Best Husband Poems
It is quiet tonight.
The only sound is coming from
the soft murmur of the television set.
I don't know why I don't just put it on mute.
I don't want to hear what they have to say,
but I guess it is better than the sound
of silence which is deafening.
It hurts my ears, it hurts my heart.
Yesterday I was happy, but that was before,
before I stepped into the dark abyss.
I think I may have been pulled in
by the apathy of death.
Death has such long arms.
I won't ask why, I know everyone must die.
But you left on a happy day, a day we were
making plans, and I had hope,
hope that we still had time,
time to share those plans.
You made me laugh until I cried that day,
and then death swooped in
and took it all away.
It is so quiet tonight.
© Connie Marcum Wong
8-27-16
August 10, 2016 Poem of the Day
You gave me wings
to experience the
freedom of flight
my love.
You let me soar
the skies and beyond
into other universes
where consciousness
has no boundaries,
feels no weight,
nor limitations
of the earthbound,
only coherence with other
soul travelers exploring
the many dimensions
in light form.
How could I keep
begging you to stay
when your earthly body
yearned for that same
freedom of flight from
a world without
which you will not
return in my lifetime.
We joined our hearts in vows of
“until death do we part”
and I know I must accept
your departure with all
the love you would
have offered me
had my departure
preceded yours.
We always said that death
is but a station
on our journey home
to the afterlife.
It is my turn now
to give you the same
freedom you gave me
when we met.
I often see you now in
my peripheral vision,
just a ghostly glimpse
that lets me know
you see me
and you are still looking
out for me as the protective
mate you were.
I continue to fly now
but mostly at night
as my body sleeps.
I miss your masculine
embrace and my
heart still often weeps.
June 4, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest~N/A~
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
~Nineth Place~
Flight Premiere Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
In between my autumn and winter years
Time passes without notice, seeking you
In remembrance of our time, through my tears,
Of passions we shared just you and I knew.
I wait until I am with you again…
At times I feel your warm breath on my cheek.
I recall the past that cannot compare,
A moment with you is all that I seek,
Yet memories now are all that I share.
I wait until I am with you again…
I know you’re waiting to welcome me where
Our soul lights will mingle forever more.
With love’s passion I feel you waiting there.
I yearn to be with the man I adore.
I wait until I am with you again…
My hair is now white like the winter snow,
I listen to music we both enjoyed
And my love, still true, continues to grow.
I search the skies and I’m lost in the void.
I wait in love ‘till I’m with you again.
7-9-22
~Poem of the Day July 11, 2022~
Thank you very much Team Poetry Soup
~Ninth Place Premiere Contest~
THE TIME BETWEEN THE SEASONS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
Dark honey tanned skin glistens
From the moisture of humidity.
The ladies flirt shamelessly with
You, but your eyes gaze upon me.
Your stature looms at six foot three.
Your swimmer's shoulders impress.
In our island sea we swim leisurely,
Traces of salt remain as you dress.
White sandy beaches, ever your haven.
We sip Riesling as the stars appear.
Nestled in your arms, time takes flight.
I feel so safe when you are near.
Your strength amply hides a tender heart.
The depth of your voice all admire.
When we first met I became enamored,
Feelings that quickly turned to desire.
We have shared so much over the years.
More happiness than dark sorrows.
Family treasures that brightly shine,
Reigning with love into our tomorrows.
In the autumn of our lives I feel the chill
Of winter's inevitable harsh advance,
Yet days of youth remain in our hearts,
Memories held, that time shall enhance.
Poem of the Day October 27, 2017
Late October Standard Contest-Third Place
Sponsor Brian Strand
Two peas in a pod
One still on Earth, One with God
Together Always
Inspired By Nathan Leccese"s Contest "Two Peas In A Pod"
3rd Place
BLACK and BLUE
Today I wonder,
Wonder why?
You hit me in the eye,
you made me cry.
My eyes are brown,
Now they're black and blue.
Is that what I get for loving you?
My lips are pink, now they're bloody red.
Is that what I get!!!
Do you wish I were dead?
My teeth are white,
I just lost three,
Is that what I get over a little fight?
I see a smile underneath,
I see you leaving with the police.
I finally got rid of you.
I can't believe I waited,
UNTIL I WAS BLACK AND BLUE.
