Best Emotions Poems
I thought I was a poet who had a pen of gold
With clear access to writing that was mature and bold.
I thought I could go roaming beside the foaming sea
And watch the seagulls gliding to give a show for free.
I thought I was a poet who walked along the beach
In awe I stood and wondered, my hand stretched out to reach
The silver thread dividing the water from the sky
And traced Selena’s features as slowly she went by.
I thought I was a poet who knew what joy could be
On hearing water roaring cascading down with glee.
I looked for inspiration, experienced utmost thrill
When climbing down the valley or up the verdant hill.
I thought I was a poet in charge of heat and cold
But lost my true emotions when I was duped and told
I had to reach perfection to please my heart and mind
By means of imitation. My soul I left behind.
I thought I was a poet who had a pen of gold
But now all of a sudden I’m weary, frail and old.
I thought I was a poet. My pen is of no use.
With teary eyes I whisper to my dejected muse.
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Contest: First Place Only
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Placed 1st ~ 18th June 2016
Contest: Any Poem #36
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placed 1st ~ 13th March 2016
Contest: Million Dollar Poem
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placed 1st ~ 13th June 2015
Chosen Poem of the day ~ 8th May 2015
On a special Suicidal Night,
I sit alone inside this nightmare
In a nightmare with no windows
Nobody can see me
I can see nobody
Flowers, above
My eyes have darkened to a color never seen before
Forever closed!
It Rains! It Rains!
Beyond this ocean, I've drowned too many times
I remember cascades of water below my eyes
My satin sheets wrinkle and cold
I fail and die every night
No one understands the pain that kills me every day
Wounds that reach 6 feet deep
Lucid demons
Bleeding wrist
Scary dreams
My mind is still screaming
---
Incomplete
Torn
Broken-
Is how I live
I'm alone-
No one's around.
My body's like a coffin
Stiff in my own home.
-Escape of the mountain-
Do you care about my breast?
The new curve - countryside corset
The beauty of every summer dress
Laying down, wearing out gravity
Embracing the same feeling;
Your hands indulged in
Passion and devotion
around perfumed scenery
The perfect pair
Today we will pray,
Counting every second on the clock
No longer the womanly figure before'
I will possess a new battle,
around the virtues of my palace.
Will you still be there,
when the hump and lump are gone?
Will I still be the queen of your heart?
Patiently I shall wait and see
in hopes to gain the time breast cancer stole
Leaving behind torn tissue, with a daily reminder of;
The one that got away.
I relinquish my pen before the storm
of her tears falling upon my bare arm
her gentle whispering breathed in my ear
Muse of mine, adieu to your wit and charm
With piqued reasons I have come to deduce
It's time to say fond farewell to my muse
She should seek a new poet and lay claim
for my words have grown utterly abstruse
Spare me sullen eyes, from cries in refrain
I shall not weep in sadness nor disdain
Bitterness does not become a recluse
My poet's heart weakens, I dare not feign
Time's drawn the shades in darkness of night
No candle flame shall glimmer enough light
in which I may be tempted before morn
to doubt seclusion and attempt to write
Cloistered without pen, I shall ever be
From thinking in rhyme I shall be set free
Poems half written on bits of scrap paper
I shall lock away and then toss the key
My hand has retired, this last poem now penned
No more idyll thoughts of mind will transcend
Bereft of rhymes and abandoned of verse
This poet knows her time has reached an end
Ink no longer flows through my tunneled veins
Expressed emotions in poetry wanes
And when interred, on my stone I shall read,
"Reclusive poet" over my remains
Our lives are not immune to the impact of time,
nor is our mind between the tensions of love and hate.
That's why I curse this wanderlust heart -
still searching for that wandering star.
without a guide - without a love to call my own.
I try not to look back, but sometimes certain scents,
remind me of things that saw me as a minority.
A summer heart misplaced in winter's wickedness,
a child frozen in the passages of a stolen childhood.
Ingredients of my life are a juxtaposition of flavours,
finding purity among diseased hearts,
fighting against principles of corrupt minds
and I hurt nobody - until they pushed me,
it was never about the physical - but the mental.
Silence is different in adolescence -
suppressed into a protective bubble,
you reject the harshness of existence.
My small hands could not hold the burdens,
so I was mute as demons slayed my father,
his anger drowning my brothers into darkness.
Tears of my mother, dehydrated my soul,
so I grew like a tree with broken branches -
sometimes naked, sometimes an abundance of green.
Even in an obscure world of nightmares,
my heart was a light bulb, full of dreams -
but misplaced in a place of misunderstanding.
I adopted silence in the violence,
because I struggled with reality's fabrications.
Fatherless,
I found acceptance in the war on the streets,
where love was poison, but hate brought prosperity.
