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Free Verse Grief Poems | Free Verse Poems About Grief

These Free Verse Grief poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Grief. These are the best examples of Free Verse Grief poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |


Not with my arms but with a heart that blesses your reveries, may peace reside within your chest... is it possible to love you less? Perhaps allow the sun to brush your hair in the luminescence of dawn? Even autumn envies you as white light moves with your scent and possesses your laughter never to be mine again in times of harvest or falling rain… and from stars above, may your eyes remember our blades of grass while I half-close the damp field of memorials creaking on the burial of a resting place that finds me kneeling, wailing, asking how time can drown our adventures much too soon... as I stumble upon this cruel, bruised night. PD's Million Dollar Poem#1 ~This was never entered in any contest and yet it got a Poem of the Week Award with about 31 comments. by nette onclaud

Copyright © nette onclaud

Details | Free verse | |

Passing of a Matriarch

The smell of cinnamon apple pie lingers in my mind my mouth still waters from her delicious homemade fudge I can hear faint giggles from the time we slid down the laundry chute those goodbye hugs I could never get enough of my heart cant help but cry so many happy memories entrenched inside my mind your spirit will live in me forever until the end of my time
**Dedicated to Grandma Gwendolyn Smith who passed on Friday at the age of 103**

Copyright © Tim Smith

Details | Free verse | |

Tissue Box

like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come 

dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy, with goals
beyond our reach...beyond belief
beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space, we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home...

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we hold back all the tears for now

                for, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it


Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

a dearest repost, Angel Wings

angel wings

With every breath I take my body aches, 
When I lie in bed I feel my insides hurting.
With every reminder brings me pain.
No more can I find comfort in my home, 
The cries of babies stains my mind. 
I'm trying my best, 
But of course from day to day hour to hour,
I find myself crying. 
Memories that morning come to me every day, 
Nurses surrounding me my doctor getting on her knees,
Her head looking down, 
The thoughts that ran through my mind.
My life entering a new course, 
One full of grieving. 
He had my face,
My son,  my beautiful angel. 
He's watching me now,
He left me in tears but he is in my heart.

Copyright © Royal Trevino

Details | Free verse | |

Hard Work

Laughter drifts through the house, has been such a while
Debate filters in, from the kids in the kitchen
The rafters are rattled with two strong opinions
Girls against boys, with opposing positions
I've watched them shuffle their cards and argue who won,
They seem to be lost, in the light masquerade,
of bittersweet happiness that is dim from the gray

Dipping their chips into onion laced cream
smacking their lips, and drinking their cokes
They are betting a few of the red plastic discs,
that will ante' this round 

...I listen, and smile, it's a beautiful sound, ...
   So long overdue,.......
                     we are embracing the mood... and it is time that we do....

Now a new game ensues.....
Monopoly, perhaps? Or charades, they will play
Whatever it is, ........ let it fill up the day
                                Let it take them away,....away from the gray

I let up the shade
to watch the evening come in,  bringing umber and rust,
as earth swallows dusk, which is fading away

From the living room window, I am hoping to see 
geese flying back to their warm winter homes
All nature seems normal, routine, once again

Winter is coming and a new year begins
How will it be now, this journey, untried,?
As we move on, wearing smiles, wearing grief on our sleeves
Smiles, for awhile, hiding anguish, and pride

Cold days are arriving......and there is talk on the hill 
where tall pine trees are whispering, 
reminding the creek, and the ash trees are shedding
and katydids will not call out condolences in the dark

Soon enough, when the lark sings,  wet grass will need tending
stacks of shutters will need painting,
and snow will yet need to be pushed aside

How will they cope..?
He's not here to do it...but somehow we hope
they will wade their way through it..

But for now , at a kitchen table
for these brief moments, they are able
to laugh, argue, and have fun...
                       Someone shouts out,  "I won!"..