SK
NOTE: True story, I finally did the right thing and called the cops
In that moment his eyes swirled
with all of the love he held for me;
with every ounce of life that he
would happily lay down for me
In that moment I felt the covering
of all the pain I had ever felt;
the vanishing of every tear shed
through the trials life had dealt
In that moment the wind whispering
my destiny became a roar;
lifting me from my path riddled
with obstacles, making me soar
In this moment my heart does
not hurt; my tears do not sting
Let me live in this moment for
life; until my requiem they sing
07/21/2018
A wilted violet bows its pretty purple head,
Like me it has no energy as sorrow pleads.
My love, once so pure and vibrant now is dead.
My heart filled with passion, stilled, it bleeds.
I cannot bring him back though it would seem
I sometimes find him young and happy still,
So alive and handsome in a treasured dream.
If only I could conjure those dreams at will.
I often think that I can feel his spirit near,
With knocking sounds and blinking lights.
Late eves or early morn I hear his voice so clear.
I try so hard to connect with him those nights.
Sometimes I hold his watch and other things
I feel they retain vibrations of his energy.
I think of him surrounded by angel wings
And I know he is at peace with family.
10-07-21
This poem is about my husband Michael who passed away July 29, 2020
My son Robby passed away recently May 29, 2021 he was 44
I wrote a blog about my stepson Michael Jr. who is now in a nursing home slowly getting better thanks to all of your prayers. I know it seems confusing.
**Thank you very much Team Poetry Soup for the honor of POTD
Oct. 9, 2021**
-Toddler Sky-
Down where I sleep,
You hold me, embrace my every way
The Marks up on my skin
You caress, taking away from the ugliness
Watching the simple breath, when I breathe
Breaking the ice, soothing my inner peace
A sweet spray across the paleness in my limbs
Holding the warmth, I've been loved throughout my life.
From picking up sticks to the walking stick
My loving dear I know you will always be there
A few wheel chairs, when broken bones mend
You know my every cure*
Walk with me across the hall
Through the oldness, and the boldness of every color in the sky
Thank you for taking me as I am
A light twinkle' every time I feel the colors of the rainbow drip
Now a newborn takes his form
In you I find the strength to stretch my arms and reach for every star
When happy moments fail,
I embraced the colors I found in you
I make out every tree, and wonder why and how?
I close my eyes to imagine the fun of chasing fireflies
Tonight I'm keeping my prayers simple, cute, and innocent
I will count sheep and search for sweet lullaby dreams
Smiling like a 3 year old this very moment,
You think I'm having "Baby Blues."
My loving dear, thanks for having patience,
Painting my way down a toddlers sky
Every time "P M S" hits
~SKAT~
Boring
Snoring
Warring
Whoring
Long life with a boring, snoring sod
made the wife a warring whoring broad.
For Your Turn For A Tyburn Poetry Contest
sponsored by charles messina
There’s the tightrope for you to walk, wire walker —
defying the gravity of reality and the reality of gravity
you know damn well he won't catch you when you fall
as your sticky grip on the star’s razor edge slips
back away from the black back-alley -
use the street’s angles and curves to your advantage
run! from the rouse of his lure
as the lore is as sordid as it is euphoric -
ruined as you are by the ruse of his rune
fade to disappearance with distance
ride the rift of spindrift; a smoke screen
as if you were never here
but the territorial she-wolf knows…
she dreams of pouring rain pooling on a blurry beach
though she may choose not to open sand-puddled eyes
intuition is not blind and instincts are hackled —
for she’s downwind of dual deception
and her elegant nose is one with the yellow-rose winds
her howls now haunt your hurricane
passion’s kite - once blissfully lost in windy swagger
brash in its stellar flash amidst a hazy starlit pinwheel -
has returned a stormy petrel
dark and hovering over self-inflicted wounds feeding on strife —
incised by the rapier side-eye of your conscience
you seek to stem the red flow of guilt washing up in waves
knowing you can’t dye scarlet heartbeats white
there’s the tightrope for you to walk, wire walker;
the bloodline — that which binds
a sinful sister’s envies to the sinless sister
and divides loaves of husband-lies for the bronze bloodless sinner.
Melodies of magical wind chimes
Carry me back to such blissful times
Hand-in-hand we planned for a long life
Dreams to share as you made me your wife
When a summer breeze rides on the seas
I still hear your voice and I’m at ease
Now I wander the shoreline alone
A child left behind by fate’s cyclone
As I stroke fallen plumes from a gull
I’m beset by memories to mull
Thoughts of warm nights we fished from the pier
Wrap my soul like a blanket so sheer
I’m transformed to the girl I was then
And, Sweetheart, I’m loving you again
When a summer breeze rides on the seas
I still hear your voice and I’m at ease
I’ve been lonely today so I’ll go
Where a summer breeze is sure to blow
Sitting on sand, I’ll set a new goal
To fill the void and make myself whole
If only I can open my heart
To a man whose loss won’t tear me apart
Just a tender embrace at day’s end
You were my love; he’ll just be my friend
When a summer breeze rides on the seas
I still hear your voice and I’m at ease
Transform me to the girl I was when
You let me love you again and again
*August 3, 2018.