Only surviving due to my father's name,
yet I knew it was an unwinnable game.
My hands were pacifying guns,
so I learned to exist without bullets.
I was a black sheep in a strange white herd,
opposing shepherds who couldn't tolerate me.
A clean soul in a dirty social order -
a peaceful heart seeking a place to call home.
Silence is a choice in adulthood.
I used to ignore the pain from unhealed wounds,
but today the inner child screams and shouts,
because oppressors can no longer mute my tongue.
Death taught me not to be bitter,
stubborn fingers how to bleed ink onto paper -
showing compassion in an ugly world.
If life was so simple, we wouldn't look at it differently.
Our perceptions are based on what we have learned,
what was, what is to come and what we search for.
Where you end up depends on how you deal with the past.
*The Dead Poet*
Many blocks along the road,
Kicking down walls of heavy stones,
Yet no one could draw through the walls of her lonely bones.
A poet who could not write what's inside.
Her pen had gone ink dry.
Her beady eyes lost the feel of an angelic realm.
She tried!
She tried until she could no longer cry!
A poet who stuttered with the mind and out came no words.
This poet hangs on a mound with a picture that tells a sad tale.
A poem that broke verses in a Carpe diem dream.
She ruffled her arms once more as if she could fly.
Still nothing,
Everything felt dead inside.
Trap in a mental state that clots the willing vein.
Isolating her form in a room with no door.
She stays this away from the feel of the marvel pen.
To never go back, and feel again.
In the most ominous way,
She lets out a cry,
A cry, never heard before.
Running from this evil, that stain her world.
Words buried deep and behind a new exterior box,
Her insides grasp all the air of air once alive.
A talon drop into the next,
This troublesome poet gave up on everything.
Had nothing left, but the empty space within.
Next!
She curls herself into a fetal world.
At last, she closes her eyes, to feel no more.
A poet who died the day, joy wiped the glee from her face.
by;PD
"Letting Go!"
Behind that garden rail
Where worms squirm and roam,
They dig into every bad part of my day
I feel them crawling, making my hide their home
They feast on my will and my dead walking soul.
Slowly I am fading away into a cloud of nothing.
I find myself reminiscing the moment I meet you.
With scars and guilt, I won’t let go!
I’m cold and miserable inside
Different emotions, I can no longer hide
I can’t seem to heal the deep cut within
Echoes twist the mood that has no meaning
I sit with a jar full of tears, holding on tight
Afraid of letting go!
The hollow walls slay in every way
The abyss of a waterfall resides in my heart
This throbbing starvation, repeats the taste it longs for
I have no control, I can’t feed without you by my side.
I won't let go!
by:PD
Here, I scribble a letter
to the rhapsodical rose,
dipping my quill in
stardust that slips
like a violet waterfall
from the tips of
white oak trees.
These marigold
orbs shine with
shimmering streaks
of sugar coated mist,
as I twist my palm
and breathe in
the lavender light
of kismet, while
tender tulips
soothingly sleep
upon the sweet seeds
of nostalgia.
O Mi Amour,
our lambent love
is but a succulent
sea full of stars,
where buttercup boats
sail in emerald
evanescence and
gentle lulls of
champagne waves
kiss those scarlet
shells of secrets,
echoing with
vibrant whale-songs.
Can you feel the
mulberry bluebells
chiming as I glide
on pistachio
plateau of promises?
Am I your soulful dynasty,
just as you are my
star-spun Prince
descended from the eden,
my healer from
charismatic realms and
my last lachrymose wish?
You're a museum
of art for the
moon-shaped chimera
of peonies painted
with hazel silk
and this chameleon
danger holds no
manifestation in
our foreign folklore,
because when
the last dewdrops
dance with sunlight,
holographic memories
of 'You and I',
will forever
remain alive in
the tamarind tales of
watercolor wildflowers.
So, when the
jinxed icicles cut
me with their
silver sword,
spring shivers
in snowy meadows
and the sun sets
along the horizon
of our ruffled story,
you'll always
hear these husky
notes of my
exotic scents
lingering in ivy
laced rains and
falling upon the
graffiti of your
ruby bones.
You'll eternally hear
celestial serenades,
singing in raspberry
language of our
incensed love which
will erase the
acetone sadness
of my unwritten absence
and those crimson
ribbons of violin's ode
will spin our saga
around those
slaty branches
of bitter destiny.
There’s a beguiling danger in beauty…
seduced as I was by the fickle fingers of fate musingly stroking my hair,
I envisaged
this lusciously lavish landscape
of sun-raptured heavenly hills and valid valleys
to be a lush, plush place for me to land ~
alas, such deception my naive perception did offer.