Joy is hard work...but it needs to be done 


Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

9 11

                             America the Free  ~             America the Brave ~
                           Freedom with price              Capitalism attacked
                            the many taken                   hearts broken still
                              one World                           try to rebuild
                            sadness and tears               fall hard with fears  
                            guilt by association             many accused still
                             souls evaporated                shattered dreams 
                            tears fall on innocence          left with anger 
                             The proud fearless             knew the inevitable
                              policeman fireman             many lives lost
                            grieving does not stop           12 years later    
                               New York city once          proud  & shameless 
                             refusing to let fears in          protecting ours 
                                left in shock still              question's unanswered                    
                               nothing learned                     nothing gained  
                                ready to attack                   many left behind
                              anger greets denial              anger meets rage 
                               unacceptable still                 refusing new love 
                            wanting days to rewind           let us go back in time 
                              acceptance  allowing           the victims leave in peace
                              the brave taken young           leaving us sadly old
                               haunting dreams                     lost spirits dwell
                               no answers to hate            never forgetting that day
                               Evil entered suddenly              unforgiving fate
                                entering our City                we stand with the fallen
                                 How to fix                            how do we Change 

            This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~


Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Free verse | |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty

Details | Free verse | |

Grief is Grief is not

Grief is not something we “get through”…
you “get through” a bad day
Grief is not something we “get over”,
“you ”get over” a cold”
Grief is not something we “move on from”
you “move on from” a bad relationship”
But Grief is… a companion we “move forward with”,
learning from and growing, with each agonizing step.
Grief is… a heart-wrenching process, not bound by time,
But sets us on a “lifelong journey” of finding truth and meaning…
Grief is not a crutch we hold onto for pity
It is not a lack in character
It is not a weakness that needs to be strengthened
Or a problem that needs fixing
It is not an enemy to be slain
Or like a wild animal, to be caged
YES! that needs “time”… “A LIFETIME”
Grief is… an acknowledgement of true love shared
and true love lost
Grief is… a love we hold so deep within our souls
That our tears fall to caress the pain…
“God given tears”, full of purpose and meaning
For each one carries with it a piece of our heart
grief hugs us and holds us close
to a great love we can no longer touch…
grief is… our friend for without it
our lives would have been a lie.

Grief is…purely and simply a journey of love
It is a friend, to those of us who mourn
A friend who sees what we need and allows us to be us
Grief is a release of unimaginable pain…
a release of a great indescribable loss…
Grief is… the bridge that crosses repentant oceans,
spans desolate canyons, and fear filled mountain tops.
that we may cross over this tragedy to a renewed heart 
by means of the love we shared and continue to share
through the love of our Almighty God
Grief is…
A pain we can use, to broaden our hearts
and the hearts of all those around us
it is… a road we must travel to gain wisdom.
A level of wisdom you will never achieve by playing strong.
For only when we sink to the bottomless pit of grief
Will we be awakened by the light of truth.
Do not judge it… for it contains Gods secrets
Secrets you can only hear by listening
through the blare of the pain.
It is a sacred contract to be in awe of and inspired by
To learn from and grow from
To gain compassion and understanding from
It is a journey that holds a sacred contract
That will be signed by each and every one of us
Who has the strength… and the courage…
to love with all your heart and all your soul.
It is not a journey I would wish on anyone
But now that I am here I will walk it with honor
And purpose, with my head held high and my feet in stride
For at the end of this road there you’ll be,
waiting to take me home.

Copyright © Bernard Colasurdo

Details | Free verse | |

O The Grieving


My thoughts let go of a thousand memories,
     Like faces, dates, times and places;
Yet, I can easily recall each and every detail,
               On the day of your funeral.

                                    O the grieving . . . 

In the middle of a snow storm I followed,
     And the wind blew back my long hair;
As we meandered down a winding cold path,
                The wild storm paused in the trees.

                                    O the weeping . . . 

Snowflakes fell on me from the tangled branches,
     Falling like crying tears cascading down;
I am lost and moaning in this forever, ever memory,
                  And now the snow drifts in the cemetery.

                                      O the sadness . . . 

A headstone is buried deep in the pure white,
     And but one engraved word is revealed;
In this pristine cold, dead winter wonderland,
                     Only one word can be seen, mother.

                                        O the lamenting . . . 

              Hidden beneath the snow . . .

                   I will treasure your arms last embrace mother
                               Till this heart stops beating . . . .

September 24, 2014


Written by Broken Wings

Entered into the contest, A poem not entered in a contest, sponsor, Poet Destroyer

Fourth Place 

Copyright © Broken Wings

Details | Free verse | |

Slaughtered Innocence

The hideous and the humble
Blood peppers falling snow
As world hurtles to the tipping point
Life chokes on ignited air
Wrenching love from hungry mouths
Stars fall without sound
Some weep helpless, day through night
Ever wondering how
Never knowing why ...

