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Best Heartbreak Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Heartbreak poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of heartbreak poems written by PoetrySoup members

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The Best Heartbreak Poems

Details | Heartbreak Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Tell the Night to Hold Me


I made for you, a castle
     But I built it in the sand
          I steadfastly tried to constrain the tide
               But the bastions didn't stand

I planned for you, an Eden
     With needs to see us through
          But the ripened fruits had corrupted roots
               And I fed them all to you 

          Tell the night to hold me
          I no longer have your arms
          I'll brood and swoon, cradled by the moon
          Still pining for your charms

          Tell the night to hold me
          June no longer follows May
          'Til the moonbeams, blue, drift me back to you
          I'll forget about you ... every day.

I dreamed for you, a family
     With two parts that acted one
          Yet my truth's demise only bred goodbyes
               Lucid of the tales I'd spun

I wished for you a future
     Ripe with jubilance and mirth
          Still I left recanted and took for granted
               The measure of its worth

          Tell the night to hold me
          I no longer swim your eyes
          Instead I stare into vacant air
          And count the countless why's

          Tell the night to hold me
          'Til Apollo's old and gray
          For until the stars are not mine, but OURS
          I'll forget about you ... every day.

I desired for you a partner
     Who would stand beside you, true
          Though that came to be, that man wasn't ME
               And it broke my heart in two

I promised you'd be happy
     And in ways, that's come to be
          Wed a man who's good - loves you as he should
               I just wish it had been me

          Tell the night to hold me
          It no longer heeds my will
          As I feared the most, I've become a ghost
          And I haven't tears to spill

          Tell the night to hold me
          For I've no more left to say
          Please remand what's just as I turn to dust
          And forget about you ...

Every day ...

          'Til I'm swept with wind, away.




~ 1st Place ~  in the "Last Letter To My Beloved" Poetry Contest, Silent One, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Piece De Resistance" Poetry Contest, The Name Forsakes Me, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Lost Love 2017 Poetry Contest", John Hamilton, Sponsor.



Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017


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My Affair With A Frost Flower State Of Affairs



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 and 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 big-bluestem 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 ~ Contest: Poetry for the Sake of Poetry Sponsor: John Lawless
* big 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 beautifully dainty ‘ribbons’ or ‘petals’ *


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018


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My Heart Will Go On

POTD 30th August 2018 

The gently swaying branches of the old oak should elicit calmness
And yet a sense of foreboding permeates the midnight air
Wild imaginings?  Or did shadows flit across the leaf strewn path?
No time to dwell ~ She must make haste
Long afore the sun breaks on the morrow 
A day surely portent of wrath?

                                                    Freedom is in her hands tonight
                                         Release from a tyrannical father
                        A personage demanding unquestioned obedience

Movements morph into shapes ~ her father’s vicious hounds
Bred to kill ~ Caesar and Brutus
                ~ A chill tingling ripple runs up her spine~   
Baying ~ salivating ~ jumping high
                ~ Raring for release from muzzles and leashes
Tugged hard by camouflaged hands they jerk back disgruntled
Ferociously they sniff at the scent of blood drawing nigh               

