"unturned" poems
Human directives, veracities unverified
Bellies belching with anger, murderers
Udders dripping hate, foundling banters
Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate
Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink
Tear motions and debates of inequality
My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise
All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield
Emergency alarms sirens from 2003
The indefinite complications and hunger
A land of the displaced, starving nomads
Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts
Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious
A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws
Inhumane human interrogations persists
A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve
Force-feeding, torturous measures applied
All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed
A Rwanda slain in divide and rule
Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed
Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves
Machetes slashing necks and hands
A lust of power, a genocide slaughter
The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch
Autocratic regime boring divisions
Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust
The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles
Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill
Indifference pooled in pits and camps
The institutional social indoctrination
The honor and killing to expose shame
The violation and dishonor of moral fabric
For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values
Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit
Confessional secrets of only what lays within
A torment watching witnesses, all dangling
Marxists calls ships to stow ashore
Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit
Invalid contracts awaits signatures
The white immigrants to be enslaved
All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor
Wage packages taken to pay for freedom
Humans bought and sold to be owned
Slaves yorked and counted as assets
Bounded to serve plantations and homes
A human, non human, a chattel, a slave
A debt ******* offended and *****
Untamed and made to obey a master
A falling global strings unturned
Tunes strumming hate, war and pain
Human trafficking, violence, inequality
Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists
Commercialism, zero hour contracts
For if we have no rights, I have none
For if we have no peace I have none
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
~for lovejunkie, who loved this poem best~
*so many reasons,
so many stones
yet unturned,
for each poem
a season,
for every season,
a given reason
eyes, dimmer,
hearing, harder,
memories, ha,
disappear as fast as
footsteps upon
my island beach
this then
my log,
of places momentarily visited,
capturing the of,
of me,
the exactitude of
where, when and what
I felt
what felled me,
the long and lat,
of the attitudes
of breeze and currents,
the happenstance that carries
a desperate soul
eager and afraid
to remember*
"how fragile we are"
*so memorized records here,
for his storage and his places,
both filled and unfulfilled,*
***poems, nothing more,
flawed each,
product of a flawed man,***
here, for all to see,
most of all,
for the man,
to see himself
when the eyes of his mind
at last be shuttered
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 8:06 AM UTC
There is a chaos in my beats,
A sound of some sin keeps calling me
The elicited filth is blurring my vision
The guilt of my iniquitous deeds keeps visiting me!
A conflict is there, between my soul and body,
I am pulling away from myself to myself!
This pain in my heart keeps withering my poor soul!
In search of love, I left no stone unturned!
My toes are bruised while walking barefoot up to hills,
I've seen the thorns stuck in my skin and flesh!
O death! Come take me away from myself!!
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 3:02 AM UTC
Yo soy *****
**** immigration and the racist white tèjanõs, please tell me how the hell would they ever know what I know, shout out to my Mexicans Hondurans and black Cubanos shut the border down call it the no fly zone. Adios Americanos me and my amigos are stealing ya women and playin em like pianos, vocal terrorist this lyrical revolt should be your primary interest. Public enemy number one the domestic hectic terrorist I'm influencing your white son, right to bear these nuts I'm taking the tea parties guns stealing your freedom from right up under you, all your jobs, and way of life, your point of view. I'm the original black power ranger hide your right winged minds if not I swear they'll be in danger. I am the broken brick the stone left unturned the rhythm of the wind the willingness to learn and the desire to fight and get what you earn. I am the individual placed on the no fly list with my hand balled into a fist cause my turbin is too tight and my beards to thick. I am the man choked to death by nypd for selling cigarettes now I'm rioting with my words doing lyrical pirouettes. Yo soy ***** spitting jive like lingo I want a Pam Grier keep your Marilyn Monroe, from the 6th borough buckin like bronco they said finish em I'm educated and black had to hit em with the combo. I'm non fictions Huey Freeman battling congress and their demons catch me flexing on the law lookin like the black He-Man Standing up for what I believe in writing in my notepad I stay steady schemin with my head up in the clouds I stay steady dreamin. Yo soy ***** freeze em like sub zero not concerned with dolores or the dinero yen or bills yo, I'm still waiting for marvel to make a Mexican superhero.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
.
*O beautiful sunshine, may you beam
On a dishevelled soul as it may seem
Reach for the deepened crevices
Let light illuminate the darkness
O beautiful sunshine, may you bathe
Upon a weepy morn that wished you’d save
Let no mossful stone be left unturned
Let there be hope to those left spurned*
.