Copyright © Patricia L Graham

Details | Free verse | |

A simple visit

Trying to get myself together,
I book my dentist appointment.
In the waiting room I sit.
Finally, they call me,
 I sit on the all familiar dentist chair.
Looking up, the light shines on my eyes,
Giving my headache advancement,
I close my eyes.
Suddenly they speak of cavities.
“Would you like to get fillings today?” they ask.
Sure, I thought aloud.
They numb my mouth,
Nothing I felt, they asked me one more question.
“Would you like the gas to feel more comfortable?”
“Yes please”, I replied.
Next thing you know I am gazing off,
It leads to my mind wondering, I feel strange.
Images of all my emotions pop up,
They start to seem more real.
I am off into a deep sleep,
Me sitting in a chair carrying my son,
He opened his longing eyes,
My heart felt the joy of this dream.
I was rocking him so peacefully,
My little angel came to me in a deep sleep.
I wake from the drilling of my teeth feeling at peace,
The dentist told me of how peaceful I seemed,
Moreover, of how tired I must have been that I fallen asleep.
No idea they had of how restless I was,
Nor that I am a grieving mother who had just lost a piece of her heart.
I did not expect to had left the dentist feeling happy,
I had a vision a created memory that put me at peace.
Crazy you might think but I look forward to my next dentist appointment.

~My son Bael forever in my heart and if I’m lucky in my dreams he will visit me~

Copyright © Royal Trevino

Details | Free verse | |

Time's Loving Deceit

Anger flies with swift wings
As tedious pleas for more time reverberate through his mind
He is the servant of Time- yet takes the blame
When her clawed hand unwinds the clock
He, the sovereign of the dark, the one and only truth!
Is at the front of the onslaught of screams

He moves soundlessly, a shadow in the world
Tormented whispers scattering around him
Fear spreading wildfires' shrill promise
Mercy, a withering carcass in a crude burial
He became Hope's last regret
When he became the prince of darkness,
Forgoing all he once was, and all he could have been 

When he sailed away from home, his love for Time burned
He had loved her, caressing her supple frame
Faithfully staying by her side,
And Time managed to wrap her cruel talons 
Around his frozen heart
Dwindling him down to nothing more, than abject self-loathing
And she trapped him within her bondage, for eternity
Now he wanders, over and over again in his servitude
 A trapped guardian of the dark

The fog horn groaned its complaint of “too.late”
Under darkened sea that once birthed horizon
And Hark! a maelstrom of black ink 
Behold its terrific evil and terror! 
A swirling whirlpool announcing you-have-been-fooled
And the cries of fright forever ruled
Scream in delight—“He suffers our fate…in pain we celebrate!”

He no longer looked along the swirls in terror
But was now part of its ferocious cycle
Tears mixing with the agonizing laughter
Amidst salty moans and tepid sweat
Soon… exhausted by the chaos… he sank into a most foggy pit
Ashamed, naked, barren of all past wit
A cowardly frame, shivering in unknown terrain
Inside a place where Time is gone….
But always looming in the brain….

As the errant fogs lift,
The grizzled trees’ feet curl in sensuous fervor of the cold
He envies e’en the trees, with heartless relish of their misty exhalations

Under shuttery breath he no longer truly breathes,     … he sighs…
Might I never reach the heights of even the mel-lowed fog? 
Shall I burn upon the dead leaves, rising only to fall?

From that day forward,
He wandered blindly
Both loving and loathing pulsing tempos of silence 

“I’m still in love…” He whispers softly. “Oh how I am in love…”
The dark that once befriended him almost smiles now…
…then why do I feel so alone?
The wind blows in almost an unnerving jeer
A cool wisp enunciating Time’s uncouth rejection
For she loved no one, yet all
Loving with a cruel wish to watch the other fall
How many has she taken, he would never know
For in shadow comes confusion and woe
—and the voices he hears do not sound of his kind
But who am I? What am I? 
A slave in Time’s forever grind…

