Best Hearted Poems


Premium Member Prayer For the Broken Hearted


                               Softly breathe on weary soul

                      Your breath, my King, Who paid our toll

                        Rest now, Your Hand, on weary head

                       Renewed, in hope, You'll raise the dead

                            Speak, I pray Thee, Father God,

                       A dream of Heaven, of where You Trod

                            Hold the broken, dry the tear,

                        To those who cry, oh meet us here!

                              Softly Jesus, over each head,

                      Your gifts, sweet dreams, upon each bed.

                        Oh, Lord, please lift the gaze to You

                        And gently light the pathway through

                           I pray You lift the broken heart,

                     Of peace, love hope, You would impart.

                        Be with my friends in dark of night,

                   Please hold them Abba, let shine Your Light.

                                              Amen

Premium Member Broken Hearted Monoku

Why is it called ECSTASY – your two friends lie in a mortuary.

I wrote this poem for my son who was devastated after the death of his two schoolfriends, it is dedicated to the memory of brothers Jacques and Torin Lakeman aged 19 and 20 who were found dead  2nd December - gone but always in my heart.

3rd December 2014

Premium Member A Lighthearted Peek At The Apocalyptic World Of Poetry Contests

This contest style’s description is one I’ve never heard
I’m unfamiliar with that particular word 
An internet search comes up empty 
However, others seem to have poems aplenty 
My eyes are getting blurry a total collapse seems imminent 
Quickly penning an entry appears to be the only way out of my predicament 
My freshly emerged imposter’s syndrome is now on full display
As I throw words together to prayerfully send a piece on its way
Whoops, I don’t believe the lines above were exact rhymes
I wonder if I will get disqualified this time 
I see it is quintessential to utilize the word “quintessential”
Unfortunately, that stretches me to also use a word like “nonextensile”
Argh!  I just realized I’m not counting my meter
I promise I’m not purposefully being a cheater 
Oh well, competitions are all in good fun, 
   even if they drive you a bit crazy
You just have to be creative, put in the work, 
   and not . . . something, something lazy


Premium Member My Open Hearted Confessions

Honestly, I feel I am a grown-up child
I express my feelings intense or mild
As and when they take birth, never concealing
Not allowing them to settle, before revealing 

Even minor mishaps of mine or others upset me
However hard I try to pretend they don’t touch me
My countenance will show how vulnerable I am
And my body language will reveal I am not quite calm

Being too sensitive to life’s trials and tribulations
Get easily flustered on facing adverse situations
I trust people outright never suspecting their wiles
And land in difficulty easily duped by their smiles

Often, I put on a mask to hide my diffidence
And act nonchalant with an air of confidence
But the mask makes me sometimes breathless
And I expose myself feeling utterly helpless

I feel unease as I see pain and suffering all around
Now I don’t have them to seriously confront,
Yet a nameless disquiet weighs me down	
At the sight of hundreds cruelly beaten down
      
I train my mind not to withdraw into my own shell
When all around, I see misery, hatred, and violence swell
I wish my heart were the fount of gushing love
And with the olive branch of peace, soar like a dove

I long to shed a ray of light into a heart darkened in despair
Give it a momentary flash of cheer through kind acts of repair
I cannot be a beacon of light to illumine all around
But can be a candle to dispel traces of gloom that surround

I pray God to help me plod through the right way
Enabling me to face challenges with strength each day
I know life can flourish only with God’s loving grace
And each day in prayers and gratitude, I raise my eyes


Jan.13.2023

~ Placed First~

Revealing Your soul and Other Tensions
Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet

Light-Hearted

Lavender dreams light up my life, as lilac laughter liberates love...

Premium Member Broken Hearted - Jtap

Our friendship here had only just started
then you left me alone, broken hearted
you're gone but not forgotten
now life it seems so rotten
ever since the sad day you departed.



We miss you, Chan :)



This was my sadder take on the "poet who broke my heart" contest theme.


Cold Hearted

Intravenous therapy,
She's watching over me.
Grasping my hand,
She whispers, "please dear, count to ten."

Six... piercing paralysis,
Her hand cold as the air.
She lets go, leaving me there.
Alone, squirming, for just one prayer.

