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Best Heavy Heart Poems | Poetry

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New Heavy Heart Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Heavy Heart poems are below this new poems list.

ALLOW ME TO HOLD YOUR HEAVY HEART by Lee Sr., James Edward
Heavy Heart by teclemichael , feven
A Heavy Heart by Ellison, Jack
Heavy Heart by Tones, Raven
A Heavy Heart by Tharp, A.D
Heavy heart by WEWEGE, GERT
Heavy Heart - One Liner by Jennings, CayCay
Heavy heart by Gren, Teppo
I walk with a heavy heart by hunjeri, njeri
Heavy Heart by Benner, Tiffany

View all new Heavy Heart Poems

The Best Heavy Heart Poems

Details | Heavy Heart Poem | Create an image from this poem.

I Can't Breathe

In memory of----

Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my heartbeat.
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air, 
Overwhelmed by the scene -unbelievable footage
18 seconds too long, "I can't breathe."
My judgement is gone, stressing all night long
I use to fear dark colors, now I fear spinning bright lights
Red, White, and Blue,  I spew the NY Police crew
What's wrong with your blue eyes?
You see him, you want to mess with him
What a day to trade  --  a life for illegal cigarettes
Persecution and judgment day, a sweet life taken away
"I can't breathe", executed in broad daylight!

Bullies left and right
What happened to minding our business?
Moneymaking, refusing to be singled out 
A hurting voice tackled by racism 
Free to see, pouring his heavy heart,
Oinker's demand the ground, leaving out his testament
8 times too many, "I can't breathe!"
Where did his vitals go? 
Can someone please pound the pavement!

Stress, anger, madness, the voices of the innocent
"I can't breathe." the volume of Valium
"Officer, did you not hear the man?"
Are you deaf, have you forgotten how to save a life?
Is it just the NYPD or is it every other badge,
Insinuating crime's a one-color show.
We are all criminals, why the excessive heat?
Shot, tasered, beat down, pepper sprayed,  now on the ground
The choke hold of all choke holds, murdered and out numbered 
The echoes remain "I can't breathe!"

- The truth!
Eric Garner robbed of his own natural path and youth
One man down eyed suspiciously 
Perplexed minds suffocating him instantly
The mistrusted, the fear, the hate,  
So tangible, uniforms using deadly force
One asthmatic in a choke hold
Slamming his head on the flooring
Open wounds, worldwide tears

My heart goes to the family and friends left behind
A courageous last breath, for the first and last time
"I can't breathe," now deceased.
You left this world unwilling, waking up a strong community
Strolling in a  better world, where racism don't exist
"I can't breathe,"  Eric Garner Rest in peace!

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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We Push The Pen

We push the pen to make you feel
the gentle tapping of the falling rain,
the stinging burn of the summer sun
the heavy heart of despair and pain.

We push the pen to make you see
the vibrant orange of a monarch wing,
the secretive soul hidden in our eyes,
the golden sunrise in early morning.

We push the pen to make you taste
the sweetness of love's first kiss,
the bitterness of heartbreaking defeat
the richness of pure chocolate bliss.

We push the pen to make you hear
the clear waters babbling in the brook,
the forgotten laughter of our inner child
the cracking spine of a brand new book.

We push the pen to make you savor
the pungent petals of the red rose,
the crisp aroma of a tart green apple
the autumn air that excites the nose.

We each push the pen in different ways
with our own tone of voice and mystique,
an art form that no other can duplicate,
no right or wrong, just wonderfully unique.





Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015


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Sadly Musing Life and Love

I sit alone as evening claims the day,
with common crow my only confidant.
I watch the sun sink slowly in the bay
while musing life and love so nonchalant.

As night descends upon my humble soul,
my furtive feelings ponder kinship lost.
I’m missing precious love that makes me whole;
my dearest darling gone at such a cost.

And woe I say, why did she go away,
and leave my heavy heart in agony;
behind, my shallow spirit here to stay;
she cast our love away so damnably.

Alas, I rue thee, my ascetic life,
and long to lance my heart with wretched knife.


January 17, 2018





Copyright © John Gondolf | Year Posted 2018


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Can You Spare A Teardrop

I cried for so long, so many nights,
and now no more tears can drop,
I'm all out, do you have some to spare,
cause you know once I start, I can't stop.