Buried beneath the facade of a fertile dream-come-true
and a mesmerizing mirage of natural light and zephyrus breaths -
where your thoughts hugged the horizons of my mind
like clouds on the edges of prairie dog skies
and where your stampeding passions trampled my inhibitions -
were delicate bandeaux of ice;
finespun and feathery like polar gossamer
that formed on the stems of your ruptured dreams
that then became my nightmare
when you had your hard freeze
while warm sap still flowed through your veins,
pumped and pushing through your broken being
and freezing on contact with the chilled clime
cocooning me, in a sudden silken surge of your glazing gauze
holding me, in the vivid wild magic of your frosted crystallized clutches -
fossilizing me, in icy opalescent ribbons of ornate whorls.
Unable to escape the grasping glacial petals of your exquisite pain,
your frost flowers plunged me into the frigid heart
of your bitter bluestem’s prairie winter...
There’s a beguiling beauty in danger
hypnotized and hijacked
as I was by the rhythmic sways of your tall grass ways -
your flickering tongue tasting my air
as my emotions were extorted
till I was bled white -
obviously oblivious
that I was being preyed upon
by a stealthy force of nature motivated by indigenous instincts.
Susan Ashley
March 13, 2018
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Poetry for the Sake of Poetry
Sponsor: John Lawless
*bluestem: tall grass native to the Great Plains with bluish leaf sheaths*
*frost flower: thin layers of ice extruded from long-stemmed plants in autumn or early winter. These thin ice layers form dainty ‘ribbons’ or ‘petals’*
I wonder about her
as I shave suet and place thistle seed down -
once again
she reveals herself to the corner of my eye
a slight movement caught in the slant of a sunray
just enough to separate her shy form
from leaf litter camouflage
I turn to look at her
demure and just out of reach - yet
she seems to know I feel for her..
I regard her presence for a handful of heartbeats
before she hastens away in a certain way
head moving forward first then feet catching up
..rustling the earthy rust of gold;
fallen maple stars strewn beneath an arborvitae row..
a wing hanging down by her side
like a gate with a broken hinge
her gateway to freedom gone
she’s become a body bound to soft soil -
flesh and bones destined to feed the trees of life
soon her feathers - like thistle down - will animate aloft
weightless in soulful breaths of a swirled November wind..
pearls of muted beauty lost in innocence
given back to the skies
I wonder about the tender fragility of a tomorrow
in an air where mourning coos
are watered down by whimsical tears of gods
and stirred by a mortal’s yearn for return to natural flight
I commiserate with her silently —
for I am broken too
Susan Ashley
November 17, 2020
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Brian Strand No 1175
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Second Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 17
Sponsor: Mark Toney
I walked in darkness along the shore
seeking only solitude and nothing more
Thunder drummed from somewhere far away
like foreboding timpani as clouds began to play
They competed with the roar of bally waves
crashing to the beach in rhythmic laves
Everything was out of reach for me
the moon, the stars, the depth of the sea
Echoes of a nocturne were swirling in my head
Lyrics left unsung, but spoken instead
My soprano continued; the falsetto stopped
Too weak to stand, on my knees I dropped
My footprints had been erased by an ebbing tide
No longer able to run. I chose not to hide
Blind in the darkness, my loneliness daunting
a flash of lightning, then another more taunting
I lifted my eyes to the sky, to the falling rain
its sting delivered in a medley, staccatos of pain
On the edge of the sea, I waited for the end of me
My tears an ensemble, an elegy in requiem plea
I ignored the orchestra when I heard the ocean call
louder than kettle drums or the storm's howling squall
No encore would this night be able to reprise
When the flowing tide encroached, I closed weary eyes
A chorus of waves crashed like cymbals in concerto
stealing the baton from the hand of the Maestro
The moon and stars were out of reach for me
I wept as I was swept into the depth of the sea
August 28, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 13 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
the raspy whisper
finally
gets my full attention -
wistfully I smile
..for its persistence reminds me of you..
the crisp red leaf
scuttles scrapingly
across the gray pavement
to and fro
like a dancing crab
moving with the whims of the winds
chasing me
as it seemed like I had once chased my dreams;
blown in directions left up to chance
..until I met you..
..is it now, as it was then
Destiny?
for in this instant, my sense of direction
seems predestined..
a smoky scent
spices the chilled blue air
reminding me of our cozy nights
curled with the fire
..entranced
as we were
with our warmth
and our flame..
could it be
love signals from the hearth
calling me home..?
..my soul
feels akin to the red leaf,
the wafting smoke
and I am ready to follow..
Would the cold atmosphere be so cruel
as to play capricious tricks upon my eyes... or
..is that really
YOU
standing there..?