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 1:03 AM UTC
I remember the first time
I felt panic, I
Had been raised in a beautifully-constructed world of my mother’s making where I could
Take my time and step from subject to subject like hopscotch or skipping rope because I wanted to know it all
Drinking it all in, soaking in knowledge like a bath
Learning everything there was to learn
Leaving no stone unturned
No one told me I couldn’t
Swirl my fingertips in acrylics, read books on horses having *** at age seven because I wanted to be a veterinarian, hit the soprano notes though I was an alto, crush dandelions into healing potions, create a world on a stage with crying child actors, nick cardboard boxes and clocks because I knew I could move time backwards
Then I grew up and
The grown-up world was not so forgiving
Examinations, papers, time clocks, meetings, expectations I could not meet with the excellence my soul craved
I can’t breathe
Fear had a choke-hold on my throat
My mouth would dry, then wet as my stomach swirled and groaned with nausea
My hands turned into ice picks
My heart screamed like a jackhammer in concrete
Every possible worst-case, best-case, win-win, lose-lose, lose-win scenario would rush and overthrow my amygdala like a union mob besieging an abusive factory that never closes, never lets them rest
I didn’t realize it was because the only way to do it all and be it all and hit every deadline and finish every task was to sacrifice perfection, to become average, mediocre
Assimilate
And I learned the truth
That that was all the world expected of me anyway
You see there is no patience for anything else in the real world
I can’t breathe
I have no emotion, only thought processes
Paralyzing, debilitating clash between suppressed desires to take my time, create, innovate, learn and the overwhelming need to
Focus, decide, move faster, work harder, be on time, be better, please everyone, be everything
Be nothing
To where the only choice is let go of that part of yourself or go insane
So I shed my skin like it was a sin I was leaving behind
Just to survive
Without the headaches, the heartbreak, ripping my hair out over stupid little mistakes
It’s taken this long to find it in my closet again
To not be afraid
Of the soul it takes to
Perfect
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
Feared on both land and high seas
Many a tale can be told
Of the pillaging of neighborhoods
Daily setting sail these pirates bold
Days spent digging for buried treasure
Leaving no stones unturned
The pirates ***** was out there somewhere
Blackbeard's gold is what they both yearned
After a day of living reckless
The warm waters would call their name
Where they would do battle in their sailing ships
Perfecting this pirate game
Both of them young brothers
Buccaneers through and through
Wise enough to listen to their mother
When she said get in the tub you two
Yes their high seas are warm bath waters
And their cutlass a mighty scrub brush
As legend would have it in their short years
They are pirates of the tub
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 6:57 AM UTC
Dew Diligence
to reap the rewards of a world of magic
and appreciation of earning
the clouds of doubt and pain
must be experienced
the piper must be payed
the fear of life reconciled
with the acceptance of death
leaving no stone unturned
no path untraveled
the mind set free in observation
the binds loosened in anticipation
maintaining your resilience
the tears must fall
your dew diligence
Gomer LePoet..
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
Who is left that cares for what's precious and finds a way?
is there an awareness that allows for love and caring to be expressed?
what ego was more important?
what winning or need to feel better was more important?
funny how the need to rush away from the most important communications distort every communication
always in a hurry to move away from
only to never really completely have what is needed for the right communication
impatient with this, in judgment of that, closing off all feelings after the next determination
all that was missed because of this cell phone or this "appointment" who truly held no self created distraction?
where nothing would have interfered with what should have been held in the highest respect for however long it took?
what was more important than truth expressed and feelings shown?
what deserved making what was precious not a priority?
What will sit there as a stone unturned and a pain to ruminate because a mis-communication was digested as truth when it wasn't. And love wasn't allowed the path to bloom
and caring wasn't mutually expressed
Funny how the only way I could ever express myself in full is to write a book because nobody involved ever really has the time, patience, open-mindedness and lack of ego and judgment to hear it without changing what it is--being taken away or held in possession of by another to shield what is complete in explaining
so why not expose everything and be without judgment, fear, or the ticking clock
why not make that the most important thing instead of the short fuse, the agenda that makes it unimportant, the hate that ends all communication
Why not love and love with patience, caring, open-mindedness for wasn't there plenty of times where love was needed for you and it was given and given and given some more?
Where is the love?
Where is the love that has infinite patience to hear and stay with friction until it no longer is? Where is what is most PRECIOUS?
But the prissy spoile friends say no, and the television personalities say no, and the opinions of others pre-determined yours, and the opinions you chose you are a prisoner of--but why is what is so precious in the overall scheme of things not the most important thing?