Dear God … He knows their plan to elope …
They wait in the shadows Julius ~ his servant ~ she has sensed him Creeping ~ Listening ~ Following Stealthily comes her lover careful not to snap the twigs in the brush Caution yet eagerness in his gazelle like stride None the less the man marked for death defies a terror inside And an overwhelming trepidation she cannot hide
She must alert him of the danger ahead
Love thinks not with logic but with the mind of impulse Caution him she must ~ her father’s hunting gun will suffice God lend her wings she prays as down the wooden stairs she flies A scheme to foil a scheme in haste ~ is never easy to devise
With hands fumbling and trembling convulsively She lifts the weighty gun off the rack Snapping back the catch taking aim she fires upward Up into the midnight sky
Ka Boom ~ They hear in the darkness The errant bullet whistling through the air Misinterprets its mission Striking metal it ricochets Ka Boom ~ Fate changes its pathway of plans well laid An exchange for saving his life finding another target It embeds in her soft white flesh Extinguishing her burning shining light instead
Only he seems to hear that heart rendering surprised note in her scream Unmistakeable in Death ~ a melancholy hopelessness through that unfulfilled cry Tapering down to the whispering echoing sigh lies the ghostly warning Turn back! Turn back or you will die! Heedless to the unshackling of the muzzles, Mindless to the release of the constraining leads Sightless to the vicious hounds that to him streak ~ and Fearless of the cowardice measured by their evil deeds
With his Heart and Soul aflame and bleeding he races Screaming to his fallen Rose ~ indifferent for his own life Directly into their line of fire
Oh vengeful Nemesis carry their last piteous cries away ~ tarry naught Naught for unrepentant men who gloat at a mission complete Ignorant yet of the tragedy that awaits in the house on the hill Leaving their hounds to stay by the lifeless prey ~
Reward for the blood of the kill
The Broken Man Weeps The sun sets an angry red The aura round the moon glows a crimson hue The Broken Man Sobs While On her Grave An unwatered Rose Flourishes and grows Atoned by his tears instead
Footnote: I have always wanted to write a tragic love story – I’ve chosen the Title of the Poem ‘My Heart will Go On’ to highlight that the heart of the Rose, albeit somewhat vengeful, still ‘goes on’ seeking atonement. The melancholy music ‘Titanic’ simply accentuates this tragedy and has no connection to this story - I trust you have enjoyed this piece. Video Clip: 2 CELLOS Luka Sulic and Hauser


Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2018


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Venus Gifts A Yarrow's Kiss



Oh, weeping willow shed your sorrow on whispering breeze to soothe your grief within whose breaths a healing yarrow to whisk away tears upon your leaf. Sweet rustling zephyrs embraced in sway misty-eyed murmurs mournful wind-song a wistful heart in bosom ballet as shadows dancing with currents throng. Weep not, soulful shimmer neath sun’s gold for chartreuse vines fly the west winds’ bend enlightenment seeps in roots to hold as yarrow's pink kisses blown to mend. Susan Ashley August 13, 2018 ~ Second Place ~ 2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 1 Poetry Contest (Premiere Contest) Mark Toney
*the Yarrow flower of any color (I chose pink..), as a fragrant herb of Venus, is symbolic of a loving healer of a broken heart*


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018


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Midsummer Breeze

Midsummer Breeze 

How may I extol a midsummer breeze?
As soft as rose petals in cooling wind
That flutters leaves upon the verdant trees,
And endeavors to make the blossoms blend
From blooming boughs whose wistful petals drift
In a mélange of hues that blankets grounds
In vivid masterpiece of summer's gift,
Sharing red rose’s splendor that abounds.
Ten summers have passed since we said good-bye.
The son you never knew still causes tears
As evening shadows fill this twilight sky,
Through him I've loved you more all of these years.
	
Soon all is hushed in shadow's silhouette
When moonrise turns blue skies to violet


7-29-18

Not Just Any Old Rose Poetry Contest. ~Poem of the Day Jul 31, 2018~
Sponsor: Mark Massey ~7th placement premier contest~


Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2018


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Held aloft

We'd laid old George to rest the week before,
at ninety-one he now rejoined his wife,
no heirs to his estate, so one thing more
to do, and that's clear where he'd spent his life.
Downstairs had been quite easy, George was neat,
his things all had a purpose, neatly stored,
for tidiness this home was hard to beat
all clean and dusted, nothing was ignored.
It seemed almost that since his wife passed on
his solemn duty was to keep a shrine,
no other purpose now that she had gone,
he spent each day just sat, biding his time.
A plain and simple man, a life lived long
but opening a hatch proved we were wrong.

Met with a cold shaft of descending air
and particles of dust caught in the light
I climbed up while my friend steadied the stairs
feet dangling then disappeared from sight.
The torchlight didn't lie, I'd been deceived,
expecting just to find an empty space,
instead I stared unable to believe
how much there was in such a tiny place.
Now, yes, I would expect a Christmas tree
and Golf clubs that had long since seen a round,
a failed attempt at home brewing, maybe
and pictures he thought lost but never found.
But hidden in a tired old briefcase
were things well hid that old George couldn't face.