I go on for days with a heavy heart,
no tears fall, though inside I'm crying,
I feel empty, hollow, dark inside,
a soul dead, and still is dying.

Can I fill a bucket from your well,
the sun came out, dried up my rain,
I'll take them carefully, try not to spill,
cause I've got a need to ease the pain.

That feeling of washing away the sorrow,
with trickling tear-water, clear and cool,
soothes the soul, relaxes the ache,
can I dive right into your swimming pool?

I need to pour out your flowing brook,
to keep me crying a river for today,
I want to hold despair in my hands,
please let this melancholy feeling stay.





Out of Water contest
placed 14th





Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015


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Life Is Like A Leaf

We'll watch in awe and witness talking leaves
In multicolored hues their story told
With heavy heart their passing we will grieve
Their memory, like weather soon grows cold

So quickly through the glass our trickling sand
Twas yesterday spring flowers were in bloom
Today the autumn colors are at hand
Tomorrow deserts rise to windswept dunes

Yet with the winds of time the leaves will blow
Like sands and days, they'll fall and disappear
Their time on earth like ours from green to gold
Except for them, whose destiny was clear

The story of our life is like a leaf
Bring beauty to this world, however brief


     September 16 2016


Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016


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The Most Unlovable Man in the World - Ashes to Ashes with Improvised Narration by Silent One

Listen to poem:
Good evening.  My name is Robert Jenkins.  I was a teacher at the former Thomas Woodward School for Orphans.  As you are likely aware, a fire destroyed the orphanage on August 12, 2018.  It is with heavy heart that I must now inform you that Mr. Woodward passed away on August 19 at 3:33 am.

Years of abuse and a rather poor diet had taken their toll on Thomas’ heart, a burden he entrusted to only a handful of people that were especially dear to him.  The awful fire and the loss of his beloved Katie apparently pushed him over the edge and he suffered a severe heart attack on the 15th of August.  Before he died he dictated his final requests to me, among which is the following letter to you, his dear and loyal readers.  The letter reads as follows:

Dear poets

By the time you read these words I will have passed on.  But I ask, please, that you not give in to despair.  Let me explain why.

For most of my life I was hated and scorned, all because I was born ugly.  I never experienced love at all and lived my life in virtual solitude.  Yes, ‘tis a sad story, to be sure.  Then, one night an angel from above appeared to me in the form of a little girl and told me I was loved after all.  It was a true rebirth for me and changed my life in ways that I had never imagined.  Later, when the little girl with terrible burns was sent to my orphanage, that is, my dear little Katie, her rebirth led me to yet another of my own.  Through her I learned how to give love and to be loved.  When she vanished in the fire that destroyed my orphanage it finally all came together for me.  You see, some say God works in mysterious ways.  But to me the message was crystal clear.  He was telling me - no, showing me that love is what life is really all about.  No matter what or who we are in this world we all have the capacity for love, to accept it and to give it.  And that is the greatest gift anyone can receive or give in this life.

My dear friends, I ask that you weep not for me for my reward is at hand.  I request instead that you love one another, showing kindness and empathy to all you meet in your endeavors, regardless of their station in life.

Well, that’s all for now as I grow increasingly weak and tired.  So, until we meet again in paradise…

And there you have it.  Thomas’ last words.  He also wanted me to inform you that the orphanage will indeed be rebuilt, God willing.  Even now demolition is underway.  Oh, one last thing.  When the new building is dedicated it will be re-christened, “The Thomas and Katie Woodward school for orphans.”  

With that I bid you all farewell… 




Copyright © July Morning | Year Posted 2018


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My Heart in Prison

The ugly prison was dark and dank.
Solitary cells lined up on each side.
I paced up and down the corridor
Saw each prisoner his face hide.

I knew them all, for I put them there,
Uncle John who stole half my earnings,
My teacher who failed me just to spite me,
My neighbour reported me with warnings.

A writer who jealously always blocked me,
My lawyer whom I caught on me spying
A woman who sent me many insulting messages,
Even my cheating wife was there crying.

