Untelling poems on Hello Poetry

Daniel Coleman Mar 2011

With thirty pieces at your feet
Isaiah's prophecy: made complete.
Your infamy sealed with a kiss
May be more compelling
Than your place on Satan's list.
Though history be untelling,
Through you His will be done
To ensure your friend
Go down as His forgiving son.
You both knew before
The bread was dipped,
The soldiers: he wanted tipped.
Apostles fell from twelve to eleven.
You secured your spot in heaven.

syncopation Oct 2018

You as my secret

Keeping you as my secret
As though the world unknowing
Is infinitely empowering
Like the Mona Lisa smiling
Her gaze perpetrating
Knowing thoughts discerning
Never disclosing yet ever imparting
Secrets untelling
Keeping you guessing and searching
For an inevitable unveiling
Yearning unabating

#secret #monalisa #smiling #knowing

jim moore May 2014

lost at sea

when did she go
will she return to me
sweet maiden of the sea
has she been beaten and battered
by old mother nature
she's got a temper, the old hag
full of spite at times
savoring the taste
of revenge on her tongue
even when it's not justified

has she been washed clean
clean by the sea
clear of mind
clean of me
only the wind knows
I listen tirelessly
for it calling her name
perhaps the moon knows
always watching down over us
omnipotent and untelling
with hushed lips
do you see her?

Em Glass Sep 2015

Progress

The picket signs put your life at stake.
With your hand in hers it is all
you can do to keep moving forward
because the signs are telling you
that love is not love after all,

that eves proceed their holidays,
spring freezes into winter
which ripens to fall.
Light burns off the earth in waves
that crash into the sun.

Bodies float out of their graves
like astronauts jettisoned from the shuttle.
Dirt hardened by ages sighs
beneath your toes,
magma slithers back into volcanoes,

the biker’s tires only spin forward
because he’s zooming back,
he holds a beer can in his hand
beneath one streetlight
and a firefly in a jar beneath the next.

Children are releasing fireflies
from jars, poking holes
back into the lids,
cutting off air supply,
untelling lies.

And you, as you walk
through the picketers,
are become a child again,
weaving through the legs of women
and men a party, hugging your shoulders

to yourself again to confirm
that they’re yours
as you stand in a dress
your mother picked out for you
the night before.

As the picketers leave you fall,
glasses crack, voice creaks
like an attic door.

Rain dilutes the salt on your cheeks
as it rises from the floor;
this is a mind war.
After all that backwards,
this girl is not something you want
to find beautiful anymore.

But you are still holding her hand.
Look,
she says to you,
maybe G-d doesn’t mean it
when He says He hates us.
After all,
He said let there be light,
*and then there was darkness.

does this make sense

#girl #time #progress

Stephanie Lorraine Feb 2018

Streetlights

Green eyes glisten in the moonlight
City noises cars going by, sitting on the rooftop the future lost sight
Wondering where life will take her, will she be alright?
She's been strong her whole life, she wonders if it's worth her might
Too many battles, the war is not her fight
Looking back, seeing how she lost her sight
Days in and out, the world keeps turning just look at the streetlights

Street lights ran on a timer, expected without knowing
Same as her beauty, pain without showing
Her path is unknown, her tears start flowing
Broken and defeated, her heart begins snowing
Never good enough, her spirit is bowing

Beauty is pain, her smile brings light to a room
Inside full of demons, her core becomes doom
A seed is all she has with just enough bloom
Only a goddess has this strength in a tomb
She knows her worth in the mist of perfume
Head heel high, this is just another monster to consume

Life runs in eight, the world sees her figure
Enjoying the smallest of things, dreaming of leisure
Pleasure of pain keeps her going, not submitting
Hair in the wind, that would be fitting
She can't help but notice all of her failings
Her children cry because her choices are untelling

Expected to be like her mother, becomes her biggest fear
Like an open book, her soul full of sheer
Battling yesterday's self, her memory is a tear
Proceeding is her only choice
Love and hope will always be her inner voice
Her emotions are not boring
Street lights will always be her story

Satsih Verma Apr 2019

Forgotten Mantra

The lake was calling.
I will go untelling every one
conch shell on the beach.

Morning star moves
away from the stranger, who
brought the silent pain.

A stigma, an ache and
tears, embrace moon sitting,
on weeping Ashoka.

#life

Satsih Verma Feb 2018

You Love Yourself

The beast
draws a circle for
winter, untelling.

You climb the frozen
falls, to reach the moon
in gray.

The treachery
in domes was evident.
You get the twisted cones.

Under the shade
of stars, you start the
fire to ignite the limbs.

#life

𝘚𝘶𝘻𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 ᴮᵉʳˡⁱⁿˢᵏʸ Oct 2017

We couldn't stop necking even after tripping floorward.

I'd done some serious necking, the Lord God can attest to that, but never have I necked with such forceful abandon. During November: the necking month, I must've necked 2 weeks non-stop. On Nov. 22: J.F.K. must be wasted, everyone knows that. Help, this inflamed sebaceous gland has bottle-necked by necking!
***** Bear warns: Your seat belt can be a real life saver! If you must drink & drive do so in moderation or in abundance. Also: Friends don't let friends {drink alone} & a mind is a terroristic thing...I crash'd into a drunken driver but he was all right, unrighteous in his state, untelling, unsorry, ****** wasted, late payments lately unpaid...It's all I can do to put skin on your meat & then put that meat on the table, then floorward: dog land, a 1,000 nites + weekends = hurrican' forgetfulness. My teeth filled with cavities...and I: merged with a woman of twice my weight.

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