Tied in a green silk ribbon, slightly frayed
 letters to him from his loving Maureen
about over the years the plans they'd made,
a little odd, since his wife's name was Jean.
A small cardboard box held a simple note
with medal and a ribbon tucked inside
thanking him, someone's wife had briefly wrote,
for being with her husband when he died.
I sat and read, transfixed, beside the hatch
the commendation from his high command
for acts of courage, mentioned in dispatch
in battles fought across Tunisia's sands.
It seems for these few things George had no use,
the man who wouldn't say 'Boo' to a Goose.

No time to dwell on this, I carried on,
my eyes attracted to a wooden box
the thing that caught my eye as torchlight shone
was that the lid had far too many locks.
This was no safe, a simple wooden crate
that otherwise one wouldn't think about
easy to break but did such locks dictate
that what was in there wasn't coming out?
A screwdriver was all it took to break
the brass hinges and hasps around the lid,
this liberty I was about to take
I suddenly was sorry that I did.
I paused for breath and let some moments pass
my preconceptions shattering like glass.

Swaddled within a crocheted woollen shawl
doll-like but skin with a leathery feel
chin touching knees curled up into a ball
at first glance, just a toy- but this was real.
she looked maybe, oh, three months old, I guessed,
and judging by the romper suit, a girl,
in cheery pinks and white she lay there, dressed
with matching bonnet hiding wispy curls.
Horror and disbelief fought for control,
recoiling, heart rate now in overdrive,
a stark realisation gripped my soul
that George knew of this when he was alive.
This open box no longer could disguise
the George we thought we knew was built on lies.

Composure now regained, I reached inside
and gently pulled the card out from her hands
on which the feelings mother had to hide
were written for someone to understand.
“ I had my child in nineteen fifty two
but out of wedlock gave birth secretly
they would have taken her, what could I do?
She's all I had and was the world to me.
I moved away and found another place
a dingy hole, so damp, not very nice
one night I woke and saw her pallid face
and realised for this she'd paid the price.
In case folk find out she must stay unseen,
Please take care of her, George, my love- Maureen.

The loft now cleared is empty, hatch is closed,
Golf clubs and barrels gone to garage sales,
the picture frames, well, I hung on to those
and good dish cloths and towels still tied in bales.
The medals and dispatches soon will sit
within a glass case for the world to see
since they're a recollection truly fit
for such a hero no-one knew but me.
And what of the secret letters? They're all gone
ashes to ashes, as they surely must.
Child's memory will no longer live on,
returned now to the ground to turn to dust.
no trace left for the future, no more proof
that there were two Georges under one roof

For contest 'Photo story', sponsor Eve Roper. Picture number three.

15th November 2017








Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2017


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Memories Of Bygone Days

Memories Of Bygone Days


O' yes,  how well I remember her still
giant black oak atop big wooded hill
Those treasured days now long flown by
our free spirits flying so very high

Summer days within Nature's fine realm
majestic views that did so overwhelm
Cloudy days in the meadow far below
flowers galore, O' what a great show

My lady and I went up there to park
glorious scene set our hearts to spark
Under canopy of that old massive oak
she sweet words of undying love spoke

Our tree saw our love start to bloom
picture of that oak in our bedroom
Two years it watched our love grow
how was it to ever see or dare know

Life came and flew on us so fast
love came deeply but failed to last
Fate sent us onto far different treks
love destroyed, both lives were wrecks

Now I pass that massive tree on the hill
memory recalls her beauty , what a thrill
Time destroyed the scene it ruled then
O' the love of what should, could have been

JULY 2015





Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


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BEHIND THE SMILE

Just another sinking tear
In this river full of pain
Racing fast to nowhere
A world that's gone insane
Hope committed suicide
Before I had the chance
Forced to live without you
Teased by fool's romance

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

Everyone has the answer
None of them are right
The blind lead the blind
Pretending to have sight
Love is such a cruel illusion
A distracting fool's delight
Left me poor and naked
Under a waterfall of night

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

Handcuffed by our society
Scorned to a water grave 
Drowning in a sea of lonely
And too far gone to save

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

~Lyric Man

Note: I wanted to write a break-up song that was so painful.. each line works as a separate, horrific story. And it comes like unrelenting waves rushing over its helpless, loveless victim. And still, this broken soul tries to hide that they've drown in an eternal water grave of rejection, behind a blank, artificial smile. My hope was to create a picture of complete and utter emptiness. Because if you've tasted true love and then lost it forever.. that's how desperately awful it feels! 