I close my eyes and you, my love, are there.
I hear your deep voice as in our love song:
“Endless Love”, you sang, and I am aware
Your missing arms are where I most belong.
So many years we learned to share our parts
As our divine souls melded into one,
We loved each moment in our heart of hearts,
Such opposites we were, yet we had fun.
As this romantic lover’s day arrives,
My memories of you are crystal clear.
You Rest In Peace my love, yet our love thrives,
My spirit feels your spirit always near.
Deep in my heart I know you still are mine.
You will forever be…….my Valentine.
1-11-22
Forever My Love Valentine Poetry Contest~First Place~
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
Beauty and the Beast
In the deep core of her skin
I feel a human who is no saint
Cutting out her heart, ripping everything to shreds
Leaving my prey gutless, in every form of sin (HUSBAND)
Watch the last beat of her heart as I slowly slaughter your (WIFE)
Thank you for participating as I slowly kill her in every way
Stripping her down, enjoying her birthday suit
Watch as I slice her throat,
enjoy the color red pumping out her neck
She gasp, she gulps on her blood
Gently I reach in and remove her silent tongue
I devour her deepness, for all the beauty you mistook
Detaching all her limbs before she gave God her grace
I gave her no pity while she gave one last breath
Look at the empty emotions I left behind in her eye
Staring right back, as I pound a new cavity in her chest
Laughing at her brutal cry!
Confessing, it was time to satisfy the demons within
Chuckle at the thought, how beauty up and left
Trapped by God's given darkness,
Depressing abyss no one will miss
Her mind such a waste, a hunger she left behind only I can taste
Her eyes, I will cut and burn, for allowing him to blind her way-
Her red plum lips, I have sewn shut, for never speaking up-
Her tongue I swallowed completely
I could not stand the crying of the soon to be slaughtered sheep
Bathing naked in her guts for not defending herself
Plunging out her spine, pricking my finger on her hip
My blood gushing out thick while hers flows thin
Analyzing while mutilating, myself reflected twin
A mistake was to lurk, trapping the beauty within
Putting her in a coffin, knowing this will dry up the tears
I'm holding up a guard with an unbreakable shell
My prisoner in this body of lust, forgetting the meaning of hell
The women inside is dead, I murdered her long ago
The front I put upon is colder than snow
How can I let her find her Beauty-----------(WIFE)
When she still lives with the beast----------(HUSBAND)
I know her only secret,
That will give her life and brighten her glow
Give her a delicate rose and you will see!
The ugliness will melt, and reveal her true identity
*Thank you Beast,
*For reminding me what killed the Beauty
~5/20/2010~
Believing that marriage was ordained of God;
that, like a seed, it needed constant nurturing,
she sowed her deep devotion with a hope
that stretched beyond an ordinary scope.
That hope scanned schisms that had left her desolate-
until it reached the heavens with her prayers.
Time and time again, her spouse complained or failed to do small things
essential to cementing the marriage bond.
With unusual restraint, she held her tongue, forgave. . . and listened.
If matrimony were the fire in a hearth, she supplied the kindling and the logs;
then lauded him for twigs that on occasion he tossed in.
Some nights she’d lay a weary head upon the chest
of the one she called her husband (when he was fast asleep and didn’t know).
In those moments, she felt the beat of that heart he never showed to her.
With humbleness she supplicated God
that she might find connection with her mate.
She wondered and she wondered why. . .if thoughts, invisible,
which were transmitted to the Lord, were able to be recieved by Him,
why could not her words, directly spoken to the one on earth she loved, be heard?
Daily on her knees, she telegraphed celestially with a faith most extraordinary. . .
and wisdom came. Her love would not be broken, and she grew.
The seed she’d planted took root too and grew until there came a time. . .
she laid a graying head upon the chest
of one that was her husband (not just in word only);
a someone who now watched HER as she drifted off to sleep.
With his heartbeat strong in her ear,
she heard him whisper softly, “I love you” as he kissed her cheek goodnight.
For Audrey Carey's "To Err Is Human to Forgive Divine"