Where is this prison you might well ask?
Why it’s locked up within my heavy heart.
And the worst of it all, there’s no way out,
What could I do to erase all and my life restart?

Only one way to rid the heaviness of my heart. 
To learn the true way to forgive all sins,
Truly forget all useless wishes of revenge
Then perhaps with the Lord’s help a new life begins.

Placed 5
Your best rhyming poem-2
Sponsored by: John Hamilton

4 August 2016

POTD for 7 August 2016
POTW


Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016


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In the Dark of Night

As you all peacefully sleep
My heart is awoken by the darkness of the night
I slumber through this empty house
For I carry in me a heavy heart
I light a candle, then a few
The movie of my past now flashes before my eyes
I stare at the empty walls, where pictures once hung
I hear the ghostly voices of lovers past
I hear the silence of dreams escaped
A sad faced mime touches my shoulder
Whispers of I feel your pain drift out the open window
Alone
In the dark of the night


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014


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Poor man Rich man

I went to a poor man's house
There was an exquisite car in the driveway
I walked up to the grand entryway
Rang his doorbell
The chimes sounded like cathedral bells
He greeted me with a practiced smile
Welcomed me to sample his world
Together we walked across marble floors
Gazed out magnificent windows
A truly glorious view
Yet I noticed no photographs on the wall
A mansion filled with things yet he was all alone
We sat and talked
Into the night
He told me of his great success
The trophies, awards and famous guests
I could see it was important for him to impress
He told me he was living the dream
Yet it was only sadness I was seeing
He thought more was more
So he grasped at the extreme
The best of the best
He was busy being
In the end he only talked about things
All the pleasures his money brings
Convincing himself as he blindly sings
Unaware of his poverty
When I look in his eyes I seen misery
This house a mosoleum to his insanity
He left his wife a while ago
They grew apart both fast and slow
She raised the kids he never got to know
To busy chasing his successful dreams
I left his home with heavy heart
Unimpressed with all his expensive art
More concerned with his bankrupt heart


I went to a rich man's house
A modest car sat in the driveway
The wheels were scuffed from when his daughter learned to park
He was at the door before I had a chance to ring the bell
He welcomed me into his lovely home with a warm smile
Introducing me to his wife and kids
We sat in the front room looking out at their yard
I commented on the tree house
He proudly told me how him and his son had built it together
Boys only sign on the door
Still his son would play tea party, with his sister there
It seems they were an inseparable pair
This man had so many stories to share
Photographs of family displayed everywhere
He was living such a full life
So much to be thankful for
He appreciates his kids and loving wife
I got to see an art collection on the fridge
Spending time with him was a privilege 
He invited me to stay for a meal
I said "gladly, that's a great deal"
Enjoying myself with a man who's real
For he posseses a richness of the soul
Not trying to impress by playing a roll
Success in relationship his primary goal
When I left I had gained his smile
Real is real I liked his style
A worthy life a truly wealthy guy
I turned and waved 
sad to say goodbye


Inspired by Dave Wood's poem "Poverty"




Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014


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Prodigal Son

Waiting for his return, with heavy heart and a flicker of hope.


----------------------------------------------
Contest: Monoku #9 by Poet Destroyer A
Placed 1st


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2016


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The Whispered Song

The warrior lays her weary head, 
With heavy heart she cannot bear, 
Burning tears stream down her face, 
As whispered memories touch the ear.

Her armour tarnished by remorse, 
Her battle-cry a wimpered row, 
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude, 
Will never know forgiveness now.

The song began two score ago, 
When two came knocking at her door, 
In need of refuge from the world, 
Of that, and love, and little more.

Forced to fight for every smile, 
Her only solace found in song, 
She longed for love to rescue her, 
And plant her where she could belong.

Jealous tongues are seldom kind, 
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love, 
The caged canary only sings, 
When coaxed to praise from up above.

For the steely spine that now I own, 
Forever shall I grateful be, 
A gift from her, and from her own. 
Courage mounted inwardly.

I'll not forget how I have loved thee, 
And youthful memories I will prize, 
Til on the shore of His forgiveness, 
Whereto now, we both shall rise.




