Best Breathing Out Poems
Should we desire to imitate our Master, we must diligently study to know His heart.
As an orchestra should desire to play Beethoven with perfection, they too must
seek to know what he was thinking and feeling – the air he was breathing in and breathing out; playing the thoughts that turned his story into a beautiful symphony.
So we too, though broken fragments – individual and diversified, come together in unity, study our Master who fills us with His Spirit, that we may know Him, imitate Him; learning the symphony that He has written.
Let us breath Him in and breath Him out, that the world might desire to intently listen and learn to know Him, then desire to be a part of worshiping the One who has written His symphony on our hearts.
Categories:
breathing out, religious,
Form:
Gentle light flows through the pines,
Inviting the oaks, the laurels, to sigh,
Echoing soft breath, smoke rising –
Mist in the sky, a moment of silence
Breaks the song, playing on the crisp morn’
This is summer’s sadness, when August
Shadows the heat, the sweltering thoughts
Erasing July quicker than sunlight erases
The dew from tender petals who remember
Only the beginnings of dawn’s presence
Soon, Autumn will write its lyrics in dancing
Leaves, vibrant promises of scarlet and gold,
Enchanting the dreams with laughing hues,
Music playing quietly on the still, cool morning
When a heart reaches through the misty air
This is the best recollection of the autumnal
Wings, airborne, soaring gracefully over the
Trembling skies – into the endless veils, vapors
Still, ashen clouds, mysteries in the heavens,
Inspiring poetry from those who write visions…
Warmest wishes, feelings like leaves faded
Beneath the strongest branches, oaks and birch,
Inspirations beguiling the moon to heed the stars,
Blow away the doubts from the storms, rains falling
Melodiously, stirring the embers of a heart, a soul
August noon awaits the temptations so soon removed,
Washed away by the fond webs, the drying memories,
In tones of ashen amber, soothing auburn, reflections
Breathing out psalms along the mountain ridges,
Repeating the trembling hopes, the dreams of a spirit
Eminent woes, memories peeled away in layers –
Intimate and healing, reassuring that fall will be what it will be,
Always alive with reflections, embraces, traces of hope,
Heartfelt desires and wondering affections kissing the truth,
Abiding inside those who know this is God’s unfinished painting –
This is the treasure of summer poured out in wistful
Memories and promises, prayers for the seasonal grace,
The inspirational – the thanks, given to the One who
Captured light and poured it across the earth in one enchanting
Explosion of amazing, marvelous, stunning – even the greatest poet
Can’t write a wonder like that –
His hand, His sculpture, His creation… baffles even the most confident artiste
With God, there is no impossibility and no reason for upset
With Him, not only autumn, not just august, but the entire heart
– the whole life, the entire soul – is blessed!
Categories:
breathing out, appreciation, august, autumn, blessing,
Form:
Free verse
Rays of sunlight awaken and skies of sapphire inspire, when mother lies back with eyes veiled, breathing out life and breathing in spirit. She is the fertile earth and boundless sky. She glides through eternity, rising and falling. Her hair, once the color of midnight, now shines silver like beams from the full moon, and the stars encircling her, illuminate creation, igniting dreams and enchanting sleepless nights. As we, who no longer walk barefoot upon the earth, busy ourselves, forgetting to lift our eyes in witness to her majesty and her beauty and her grace. Our hearts still beat in unison with her essence. Beneath the stars, we walk upon the same dusty earth as our ancestors. The sky rumbles all around us with echoes of the past, and in stillness, she feels the knees of the forgotten pressed against her chest giving thanks for her nurturing breath.
spirits veil her eyes -
drifting through sapphire sky
constellations align
*Haibun form inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet’s Gaia
(for Debbie Guzzi’s Free Verse, Prose, Haibun Contest, 11/1/2014)
Categories:
breathing out, earth, nature, sky, spiritual,
Form:
Haibun
Life is like a gentle sigh
Breathing out a heartening reply
Coloring the thoughts in laughing gold
Silencing worries and struggles so untold
Whispering peace into the heart and soul
Lighting up the spirit so it’s alive and whole
Easing the broken heart with warm hope
That comforts the solemn, helping them cope
Breaking through the worry and pain
Soothing the heart who knows the rain
Life isn’t about who will always win the race
It’s about who will love with kindness and grace
Inspired by Jo Daniel’s poem, Life is not – which I dearly loved
Categories:
breathing out, life,
Form:
Couplet
something feels out of place,
maybe my thoughts are twirling in the wind
- i am just not sure which one, at this moment in time -
i wish i knew. . i wish i could explain it (breathing out a deep sigh)
there is a void, yes- an emptiness here
emotions toss, back and forth -
they don’t seem to have any direction;
none at all
how can this be?
my heart aches and it slowly breaks
yet, i don’t know why
. . something feels different, not like it should be
i just wish i understood, so i could explain it to my heart
___________________
- sometimes, thoughts tangle every emotion -
* a little scribble from the heart *
Author's Note: One should always feel happy, safe and at peace- in the Poetry World. This heart of mine is having a hard time understanding how negative thoughts, bullies and anger, even jealousy can reside in Poetry.
