Best Bittersweet Poems
A love that lasts a summer,
A song that last forever,
A cry that will end in a short while,
And yet the morning stays in denial.
“If you've never eaten while crying you don’t know what life tastes like.”
- Quote by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
---------------------------------------------------
Even sweetest freshwater river
seeks refuge in salts of vast ocean
So bittersweet is this creative art
of writing thoughts through words of poetry.
So many say how peaceful is my heart
that it can shape a verse that's part of me.
They never see the bitter times of stress
my mind goes through for every perfect word:
the hunting down of them to bring success,
so thoughts within my heart can then be heard.
But when I reach the mountaintop, complete
a gem that tells my mind it met the goal,
the stress dissolves into that joy so sweet,
and peace envelopes me, my heart and soul.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: Strand Choice
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 01/27/2020
~2nd Place~
Contest: Bittersweet
Sponsor: Kevin Shaw
Judged: 09/11/2017
Those memories of her, now bittersweet
Recalling tender moments that we shared
Young lovers' dreams which time can not defeat
Is proof down deep inside how much I cared
My pining heart still yearns for yesterday
To taste those honey kisses once again
Her dark brown eyes that always seemed to say
The love she had for me would never end
But that is where my recollection fades
As fate stepped in and steered her love away
The passing years created such a haze
What caused our love to die has now decayed
I wonder if she ever thinks of me
With fondness, like my treasured memories
an original poem by Daniel Turner
The strain of separation leaves a sore,
sorrow abides and festers in the heart;
two star-cross'd lovers smitten to the core,
despairing of the days they'll spend apart.
Spirit, soul and testament they share,
blind to worldly consequences, broken
by the distance in between, for where'er
their footsteps fall each retains a token.
Two rings confirm a union true and bold;
connubial bliss that will not e'er be still'd
though time and tide would try to break the mold,
a fire undying, passion unfulfilled.
The day will shortly dawn to soothe the strain,
and end their bleak despondency and pain.
Romanticism descends an unbridled staircase
bittersweet; stripped bare and unleashed
passion in supple nudity
sashays down my spine
a ginned up shimmy and sway yearn
tingling every naked nerve with a sudden surge
of electric longing and unmasked pulses of pang and pleasure
Susan Ashley
October 11, 2019
*romanticism: romantic spirit or tendency*
Bittersweet
Jose cuts the canes one at a time cursed by poverty's grind
What else does he want since he works on sweetness all
around him and toils in fragrant nature perfumed by his
sweat as he swings the blade of global consumption in which
his desires and passion melt in the scorching mellifluous sun
His focus is on sugar which whips his broken hands and soul
Joseph strokes his flatulent belly robustly breaks wind and swings
the bottle of fermented sugar one more 'Cuba Libre' before
he is free from too much reflection of what goes on in his stupor
his aims and purpose in life swirl in the sediment of the night
Joseph’s focus is on how to move his obese corpse into bed yet again
He cuts the chase from the flask and curses the price of the rum
‘Where the hell is Cuba’ is his one lucid thought before he
succumbs to his slumber and maybe life would be easier
if he licked Jose’s wounds straight from the levelling cane
Until then his impotent life falters and 'surely' a bit of sugar will do him no harm
15th February 2017
Those we love don't go away,
they walk beside us everyday.
Their murmurs soft, a tree leaf whisper
defrosts my heart that did grow crisper
with grief that stained inside and out
when I embraced and lived with doubt
that voices lost to yesteryear
would still be here in atmosphere,
but breezy hands they brush my shoulder
and shake the lilacs, zephyrs bolder
as wind-tossed-scent awakens my recall
of purple June bouquets that did enthrall.
Ah, souvenirs and picture frames
can flare or tame my mourning flames.
Our days once filled with cheer and dare,
alas, souls fly as sheer as air,
or sit to contemplate as still as moss,
they come to help alleviate my loss.
I see them in rejiggered shapes of clouds
or gold of sunshine warmth spilled over crowds;
I catch a glimpse in happy eyes
and sense they’re there in spirits' guise.