Copyright © Yvonne Evanoff | Year Posted 2011


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I Want to Leave

I want to leave
The next world holds more hope
As this life seems lost in circles
Both worlds filled with virgins
Untouched

I want to leave
And escape the daily routines
Of strangers who say hello
Then walk away forever

I am to be crucified
On the alter of love
And rise not ever again
No one will treasure my shroud

I want to leave
For I am human
Shrouded in the coldness
Of being always alone

I want to feel the kiss of a lover
A warmth to blanket my soul
How sweet would this be?
Poetic words however are not real

I want to leave
The illusions of the heart
How?
Reality sends a cold chill down my spine
Words are the arrows of poets
Blood soaked in verse
I return to fantasy
In the moon light night
From the beginning of time
Where dreams were considered divine
Here I rest a heavy heart
An unfinished painting
Collecting dust



Inspired by Eileen Ghali who wrote a poem with the same title.


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2013


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Ice King

He grew within a frigid place
No one thought those legs would ever part
A Dark Prince thawed her frozen heart

A member long and stiff like ice
Penetrates
Cuts through the cold
His seed 
His power
They both take hold
Invade
Satiate
Invigorate
Skin white as snow
begins to glow
A subtle blush
She feels the rush
Heated up
Ever so slightly
His cold blue eyes 
shine brightly

She screams in the night
Pleasurable blue light
Her senses take flight

Then the dark prince goes away
The night was night and this is day
There's no desire in him to stay
With a heavy heart on the bed she lay
For him just a thing of play

Inside
His seed
Her baby grows
What is happening 
she does not know
Pulse is rapid it will not slow

Her red veins 
turn to blue
There is nothing 
she can do
Her heart now frozen
a block of ice
She thinks cold thoughts
that are not nice
Inside the child feeds on her
The days and nights become a blur

In the middle of winter
The Ice King is born
From fragile womb 
his body torn
Arrival accompanied 
by a storm

Those present become statued ice
The King extracts his sacrifice
His mother spared
To her his love he shows
She wraps him in blanket 
of pure white snow
His skin translucent 
begins to glow

All of a sudden
the Dark Prince appears
He commands bring the baby over here
I wish to gaze upon my son
He is a truly magnificent one

He looks closely at the baby's face
Resemblance more than just a trace
Blue eyes dark they extract a toll
Sucking up the Prince's soul
The Ice King
emerges 
fully grown
Regally rises to take his throne

Mother cries
Blue magical tears
Time for coronation 
Rapidly nears
Diamonds fall 
onto the ground
Placed in ice
The King is crowned



Linda's Free Verse Contest


Thanks to Leonora Galinta for letting me weave a story
with her Ice King. Yanny's Dark Prince has also played a roll.
Also thanks to SKAT for posting the Ice King Contest,
if she increases the number of lines I will enter.
I wrote this one before I knew there was a contest.







Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013


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Exquisite Anguish

(The sad sea greets me, ebb and flow)

Why do I fancy heartache so?
It isn't pleasant, sweet or fun
It carries not, a buoyed charm
No sullied mirth to e'er disarm
Assigns no blessing when it's done
Still I contend to leave it go
(And feign aversion, lest it show)

Perhaps I've reached my own accord
Accepting as the status-quo
This melancholy gag reflex
To all that dimmer deeds can vex
And while the urge still pushes so
It's shadows that I'm pushing toward
(Salvation's scabbard, short a sword)

Perchance love's residue still stains
When love is lost, the breathing soul
Seeks refuge in a heavy heart
To savor grief with joy apart
Losing that which made it whole
Instills the worth of passion's pains
(Left to embracing what remains)

I doubt I'll come to understand
Why now-and-then a heart can break
Yet prove to flood you, bittersweet
With joy and sorrow mixed, replete
Such sad delight, this blessed ache
Left with what our hearts remand
True love sifting through our hand

(I scratch "I miss you" in the sand)


Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017


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After The Funeral

Dusk fell rapidly. Three women dressed in black
With their young lanky companion hurried back
To their rather small impoverished dark room.
Only an oil lamp that added to their gloom.

Silence reigned except for the youngest maiden
Sobbing, though all were with heavy heart laden.
The elder sat on a bed, shedding no tears
That man buried was in reality hers.