(Always be different from the World)
Categories:
breathing out, emotions, heart,
Form:
Free verse
A black stone with diamonds inside
She shines but you would never know
They hit her but she never falls
They whip her but she never breaks
Speed in her step even though they try to slow her down
Make her fail, just so that they can beat her down
Again and again
But they never get the chance
They tell her she's property
Meant to be owned
Planting plants that their too lazy to grow
In their eyes she's just a cotton-picker
But she knows better than to believe their foolish words
Black as night
But bright as a star
Hard as a diamond
Hard to break
Locked in a concrete box
That's hard to take!
She writes with passion
In the shadows
Hidden from her captures
Writing the truth of her sufferings
Sometimes writing away the reality of her captivity
White clouds surrounding her
Caving in
Watching her every move
So clear but so dark and evil at the same time
She barely wants to move
But she doesn't have a choice
She writes with her heart
Not with her head
Writing is her release
Reading is her consumption
Breathing out then slowly inhaling each and every word
Falling deeper into someone else’s life and wishing it was her own
That’s why she started writing
To create a new reality for herself
Envisioning a world of peace
Released from the cage that she has been confined to
But the cruel world that she has been cursed with by God
Creeps its way up to her neck
Taking hold of any freedom that she had created for herself
In those so few minutes alone
Pulling her from her slumber
Stripping her of her innocents
Marking her with fire
Crippling her into ashes
Making her realize that there is no way out of this alive
She can only pray for that last day to come sooner
The morning sun taking her out of her trans, making her sufferings all the more relevant
Categories:
breathing out, color, discrimination, slavery,
Form:
Narrative
While November pleads with the heart, a sense of pure praise stills the light, comforting the rising rhythms of trembling beats, the cadence of autumn seeping into winter… by poet
In the doorway of November, still and quiet
Listening for the first flakes – silent
Soft and feathery snow, motionless on the night
While the bursts of stars peak and wink,
Beneath an enchantment, so startlingly white…
In the entrance to November, healing
Each heart wrenching burden,
Urging the freedom, blazing with eloquence,
Pouring out hope on the purpose of a winter’s
Knowing, bursting with frosty whispers,
Melancholic and remembering…
At the start of sweet November, softly
Breathing out the poetry, the psalms the praise
Arising in the fiery moments before words
Know the promises, the promptings, the pieces
Of a heart, a soul, a spirit…
Arising on the starlit moments, wishing
On stars, glistening in the skies, heavens alive
Like the alabaster sighs, rising, rising…
In the heady grace of a November day,
Blazing like the pangs of grief,
Stifling the wings of a poet’s need – starving
For the way to say what needs to be said…
Pouring out feelings, blessings, regrets
Meanings that remember where we were,
What we said…
Before November started to bring her rest,
Before she cried, before she begged
From the music of a teardrop, startling
The easy flakes, blowing in
Winds of light, wings of faith, on slivers
Light, wispy as crumpled patches of snow,
Falling, blowing, blessing away the drifting
Griefs, the seething, burning
Echoes of moments before November spun
Out of control and startled the heart,
The feelings, the belief….
That fated moment when November sees
Light falling, blessing, erasing
The gray and soundless echoes
So we can see… the still, cool grace
In November’s presence,
November’s p r a i s e … praising the Creator
Of all those November days!
Categories:
breathing out, appreciation, autumn, nature, november,
Form:
Free verse
Once I was a little girl, caught up in dreams
Coloring my world in hues of crimson blood
Flowing through my veins of glittering gold
Whispering feelings of mesmerizing insights
Into the inspirations created from my spirit
Once I was filled with brilliant tones of purple
Sighing with vivid arrays of soothing blue hope
Enchanting the warmth living within my heart
Reflecting soothing sincerity alive with serenity
Capturing my vision and revealing pieces of me
Once I was encouraged by the honesty I could see
Dancing, swaying softly, with a sense of empathy
Filling up the gentle embrace of a familiar place
Where I could see the satisfaction I believed to be
A part of me, the piece that imagines true reveries
Once I was delighted to be alive and free to exist
With shades of peaceful, misty frost, touching upon
Emerald and sapphire ridges and peaks where I knew
The difference between wisdom and knowledge, a walk
Through the combination of faith mingled with courage
Once I was growing stronger in my heart and soul
Discerning the changes that came about with miracles
That graced me with their amazing purity and creativity
Assurance that everything I could hope to be or believe
Would be wrapped up in shadows of promising fantasies
Once I was a fiery yearning breathing out truth and passion
Inspired by sensitivity and melancholy, rich sincerities
Murmuring touches of comfort through my depths
Portraying the essence of dedication and loyalty within
Lulling my anxieties to slumber and finally leave me
Once I was a little girl who only knew the meaning of hope
Through small instincts that left her with a passionate wish
For the moments filled with sincerity, acceptance and faith
The discerning of the spirit that would bring peace and grace
Feelings of security filled with a sure belief in God’s love for me
If this was my last poetry contest poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
July 17, 2020
Categories:
breathing out, appreciation, blessing, god, growth,
Form:
Free verse
"What a Lark"
I used to be inspired once
like a lark beating it’s wings
higher and ever higher into a
golden and blue eggshell sky.