Yelling, and screaming.
Kicking, twisting, and questioning.
Nothing happens, its all in my head.
Frozen, welded to my metal death bed.

Minutes and hours tick away,
Slow, painful psychological decay.
I try to think of hating her,
But those thoughts just blur,
her pretty face.

Then I realize why I'm actually here.

Amidst the psychotic silence,
she walks in, and smiles.
She says, "Darling, this won't take a while."
Okay I say, dismissing the horror of the situation.
Her angelic voice, sedating all sensations.

I see the scalpels, forceps,
retractors, and clamps.
Completely trusting, blinded by the hanging lamp.
It won't hurt, so doctor please just cut.

Bloody plasmic mess, 
Pressure to suppress,
Wide open arteries, surgical misery.
No anesthetics. Painless, no distress.

She carves a circle in my chest.
I don't contest, just attest.
Let her carve into me, at my own request.
Just promise, no cardiac arrest.

She pulls out my heart.
Leaving my entire chest hollow.
No more emotions, 
the hardest pill to swallow.
But it is why I'm here.
No reason to fear.

Doctor, all I ask is you don't hurt it anymore.
You do what you want with it, it's completely yours.
Now I'm heartless, and only function with my brain.
Emotionless logic was the only way to sustain.

My future seems brighter,
All my loves spent, cut from the source.
I feel so much lighter, of course. 
It was the heart.
Thank you doctor, for pulling me apart, 
making me feel so alive.
The love, the emotions, the surgery, 
my new will to survive.

Thats when she said,

"Darling, it's all in your head. You've been dead since we first met."

Premium Member Broken Hearted

sadly the heart beats
world oblivious to pain
death patiently waits


7/3/2018
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Cold Hearted

Cold hearted

How could you be
So happy to see me leave?
How can you just act
So calm and collect 

What did i say
What did i do
For you to feel this way
The way that you do

How can you be so cold
So thoughtless
So cruel
Knowing of my feelings for you
Is it just a joke to you?

My heart breaks
My heart bleeds
With the pain
The shame
That you have thrown upon me

I’ll never know why
It was so fun for you
To make me cry
I will never understand
How you could be
So cold hearted and mean  


©gdc2014

Premium Member A Light-Hearted Christmas

late at night
 a shepherd
 woke his wife

 I saw...heard
 angels sing
 in the sky!

 it’s the wine
 she mumbled
 or UFOs!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
In this case UFOs is 2 syllables
Contest by Charles Messina
Placed 2nd
© 18th December 2018

Loving and Breathing (Dilemma of the Broken Hearted)

Inhaled at the age of innocence,
with a breath that lies between stars,
with immortal depths that have no
ending as my lungs forever expand,
Exhalation has become unachievable,
due to the obstruction of faith
of a boy for his very first dream,
Chest heaving as a heart aches,

Is love a tree or the deepest ocean?
My breath or my reason for holding?
The questions unanswered since the 
dawn of man and emotion alike,
Thus the bittersweet conclusion
appears that love equals the two,
Yet how does such beauty create
a pain that suffers from insomnia?

Expendable only to a few torn souls
who have breathed the sweet intoxication
of love, and caressed the linger of its enticing
aroma, and suffered the sting of its departure,
Leaving hearts which cannot withstand the
agony, to exhale affection for everything in
its entirety, crushing the hope of such youths,
yet this warning takes nothing from its appeal,

For to breathe love, is to touch enchantment,
As romance itself in but a breathe shared 
between two spirits rewarded for persistence,
With the risk of being proven fallible,
which leads to tears and pain entwined,
Must we not embrace the risk as reward?
For those as myself, who answered "no"
are condemned to the most fragile breathing,

For each breath hurts like the last
One love, one lost, one breath in all,
Breathing her in as if she has become
the last breath of oxygen in my life,
For she has, she has become my only,
due to a choice made for the perfect love,
Yet my painful irony has become, breathing
and loving, with each one, keeping 
the agony of the other alive forever

The Kind-Hearted Mrs Adams

We drove by her run-down house
with faded green shingles
and boarded-up windows,
a sad feeling overwhelmed us;
many times we helped her
to cut down the thick grass 
and in return she gave us 
three yellow flowers 
as a token of her gratitude... 
no one else could have cared more!