Copyright © Lyric Man | Year Posted 2018


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In Woes And Throes Of Sorrow


I rise and fall like melancholy tides in ebb and flow of wistful disrepair, our separate in consciousness divides, the whiff of grief fills broken-hearted air. Neglected now, heartstrings' rawhide, I mourn with briny beads that water my dismay, eyes teary drizzled mist, inside forlorn, my psyche pierced by thorns in love's bouquet. Whatever will I do, this emptiness..? A gnawing hollow where my heart should be. My lonely preys me like a lioness, a simba stalks this lost love refugee. Soft morning sun does gaze into my eyes enlightening the depths of agonize. Susan Ashley November 17, 2017 ------------------------------ ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Best Sonnet Premiere Sponsor: Laura Loo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Your Best Sonnet October 1 - December 31, 2017 Sponsor: John Hamilton ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Poem Of The Day ~ November 18,2017


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2017


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Last breath of sunset

Royal blue sky scattered sapphire clouds
On horizon embroidered in navy blue attire
Summoned by the onset of marigold sun 
Emitting amber gold on tuscan yellow fire
Where tapestry of fluffy lavender floats
Decorating patterns of designs periwinkle 

Mosaic of colors then spray-paint the water
Spreading a layer of golden yellow cover
Shimmering gold dust on twilight ripples
Abutting brushstrokes of dark blue egyptian

I saw you briefly where first time we met
On the lonely bridge that extends into bay

But as the dark landmass peeked its head
And the lifeless vegetation glinted despair
The tangerine breeze announced your exit
Quivering our aura beneath glittering riffle

For you refused to witness impending flame--
Broken vows ablaze in last breath of sunset

August 4, 2018
Poem of the day on August 7, 2018



Copyright © Vijay Pandit | Year Posted 2018


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A Tear Drop On A Rose

A teardrop fell upon the rose That she held close to her breast. In sympathy, the petals closed, As she saw her love at rest. The rose it seemed to feel her pain As one by one her petals fell And upon the stem of thorns, Now fell the pouring rain. Bending down, she picked the petals And to herself, she drew them near; She saw, in the rose, her brokenheart And on the petal, her fallen tear. Between the pages of a book, She placed the petals tenderly And the rose, it shed a tear, As if it cried in sympathy The words, on the pages read, “Forever, my love, remember me And when you see a rose of red, Remember, love, to remember me”…


Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018


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Dirty Laundry

(She's Got Cooties)

Bitter every night, she speaks of another man
In dialogues, she rips and shreds my brothers sheets
Her moves are naught more than an exposed wound 
Riding dreams with no thought to spare 
With eyes, that lie every night,
Even, I believe every word from her prune lips

Silent she auctions words into the breeze
My brother's heart is so brittle, it hurts
She is lying, he's dying, a fool just to feel complete
At this point he believes, she was kidnapped by apes
She's not the kind of wife that sit on a trophy case
Once she removes the makeup, her face is gone
She is gone, gone, gone, 

A smile mocking infidelity, 
I scream, I want to beat her brains in
My brother begs her to rest, he prays
His wife will wash her dirty mouth
A kiss that hurts as she takes the air away, 
Pouring guilt, pretending it's his fault
After every sucker punch this past month
She left while he slept
A wicked in law, with no comparison
Breathing luscious sperm, she's a worm
Vacuuming another man's dream, 
She is gone, gone, gone, 

A weak link, wasting his time loving her
His heart murdered 19 years ago
My brother holds on to plain dumb hope
In hopes, she might stay longer than 3 days
His dreams are sweet, innocent and failed, 
Yet he won't stop dreaming of her loving lips
Heating up to nothing when she's not there
She is gone, gone, gone, 

Sometimes I just sit and wonder 
What sort of man, sits awake with his eyes shut
Daydreaming of a long life dream
Then I realize if he can dream
Why Can't I   