Hailstones hit me
during ascension
and I’ve fallen
into steep decline,
lying on a pavement somewhere
where bystanders walk by
ignorant and blind
to this broken
once shiny-winged lark
who sings no more
only breathing out shallow stories
bleeding into the right-hand margins
of a page, in a final chapter with no lines,
it's not lore.
Written on the body
deep under the skin
where no one else can see me
save a person pluck each feather out
and make them as their quill,
you could try to find a story there
if you dare -
then go ahead
and dip your chosen quill
in the heart inkwell
of this Lark,
and continue writing for her
with her magic blood from heart
to your heart,
but not in spite;
The Lark’s story
bleeds into that spartan white page
with no lines
except those damn margins
are keeping everything in
so tight and refined;
the rules are the margins
that require erasing
by and by.
There is a white page
begging to be coloured
with beautiful visages and rhymes
with more than what is read
you may find a story there my friend -
it’s of smoke and mirrors, grit and city
flights of love and
mores the pity
betrayal and disloyalty
and lies the hailstones hit
but they’re melting to invisibility
when the Sun shines out it’s ****
and she's remembering now
all that is hidden beauty in her dreams
as her eyes close softly lit.
The Lark lies on the pavement
breathing her stories out
into the Etheric Plane
bit by bit,
but no one holds the key yet,
to her Very Sacred Script.
A big black cat strolls ever closer by
arching his back he sees The Lark
and wonders why she don’t cry,
spill her guts;
He is drawing ever closer now,
so close he can feel her breath
and he reaches out a paw
"silently amuse me", he purrs, "just a little tweet",
A muse silently and slowly awakes
to touch his claw with her beak
and she tries
to taste the sweets.
Lovejoy-Burton, December 2017.
Categories:
breathing out, betrayal, courage, dark, desire,
Form:
Free verse
(THE GHOST)
In the naked eye,
Pure death approaches!
Incredibly hollow, kick the bucket long ago
No, whiff nor smell when “THE GHOST” is around
Abuses the whiteness, in which exists inside these sheets
It can be the cost and the intellect of your overdose in question
Go ahead and dig your own grave
I have already commissioned your headstone
You won’t be remembered,
The aftermath this GHOST creates
---will leave you babbling, even in your crate
This is that whiteness you do not want to feel or taste.
Once he or she was a nobody, is now “The Infamous Ghost!”
The one that lives inside your ‘Indian Hollow Walls.’
The Ghost’ leaves heat behind in your room.
It prowls around,
---leaving you within a near death experience every night.
This' ghost left behind will wreak mayhem on your soul,
Shh! Listen to your walls, they speak quite a routine.
Once you see yourself with broken wind, and watery eyes.
Do not believe this is your maker in the process.
‘The Ghost’ with eyes so potent compels a numbing stare!
If there really is such a thing as reincarnation,
Then you had better remember
--- that this ghost was a ghost in its own past life
‘The Ghost’ can have you breathing out tears so intense
Leveling your entire room with fear
Not even your frightened watery eyes will salvage your soul
Nothing will come in handy before you expire.
‘The Ghost’ will incinerate your obituary.
…READING…
“There is nothing to Fear but Fear itself! “By Franklin D. Roosevelt!”
That, and the fear is all this fearless 'Ghost will leave behind.
Everlasting rational fear.