A very special collaboration with Rebecca Larkin

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Free verse | |

My Heart Stopped Beating

Laying her back on the wall of her prison
Why was it different
It hurt more
Shocked more
Chest heavy
Grief affecting her
This terrible ache consuming every pore
Harder to swallow
It was him she's sure

She loons at me
I know the look
She's hiding behind the sofa
Saying he's been back banging on the door
I know it was the tumble dryer upstairs
Her eyes are bloodshot
A beautiful bright blue bloodshot
Wide as fish eyes
She's been pacing all night holding a knife
She's holding an umbrella
I took the knives last time she cut her wrists
She's in torn clothes as she tears at her flesh
I feel my flesh tear
That's her last nice dress
No longer nice but torn and red
I give her trousers and a belt
My own only just brought
They drown her
At least she's covered
She says he's been calling her all night on the phone
I took the phone when she smashed it on the wall
I try to think of everything
In the bathroom there's hair in the chipped shabby sink
She's been pulling it out by the roots
I feel my scalp it's sore, alien
I feel everything
I removed the scissors when she shredded her scalp cutting her hair off
Saying this is why he had her
Her long golden hair
My hair
Lithium pills
In the cabinet, too many
Too many pills
She should of taken these

She calms
I calm
Promising to take her pills, begging don't send me back to hell
But at the secure unit she's safe 
I'm safe
Says she'll have a bath and 
be better tomorrow
She's settled, I'm settled
So I leave
I'll come back in the morning
I sleep soundly
First night in months
The morning light gives me slight hope
I can't remember this feeling much

I hear a crash 
I run
I'm taking too long
Kicking the door in
I thank God for kickboxing
She's swinging from the oak beam in the ceiling
My belt around her neck
I look for a knife
I look for scissors 
To cut her down
Cut me down
I look for a phone to call an ambulance

I feel my body juddering
My heart stop beating
The belt
The new belt
I hadn't thought about the belt

Copyright © little known nothing

Details | Free verse | |

Masked Men

Masked Men

Look in the mirror
Look in the mirror
What do you see?
Masked men staring back at me
What do you do when you look in the mirror?
Only to despise what you see
The pain you caused the everlasting memories
Do you see what you've done?
Can you live with what you caused?

Go now down your distant path
Your unworthy happiness will never last
These are things the Masked Men Cause
Who’s to say your right or wrong?
Misguided emotions lead you down this path
Masked Men mistakes will surly last
Go now the time has come
No more chances the Masked Men are done
Turn away and feel the pain

The lonely walk to enter slumber
The Masked Men Smile with pleasures unknown
Another one down
A broken spirit lost
Close your eyes and take his hand
Let the Masked Men take you away

By: Tim Lundmark

Copyright © Tim Lundmark

Details | Free verse | |

Dead Spiders Weave

“It’s a terrible love 
And I’m walking with spiders…
It’s a terrible love and I’m walking in
Its quiet company…”-Birdy

Three long claws enclosed around a lone beating heart
Stone talons gripping in happy malice, silently angry by its pulse it cannot feel…

The longer I stare into the hollow sockets seeing only ugliness,
The easier it becomes to break into pieces over the mere thought of you
I thought it was a dull beat- a throbbing, fading beat disappearing into the night…
Though your image, once so grainy, is becoming clearer and clearer in the fogs of my consciousness
I thought it was just a dull, callous beat…
But the more it throbs against the stone, the more the stone cracks
The more the demon cries in anguish…the more I fall

So deeply in love have I become,
I can barely breathe in this misty embrace
The suspense of your blows make my innards whimper…make my mind shiver
My tearful eyes cry for your assurance
My body changes through the peeks of your light

It is all a joke!
This is all pathetic, low, meaningless! 
Surely these claws over this heart do not exist
Holding onto nothing but dead spiders who once weaved miracles
Dust and spider legs….spider eyes…they had seen so much…felt so much with their prickly appendages
Through a lovely peephole beyond the three stoned fingers…
I see the entire world where they must have crawled
A world holding you…
If only I could hold you too…

Something tells me I would never let go if I had the chance
Something tells me I would crush you
I would turn you into dust and spider legs…
And yes, as all demons enjoy, I would lose you
In the grip of the three stoned fingers

