Best Heavy Handed Poems


Premium Member Seijaku

Seijaku – 8-1-24
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Seijaku

Serenity abides with tranquility
Abiding in beauty
And deep respirations of satisfaction
Ready
	Alert
Overlooking tangled mazes of overlapping obligations
 Labyrinths of lists -  
And atonal demands.
   
As the sun streaks past engorged calendars
In whirly-gigs of heavy-handed chaos
The shade of tranquility
 Stretches out 
  Looming across the face of serendipity
  With the breath of the rose
   The whisper of sapphire jewels
    Born from oceanic bowers.

In the shadows waits 
 The gift of each rubric solved
Pushing aside the tyranny of over committed -
In dawns, and Aurora’s ballet in neon slippers,
The spirit dialates,
  As moonlight drips from feathery boughs,
Healed from epidemics of minutes 
 Swallowed by a never resting pendulum.

The poet arises, even blooms, 
 Ignoring the cataracts of frail dreams
When hurried footsteps and clouded hearts
 Still race infected by chaotic delirium
Tripping over beauty’s outstretched boughs
To see – to notice -
 To embrace 
Lavender, gently waiting, with amazement.
Categories: heavy handed, life, peace, time,
Form: Free verse

3 Love Poems: a Gift, Now I Know, Why You

A GIFT

You've given me
a piece of your soul
inside a sunken brown envelope
written handle with care
as if I was born heavy-handed.

You've telescoped
my soul once more
in its caravan
on a mountain slope
stooped by a bulky backpack.

It's good you've frozen
that portion of my long journey
I could have missed the sun
just because I stooped too low
that I could only see my heavy footsteps.

I've always known
when I unwrap your love
with my crystal-pure letter opener
I've trapped a powerful force
that allows me to forge ahead
with its timely smiles.
what I just received
is static showcase of a dynamic love!

NOW I KNOW

Now I know
you covered yourself
in coming to me
for I was too green
to know myself
that outgrows my form.

I am sorry
if I hated anything 
that didn't speak
my unfulfilled language
though what it attempted
was to enrich it and my world.

You spoke my language 
nonetheless
and maneuvered me
into marching
to my inner heart.

How could I resist
from following
strangely familiar footprints
to a wide lawn home
almost forgotten
in the dark smoke
of my activities.

WHY  YOU

Could it be
That my footprints
Have lead me
To meet and see you as beautiful?

I could have seen you
any other else
If these noise
would have stopped crowding
about my sensitive ear.

Maybe I was formed
To see you as I do
And there's no way
To be otherwise.
Or if there is
It could be a slim probability
I could not wait
For time to unwrap
Your true worth
For I have my heart
Filled with pregnant rose
And to wait a little longer
Would mean forever.

It could be
that you are an eclectic 
of personalities
that lighted my footprints
or, perhaps, watered them with tears.
in my case I chose you
and that's a footprint hard to erase!



Dalila Agtani
Categories: heavy handed, love
Form: Free verse

Welcome Mat

Welcome Mat….       by: Steven Hudson


Hands tremble at the grip in my hand,
Two worlds collide in moments of time,
The trigger shakes, while onlookers scorn
What once was peace, now a violent storm

Away ye dogs of thunder come to plunder my house!
Who come to grant me the title of fatherless son
You knocked on our door looking for trouble
But when trouble rose to greet you, you froze like a mouse.

I did not seek you out, you forced a delinquents hand
It was only justice, to protect that which I love
The pulse that quickens, the fear that sickens
The weight of words preceding a heavy handed blow

What was meant to destroy me
Only proved to employ me
For in the face of my enemy the only choice remains
To stand strong, stand fast, that my losses, may become gains.
© Angel Fire  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: heavy handed, fear, life,
Form: Narrative