-Happy Halloween-
Categories:
breathing out, abuse, bullying, death, fear,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
When you have a beautiful beaming dream enter
the mouth smiles as together we drift away
As a moon face gets brighter accepting new beginnings
Flowers sway in your breathless air synchronized
by the spring music warmly breathing out sighs
Softly sunshine lifts our spirits free
Walking upon the yellow brick
road joining hands fingertips hold intertwining swans forever mate
Beauty on wings regal passion poesy on silk flowing sheets
Floating warmly dancing butterflies skip
under the tenderness softly embracing
Sharing sweet fluttering kisses from early morn unto late night
Heartbeats skip into one fire joining souls
in flowery band of white anemones binding us together one garland
Under a bridge bending heaven's sunshine colour baptised love
A Collaborated Poem 05.04.2016
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid :)
Categories:
breathing out, beauty, blessing, emotions, romance,
Form:
Free verse
When Summer starts her transitory reign,
King Sun, her beau, has steadily ascended,
brightening a sky that, for a time,
shall be his lovely mistress’ domain.
He reaches out his welcoming warm rays
across the span of Summer’s first official day,
lengthening them just as far as he is allowed
so he may well receive his paramour,
enveloping her in the fullest of his golden grand embraces.
But when night descends, Sun’s power wanes.
His wife, a goddess, the fair and steadfast Luna,
arrives to spell her king,
along with her attendants, a host of radiant stars.
Meanwhile, Mistress Summer softly slumbers,
faintly breathing out the warmth that Sun has wrapped her in.
So even in the dark’s coolness, she prevails.
In the dewy dawn, when she awakes,
Summer sees the beauty of her lover’s light and eagerly,
she spurs her King Sun on.
No two were ever so well-matched as these,
for both heat up the days with their consuming ardor
till the time of the equinox
when Summer is exiled for nine months,
to have her rebirth in the following year.
And year after year, for what could be eternity,
Sun bides his time, for he has many lovers. . .
But as lovers go,
it’s Summer who’s most expert at inciting the passion in his soul.
by andrea dietrich/ Motif is nature. Also romance
For the Impress Me Contest III of Giorgio V.
Categories:
breathing out, nature, summer, sun,
Form:
Personification
The tribesman described his mysterious God;
a pious fear oozing from his veins,
eyes burning with intense, religious fervor.
His God came down from the unknown skies;
red, lustrous body glittering in the brilliant sun,
enormous nostrils breathing out waves of hot air,
dazzling verses written on his majestic forehead,
gleaming weapons engulfed in a halo of luminescence,
an aura of supreme power inclosing his bloated body.
A sudden curiosity gripped my mind;
thirst for adventure tickled my senses,
I accompanied the tribesman to see his God.
A big thatched hut came before my eyes;
Its doorway guarded by grotesque sculptures,
fear struck people standing in respectful silence,
wizened priests muttering mysterious chants;
I entered the temple and saw the God;
It was a red German weather balloon.
Categories:
breathing out, life, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
One step I go back, and
I see you holding my hands...
With a smile, walking down the lanes.
Yesterday I acquainted me in you
When your hands grabbed mine in your fears
With such reliance, allaying down the pains.
And Today when I stood still
I saw myself lost in despair
When my hands sorely waved you goodbye.
Another step I go back, and
I see you resting on my shoulder
With an ease, breathing out all your whimseys.
Yesterday I held myself in you
When you hugged me in your tenderness
With such peace, grieving away all the hearsays.
And Today when I fastened myself
I felt I betrayed your trust
When my arms direly opened to free your life.
Further I stepped to go back, and
I see you lying up on me abreast
With an intimacy, desiring all your fondness.
Yesterday I mellowed my soul in yours'
When you lusted me in your reverences
With such warmth, melting down all the iciness.
And Today when I lie down
I realized I burnt my essence
When my deity hollered out to coffined my soul.
Yet I wanted to go back, and
I see my shadow fading out slowly under the daylight
With such isolation, deafing all those mirthful moments.
Yesterday I was in a state of solitude
Till I acquainted with your heart and soul
With such reliance, peace and warmth, gratifying all forbearance.
And Today I am back, where I was
I raged as it was hard to believe
When my heart panicked to say you GOOD-BYE.
Categories:
breathing out, life, loss, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
Struck down
powerless with astonishment
as the Brocken spectre took its shape
Forming one shadow breathing out
from the misted oceans
A fierce bitter wind whispers
curling cries around the mountain
howling suffering tunes
Where an odd sound echos strangely
three times striking the spine with ice trembles
Then the crunch of lightening suddenly strikes this note
darkness causes uneasy feelings
when the shield of light is blinding
to the lost yet to be found wanting
Opposite the sun enormous magnified shadows
begging to be seen casting lots
upon the surfaces of clouds opposite
one head crowned figure emerges
surrounded by glowing halo-like rings
the formation of glory rises
from within shaping destiny
Where rings of coloured light appear
directly opposite the sun
when sunlight finally meets a cloud
of uniformly-sized water droplets
refreshing the misted vision held bathed
Categories:
breathing out, deep, faith, light, ocean,
Form:
Free verse