A moment here and then they’re gone,
beyond white angel-air-chiffon.
I’ve come to know and feel inside
that never-ending, they’ll reside
within my heart and everywhere…
to sense them near, fulfills my prayer.
And then she said to me,
“Just keep yourself in mind as well. That’s all I ask…”
And I felt the shards of pain in her soundless voice, though it was your grave’s soul speaking
I wanted to embrace her for that eternal kiss of advice,
Had I done so, I would never leave her side…
Still my dear, I must go, to see more of this world
To be there for my dear angel despairing
In our heartfelt goodbyes, you well know my mind and heart are with you
Love, I must be free now
There awaits an untouched land to gaze and walk upon
A new hand to touch and hold on to
A purpose for my words I hold fast
And please… please don’t say you have fallen for me!
For I am tragedy, chaos, a never-ending pit
Please don’t go down that road- think nothing of it!
As she pleads to me…
Don’t go…don’t go
I’ll miss you…I care for you…I love you…
And my eyes close in that frustrated pause of what may happen
Cringing at the thought of losing that warmth of your cling
I cannot bear to hurt you dearest one…
Yet I cannot bear to stay
Because if I turn once again to you,
I will never see the beauty beyond us both
And this, with your sacrificial tears, I simply cannot bear!
Do not say so loud that you love me,
I cannot bear to hear those words from your heavenly mouth
They both sooth me and perturb me
Can’t you see…why I must never let you have me?
In many of those excruciating pauses,
There were times that I begged for you to love me
Searching every detail out, every crack appearing on your trembling flesh
But when I saw the gaping hole that made up my closest friend,
When it finally sunk in that your heart was crying for me,
And me only,
I remember whispering to myself, though directed at your soul,
Love me when the light dims
Be selfless when you must let me go
I will write you poetry when I feel your heart sobbing
And the laughter we have long shared will kiss your thrones of despair
You will always be a deep, warm part of me
A heart so jovial in outer layers, but tender in its beautiful core
I will sweep my wings over you, dearest
Singing and dancing around bittersweet chords
For in between the rests of passion
There is vast beauty beyond us
“Keep yourself in mind as well”
Though your heart trembled from the pangs of unsaid truths,
That’s all you asked…
He dreamt of a ladder reaching heaven
angels ascending, descending all night
Sensing a Divine Presence in the place
Beth El - House of God - he named it just right
On the run from the murderous Esau
who traded his birthright for a bowl of beans
Jacob the Patriarch had a 20-year date with Laban
a renowned swindler and cheat, so mean
At age 130 he met Egypt's Pharaoh
told him his years were few and bittersweet
Yet thanks to his faith and resilience
Jacob's legacy to his sons was complete
When the fire of Autumn fills limbs of trees,
And the covering light frost comes around.
I still remember a summer's wet leaves,
And your footprints fading in its soft ground.
Seasons distant now, though once fresh and new.
A memory faint of our love remains.
The ever haunting silhouette of you,
As you disappeared in the falling rains.
Should we meet again, if for a moment,
To gaze into life's eyes where time unfolds,
And relive each breath when bodies were spent,
Finding hunger from love crossed all thresholds.
Can time capture a dream that once glistened?
Can we hear beating hearts if we listened?
I have determined to age with grace
To show off each wrinkle on my face.
I now accept there is more of me
Much more than there was at twenty three.
There’s a sprinkling of the salt in my hair
That mixes well with the pepper there.
The spring of my life has given way
To vibrant colors that will turn grey.
I know that Summer must bow to Fall
And then Fall will answer Winter’s call
Every age has beauty I've been told
There’s bitter sweet pain in growing old.
Oh, where had my sweet love gone that morning
when later that day he’d met his death?
It was early January, cold and dreary
when he left unusually early without a word.
For days I wondered and I wondered
where my lover had gone!
A few days later his father came to me
bringing me as a token - the leather jacket
my lover had been wearing that horrid afternoon
when senselessly he had been killed
by a drunken reckless driver
as my lover used a crosswalk and got run down.
The night before his demise,
my love and I had kissed
underneath his umbrella in January’s rain.
I still recall him pressed against me
wearing that same leather jacket
which now I’m wearing as I walk home.
I press that leather jacket
tighter to my chest as I recall
how the whole world got washed away
that minute in the downpour that his lips met mine.
We’d run then to his apartment, flinging eagerly
our rain-soaked clothing to the floor.
Underneath the sheets, still cold and wet,
we passionately embraced.
How quickly I then warmed up
in my sweet lover’s arms.
His smile alone could always warm my soul.
He was my sun. He was my all!
The next morning when I awoke,
my love had already left. Never did I get
my usual call from him that afternoon.
Two days later I learned the reason why
when his father brought my lover’s jacket
and told me how his son had died.
So here I am now two weeks later.
Rain has begun to pour on this dreary day.
I let my fingers wander in the jacket pockets.
Something lies hidden beneath
the lining of one pocket; my fingers touch upon
a crumpled piece of paper! What can it be?
The small paper is a receipt from a jewelry store.
My love had apparently left early that fateful day
to purchase my surprise -a diamond engagement ring!
What happened to that ring? I will never know.
But that crumpled receipt reveals my lover’s secret,
and my tears fall bitter-sweetly with the rain.
1/12/2023
for Hilo Poet's Metrical Tale Poetry Contest
Mom’s garden blushed with flowers on our lawn
Recalling youth’s zest of fancy-free tread:
I stand here by an old lamppost , in thought
And imagine dewed clusters overhead.
How I loved jasmines fondled by the breeze,
Where treetops glow with moonlit autumn skies
That forever mark a part of charm in me…
Oh, sweet are memories from joyful eyes.
Although walls have crumbled under time’s hand
Those blooms still grace remains of long ago;
As every scent, petal fills my yearning heart
When I see jasmines through all seasons’ flow.
9/4/2017
Bittersweet Contest for Kevin Shaw
Across the countryside and into the grassland pastures;
inhabits the battle fields that segregate a Peony Rose.
Such as the gentle beauty of the rose that threatens those,
who are drawn to the undisturbed meadows of the divine,
and become caught in the thorn barb and twisted twine.
Coveted by the splendor of our sight,
we horde the natural beauty as it is our given right.
The Peony Roses are captivated in our possessive might.
The beauty must defend or to shatter and remain in a vibrant tatter.
For each life is to begin in the epoch,
of uncertainty, fruitless, and in a perilous world of bitterness.
As for all the desires to be fulfilled in the end of the epoch;
seeking meaning and clarity as their souls,
reaching for sweet unity.
In the courts,
man throws his mighty stick,
changing the rules, scheming a new trick.
See the weightless power of man
and the fear at hand that he brings.
In the churches,
the prayers of woman
in a quiet peace,
for a faithful praying
as she sings.
A vicious world with beauty,
hiding as a flower.
Attraction to peril in fury,
as we deviate from a greater power.
Was it a Greater Being’s perfect mistake,
or a beautiful mistake by elements of chance?
In the birth of creativity,
allowing mistakes to creep in.
Seeking the perfect form in nature,
while there is no true formality.
Living with these two extremities,
of the hot desert summers days
and the cold arctic winter nights.
The Peony rose hiding away in the sun rays,
and sleeps under the distant star lights.
Vanity or our pride of youth,
we become prisoners of our own devise.
Dreaming of tomorrow as a given truth.
Selfish thoughts we never considered unwise,
we desire for the things we can never own.
We covet what we see
The beauty we can never be.
The danger of the rose.
The aggressions of a Man
and the tenderness of a Woman
can be read by the hardness of his hands
and the softness of her touch.
Is it the end of a gentle beauty of the rose,
To look at her pedals, smell her sent,
feel her touch,
and still be pained by his thorns in the stem?