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


I Cannot Weight To Hmm

I Cannot Weight To Hmm...
Be Pressed By A Dumbbell

Two fifteen pound
     steely danse sing
     wrought iron dumbbells
     ill-tempered, impatiently,
     and intensely a weight
their turn to hmm... press me,
     and forthwith dense trait
heavy handed prestidigitation

     to yours truly, this primate
currently attempting
     to craft sad excuse
     for a poem, sans far fetched
     notion, aye trite re: late
engendering, foisting, and goading
     bizarre lifelike qualities
     to inanimate solid helpmate

to build (and/or oven
     just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully,
     resignedly wince, where washboard
     abdomen long a goner
     impossible to recoup, 
     whar hide didst narrate
ting hours sculpting great
former Adonis build

     on these, now nada so lovely
     bones, and experience 
     spiritual strife to oscillate,
     perhaps witness sing 
     angst to esse skill late
heady feeling healthy vim within
     myself, how just
     with verily at least dedicate

half hour exercise can be great
for body, mind, and
     soul triage, otherwise...
     basic gravitational laws
     of physics gladly
     hand me unwanted fate,
how gradually physique
     will eventually demonstrate

flabby, droopy, and
     unwanted addy post tissue create
ting another reason to berate,
castigate, emasculate, where
     self repudiation will germinate
(albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly
     doth relinquish fitness regime
     resulting sparking, and taste

     testing casus belli dictate
tête-à-tête, viz hasty
     unconditional surrender to
     a void mortal kombat,
     which latter, would exterminate,
the forces of yin and yang,
     re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur,
     thence finding me fraught,

     (yule hiss see - uselessly)
     grant ting soul 
     option to disintegrate,
in the event emotional civil war,
rents asunder every fiber
     of mine being, which
    wrath wracked wraith self destruction 
     twill woefully satiate.
Categories: heavy handed, angst, appreciation, dad, endurance,
Form: Free verse

We All Are Unconscious Racists

It’s what you think as much as what you say, although…
If one is careful not to shout racial slur… 
Then you cannot stop them thinking it, not so?
This issue is stereotyping, corrupt the flow…
Not by heavy handed punishment…
Or jail house confinement…
But by education and awareness, to understand it’s causes…
Let’s teach the new generation racial tolerance…
Because unconscious racism can exist in all of us… 
Getting to the root of the problem…
Needs to be discussed and not to be afraid of them…
It’s not whether you think he/she is a racist or not…
But their racist opinion been inside connect the dot… 
People’s racist opinions about another of a different color haven’t changed…
So let’s tackle the cause, and the reasons, ideas we can exchange…
Because, he/she is no different to English Football’s Luis or Terry…
Just as we all are unconscious racist, scarrrrrrrrrrrry…

©Copyright November 2012 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
Categories: heavy handed, people, education,
Form: Free verse

Ka-Pwing

forgotten sound
of a father's voice,

only a fond memory of English Leather,

faces of children
not one's remembered,

melancholia captioned,

while snared in long wars
bereft of true glory,

cordite charred, world weary,

heavy hearted,
heavy handed,
heavy lidded, 

minutes whip past
like a lash on raw skin,

gilded ages burst like flack,

eons too much when unwelcome
too little too soon,

moments spent like carnival tokens,

spin cycle of life
a kaleidoscope swoon,

awaken to dotage,

snippets of melodies
riffing toe tapped,

younger days, younger legs, 

when life was as simple
as a pair of rubber soled shoes,

leg tapped,

tap away.
Categories: heavy handed, father, memory, old,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Bottoms Up

Bottoms Up


Heavy handed was the pour
convex cap to rim of glass
chasers iced and doubled back
dry toast to soothe an empty flask.

Innkeepers have their history
in treating drunkards mystery
disguising in replete display
the demon haunts their every day.



submitted to – Ekphrasis Contest 01
sponsor – Giorgio A. V.
Categories: heavy handed, addiction, history,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Life Is Hard Enough

Raised bucolic and pedantic
Nothing taken for granted
Dreams are for dreamers
Life is hard
Lessons learned came heavy handed

Fathered by the Golden Rule
Taught to be nobody's fool
Schemes are for schemers
Life is hard
Wits are the logical tool

Breaking from family tradition
Always raising suspicion
Teach the teacher
Life is hard
High price for independent rendition

Days turn into years
Happiness drowns in tears
Believe a believer
Life is hard
Failure is not a career


  an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Categories: heavy handed, growing up, philosophy,
Form: Rhyme

Father

FATHER



Misleading intentional deception,
loathing the complexity of risk and uncertainty.

Thoughts of contingent outcomes, minimizing losses,
analytical human behaviour.

The Army Ruler demands respect, obedience,
forgets the hurtful unconsidered words.

Tradition, history, status, all weigh heavily,
turdus merula cries in the storm.

Obstructively determined to prevail,
threats and ultimatums are heavy handed.

He can hear, but refuses to listen,
the heart is cold and concrete.