"These flowers are for you,darlings,because
you helped me plant them in the soil,
and they've grown to be tall and beautiful
in a garden so tidy and nice!" 
she exclaimed in jubilation;
"Remember me by when
I'll reach my home...to dwell
in the presence of the Lord,
and I'll be looking down on you and
pray with all angels to keep you safe and well!'
she gladly said with resignation,
foreseeing what  she couldn't explain...

She told us about her sweetheart,
whom she loved indefinetly:
from the moment they met,
to the day he peacefully died:
a lovely and faithful wife
was all he wanted and dreamed;
and their marriage lasted 
longer than they expected to be...
to be taken with them,
not being afraid of death!

"This is the grand piano I sed to play
for my husband on his last birthday;
he laid his arms on my shoulders
and sang along with me for hours:
on those snowy nights without moon...
when romance was rekindled with kisses
and the sentimental tunes
took away our winter's blues!"
she murmured with deep regret,
until her light eyes became wet...

The decaying house was put up for sale,
and only these kids have a story to tell
about the nicest person on that block,
who once was the prettiest girl-scout...
who loved us as much as her own children;
but did she deserve to be forgotten and die alone?
And if you wonder what her name was,
she was the kind-hearted Mrs Adams!

Note For the Faint Hearted

When she was born she had no father,
spent nights in the streets to feed her mother,
who was diagnose with a disease cancer,
she strolled the streets naked for suitors,
the life was worse she became a call girl.

As the sun rose she headed to her homestead,
weak frail with nothing to show but her instead, 
she saw her her mother still as a log dead,
she shoved her side to side but she was dead.

She sobbed and wept for three consecutive weeks,
her relatives came and tried to comfort her weak,
her body was soul less for she was now alone,
living this life without her parent was steel hard,

As the months passed she could not pay her rent,
her landlady threw her out like a rat to pitch tent,
she lay by the side work she now call her house pent,
begging was her routine just to collect small cents

Every night she wore a half knitted dress,
ready to sell herself because she was a mess,
every suitor passed her because of her scent,
she was now devastated almost to the edge of death.

One day as she begged beside the street,
her self surrounded by dirt covered in a sheet,
a man saw her and felt pity on her soul,
he took her by her hand and told her come.

Like a good samaritan he clothed and fed her,
told her to clean up for she would be househelp,
she neither rejected nor accepted the offer,
but when evening camethe house was clean.

In years to come she became the talk of town,
The good samaritan married and left her in town,
She was now stable fit for her  to bear a crown,
as she is now the director of the biggest orphanage in  town

Life may seem cruel at some point in time,
but know that god has a way to change it,
we may live on the edge of of life,
but just believe and it will be alright

Cold Hearted Men

My pen has frozen
My heart has stop
Time has paused and tears has drop
Men are broken
Women are forsaken
Children are dying
Their bodies are rotting 
Cold hearted men your soul has forgotten 
That the Lord is coming
Nothing is hidden and all can be forgiven 
Cold hearted men trust in the Lord for he 
has surely risen 
Don’t wait to be imprison
Make a decision to walk among the living testifying 
That Jesus is the reason you are still among the living.

Premium Member If Only We Could Turn Back the Hands of Time

An island  I have become, in  the  shadows  of  darkness, 
and  the  boundless ocean  waves  of  salty  tears  of  starkness. 
High  overhead  all  moving  about,  thousands  and  millions, 
a  plafond  of  stars  looks  down  upon  me  with  its  brilliance. 

If only we could turn back the hands of time,  a pinch or wink; 
my heart half full would ink a path through nature's acres to drink 
the   irreplaceable  moments  I  once  had  under  a  lace 
canopy  of  overhanging  leaves  and  gaze  upon  your  face. 

In the morning light,  I would embrace your soul,  and steal a kiss. 
We'd  bath in years of rapturous tears;  fountain of endless bliss. 
If only we could turn back the hands of time, snatch back the past,
my heart bulging with yearning hope would ink a path that would last.


10/17/2019
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace