.
There are smudges on your cheeks from my finger touches
And dents on your heartbeat from trying to keep mine in time to yours
And mountains in your mind that I fell for in the first place
And everything is transitory
And this poem is about the days you sought the pillars in my skull
And the night they began to sink into themselves
So that neither of us can reach them now.
There are dents on the pillars,
And it has begun to rain,
And you’ve curled miles into the folds of transitory time-passing
As if we were inspired by the dents, too.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 2:30 AM UTC
a relationship is for two but when another gets involved,
that's not what causes the impairment and pain.
what hurts is knowing you weren't enough to sustain.
what hurts is seeing them smile even in the face of their ***** deeds.
what hurts is realizing how naive you were,
succumbing to tears conveying false remorse.
what hurts is not knowing whether or not it was even real.
what hurts is realizing that what you cherished and loved is no longer yours
...for their lips,
are now stained with sins
and their heart,
now unsecured and ready for another.
what doesn't hurt,
is knowing that even though
not with you,
they've found happiness.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
You always carry that golden baseball bat every day,
(and my glass chest will always be unsecured.)
And every day, you would swing that bat gracefully
into a velocity crashing against the invisible wall
of the wind—
—crashing against my glass chest
(and the shards just drop like rain drops).
All of this—
just so you can steal my gemstone heart…
(and my mouth will flutter like a butterfly’s wings
to my everyday response:
again?)
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 4:31 AM UTC
"do you love me?" i asked with utmost uncertainty
he looked at me as he said, "sometimes."
unsettled, unsecured and in limbo, "no guarantee."
he repeated, "no guarantee... at all times."
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 1:38 AM UTC
The gentle wind whips the unsecured haylard along the abandoned flag pole,
overwatching the once busy parade field, now overgrown.
Here we stood, starched and shined, rows and rows and rows,
waiting for that final command, " Pass in review," oh so long ago.
The haylard, now rusting away,
used to be secured, twice, each and every day.
Like the the empty parade field, the soldiers there have come and gone,
and as if the haylard could sing a song, when will they all come home?
Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 8:54 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Sometimes you get me in a crazy position to where I feel unsecured and triggered out of my mind,
And at times I feel as thought we don't communicate enough for you to ever tell me I'm wasting your time,
But I'll go that extra mile,
When you yell,
And you scream,
You shred all the beautiful memories of us and our picnics at sunrise park,
But something is telling me to just give up and puts all my burdens aside and yell and scream in the dark,
But I'll go the extra mile for you,
I swear it won't make it okay,
For you to blow up and act that way,
I'll gain all the eternal shade,
As long as you are not what minute made,
But I'll go that extra mile for you to stay.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
I'm fresh out of material so I guess I'll copy me
Pull out that notebook paper and begin a parody
I'v got to start with something both satiric and so nice
Like a fresh-cut rose
That only grows
In the flowerbed of our hearts
Immature ramblings from an unsecured mind
Rolling on waves of emotion like a boat of some kind
I'm so simple to copy, yet an imitation of this crap
These rhymes are ****
And just won't quit
To disappoint the audience, all
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
Traction,
It's keeping yourself on the alloted trail,
Like a group of spikes pertruding from your hiking shoes.
Hidden underneath bleak chances to run off course,
There is traction.
Ascension,
It's the higher sense of letting go,
Like a swell from the waters of slightly unsecured mentality.
Stationed right above the need for grounding.
There is ascension.
Illumination,
It's the spurt of clarity, intense maturity,
Like a smith of fine silver, molding his first ring.
Seeing what might be, and generating the material.
There is illumination.
Perfection,
Its understanding the material is but a spec of truth.
Like something without beginning,.. without end.
Immortal, appearing mortal,
But, sincerely niether
There is perfection.
That is what you are.
I am.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
P.1
The crowd sings a tune
Most dreadful
Malice
It is with steel
Cold retribution
Uneven fire
That he shall die
P.2
Formalities unsecured
Royalty disbanded
Speech said
Hostility silenced
Peace has come
P.3
A hairpiece
Eyes an unnatural shade of blue
Hands reaching for a god
Face unsure
Blade ready
Head severed
P.4
Without God
Tangible mercy
England is set free
Gold to ash
Mind to dirt
Heir to none
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 10:17 PM UTC
Blooming down in the form of triangle.
Making learners wonder why beetroot is around there
Argument take place,clean there,broom there
but scary to touch.
Sgb were called in may day situation.
Questioning the guard.
What happened but no answers were responded.
Because building were secured and unsecured because of a broken window.
Some said is the period girls
Some said maybe is a cat who was chopped by broken window.
Lingering around like fig fruits,
Ready to fall.on madiba day it became the 67 minutes of watching that miracle blood.
All we had to say was only God knows what happened and only God knows how to deal with it
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 8:12 AM UTC
18 trillion dollar debt
240 trillion unfunded liabilities debt
1.5 quadrillion derivatives debt
On Nov 16, 2014
The G20 fulfilled the mandates of a new investment program
This new program creates a program
Whereby banks will no longer recognize
Your deposits as money
The deposits are unsecured deposits
Which now belong to the bank
At the moment you deposit your money
Russell Napier declared this day
As the day money died
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
at 3AM the taste makes sense
your flavour gently
formless, yet;
clap inwards, roam safely now
for, two weeks gone, August died
once the sky mill's lights came crashing down
a sunless ****** ably refined by the opulent gunshot
whence your neck, once slim as a bottle's kiln poured plume,
yielded crackling splinters and a bully ragged tie
how quickly the lips of entrapment ****** your memory
the venerable address of a cruel decay, corked
and crucified over willow wrought applause
the unsecured dregs of my dreams drag themselves,
desecrated, yet still breathing, into
a barren sensibility of service
to so sadistic a cheer
you identify yourself as a counterpoint to heat
burning tissues and tighter crosses,
laid across your stretched stomach
while the flirt aperture fades to a crumbed splice
I agreed to outlive my extinction
so long as you willed a heaven fish wriggle free
from the pressed seawater and shrink my temptation
and that beast, like every other, had a treasonous heart
once it knew the single human truth, the martyrs glee for murderous poetry,
where biology cascades dominion
into the thrice strangled terror of life
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 11:05 AM UTC
Can’t you see me standing right here?