You were that heart I thought I had seen…
The heart that continued to beat long after it was ripped out
The clenched heart that throbbed despite its crushing cage
The very heart that bled and bled for no body and all for the sake of love
Beating and beating, cracking those frigid fingers
Into dust…
And all of the fallen limbless creatures would gather round…
And they would tell me… “He lives yet still…”
Weaving in their webs the very bloods and salts you pumped
Within me…and beyond me

Dead spiders weave and weave and weave…
And unlike human hearts, their ideas never tire

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Free verse | |

Hello Mum

It’s not what she hears that day
No. It’s what she sees, 
The image very nearly killed her
The neighbours say the scream was heard two blocks away
Though she can’t recall hearing what was said

No. It’s what she sees alright
Even to this day, she can feel the envelope
She can see the “WESTERN UNION” through the milky window
What she doesn’t hear, is what the Telegram Boy had to say

She still has the Telegram
Its yellow parchment a little brittle, the typed words 
“HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR SON…” a little smudged, tears she guesses
Though she doesn’t remember any tears, they came later
Along with the pain of not knowing, and the sorrow of knowing

Then almost a year to that day, it’s not what she hears
But what every mother would want to see
What every mother would want to feel
And every mother would dearly love to hear
“Hello mum, I’m home…”

8 May 2015
Craig Cornish’s Poetry Contest “A Mother’s Ears”

Copyright © Mark Trichet

Details | Free verse | |

Walking Baby's Journey

Taking baby steps these days,
they hurt less than leaps and bounds.

An unusually negative way of saying:
small steps feel more contenting right now,
than larger plans for different memories.

What are these larger plans for different memories
you back away from right now?
How might you hang onto this dream
or avoid this nightmare
while continuing with your contented smallish steps?

Could you write and storytell yourself through both messages,
perhaps nesting one within the other,
usually the smaller steps within the larger praxis and storyline
like a personal journal entry,
nested within each Earth Day headline.

Of which hopes and dreams is your life iconic,
as it is,
and becomes obvious by simply unweaving your story backward,
back through Earth's spacetime enculturing history?

How you are different and the same as your grandmother
writes the most recent episode in your epic
of how you are different and the same as Grandmother Moon,
languages the most recent episode
in the universal epic
of how you are different and the same as  your Elder cousins,
Sun and Earth,
Yang on Yin, yet again,
Fire's dynamic effect on Water's self-absorptive evaporation.

Let's Spring those Baby Steps, girl!
Stop with this winterish wilting in silo of shadow,


OK, so, who and/or what's next?

I need to find a less expressive way of living.
Oh, wait, that's called not living.
Hmmm, what to do....

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck

Details | Free verse | |

Moonless Nights over South Sudan

Moonless Nights over South Sudan
heartless Moon, don’t tell me that you weren’t looking when soulless soldiers dragged me from my mama’s terrified arms in our village in Rubkona County
I know you covered your ears so you wouldn’t hear my screams piercing the fetid air as those butchers dropped their pants repeatedly ripping my body and soul apart
and I saw you cover your eyes so blinded that you wouldn’t see the stark horror reflected in my own eyes the hot tears scorching my cheeks sobbing for childhood forever lost
oh Mother Moon, Mother Moon please cover your face behind billowy black clouds so that you can’t see your daughter’s dejected, dead eyes
cowardly Moon, I forgive you even after you turned your back on me filling my days only with your dark side as I sink deeper into a black hole with no hope to guide me safely home
but helpless Moon, how can I blame you? for you’re only a mere observer powerless to defend me feeling guilty for abandoning your innocent children
Moon, you’ve witnessed it all before the torn and bleeding the tortured and maimed all tied tightly to weeping trees reeking of despair and pain
Moon, will you soon forget my body dripping with bloody shame? will anyone even remember me? am I no one…with no name? will you, Moon, remember me?
like you Moon, I am already ancient over a hundred years it seems yearning for freedom… waiting for death… and I’m only twelve years old
Note: This piece is dedicated to all the women and young girls who have been abducted, raped, and/or killed in the secret rape camps in South Sudan over the past two years. According to a human rights investigator, many of them are held indefinitely, tied up with hundreds of other women in these camps and used as sex slaves. Those women who escape from the sex camps are the lucky ones.

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez

Details | Free verse | |

The Door To Forever

Oh the choices, the choices we make
Oh the choice, the choice I made
A choice which on that night
I did not know was a choice
I know now...