Oh!
my beloved,
how my broken spirit
has suffered
in my pining desire to be with you -
I run to you!
years of yearning prayers answered
fingertips straining - stretching further
reaching out to touch you,
the whole of my being aching
to hold you and enfold you
..ah, I feel your heat
so very close to me..
Alas!
I fall to my knees,
my arms empty
but for the loss I carry..
your warm breath
on the nape of my neck
only my hot want
brewed with a cool wisp of the breeze
..Oh, God! Please!
just let it be
let me go..!
my forsaken flame less than a dying ember;
I but ashes in my grief
withered
in my autumn season
without you
still...
I’m slow to realize...
that your fading glow just the sun slanting low
blurring wicked whimsy with my wild sorrow
in the burning of these bitter tears.
Susan Ashley
December 2, 2018
~ First Place ~
Contest: NA the day away
Sponsor: Lu Loo
*N/A’d: Best Free Verse 2019 Poetry Contest*
~ Honorable Mention ~
Contest: Your Choice (2) Any Theme, Form
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Poem Of The Day ~
December 4, 2018
It's raining again, grey neon skies,
washing away suppressed surfaces,
to reveal unhealed wounds,
to scars the eyes cannot see
sometimes they bleed.
Some say words heal,
but I resist to express them,
because I'm afraid of my vulnerabilities,
anxious about tears I've never cried.
You only see the smile,
no one remembers that naive boy,
waiting at the window
for the shepherd who forgot his flock,
and he was no black sheep
if only I could reach him now
so he would not grow up like he did not belong,
stop searching for something,
he did not know how to find.
Stop composing that melancholic symphony,
recycling emotions, he did not understand,
I would tune his piano keys,
repair his violin's broken strings,
but
there are too many silent secrets,
blood stained walls will never reveal.
You left me behind,
with an empty toy box,
taking with you childhood hopes,
so ensued a vacuum of darkness -
sucking me deeper into confusion.
I remember watching you walk away,
along a path of overgrown weeds.
If it was not for the gift of mum's marbles,
I would not have laid an alternative path,
creating my protective bubble,
so I could float away, from all the troubles
until I lost them too.
Tell me father,
how was I to become a man?
You pushed me upon my knees,
like a cherry blossom in the wind.
A victim of your sins,
struggling to rise in adolescence,
I kept faith in the path of marble,
grateful for the guidance of my bubble.
After years of silence
upon your final sighs,
watching you die without words,
tears exploded for a stranger,
forgiving broken promises,
forgetting your crimes -
cursing stubbornness and bitterness,
thinking maybe it was me,
not just you
questions that will never be answered.
Today I stand before your bed of marble,
no need for a bubble, I feel no emotions.
After all I am a product of my childhood,
and you were a result of your own.
Silent One
18 August 2019
Verse 1
I would love to be your comfort
A blanket when you're confused
A bright song on every dark day
Warmth and hope you cannot lose
To be the canopy to cover you
When life’s storms come your way
I can be the one you’ve longed for
'Cause I hear the words you don't say
Pre-Chorus
Let the past slip through your fingers
Those old ghosts fade from sight
Take my hand and feel the difference
You're walking into light
Chorus
When our worlds collide, love paints the sky with quiet fire
With colors only born from deep desire
You're safe in my arms, girl, don’t be shy
This is what it means when the night reshapes its light
And your heart finally whispers, “You’re mine”
Verse 2
Your eyes could light the skies tonight
That coy smile, wow... it melts my heart
My guitar plays you sweet love songs
This is our time when true love starts
Bridge
Drift away, lay your fears down
On this shoulder made for you
In the hush, hear my vow, my truth—
Every dream you dream, I’ll pursue
Chorus
When our worlds collide, love paints the sky with quiet fire
With colors only born from deep desire
You're safe in my arms, girl, don’t be shy
This is what it means when the night reshapes its light
And your heart finally whispers, “You’re mine”
Outro
Being with you, I’m filled with wonder
A kiss goodnight, no need to hide
In the morning, I’ll be your first sight
This is how it feels...
When our worlds collide
Love’s Alchemy is Eternal
Your look, touch, and scent now so perfect pure,
Enchants my true emotions and soaring passion.
I knoweth now our love shall always endure,
As God unites our souls as one by divine action!
Our sensual passion defines love’s spirit entire,
As we caress and kiss for this moment’s bliss.
Love’s alchemy maketh our spirits soar afire,
As we embrace our lips find that deepest kiss!
Our hearts beat now in a sacred tempo of love,
That reflects our real destiny, two souls as one.
This is God’s gift to us from Heaven high above,
As we wish these magic moments of eternal fun!
By Heaven, I pray our love’s alchemy forever,
And declareth my love shan’t leave you ever!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
June 27, 2016 (Shakespearean Sonnet)