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
she lieth clay, huff fled, withdrawn;
sun sleeps unturned, no lilt, no dawn.
the child stands silent, priests deceive,
she lingers not, the Lord won’t breathe.
they spake of light, of rule, of psalm,
yet death embraced what once was warm.
he looked and found the flesh laid bare;
at last he grasped, God was not there.
Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 3:16 PM UTC
Humorless soul burning plunder
Of fraternity and success
By unnamed ,unseen blood and flesh
Escaping through unimaginable pits of hell
Not leaving a folklore,a story to tell.
A new decease spreading through mankind
From a single human body
Frightening name, shrieking mankind
Whenever this disease comes in contact with them.
Appropriately a plague
Running in tempt
Spreading to face
Something like vendetta ,something unsafe.
Entering into new age
Through the plague of dissatisfaction
Morose ,cruel,not leaving a fly unhurt
Being risen as group of beasts...
Dissatisfaction,a word which shouldn't exist
Flows now through the blood stream of every body
Leaving poison to spread
From toe to head
Keeping love in custody.
Why this plague of dissatisfaction?
Why an unturned page?
why this spread of cruelty?
Why not try but fail?
Unanswerable questions,i think these are for me...
I'll just sit and stare at the poem as the
Plague of dissatisfaction spreads till eternity.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
lonely nights
show us the darkest sight
of our strength and weakness
to our partner it could bring stress
if you're strong enough
then its fine
else for your partner time is tough
you may act like swine
your heart just give reasons
its our brain that do the calculations
its OK to have an insane heart
but an insane mind can lit spark
from the number of incident
we choose a single moment
where our heart beats loud
and to judge, our insane mind, we allow
the mind come up with harsh decision
but our heart has its own vision
it chooses the one suits
and to negotiate, this decision, it recruits
its us who know;
every moment and incident
don't let your feelings flow
they (partner) may not find it decent!
we must respect every living being
and not take them for granted;
just because they respect our feeling.
our act may get a negative image planted!
if you love the person
love their decision!
and if you can't
simply make space and move on!!
we don't have any right to hurt someone
coz everyone is special in their own.
and what if they hurt you?
its your decision if you want to continue
don't leave any stone unturned
don't let your feelings burn
but to force someone to love
is inhuman hereof!
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 2:15 AM UTC
the taste of love
a bruise on your tongue
fading fast
made not to last
the sound of hearts
as they crash and burn
fall so quickly
ticking sickly
a look so silky
it can't be returned
a touch of sin
lost to the wind
etched into skin
a blank page, unturned
inked on a whim
just as sure to be burned
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 11:39 AM UTC
“You have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.” – Tyler Durden, Fight Club
You have a kind of sick
desperation in your laugh.
You always think of others.
They never do,
on your behalf.
He’s there you’re him.
You’re here he’s you.
He says he’s Tyler.
And you are?
Who?
Clinging to the manic sense
you get when you’re a l o n e .
String up the failing,
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
words,
you feel you must atone.
Who are you really?
Slipping
f l a i l i n g
unmissed and left to burn.
Black and darkened
Your heart unharkened
The page is left,
unturned.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
With ghastly cries the clock doth bound
Every sound to earth and ground
Only it sees times grim rounds
Clock! Have mercy on this soul
Once a child now I'm old
The grave outside will soon have bones
Let death not vist to this home
Clock! Go to time and plead my case
Let this life be not erased
Let me slip through times cracks untraced
Let me keep my youths young face
Clock! You tick without a word
Do you not comprehend whats heard?
And earth! For time you must have cure
For you stay pure and so unturned
And I grew weak with thoughts absurd
Clock! I understand your chains
That time may only have reins
But still I'll look to find a way
To cheat on time and shed my fate
With ghastly cries the clock doth bound
Every sound to earth and ground
Dec 4, 2010
Dec 4, 2010 at 5:46 PM UTC
I exhale.
One exhalation added
To the collective sigh of the sad
A sort of meditation
A sign of letting go
A surrender to the feeling
To the moment
I contemplate.
Repeated contemplation
Of every unturned stone
The groove in the record deepens
And the needle traps itself
The invitation of
Darkness is irresistible
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC
Raindrops forget to
drop
a drop
dropping slowly
the rain forgets to stop
stop
plop
a plop of blood in the ocean of firestorm
now death opened
like an unturned boat in the
middle of the world
to receive the last plummet of hope,
last blessing
in a humane drop from above
above
the above has
no rain for the next season
the winds are afraid to return.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC
The door slid silently into position
Utter panic wrote its epitaph before
The air resisted, collapsing your boxed
Voice, hiccupping to a captured halt
Scrawny syllables, whithering
Slogans designed to entangle, split
Personality in tow, pushing sickening
Sentences to the back of your throat
Gagging the saliva of terror burning
Apart effortlessly. Remorse did not attend
Strangulating the heaving mass.........