We exchanged words
Harsh words over nothing, nothing at all
Childish words over petty differences
Angry words which are critical
so critical now to recall and to relive
over and over again…

You were ready to drop the matter
You were ready to relent and apologize
I was not ready to drop the matter
I was not ready to relent and apologize

You were the adult, I was the child
I reversed the roles, you reversed them back
You wanted to relent. I refused to relent
I refused and let you walk out that door

Yes, I let you walk out that door
That front door, the door to forever

the last time I didn't talk to you
the last time I didn't say I love you
the last time I saw you
the last time I saw you alive…

Submitted for: ‘The Choices We Make in Life’ contest sponsored by Edward Ebbs

Copyright © Tim Ryerson

Details | Free verse | |

Dirty Rain

                                                 Dirty Rain

                                                They wither
                                                Battered by dirty rain
                                                New flowers wounded
                                                From broken roots
                                                Of shameful pain. 

                                                They wither
                                                When quietness roars alone
                                                To shout hate and blame
                                                And the known hurt
                                                Pours down on them.

                                                They wither
                                                Stems from angry homes
                                                Like molten plastic
                                                Of showroom dummies
                                                They cross their bones.  
                                                They wither
                                                When there's no one to tell
                                                As the chill of harm
                                                From the familiar
                                                Makes life hell!.

Copyright © William Gray

Details | Free verse | |

Am I really me

I always reach for you
When the night seems too long
It feels like you should be there
Lying where you always were

I want to hold your hand
Feel your fingers tighten
Around my own tentacles
Two hands cleaving as one

Since you’ve been gone
The walls listen to my sobs
And seem to whisper of grief
That edges my very soul

Missing you is like a nightmare
Where I never truly wake
It leaves me feeling sluggish
Even during the sunniest days

I often wonder if I will ever find comfort
Amid the pain of my memories
Will I ever look through the old photographs
And caress the heart of what could have been?

Missing you is a tragedy
That keeps me grasping
For the pieces of the past
Which frequent my thoughts
Without you, I think
Am I really me?

Copyright © Regina Riddle

Details | Free verse | |

Dreams Of The Conquerors, Monsters Marching By

Dreams Of The Conquerors, Monsters Marching By
(Dogs of War)

Along a dusty, narrow road they passed
Marching ever onward impetuously,
Nor saw they trembling flowers.
In panoply they rode
With music swift and loud,
And I knew not whether they went,
Nor who shall restore
The broken ways, nor where is well to hide
Should they return in glory wrapped
Maddened with another victory.

Robert J. Lindley, 10-12 2015

Note- "panoply"- definition 
a complete or impressive collection of things.
"a deliciously inventive panoply of insults"
synonyms:	array, range, collection
"the full panoply of U.S. military might"
a splendid display.
"all the panoply of Western religious liturgy"
synonyms:	trappings, regalia; More
historical literary
a complete set of arms or suit of armor.

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Free verse | |


That childhood faith, vehemently spirited,
Difficult to bend, impossible to tame.
That still-cradled heart, curiously open,
Eschewing fear, shunning struggle,
Accepting of each coming day.
The journey so hazardous.
Now a cold-forged and unyielding heart 
Beats out each agonizing minute.
Jared by indolence and disappointment,
Vision unrecognizably scarred.
The journey so quickly done.
Needing to chance upon that child again
To lightly touch the angel's brow.

Copyright © Charles Hamouth

Details | Free verse | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Free verse | |


He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
All results of

Copyright © Laura Hamilton

Details | Free verse | |


R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee

Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Free verse | |


I never told my mother the truth
about the autumn night my sister died
The sad secret that churns in my soul
struggling to escape    holding my breath hostage

Wakened by a sound puncturing the silence of our sleeping room
Our bedside clock with numbers that flipped every minute 
bore a dim glow illuminating the time    12:16
Gentle moonlight drifting through the window 
fell on my sister    sitting on the side of her matching bed 
Her auburn curls tangled and frizzy     sea blue eyes glazed with sleep  

