"untorn" poems
The flowers meet as the
words of thought, the
leaves touch in the
wind, here, you share
the little poems of the
earth with me, I hold
you close under the
sun, we are in each
other arms as a
blanket in a place
where we will both feel
safe and untorn in the
warm amber glow, healing
our sore souls in our gentle
sleep, I will say to you in
silence, “the answer of your
existence is my home”.
Nov 15, 2021
Nov 15, 2021 at 10:17 AM UTC
Flaming figure so alone
tattered dreamer left ungrown
quiet minstrel lost in song
tell me firefly
am I wrong?
Broken barriers left to rot
sickened sense of forget-me-not
clutching figments left to die
Is this not you
sweet firefly?
Seeking flames of darker shades
beliefs untorn with prayers you prayed
that safest flame is deep inside
you shine your brightest
yet still you hide?
Man child ~ I must confess
you weaken limbs with your lovliness
the scarlet tears that you expire
are nothing frozen
but made of fire!
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 3:20 PM UTC
I walked and spoke in whispers
and prayed for kingdom come
our mothers removed our splinters
and begged not to come undone
We wandered wished and savored
a man had come and gone
our fragile bones were withered
bleached by fractured sun
I came I saw I cowered
heard rumors of holy storms
set fire to the stables
in hopes of staying warm
Lost once more in twisted paths
witness'd angels been reborn
step'd softly past the prostrate men
souls unbent, untorn
Gleaming through the crooked cracks
upon the whetted wall
testimonies of ancient stars
condemning those creatures that crawl
We bent our backs we tied our knots
we toiled for daily bread
with eyes downcast and humbled tongues
we sanctified our dead
Now retire into the depths
from whence we came before
with penance paid and duty done
we fight off sleep no more.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
As we count the cost
of your ticket to leave
As we cry the tears
and wipe them on our sleeve
As we wait for hope
we sit and smile
As we try to cope
we sit for awhile
As we dance around
with our feet bare
As we lay on the ground
with our fanned out hair
As we sit on our bench
and look up at the stars
As we look at each other
we realize what we are
As we became best friends
beauty was born
And now as you leave
we are still strong as ever
and remain untorn.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
We are the human stray dogs,
All we breathe are street smogs,
We roam with slogging legs,
To humans, we are begging ***** pigs!
With excess food, you stand on obesity,
On the dustbins, we stand for charity.
Hunger eats us every second,
As we beg, humans abscond,
World has let us to fall and despond,
Will the so-called God respond?
When we beg at temple premises,
Giving money to us becomes dharma,
When we beg beyond temple premises,
People reply that it is our karma,
When we beg with untorn dress,
Fellow-humans say, “You have money at excess.”
When we beg with torn dress,
Fellow-humans say, “All you possess is madness.”
To the streets we are untouchable,
To the hunger, we are inseparable,
With money, we remained respectable,
Without money, we turned disposable.
Where is god? Where is god?
I searched with hunger very hard,
I discovered, he was none but a useless fraud,
Anger from hunger turned us a hot iron rod.
Life remains unlivable,
Hunger remains miserable,
Humanity is scarce and valuable,
As modern nomads, our houses are portable.
With loans, our farmlands were stolen,
With human treachery, our life was broken,
With menial physical jobs, our body started to weaken.
World remained cruel,
So hunger turned our fuel.
To our hunger,
Reply of wealthy humans was silence,
For a beggar,
It is larger than a bloodshed violence.
As we beg,
Poor humans bowed heads with guilt
Helpless their life,
With disappointments, it was built.
In the world divided into classes,
Many live as beggars in houses,
Many live as beggars in heart,
They were just ***** and smart.
In appearance, we remain a minority,
In the universe, we stand as a majority,
Self-reliant life is our priority,
We don’t want your publicizing charity.
There appeared a revelation,
A day we will steer a revolution!
Idols in the temple decorated with money,
Its time to turn them into bread and honey.
Give us dignified life and food,
We won’t steal,
This is nothing but a peacemaking social deal.
We proclaim!
As hungriness grow,
That make humans bow,
We will ensure; we make
Your money-flowing temple,
Will completely set down to topple,
We will take (steal) money spent for useless stone,
If an individual is left begging hungry-prone!
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 1:47 AM UTC
I bumbled through the bramble,
****** and stings and me entwined.
They cut me deep and deeper
As I stumbled through the vine.
I fell out onto a clearing
Where I bled smally on the grass
And though this moment pains me
I pray to gods it lasts.
She sat above me, beautiful,
Upon a throne of thorn.
Her supple frame caressed by they,
Yet remained untorn.
A lady or a fairy...
Or even better still!
A godess of those prickly vines
That wrapped around her will!
With every step the ivy squeezed
And yet I dare not care.
If she would waste but a breath on me,
I would not want for air...
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 8:34 PM UTC
You make me want to become a better
Writer
Words no longer pertain to you
Adjectives have lost their hue
Verbs cannot capture the grace of your movements
And nouns mean nothing
My dictionary, my dear old friend, is thin
My floor, thick with the crossed out remains of its contents
The number of pages untorn compared to the number of pages on the floor equivalent to the ratio of vowels to consonants
Perhaps I jumped the gun
It is not the words who can’t compare but
Myself
You make me want to become a better
Person
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
I scratch my head
I don't want to believe she's dead
Flood gates are to pour
Chaos is a roar
Her eyes aren't gleaming
While mine are plentifully streaming
I hold little satisfaction
Of this forlorn form of action
My words are kept at bay
Of my emotions I can only say
Let her smile be reborn
And her heartstrings strum untorn
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
Hold the tired hands suppressed by eons
calloused by the tears of generational fears
carousel your caress in resonated templed arks
harks of walks, ever fervent, reverenced and etched
Tender love from ancient ambient scented rocks
metamorphic withered limestones in evolvement
sedimentary chains of life, tagging in ageless dreams
of resurrections from the eye of the untorn needle
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 7:21 PM UTC
A letter from death
I wait for her every night
Just so she can paint pretty pictures
Every night once she sheds a tear
She pulls out that paintbrush and begin to tear
She’s had this canvas for about 16 years
Once clean white and pure untouched and untorn
Now marked and colored in my favorite shade
See, her skin became her canvas
And daddy’s razor become her paintbrush
Sketching strokes of what seemed like ‘read between the lines’
Her drawings soon colored in only a blood red.
She stopped panting that day
Because doctors pronounced her dead
Funny how she thinks she’s free from hell
When really i lured her right into my death cell
Yours Truly
Death
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
The tallest tower for the eyes to see,
The glory of which is hard to believe,
Standing tall as a soulless ghoul,
Visiting everyday to take the fall.
Inside they seek to make us creak,
Broken shadows rolling steak,
Plunging untorn raking dimes,
Invisible chimneys incinerating minds.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 2:13 AM UTC