~Trashed #2, sponsor, Broken Wings~
9-22-15
Skat


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015


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For Sale

My Heart
Used
Still beats

My Heart
Low mileage
Over rocky roads

My heart
In vaulted box
Shipping included


No strings attached



Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015


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It Only Hurts When I Smile

I put a smile on my face when I go outside 

My friends all see the pain I try to hide in my eyes

And I try to act like I can make it on my own 

Since you've been gone I'm alone 

I suppose I'm gonna be here a while

And for the rest . . . of my life

 It only hurts when I smile.
.
I thought our love was strong

I didn't think you would leave

I think about about you all the time 

Do you still think about me?

and when I think of how I threw us away

It only hurts when I think 
.
The first time I laid eyes on you you took my breath away

I lost my breath again the day you walked away

Pain won't go and damage is done

And I just can't feel a thing

It only hurts when I breathe
.  
And I see where I went wrong

And I see what I've done

But I don't see you coming home to me

And when I look at it all that way

 It only hurts when I see
.
And I just can't live without you 

My heart is still in your hands 

And there's no "this" left to fix

And there's no "us" left to mend

And I guess I gotta live with it

So it only hurts when I live
.
I put a smile on my face when I go outside 

My friends all see the pain I try to hide in my eyes

And I try to act like I can make it on my own 

Since you've been gone I'm alone 

I suppose I'm gonna be here a while

And for the rest . . . of my life

 It only hurts when I smile.

And for the rest . . . of my life

 It only hurts when I smile.


Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw | Year Posted 2016


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A Child's Prayer

Clutched tight to my chest, the doll smiles lifelessly
sending vacant stares down the darkened hall.
A solitary line of pink light sneaks through a crack in the door.
Fighting tears hanging loosely in my eyes, I listen.
 
“Please tell daddy that I love him and miss him.”
It has been two months since he died. Long, hard months.
“Keep him safe.”
His smell still lingers on his clothes in the closet.
“and bless mommy to be happy…”
How can I be happy, or even smile, when all I want is to be numb?
The tears burn in my eyes, but I can’t cry, or I might never stop.
“so that she will play with me like she used to”
I can scarcely recall the last time I was able to focus; to give her all my attention.
“help her to forgive me,”
Oh sweet baby, it’s I who needs your forgiveness.
“help her to love me again, even though sometimes I’m bad”
Oh God, is that what she thinks!?
“and please help me to find dolly so she won’t be scared tonight”
Ok, focus…just breathe.
“in Jesus name I pray, Amen.”

Clutched tight to my chest, the doll smiles lifelessly
sending vacant stares into the room lit by a solitary pink lamp.
I sneak through the door, with tears rolling down my cheeks,
and enter with a promise, that all her prayers will get answered.

05/31/15

Submission for Prayertime Memories
Hosted by Isaiah Zerbst


Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015


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SHATTERED LIVES

After all these years, we've weathered many a heavy storm Now my life is empty with no one to keep me warm Bitter tears I've sadly wept, I begged you not to let me go You couldn't look me in the eye - you didn't want to know I thought she was my best friend, we’d been through thick and thin She wormed her way into our lives – oh boy she took me in Stole your heart away from me, now its no longer you and me Today we signed the papers, and finally you are free How do I explain to our kids that daddy no longer lives here That you prefer that sneaky cow and your pints of beer Yes you can say I am bitter, gave you the best years of my life Seventeen years together, now I’m no longer your wife My world is shattered and broken, silent tears fall like rain Maybe in time I’ll move on when my heart's not filled with pain 18th April 2015


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015


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HIT AND RUN

EMOTIVE WRITE

I never had the chance to meet my Mummy She was killed in an accident … they couldn’t save her Hit and run that’s what Daddy says Daddy cries when he talks to me about her I never had the chance to meet my Mummy She died from her injuries The doctors did an operation and saved me Daddy cries when he talks to me about her I never had the chance to meet my Mummy Daddy shows me lots of photographs of her He says that I am beautiful like she was Daddy cries when he talks to me about her Every day Daddy takes me to visit Mummy He said she is asleep with the angels I wish I could cuddle Mummy in her bed Daddy cries when he talks to me about her Words Drowned in tears contest Sponsored by Broken Wings 10~18~16