O what a cruel world, how her son suffered!
How many times he was so harshly buffered?
Religious leaders had him sentenced to death.
So crucified was he until his last breath.

Generous of Joseph to give him a tomb.
Brave Nicodemus but with a face of doom,
Provided fresh linen and bought perfumed spice.
There they buried the young man from Paradise.

Still in the darkness the elder woman sat,
No one dared engage her in frivolous chat.
No one knew the pain in her much wounded breast,
It had began with his treacherous arrest.

Still the worst was yet to come when with a lance
Checking his death, the Roman saw in a glance.
That's when she felt the cruel lance pierce her heart,
The young man quickly held her seeing her start.

Now on her hard bed she quietly pondered
My God Father, what will happen, she wondered.
She then knew her mission as God had decreed.
On the third day Her dearest Son would be freed.

30 July 2018

Placed 1

For Your Poetry Journal Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
4.  After the Funeral: rhyme
11 syllables per line


Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2018


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While You Sleep

While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly 
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.

Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel, 
And so before it I choose to kneel.

I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.

I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.

I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.

My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.


Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012


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Common Man


The traveler reeked of weariness,
His companion was Fatigue
Wear upon his clothes suggest
He'd come a million league.

Gaunt were eyes deep set and brown
Above his cheekbones high
His being was pure somnolence
And I heard his silent cry.

Hard roads had been his travel
The pains chiseled on his face
In lines of furrows on his brow
Permanently enlaced

Around I saw no motion there, then ...
His head began to rise
Finally he looked at me ...
Suffering in his eyes.

So quietly I attended
And with a heavy heart
I wanted so to speak to him ...
But knew not how to start

Within his labored breathing
He then began to speak
His words, when finally spoken
Were truthful and unique

His lips worked to form the words -
Then said; "My name is: Common Man,
I'm a father; I've worked hard;
' always done the best I can.

"The road's become uphill and steep with
Burdens I can't propel
I've tried to move on forward -
But, I stumbled here - and fell.

"There are others on me
Who so do depend
I must move on forward,
This mustn't be my end.

"Now I must reach out to you
'Cause before I've never failed
I'm turning now to you
'Fore on hardships I'm impaled". 

A calloused hand then extended
Toward my outstretched hand
And I want to heed the call
For this Common Man.

But, Greed and Avarice have won
And assistance can't be lent -
Wall Street, you see, owns me now:
I'm Your Government.


Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014


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And still i drive - part one