She coughed into cupped hands
A hard cough    racking lungs    clenching her chest
I threw back covers    dropped bare feet onto a cool wooden floor
headed for our mother’s room
She waved a hand as coughing eased     shook her head
Said she was all right    didn’t need Mom
Slid back into bed on her side    facing me
Snuggled her head into the pillow with one arm curled under 
The other arm lying on top of the covers    hand curled under her chin
Closed her eyes

Clock numbers flipped to 6:00 am    time to get up for school    
She still lay in the same position    skin now drained of color     
Once rosy cheeks paled as if buried in a sudden snowfall
Her hand    cold where I grabbed it to shake her awake
Stiff joints locked in place

My screams locked in place 
banging against clenched teeth    drawn lips
At thirteen I couldn’t imagine what to do with guilt 
that descended on me like a sodden wool blanket 
It was too heavy to fold and lay aside

Knew I couldn’t survive if Mom knew my secret
That I slept peacefully while my sister    her first born child
slipped away beyond our reach
Images flooded my mind of Mom’s soft loving eyes
hardening with hate    her comforting touch withdrawn 
Some actions cannot beg forgiveness

Mom has gone now to be with my sister
But I am not worried     
My big sister always kept our secrets

Copyright © Monterey Sirak

Details | Free verse | |

Mourning Since Dawn

Why must the mourning come
with every dawn?

The sky is crying again today.
I heard her sobbing
as I laid in bed.
She would calm down
for a little while,
then it would start up again.
Did I do something
to upset Mother Nature?

I watched in solemn silence
all afternoon
as her tears
streak down my window pane.
I wonder what I can possibly do
to comfort her.
There are no tissues large enough
to wipe away
a streaming flood of sorrow.
Maybe this is just Mother Nature's way
of grieving,
and soon it will pass.

The newborn flowers
open their blossoms
to receive and embrace
her gift.
Mother Nature is so beautiful
even when she cries.

May 13th, 2014

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

Details | Free verse | |

Why Is It

Why is it that pressure feels so heavy?
When pressure isn't solid.
Why is it that tears of anger hurt more?
When anger isn't sorrow.
Why is it that life is a challenge?
Life should be a gift.
Why is it that car was there?
In that right place. At the wrong time.
Why must I live my days in memory?
Ten years still don't block that moment.
Why can't I be stronger?
Make you proud of me. I know you're watching.
Why is it that you didn't look the same?
In that bed. In the hospital.
Why did I hug that woman?
The one who hit you. She brought a plant.
Why did I say 'She'll be okay.'?
I hoped. Knew it wasn't somehow.
Why did it have to happen right after our phone call?
Two more seconds you'd still be here.
Why are we left with all these questions?
Spoken out into empty air.
Why am I still here?
There must be something I'm meant to do.

Copyright © Sam Beloved

Details | Free verse | |

Moon bridge

The moon so bold seems cold
with a halo of midnight glow
I sit mesmerized as the night grows old.

I bleed still, even after all these years
and I wait again through the night
aching in the depths of my soul
that no other seems to know
the Loneliness that has become my companion.

In the darkness we wait and confide in the other
our deepest fears as memories fade
in and out each season of change
            the nostalgia tempers the wars of pain
this tempestuous foe of ours
         wails at the gates of midnight
howling the warble of humanities last grace.

How the comfort of minds and hearts
turn from light to deep dark in the face 
of eternities long time clock...

I ache with wanting, with need and passion
          it is a lie that time heals and wounds scar
each night is fresh like the first
                              when I faced realities shock.

Who can wait with me?
Who can hold this hound at bay?
Who can cherish what little love left in me
             and make the broken whole?

I ache to be loved again as the love that burns
and waits inside of me. 
Who can comfort this emptiness and fill the void
                that so many leavings have left?

Cherish and love to honor and protect
             but who can slay these demons that hold my heart in wrath?
Who will walk the sulfur clouds of hell to save my mind
     and deliver my world to the gates of heaven
      with life, not death bridging the distance of pain?

I sit and wait at the floor of the moon each night
waiting for that bridge to carry me yonder,
      this moon who hangs heavy and ripe with the yearning of my soul
with clouds aglow as if I could sweep them across a canvas
   with the brush held in your hand

I rage at her as I wait, but still I wait and weep
as Loneliness and I keep each others company
wishing the clouds of that great moon could truly create
a way to find the lost, a pathway to home, lit by the legacy our love.

Copyright © tara jennings