Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"unwept" poems
I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh When the dull day is passing by. I sigh at evening, and again I sigh when night brings sleep to men. Oh! it were far better to die Than thus forever mourn and sigh, And in death's dreamless sleep to be Unconscious that none weep for me; Eased from my weight of heaviness, Forgetful of forgetfulness, Resting from care and pain and sorrow Thro' the long night that knows no morrow; Living unloved, to die unknown, Unwept, untended, and alone.
0
7.2k
Sappho
Star crossed lovers, were we Passion burning bright We took upon wings It began to take flight Wordless conversation Your name on my breath Macabre heart melodies And the dance of death My ultimate act of hope An act of valor Desolate tears Adoration colored pallor Acid dipped colloquy Mind tires, succumbs Angelic contradictions Senses numbs Whispers of footsteps Paramours’ ceasefire Blood spilled emotions No longer my desire Unwept severed promises Hearts struggle to breathe Disunite in same direction Faceless anonymity
0
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 2:04 AM UTC
Fermata
She was a girl no one could understand. Her body was her voice And she was screaming for someone to hear The unwept tears that were caged by that night, When she learnt stillness after the storm Was the earths brave face mourning What was lost in the fight.
0
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 2:14 PM UTC
Girl
No longer does my pen bleed for me No longer do my unwept tears Form the ink that flows from my nib Those days are gone Farewell to those days Of pages inked with caustic passion No longer will they soak In the bitter aftertaste of love The madness has passed The storm has settled No more hiding from its crashing tides Within the dreams of summer days No more finding refuge in the daydreams of winter nightscapes The storm has passed And its woes have washed away with it And for once I can say That I can feel my heart beating again I can feel the rush of a long forgotten vivacity Pulsing through me Filling me with hope once more Passion Warmth Comfort It's all coming back now
0
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
My Final Draft
No need to flick the **** out of this monster standing on a podium above our heads looking down in distaste at what we, the poor, can do or not do! Fodder, we are, trampled into stacks, rolled into wretched bales and stacked skyhigh on machines that run through precision. Once done, they stand above and lord over their handiwork as we the minions, muscled in on our lives struggle to keep the factories going feeding the fat bellies and guns that will silence others across the thin divide of territorial useless wars Once in a while the fucktories will open and spew many newborn into the guts and glory for the motherland where birth and bread are numbered and named with berets and bonhomie, pretend play at camaraderie. We perish unwept at the crack of dawn and gunfire in long lines on a battlefield where ideals are shouted and gas chambers await dissent. Driven like oxen to the national abbatoir hair, teeth and nails collected, bones crushed for gelatine soup and flesh shredded for fertilisers to grow more cattle to be fed more hay to man the factories and fucktories to make more children to polish the forces to line up and lament our lot Switch off the power. Switch off the power Switch off the power Switch off the power.......... Author Notes The revolution takes a step back to WW11. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
0
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
Power Switch
When sorrow fills me these silent hours, When hope has flown o’er restless waves; I watch the grey clouds sigh out heavens showers, Awaiting blue skies to soon come again. I think I know still, that the mind may turn brighter, With each merry thought that blooms in its core; How soon enough the year will grow lighter, The tears kept unwept no more near the eyes door.
0
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
When Sorrow Fills Me
I collected the currency of my failings inserting voices   into the deluge of my figurine dancing on the precipice of my tainted visage. But I was short of necessitates, fraudulent reimbursement was reincorporated, and I was woven unwept as the distresses of what I had done wove upon my silhouette. Blank verses were woven on my pools of sky blue, now vacant only snow flakes of nothingness fell on my perception. I was not as before I was whole but concussed in creation. Interwoven, incomplete essences of me. I wasn't that which was reflected outwards, all that was now interlaced in an abomination of false reflections and I paid the ultimate price.
0
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 5:24 PM UTC
Fraudulent Payment Of Resurrection
Let it caress your bracing self, Shrinking stones, held in recoil. Let it travel up your slouching spine, Tell all resistance it’s safe from harm. Let it mend your perpetually clenched heart, Open and expand, finally united with warmth. Let it fill you with sight, Sense the stirring of sadness and fright. Let it all, let it go, Feel in all entirety, safe from harm. Let it go, let it all, Unwept tears, contracted cries. Let them in, let them all, Your past and present, Ups and declines. Let it all, let it in, Pleasure of life, the sense of the sane. Inhale, exhale... Self-uncontracted, existence begins.
0
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 4:13 AM UTC
Breath
Death I bring to you, yes Everlasting and unending, yes A final gasp, one life less To walk on soil or sail the seas Here you come forth, with great speed and much ease Over, your story is Finished and unsung, unwept and unremembered you will be Hell, this place is your new home, so abandon all if any hope Out of life, now filled with death; a heap of misery and disgrace You are placed into my care, taunted and tormented by the sight of my face from afar Enter, feel welcome, in my realm but exit not, for here with me is the death of you and all If any, of your hope
0
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Death of Hope
face down in the drain my diary i write drops in my brain soot clings to my creosote never burnt off resolute chimney unwept memory polluted of days past clinging.
0
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
down
i sat in my room in complete isolation i know the attack is coming again but there she was, standing a face covered by hair i felt numbness started to fade and now im about to burst her cry-- the loudest of all the silent cries-- broke my heart finally, i shed my unwept tears of eons twas when i felt alive
0
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 10:41 AM UTC
a silent cry
One who has anger kept Has never ever he leapt Beyond boundary and wept For his misfortune slept Because of his wrong concept As Ashwathama’s concept. Nobody here is ever unwept; So don’t always backswept By certain emotions inept Like Anger and have percept Which lead you be a nympholept. Be the person who has crept For perfection – void of windswept – Attained salvation and stepped Into ever-increasing peace precept. Those who avoided it adept To tell that peace in mind unswept; Anger, A Vice not Virtue except For those who has clear concept.
0
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 7:33 AM UTC
Anger – A Crime – 2
Do you ever wonder, where we go? If I'll see you, when we know. If you'll sleep without the light, Or wake up with eyes wide bright. and if you'll see the secrets kept by those so weary and unwept. who have not gone to sleep just yet, but have to stay to keep our debts. Those weary ones who may not sleep nor rest their eyes while others weep. and have to ask what truth is right, and question still where is the light. or is it that the light is there, amidst those left to pay our fares. around the world we all call home in every day and all we're shown I guess we'll find out when we know. In every time, we use our voice, to speak our mind, or! just rejoice, and every thing we love or hate, and everyone who called us mate, and every where we went to see, I cannot say, I do not know I guess we'll find out when we go
0
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
Where WE Go
There was a time that I was unfilled searched and dropped in an ocean in the deep water the last hope lost bombs exploded and shells bursted the whole of me was decanted a remnant that seems muted but one that's alive and lasting There was a time that I was waiting to be seen, loved, deserved and adored like the lentil sat in the water to sprout and the state withered, lowly swallowed the brokenness of it ached, stakes gone the bets were a loss drained on the grounds as the escalator crept it's way up There is moment in the present day where the awoken me is a desire a goal to believe within my depths touching the instincts and procures not hurt and not wanting to believe neither relying on the adoration to sate as the state of lone licked all the tears
0
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
Stitches unwept