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016


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BLUE MOON RISING ON A STORMY NIGHT - TITLES CONTEST

Blue moon rising on a stormy night I sit sobbing without you Sadness, when we fell out of love The point of no return, drifting apart You broke my heart, my fragile heart Now you're gone, I'm missing you Guess it's over Tell me why Whispers on the wind Words: disappointment dejection disillusioned rejection A true tragic tale heartbreak loneliness, sad eyes a single tear Reflections in the moment precious moments carry me away... The scent of your soul breath of love shadows from the past personal memories After the rain I will survive letting go Spring is coming soon a new beginning inner peace Best Titles Contest Sponsored by Laura Loo (Every Line used is the original title of one of my poems) June 11th 2017


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017


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Fat Girl Cries

fat girl cries
big fat tears
splash
crash
down her chubby cheeks
down her pillar like neck
which was once
much like a swan
now gone

fat girl sighs
big fat sigh...
a heart groan of a sigh
from the empty place inside
where beauty's not allowed to reside

fat girl sleeps
a big fat sleep
time obliterated
memories conjugated
into happy streams
peaches and cream
all over her dreams
everything perfect...it seems

fat girl awakes
a big fat awakening...
life must go on
she lumbers to the mirror
stares at her big fat figure
rolls here and there
and though she acts
acts like they're not there
she's not allowed to forget
she's not there....
not yet

she exercises 
torturous kilometers by
holding on to handles
beginning the treadmill
to help her say goodbye
to the fat girl
who is pretty on the inside
but unseen
unseen
people are so mean
she medicates
they fabricate
rules...
she must subjugate
the need
to drown her sorrows 
to eat it all away
why is she alive
alive another day?

fat girl cries
bit fat tears
her big fat fears
grow though she shrinks
kilograms slip away
will it ever be OK?
will they love her for her mind?
will they ever be kind?
to the little girl inside
who tries to hide

fat girl cries
will you dry her eyes?

Eileen Manassian


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2016


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Brokenhearted sunsets

It's never anything big, just a nagging defeat Of wanting to be exclusive in your ambit, For in your eyes, I see an opportune disguise Living as a friend of genuine vibes gone awry. It was the zealous-moon you adored with glee When romantic vibes you scripted about me, Fussing about moon-spot of slight imperfection Looking at my face, hinting coy comparison. When I lauded our pond's white lotus flowers You admired silence of the ripples in water Singing praises of existence so ephemeral, Never denying you compared it to our love. Being impulsive, you stole a rose from garden Handing it to me like borrowed ardent charm. As I held it in gratitude for its delicate beauty It pierced my heart with its anguished thorns. You take me places, pleasantly well-meaning But when I get there, I'm left feeling alone For you traverse a lone-orbit on your own Leaving me to tangle by your rotational force. When you ask me, if love still burns our flame, I simply want to say, love has changed its name For time has falsified what we once meant, No more can I bear brokenhearted sunsets. January 29, 2018 First place: One in five contest by Joseph May


Copyright © Vijay Pandit | Year Posted 2018


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A Tear Drop on a Rose


A Tear Drop on a Rose For here I stand amongst the garden Vines along the gated path Songs of never left forgotten Blooming in the aftermath Thus I find my heart is broken Soft the air of fragrance pure Lush within this fertile garden Beauty I shall see no more Silhouettes I long to beckon Wave as if they need me so Shadows formed on perfect hedges Happiness I used to know Winds of change now come to greet me Whispering their sad refrain To the sky, what is the meaning I shall never love again Lonely now my scented feelings Rooted in the dark abyss Memories now cast a calling Looking back on times to miss If by chance you walk this garden Here where every flower grows Find that I have left a message In a teardrop on a rose


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017


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Edge of a Whisper


How kind of you to open up my veins,

          With little but his name upon your lips ...

               Eviscerate the warmth of what remains,

     The grief of beauty strangled in your grips.