The handle remained unturned, imagined
Fear felled you, trapped consciousness
Performing blackouts, dragging into a
Well of invisible discipline, conjuring
Paranoid stifling circles to spy with menace
Fading fast, blinking on hold, staring out
Slow motion heart rhythm journeyed
To cold climates leaving warmth unaccounted
For and you left on the cold cold slab
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
Everything she writes is tagged
#DEPRESSION
You break my heart, know.
Even with these chemical
bonds holding me together,
these frail spiderwebs
weaving around ventricles,
you shatter them like a
calm breeze, playing child,
a secret told to the wrong set of ears.
The characters in (y)our plays [on words]
are the crux of (y)our matters.
We're all ancillary like stepping stones;
pity (y)our destination begs leaving
no stone unturned.
My stepping stones are tablets, though.
20mg doses of baby steps,
crossing voids like I see in (y)our eyes.
My mouth is cavernous,
my throat the steps to hell
(wide and steep and too easy to trip down).
Each night - a crusade to save me.
Each morning - a body count.
One. Good enough for me.
Each time I sign on - the body count grows.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
Watch out, or you will find that you're
On President Trump's Enemies List,
For democratic values and Donald
Trump cannot coexist.
Former CIA Director
John Brennan, now has learned
That when it comes to silencing critics,
Trump will leave no stone unturned.
After hearing Brennan's critical
Words, the angry Trump was stewing.
Bam! He revoked Brennan's security
Clearance despite no wrongdoing.
The crazed, vindictive leader called
John Brennan's behavior "erratic."
Muzzling the freedom of speech, Trump's
Becoming more autocratic.
The office of the presidency
Has never, ever been sullied so.
This vicious attack on our First Amendment
Rights is a terrible blow.
Trump accused Brennan of making
"Baseless charges." Real translation:
Brennan didn't hail Trump
With sycophantic adoration.
On Trump's list are others who
Might lose clearances as well.
Here his lack of integrity
And pettiness have no parallel.
Another motive for Trump's action
Is more diabolical yet:
He wants to strip the power away
From all people who might be a threat
Because of their connection to
The Russia probe. That makes sense.
As more dots are being connected,
The situation is growing tense.
While servile Republicans in Congress
Defend their despotic president,
Let Brennan's powerful words
Resound: "I will not relent."
-by Bob B (8-16-18)
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
Dusty,
music fills a sweet soul when
Hungry,
life grows from fingertips.
Torn,
shreds of the uninspiring
Write
words painted across skies.
Water,
The dead metaphors with ink.
Breathe,
life into the unturned stones.
Discover,
the bright flowers of imagination.
Nurture,
your ink and your blood alike
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Shuffled deck; fetch me three of Seventy-Eight cards.
First:
Queen of Swords
"This fine Sword of honest metal
is a more true an Ally
than many of Flesh indeed prove to be."
*Much like Athena,
The Queen of Swords
is symbolic of progress;
always keen on new ideas;
though she is not One to leave herself defenseless,
her faithful Sword stands
always by her side.*
Second of the three,
of the still Seventy-Seven:
Two of Swords
"Distracted by conflict
'twixt Heart and Mind,
I hold two Swords and bide my Time."
*Two of Swords
stands between Moon and Water;
the Shadow and the Subconscious
the darkness and the unknown.
The Two of Swords
is blindfolded
and in her blissful ignorance
maintains her precarious balance,
for now.*
The third of three random cards;
leaving Seventy-Five unturned:
Knight of Swords
"Feast your eyes upon this, my plan;
I wager thou hath, in all thy wretched days,
ne'er so beauteous a thing beheld!"
*The Knight of Swords
is a keen poet and a fine musician;
though perhaps not romantically.
She dabbles for the sake of the intellect,
and seeks that those things be playthings thereof.
She is symbolic of progress through new ideas
and of the eloquence of a well-laid plan.
Being of the House of Swords,
she revels in the stimulation of intellect
and the effective use of wisdom.
She usually yields only to herself
and marches to the beat of her own convictions,
all the while
keeping her eyes
on the prize.*
-
All of these Cards
are of the House of Swords.
There's about a 1 in 166 chance
of getting 3 of the 14 Swords
out of a random deck of 78 cards.
I got the Queen of Swords as my third card last time
and the first card this time;
There's 1 in approximately 676 chance
of getting the same card
in two consecutive sets of three cards
from a random 78 card deck.