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And sadly...i start to drive.
Through the unremarkable village with its tall 
Georgian Bay window panes, lightless,
devoid of visages; outwardly staring back at my 
Abject countenance with detached contempt and utter disdains.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And i start to drive.
But arriving at the brew i am compelled to ease upon
The pressured brake,
For, at the slowly closing level-crossing with its red lantern gate, 
The tolling bell insists i stop...and patiently wait.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
As once again i prepare to drive.
At last, in rapid haste, the late commuter train 
Has rattled by -
Within:The snoozing jostled crowds and deceitful 
Drunken brokers that boozily sigh.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall... 
But stars do not lie.
Away now from Littlehamptons smothering, towered,
Blue-stepping climes,
Where, high upon high, wheeling fat-bellied gulls
With angry squawks viciously dispute their scavenged finds.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
Motoring downwards to ancient Aruns sheep-strewn 
Meadows and thin grass plains;
Past black flint-knapped walls girdling squat Tudor abodes;
Along the oak and Elm treelined roads 
And winding green verged lanes.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Past the dimly lit little ramshackle station where you welcomed
him in;
Here gently retiring Larkin did once alight 
To muse at a noble dukes tomb
And his boastful castle of grey, hewn-stone might!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not cry. 
Travelling alongside these thorny lines of Hawthorn hedge,
Where the cunning Stoat and slinking Weasel reside,
That do so ably divide 
A long forgotten, once bustling,
Feudal countryside.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars shall not deny.
Each side: Fields of Harvest mouse and blackened Vole
Beneath the hushed, brown feathered wing -
So rips the sharp beak! 
So deathly the talon!
Swooping upon the heath where brown Linnets sing.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Following the deep sided Rifes where the farmers boy 
In olden days did so joyfully run -
And wade the sharply tinkling shallow Bournes with excitable 
Barking hounds and readied hunting gun.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not lie.
Standing upright, like troops aside their barrack beds,
the ranks of stiffly rattling thatching reeds encouraging 
Spearwort and sedge;
Where the chugging long-legged hens slide across slow glides:
Thus cleverly disguise and hide their speckly eggs.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
And still i drive. Across the hushed and vigilant lands of
Silvery streams
Where glistening otters, safely holted,
Whistle within their slumbering dreams.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not cry.
And still i ride. Past the frozen woods of blasted trees
Sheltering the demure deer shying from night time chill;
And tumbling badgers rolling at ease
Upon dry-cracked carpets of rustling, black spotted, molding leaves.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars shall not deny.
From ancient glade to ancient glade
Where a Gaulic conquerer made an Anglo-Saxon a slave;
And here this Norman dismounted and stood, 
Domesday within his grasp, his thumb between a parchment page.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Exhorting upon my labouring engine to gain the crest 
of yet another leaping hill;
Below: Globular luminosities, distant blobs, sleeping hamlets,
Dwindling narrow cornered streets, 
Misted frills so vacant and still.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Accompanied by the gleeful, ever gurgling sounds
That wind their way down the sloping downs
To unselfishly feed the constant demands of the neat, red-shingled, 
West Sussex towns.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Under this vastness of great yawning cosmic sublimes
Ebbing upon the waves of galactic oceans swelling above:
Straddled by eternal Orion with belted sword and terrible club!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
For as i pass those goodly villages and towers, sneaking a peek,
I look out over the dark outlined shapes and spires:
Wonder i upon that furrowed brow, that crimson cheek -
Did you quietly cry, blaze and rage, or fall you into deep troubled sleep?
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
But sunrises horizons will surely arrive;
And i feel so weak as i readjust myself to the reclined seat.
For i have miles and miles to drive
Before that welcoming bed that i do most earnestly seek...
Lends to me - and sweeps away my exhausted feet!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not lie.
My heavy heart embedded like an anchor deep within
Your reef of sighs;
As motoring over Portsbridge creek my engine flies:
Little painted craft pushing laboriously against the current 
Of a Solents double tide.
A brief glimpse of a lit up bridge, a safe harbour:
The beautiful river Hamble
Where the millionaires yachts reside
Secured and snugly moored
Against a picturesque quayside.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
Standing tall and proud, refuting Hampshires Pompey winds,
Beached "Sails of the South" of wide fame renown;
When, rushing in: resounding waves of indifferent sounds -
Crashing over Portseas spray-lashed rocks to remorselessly pound!


Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2015


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My Only Son

I woke last night, with a heavy heart,
miles away, and world's apart,

sensing you...  sensing you..

All through the night, and into morn,
headless fears and shadows form,

so forlorn...  so forlorn..

Feeling scared, and knowing why,
seeing nightmares in your eyes,

over there...  over there..

Images of ruthless foes,
dressed in black, from head to toe.

Jagged blade, held to your breast,
evil serpent, puffs his chest.

my only son...  my only son.


Hide my soul and blind my eyes!
Precious son, I hear your cries.

Brutal boots, and shattered bones,
taunting jeers, and heavy stones.

A thousand lashes to your flesh,
hidden under prison dress.

Gagged and bound, they drag you out,
Infidel! they cruelly shout.

Forced to kneel; so hate will rise!
Dagger falls..... alone he dies.

A life of honor, and good cheer,
taken from you,  with a sneer.

Heart of gold; at heaven's gate,
my precious son, in glory waits....


Copyright © Kimberly Shaw | Year Posted 2014


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A Tortured Love

A tortured love abides deep in her heart
A love intense and strong, fearless and brave
A love demanding all and not a part
A love that must descend down to her grave

It is a love that bears not rivalry
A love so pure, a love devoid of doubt
It is a love that thrives on constancy
A love that chases all contenders out

With heavy heart that longs for such a love
In flow of passion’s tide she seeks to swim
She cries out to her God who reigns above
And yet there is no sign, her hope is dim

She will not live her life in tortured time
And so she hopes for death, relief sublime

Jade


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015


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Seed Of Friendship-A dedication

L-iving in a world of vast 
souls formed from 
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals 
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell 
and wail when the chips 
are down.
N-urtured from cradle to 
adulthood-independent
entity with a new world 
to face.
O-rganizes oneself for the 
task ahead,passing thru 
hurdles of life unabased 
and unabashed.
R-eaps the fruit of labor 
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission 
accomplished or not will 
dawn on the entity.