No worries, as long as you do what you’re told.
I whisper your tasks directly into your mind.
You complete them expertly; my work of gold.
I dabble in all of your unsecured senses.
They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.
I direct your gaze to that human over there
and love where your imaginative mind goes.
It’s time to devour deliciousness, my precious friend.
New task is to eat until your inners grieve.
Your stomach will stretch! Complete what I ask!
Have seconds, even fourths, but never say please.
How dare another human think they’re better than you?
You will shame and hate her until the end of time.
Tell everyone you’re the gift given to the world-
that you bless them daily with your beauty’s shine.
The task of lying is personally your favorite.
You lie happily with no sadness in sight.
The drama you conjure makes me so proud.
Your best lies even started a massive fight.
You wear wrath and anger so beautifully.
I make you drape them around your lovely neck.
The glow coming from it blinds logic's vision ;
with only a whisper I make your life a wreck.
We’ve been joined together for a long while now.
You chose to fulfill all of my given tasks.
Since you have died, you will travel down with me.
Your way to the light- you’ve forsaken in the past.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
You can open it.
And find magical wonders.
Unlike Pandora's box filled with mysteries.
The magic box contains sweet things.
Many which will bring you sweet dreams.
That leaves you seeking more.
Within this magic box is love.
Surrounded by fantastic joy.
Reach in it.
Way down deep.
Except don't be surprised.
When you see love come alive.
No mystical hex.
No unforeseen fantasies.
Cause the box is offered freely to anyone.
Just because of the facts.
It has the power to make deams appear.
As long as you believe in the magic box.
Which unsecured without a lock.
Open it up.
Look deep within.
You'll find a key that leaves to a door.
Open it up.
And walk in.
There you will find a true soul friend.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 11:51 PM UTC
The day is bright and cheerful
Yet you have me over a floating barrel
My up bringing keeps me from descending to depths unfathomed
We walk, your arm upon my shoulders
Cheek to cheek
Hip to hip
Tying ourselves in knots of love
Draining the emotional life vests
Throwing the unsecured anchor overside
Your sunglasses barely hanging from your pants
The ring of engagement smouldering on my finger
As we approach the safety of the shallows
Our feet leave no impression on the sandy broadwalk
The excitement makes my chest about to explode
Hallowed is the registrars calm
This day is coming to an end
Rains of absolution, staying power secreted
Together, tiller held for rapids anon
Nov 30, 2022
Nov 30, 2022 at 5:48 PM UTC
In the proud of the night
(well past the community allowance of social mirth)
curfew has been ignored on mass
The town is flooded with its near full population
on the streets
A tension
Intelligence is lost in the mob formation
all tender that something is frowning
that a ‘big thing’ is about to happen
How do you speak out in this field ?
Town Cryer
An old fashioned post but still held
Professional,
he strikes out a pound against the atmosphere
Might I hold your attention Good People
Gods People may I bend your ear ?
Upon my authority
Mark my words
And
As Goodly subjects of our fare town
I ask that you return to your abodes
Account for your household
Barrier your threshold
Tend a warm hearth
And wait out this night
Praying as family
As unit bond
And union under Gods kind eye
The Cryer has given direction
Repeating to all the gatherings he comes upon
By his office he has told them to swear off
The public move
Infected by the nights vibration
Addled and inflamed
Disperse
Crowds coward together
And relax apart
Walking foal, new to footfall
Unsecured
Sparks in the dark
Unguided and untested
Weapons into the criminal night
New spawned characters
Fused
Laughing giddiots,
scolders,
prancers
Diners, not surgeons
Fledded on venoms
Sense riders
As their individual monsters grow they distance one another
They pepper
Repeating the town
Strays of mess opportunity
Few go straight home
A remattered night is made place
An unpracticed costume horror
No dress rehearsal here !
A remattered night is made
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 5:13 PM UTC
*She didn't like mirrors.
They made her feel unsecured.
They only showed her scars
and stretch marks but never
the beauty of her soul. She
only saw what society didn't
like. The wrinkles the spots
the flesh covering her bones.
What about the constellations
of the stars ? What about the
stories in her eyes ? What
about the beautiful person
trapped deep down inside ?
Mirrors were slowly ruining
her dear life
She met a boy. Funny how
he changed this all.
He called her pretty when they
first met.
He saw what no one has ever
seen before.
He saw the beauty of her soul
and kissed her every scar.
Held her from behind and
kissed her neck while they both
stood exposed with no clothes
in front of the mirror hung up
on the back of his bed room
door.
He held her tight as he
said I fell in love with you girl. I
fell for the beauty of your flesh ,
soft skin and bones.
I fell in love with you all and I
just can't take my eyes off
of the beauty of you and all
the things you simply do* ~
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 5:22 AM UTC