(im)Probabilities aside:
The Suit of Swords is generally associated with:
one's ways of thinking, systems, ideas, and communication.
It has much to do with
what we chose to do with our Minds
and it also is symbolic of the power of
the stories we tell ourselves and each other.
The Swords are indeed double-edged in Tarot.
It has to do with the power of information
and with that comes delusion,
and, inexorably,
paradox.
Patterns do exist, however.
Upon these patterns
foundations may be built,
the same is true within myself;
I can choose to use all these Swords
to cut through this cage of Shadow
and set free the Light once more
rather than allowing myself
to myself fall victim to the Swords
through inaction or misuse
though only if I tread lightly
and thoughtfully
and proceed with tact;
that much is clear.
Sword is the sign of Air;
perhaps the message here is simply
"Remember to breathe."
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 5:00 AM UTC
Step into my universe
You'll see only words
In my mind, flurry of feathers
Hurricane of riled up birds.
They amass and circulate
Searching to break free
Storm of ink; doesn't abate
Bleed out for no one to see.
*Hidden inside my heart
Forbidden words I long to convey
Teach me how to start
With you I foist to play.*
Words veiled by silent secrecy,
Cloaked words I long to shout
Bordering the point of heresy
Tabooed words without doubt.
Almost an eternity I've whispered
With care and only hushed tones
Well kept secret undiscovered
Laying quiet under unturned stones.
Thought myself alone when I heard another
One that sings choral to my own
A mournful call that sang together
Grey melodies embodied in skin and bone.
*The cravings of my heart
Your words I wish to fill
In my head occupies the biggest part
Our declaration's the only seal.
A vow you and I made
A love we wish to last forever
Dismissing that opportunities evade
Who would need a supporting paper.
Hidden softness within me
Only you can tap and enjoy
The only one that holds the key
Heart and mind meet to employ.*
Our hearts, like kings, would've risen
Adorned and bejewelled on their crests
Let us sing in unrehearsed unison
Crowned words we've locked in our chests.
IamMsIves
rhymesmith
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 8:21 AM UTC
Bringing us to life,
Nurturing us, caring for us.
Teaching us all manner of things,
From beginning to end.
Ever going onward, ravaging us in its wake.
Leaving no pebble unturned in passing.
Tearing through and affecting all.
Seeing a shell left behind, mourning a loss,
rejoicing in release, if ever it will come.
If ever one is released, by our ever present jailer.
Time.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
Whole Heart (Hold me Now)- Hillsong UNITED
Hold me now
In the hands that created the heavens
Find me now
Where the grace runs as deep as Your scars
You pulled me from the clay
You set me on a rock
Called me by Your Name
And made my heart whole again
Lifted up
And my knees know it's all for Your glory
That I might stand
With more reasons to sing than to fear
You pulled me from the clay
Set me on a rock
Called me by Your Name
And made my heart whole again
So here I stand
High in surrender
I need You now
Hold my heart
Now and forever
My soul cries out
Once I was broken
But You loved my whole heart through
Sin has no hold on me
'Cause Your grace holds me now
And that grace
Owns the ground where the grave did
Where all my shame remains
Left for dead in Your wake
You crashed those age-old gates
You left no stone unturned
You stepped out of that grave
And shouldered me all the way (Come on)
So here I stand
High in surrender
I need You now
Hold my heart
Now and forever
My soul cries out
'Cause once I was broken
But You loved my whole heart through
Sin has no hold on me
'Cause Your grace holds me now
Healed and forgiven
Look where my chains are now
Death has no hold on me
'Cause Your grace holds that ground
And Your grace holds me now
Your grace holds me now
Your grace holds me now
Your grace holds me now, oh
So here I stand
High in surrender
I need You now
Hold my heart
Now and forever
My soul cries out
So here I stand
High in surrender
I need You now
Hold my heart
Now and forever
My soul cries out
Here I stand
High in surrender
I need You now
Hold my heart
Now and forever
My soul cries out
Here I stand
High in surrender
I need You now
Hold my heart
Now and forever
My soul cries out
Once I was broken
But You loved my whole heart through
Sin has no hold on me
'Cause Your grace holds me now
Healed and forgiven
Look where my chains are now
Death has no hold on me
'Cause Your grace holds that ground
And Your grace holds me now
Grace holds me now
Grace holds me now
Grace holds me now
Healed and forgiven
Look where my chains are now
Death has no hold on me
'Cause Your grace holds that ground
And Your grace holds me now
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 3:32 PM UTC