I-n retrospect,he thinks 
about his childhood and 
how life was to him.

L-iving in confidence or 
shame,he bows his head 
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time 
will tell the durability of 
his achievements.
V-oid of preference the 
aim result bears the 
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies 
with the works of the 
man,for there is no food 
for the slothful.

Y-oung ones,a stitch in 
time saves nine,make 
haste while the sun 
shines.
O-iling your lamb always 
like the ten virgins is the 
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer 
pressure and focus on 
the course marked out 
for you by fate,so a 
fulfilled life you shall live.





An acrostic for you 
Leonora Galinita.


Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013


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HEAVY HEART



Heavy heart hears,
Ink invokes ire;
Dance deeply dear,
Expose empire.
Hurl hurry's horse,
Expose empty;
Ask apt applause,
Voice vanity;
Yield yonder yes.
Hide hopeless husk,
End each express;
Air aligns ask,
Rust reaps refill;
Thrust troubles thrill.





Leon Enriquez
13 December 2014
Singapore


Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2014


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Missing My Friend

You are sunshine giving me warmth on a pleasant day
Shining through the sadness showing me how to play
You are the rain tending to my garden with tears of love
Washing away my heavy heart as you watch from above

You are the beautiful flower swaying gently in the breeze
Growing stronger every day urging me to do as I please
You are the wind lifting away the sorrow freeing my soul
As clouds float softly over the tree tops making me whole

You are the butterfly stirring in the early morning light
Dancing with the sunbeams then playfully taking flight
You are the sky showing off prisms of color and hope
Eagerly displaying your amazing beauty helping me cope

You are the dear friend I long for as I realize a new day
Knowing you surround my heart you will never go away
If I had one wish granted today I know it would surely be
To give as much to you as you always gave to me 


Copyright © Betty Bateson | Year Posted 2014


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Modern Marketing, A sonnet

Oh heavy heart these PR men in power
Yellow waxen masks reciting lies
Discovered by research in college towers
Who watch flashing brains in MRIs
Recording as fear lightens lobes
Word and images recorded and sold by drones
For use by corporate men round the globe
Control both CEOs and worker clones
Yet life's free forces flow in city and town
For through the dark. forces strive to transcend
As ever bruised and bloodied onward bound
Through a jumble of fears passes the path of men


Copyright © linda milgate | Year Posted 2010


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The Voice of Her Mother- My Daughter's Gift

I've written the lyrics to two lullabies for my daughter, Shereen. I even made 
up the tunes, and I'd sing to her when she was a baby to put her to sleep. She 
still remembers those songs at 19 years of age. For my birthday last May, she 
wrote this poem as a gift....just like last year. The quoted parts are words taken from the lullabies. I adore my daughter, my greatest and most precious gift.

“When she smiles, I feel like a bird in the sky.”
The words softly sung to the weary child-
This bundle of whimpers
This armful of distress-
Hoping they’d ease her restlessness
Hoping they’d calm her disquieted heart…
And they did. 
Like nothing else ever could.
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

“She is the apple of my eye.”
Rocking gently in time with the tune, she swiftly fell 
Fell into a peaceful slumber 
Nuzzled in the warmth of her consoler 
Whimpers softened, distress vanished 
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother. 

“With laughter and joy she fills my heart”
Nestled in that kind embrace
The child, now almost grown
With tear-stained face and heavy heart
Couldn't fight the world alone
But whenever she was breaking, too tired to go on
She’d search for those same words-
To ease her restlessness
To calm her disquieted heart…
She’d search for those same words
To find them in those same arms.
And she’d fall. Like she always did.
Fall into that peaceful slumber
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

Written by Shereen Nathalie Ghali (May 18, 2014)

Please read The Month of May...which is Shereen's first birthday poem written for me and posted here. You will find it if you type the title in PS's search engine. It is a beauty and is in rhyme. 


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014