Sterling coins cannot buy love, obedience,
he creates his own demise.

Whispers in the wind are chosen words,
a child is gone forever.
© M Nudelman  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: heavy handed, father
Form: Free verse

Soulful Cries

I scream, at the top of my lungs
No sound, comes out
Silent, curdling screams
Is, all I have left, now
I wrestle; I fight, with all, my physical might
While, being forced down 
By the mighty strength, of many men
The pungent smells of dirt, sweat and grime
Embed, in my senses
Their ghastly hot breathes; making me, want to puke!
Their hands, all over me
Constantly grabbing and groping me
Hollering and cheering each other on
Then, someone punches me
Someone, I cannot see
A large man’s hand, covers my nose and mouth
Muffling my soulful cries, terrifying, my insides!

I can’t breathe, now!

Many heavy handed blows, follow
In a blurry haze
I watch, my scarlet red blood splatter
Upon the snow white sheets, that surround
My sacred blood spilled
My salty tears mixed in with sticky men’s semen
My body, a raging torrent of scorching hot lava
Lulling into a translucent, entranced state
Surrendering, to the primal, animalistic frenzy
The men, taking what they want, anyway they want it
Devouring every morsel left ,of my weak and weary body
My body fighting, for its God given right
To live, now!
My life flashes before my eyes
The sounds around me begin to fade
My eyes glaze over, my body goes limp
My body betraying me, when I need her the most!
Silently, I pray for this is not my will, but their own
“Have mercy upon these souls” 
“Please forgive these men, as I do, now
“My love remains with you, heavenly Father”
Blackened tears of jet black mascara
Weave their way down
Through the bloody crevasses, of my black & blued skin
My body used up, a lifeless vessel, totally numb!
My innocence and dignity stripped!
No one, can save me, the worst is done!
Bashed, beaten, worn
I am nothing, no more...
© Amy Rose  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: heavy handed, angst, child, childhood, courage,
Form: Free verse

My Changed Body Morphology

Incrementally corporeal essence, here
to fore i.e. figurative spear
tire of mine, doth elicit despair
daily appall, thus I air
part tickle laurel lei objection
     able bane, cuz this tear
rubble flabbiness a glare
ring anatomical feature, I swear

shape shifted into a dare
ridge hubble unsightly
     bulge ballooning mere
lee (just south of nada so clear
lee belly button), where
former wash board abdomen veer
hilly subsumed by displeasing scare
really hated love handles glare

ring paunches noticeable, especially
     when belly bare
adduce sing the culprit bing
one or more daring
pharmacological prescription eliminating
debilitating panic attacks,
     albeit re: fashioning
my metabolism, but

     necessary medications giving
immeasurable un bull heaving
relief to this generally
     skeptical person instilling
joyus rapture, where
     psychological state jitterbugging
(a slight bit of hyperbole,
     I tango with) kickstarting

long overdue ability
     to experience living
shorn of paralyzing anxiety,
     yes every now and again
     isolated heated flare ups making
stellar appearance, asper
     wren literal "NON
     FAKE" pennilessness,

and a concomitant stress
     inducing circumstance naming
management due to inspect
     occupied apartment units
this next oncoming
week (October seventh -
     thirteenth) inducing palpitating
heart, irritable bowel syndrome,

     and non quitting
excessive (no pun intended -
     heavy handed) perspiration,
but generally "speaking" quieting
torturous unbearable
     woebegone raging
adrenaline hellishly riotous smiting
my body electric

     condemning torturing
poisoning relentlessly (like
     stinging scorpions) upending
many prime decades vice wrenching
yoking ambivalence nose zing
worthlessness toward 
     total mortal kombat!
Categories: heavy handed, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Wind

Come join me on my erratic journeys over earth and sea.
I'll take you to nowhere special or, perhaps, a place you want to be.

I'm neither friend nor foe, so you need to know it's not personal at all.
I might appear as a gentle breeze or even a violent squall.

If my presence is not welcome; I do apologize.
Sometimes I get carried away and therein the problem lies.

Heavy-handed or light as air, I touch everything in my path.
At times, I lose my temper and then you feel my wrath.

Depending on my disposition, I've been called by many a name.
 I am really just the wind and my nature brings me my fame.