No more fallacious kisses will we share,

          No longer curious, your stayed replies,

               No mystery, your mess of tousled hair,

     Or yet, the moony fervor in your eyes.



But one thing, yet, will tantalize me so -

          A question that bewilders, you'll agree,

               Is why, with all the time you've had to go,

     You make him wait, to linger here with me?



So, plunge the blade and consecrate your crime ...

          But do it slow, and love me ... one ... last ... time.




Submitted on January 8, 2019
To the "Beautiful Sadness" Poetry Contest
John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.



Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2018


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The path I'm on

Nights once brought such pleasant dreams
But the sweet memories no longer exist
As persistent nightmares continue to insist
Those dreamy-nights never belonged to me.

Searching for meaning of this dubious feeling
I surmise it emanates from spurious instincts
Residing where he once held my throne 
Refusing to depart from the abandoned zone.

In that desolate zone I don't linger any more
Where maddening vibes squandered my love.
My tears file a protest when eyes wish to cry
Having fallen in vain like the petals gone dry.

Petals that once brought me ardent fragrance
Now claim flowers never perfumed my garden.
Winds that blow from forest of barren trees
Warn me, having blown away pristine leaves.

Like a drifter I roam searching for answers
But only questions surround the path I'm on.
What right do I have of owning my dreams
Having relinquished title to fond memories?

May 2, 2018
Placed first in standard contest #135 by Brian Strand


Copyright © Vijay Pandit | Year Posted 2018


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How To Fall

'Saw you fighting back the teardrops
All by yourself........
You didn't have to say a word...
I knew just how you felt

So, you haven't been here either
Just happened in...like me
Well, if you're feeling blue and lonely
You've got company....

We can dance....or just sit here and talk...
We can laugh or cry..I'll let it be your call
This new found freedom..lets us rise above it all..
'Cause we both know....How to fall

Yeah, I'll have another...Girl what would you like
Something to warm your heart...Sure is cold tonight
I'll ask the DJ,  to play some songs that ain't so sad
You're beginning to make me feel...like heartache's not so bad...

We can dance....or just sit here and talk
We can laugh or cry...I'll let it be your call
This new found freedom...Lets us rise above it all..
'Cause we both know....How to fall


Colab. with Bryan Maher
Protected by copyright
All rights reserved


Copyright © Chuck Melugin | Year Posted 2018


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Elder Abuse

He sits quietly in the corner of the room
and dabs his face removing the blood that
still gently trickles down his cheek. Flinching 
from the pain he tries to be more careful.
He wants to ask but doesn’t dare, so he 
wonders, What did I do wrong? Running 
his trembling fingers through his grey hair, he
remembers, I only wanted a glass of milk.

                                     She grabs a rag and starts cleaning off the
                                     counter. As she wipes down the cupboard 
                                     she is still cursing under her breath. “Why
                                     did we have to take him, we can’t go out 
                                     anymore because we’re stuck here with this
                                     eighty five year old man who can’t even pour
                                     himself a glass of milk without spilling it. 
                                     With that she throws the rag loudly in the sink.

He wants to get up and go to his room, but he’s
afraid. It didn’t used to be like this, she used to laugh 
with me and we’d talk about when mom was still
alive. How many times we took the children so 
they could go away. Now she doesn’t even look
at me anymore without frowning. Maybe if I
just sit here quietly she’ll forget about
me. Maybe if……. Oh no, here she comes. 

                                     She puts her hands on her hips and as if
                                     he was five years old she scolded him over
                                     and over again. She’s so tired of telling the 
                                     old man the same things, but he just doesn’t 
                                     get it. She asks herself why the father she 
                                     loved so much had to go and get Alzheimer.
                                     She notices how he’s shying away and 
                                     protecting his head with his arms. 

He runs into his room afraid she could
slap him again, thankful that his door 
still has a lock. He hears her yell, 
“Just ask me when you want something.”
He stands leaning on his door and slowly
he slides to the floor where he curls in a ball.
Glancing around the strange room, tears
fog his eyes as he asks, “Where am I?"


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
12.14.2014

Cyndi MacMillan
Contest Name	I CAN'T BREATHE: A peaceful Protest, An Anthology of Powerful Poems



Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014