March 24. 2024
© Jan Terry  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: heavy handed, nature,
Form: Personification

Premium Member Evening's Genius

Dramatic moon glows high above the emerald mountains
Shimmering dreams of celestial romance fade to soft sparkles
Pierces the darkness in glorious rays of hopeful beams

Starlight whispers fall across the bleached branches of autumn
Once glistening with scarlet, tangerine and butternut golds
Starry skies reveal the luminous forest of naked limbs

Shadows laugh through the murky darkness, inviting nightmares
Silent dreams haunt the hearts who listen to the peace of nightfall
Black illusions drift across the soul with heavy handed doubt

Luna longings surface on the silent feelings breaking through 
Soft rays of illuminating grace cascade along the woods edge
Brilliant breaths of rippling streams rise to fill the hungry desires

Nocturnal melodies flow up through the oaks, birch and pines
Hues of joy pour over melancholy of a dark foreboding
Music lingers on the heart who knows this is evening’s genius
Categories: heavy handed, autumn, moon, night, sky,
Form: Sijo

Premium Member Last Sigh


The woman lying on the hospital bed
Silent, intuition discerning
The last breath, last sigh, goodbye
Whispered beneath a soft cry
From the soul who she was leaving behind

She had been a daughter, a wife, a mother
She’d known sorrow, sadness, hurting
While still believing in the times
When joy filled her heart, soul and mind
With memories of pleasures so satisfying

The woman was thin, so skinny bones jabbed
At the ones who bent to hug her
Leave their mark, their kiss, there on her cheek
Where tearstains had left their reproach
Small details of a light, a life, almost concluded

She had sharp blue eyes that sparkled like stars
In the heavens after a summer storm passed by
Eyes so alive they could nearly speak
With words of passion, praying and praising
Promising to shine through the passing that was so near

The woman had taught me things I couldn’t know
Would accompany me through small wars
Second thoughts, death and divorce
Wonderful dreams and moments of pure fear
Wisdoms that would never disappoint me

She once bandaged my cuts and bruises
Applying ointments and solutions
While assuring me that I would heal in time
Just as she had mended herself
From so many hospital stays and sick days

The woman was much like a whisper
Silencing my worries with her tenderness
Breathing rich blessings through my life
With hope, faith and love that would guide
Coloring my thoughts in hues of Godly light

She was so quiet now, lying in the big bed
That seemed to consume her with crisp, white sheets
Reminding me that she was so close
To carrying wings instead of that deathlike pallor
Which revealed the moment on the horizon…

The last sigh – the one that still haunts me
With its heavy handed weakness
The feeble breath of a frail old woman
Who knew that living would soon mean
Giving up the life that had been given her…
By a heavenly Father who would soon welcome her!

The last sigh – was her spirit’s sendoff!






Your Favorite Poem Of 2021 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
November 22, 2021
Categories: heavy handed, caregiving, childhood, death, goodbye,
Form: Free verse

Somewhere Between Fall and Falsehood

Her chin was resting between her knees
Her fingers were running smoothly through the sand
She didn’t notice my arrival
She just sat, staring out at the ocean

I could hear the drop of the hallowed cave
It echoed and faded at the foot of the fissure
The natural awning shielded us from the sun
As the waves lapped slowly at her feet and not much further from mine

“What a view,” I said, resting my weight against the rocky walls
She looked up at me as if coming from a dream
For a minute, she just sat there looking wretched 
Heavy-handed, droopy mouth, bags under her eyes
But then she managed a smile; a weary smile
I returned it, then looked off at the ocean
The waves disappeared behind the horizon
And the sun fixed its reflection across the seascape

“Why are you here?” she asked with the effort of true curiosity
Squinting her eyes and pressing her face above her mouth
She’d been staring at the sun again
She could probably scarcely see me

I forced a smile and sat down close beside her
“The sun’s not going to help you, you know,” I said matter-of-factly
I continued to look at her as she buried her face in her legs again
Her dirty blonde hair wafting with the wind like meteor showers

“I know,” she said, muffling her speech
Looking away for a minute, I turned back to see her with tears in her eyes
“But what else will?” she genuinely asked, and softly sobbed
My mouth hung loose at her irregular directness 
Eventually catching myself, I put my arm around her shoulder
“I will.  We all will,” I said and smiled once again
In doing so she then relaxed her head on my shoulder
And for those few minutes, believed me fully

Somewhere deep within, she knew the truth though
And it would remain there, no matter how comforting my lies got
© Val Murah  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: heavy handed, depression, family, sad, sea,
Form: Free verse
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