Best Numbly Poems


Premium Member The Moaning of My Heart

I laid my heart upon your grave
That winter day when trees were bare;
Their withered leaves fell down to brave
The chill of winter death and share
With you the frozen ground and air.
Cold tears of rain helped to impart
The gloom, as prayer some comfort gave…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.

I plucked a crimson rose that lay
Upon your grave as rain fell down
And joined my tears that solemn day.
I held it to my heart to drown
My hurt, then slowly turned around
To numbly make my way to part
And join with loved ones home to pray…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.

Then April came on quiet feet
To wake the trees with budding bloom.
Thawed ground gave birth, in Springtime heat,
To grass, that hid the ashen gloom.
Now stung to life by Springtime’s womb,
The golden youth of Earth gives start
To find new hope, new season greet… 
But oh, the moaning of my heart.

I stand in shadow of death's sting;
Oh Dad, why did you have to part?
Help me to heal with reborn Spring…
But, oh, the moaning of my heart.
Categories: numbly, death, farewell, father, father
Form: Ballade

Echoes of You

The saddest sound in all the world,
The bagpipes weep as raindrop pearls
Land to take on grass-green hue:
Tears to mourn the loss of you.
Your boys line up with shaking lips
And breaking hearts to numbly grip
Your modest coffin; spirits brave,
They trek toward your dewy grave.
We follow you through wind and rain.
The pipes still croon their sad refrain.
We bury you with roses white,
A tragic yet tremendous rite.

And as you sleep beneath the ground,
The echoes of your life resound.
Categories: numbly, grief, hope,
Form: Sonnet

'dear Prudence'

Hell breaks loose through the trusting door
Whining its splintering, wooden hinges
Claws wrapping onto the arches beyond
Gnarled feet pressed on the threshold
Lower limbs jingling with sparky anklets
Ready to catapult and kick with spitting mouth
To shove its shine like a worthy prick
It was time for her daily purges

Peace is slapped about in her fickle hands and made ragged
Turmoil in her pedicured toes erodes the smoothed surfaces
Of the fashions’ must, into dusty rust of sick disgust

Her coral lips curve in delight
At the sight of confused and crazy creatures
Staring numbly at her hell-bent sight
She is always laughing, snarling or lying low
Waiting for the climatic blow 

Bottom dwelling, blush smearer 
Eyeliner runner, nail-biting binger
Her lies tease and her eyes see a perfect she will never be
As her large, curved nails glimmer 

She scuttles her way like a crab in a salty delirium
She hides her hiss like a snake ready to miss for a chase
Challenging practicality,
“Dear Prudence, 
Won’t you come out to play?”
But we are silent to the accursed 
The wise are wary and rehearsed

We all slip right through as she intrudes an empty room
Waiting for a reaction, screwing with the lights to assert a distraction 
She wreaks havoc in the dark,
“Dear Prudence!”
She screams,
As we softly walk down the path, nomads against the crabs
She doesn’t realize she is her worst fear—alone
Her mask melting and her anklets snapping
Collapsing, the tears she squeezed for her high
Were emptied, vindicated and dried 
Angrily she must realize
In her twisted, stubborn way

It’s a beautiful day… 

A crazy collab with my brother David Breidenthal [J.W Earnings]
Categories: numbly, angst, dark, judgement, life,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Rose

The Rose


Dear Dad- I plucked a crimson rose that lay
upon your grave, as icy rain fell down
and joined my warm, wet tears that winter day.
Unto my heart, I pressed it close to drown
my mournful thoughts and feelings deep inside.
And then I numbly made my way back home
to grieve and heal with loved ones by my side.
But soon they left, and I was all alone.

That night I placed the crimson rose within
a random place inside a book of prose
and it pressed flat for quite some time therein.
One day I opened it to find I chose
the place that God directed me to lay
that rose in answer to my prayers of where
you were in death so that my heart could say
that everlasting life was yours to share.

What I had hoped I know for sure is true-  
for words upon the page where that rose slept,
"The Grave," by Robert Blair, bodes life anew-
in God’s eternal life our souls are kept.
My keepsake rested in a book of prose-
God’s intervention was my only guide.
Mid secret pages dried your crimson rose-
God’s answer to my prayer- with thanks, I cried.


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Any Sad Poem
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 12/23/2015

~2nd Place~
Contest: Not Your Average Ballade
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
Judged: 05/09/2015
Categories: numbly, death, god, mystery,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

A Look Inside

I came as an unaffected statue
Halloween depiction depicting everything
vaguely-leaving margins for misinterpretations
like hieroglyphics deciphered by illiterates
scawling crayon scratch book reports

Walk in these shoes
Feel the pavement scrape through openings worn through souls
and feel the contours of the Earth ravaging
           ~merciless~
Take the reigns of this chariot
rambling around on undiscernable tracks often
backwards-hobbling humbly
numbly picking up pieces from a patchwork jigsaw
picture possesing voids in the most beautiful places

Climb this tree and know the shaky footfall limbs
sprawl like weeping willow tendrils on my fathers branch
bare and abandoned like locusts came, fed, and fled
watch the forest flourish and realize
this tree is flawed yet resilient
rooted in the strength of adversity

Stethoscope this heart and enjoy the offbeat beat
thumping in uneven peak and valley arrythmia
loving deeply and loved shallow, coldly
berating every executioner who killed
my adoration quotient with dull unfeeling axes
Leaving tides turned, churning me to hurt
Vengefully....Senselessly
Leaving no paths passing me passively
~~passion is my blessing and curse
Categories: numbly, introspectiontree, me, tree,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member We Have a Problem: Nude Selfies Replace Romance

“Send me a pic,” he sent with a smile, 
“Share what you’re hiding away.
You’re a beautiful girl, not like the rest, 
And you’re never ever even afraid.”

“Hmm, let me think, can I really trust you?” 
She replied as quick as she could,
“Sure you can,” he sent, quick as a flash, 
“My intentions are all really good.”

So she slipped off her top, behind a locked door, 
And numbly stood all alone,
And sent this guy, a photo of her, 
Her confused body standing at home,

And this is their life, for new teenage years, 
Pleasure removed from the dance,
Intimacy gone, replaced with an image, 
Nude selfies replacing romance.
Categories: numbly, anxiety, internet, society, technology,
Form: Quatrain


Inside a Cubicle

We work inside a cubicle. 
Our faces bathed in bluish glow
Like corpses at a funeral, 

But if we're dead we don't yet know. 
Instead we numbly press on keys
Within our lidless coffin row.

Complacency is our disease
For nothing changes day to day;
A truth a habit guarantees. 

Yet soon this herd with faces gray, 
These mindless, faceless, zombie-men,
Will shuffle off each on their way

To find our peace, some rest, but then
Once more at eight we'll rise again.

4 25 2019
Quirky Tercets Contest
© Jesse Rowe  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: numbly, work,
Form: Terza Rima

This Place

In the cold depths of my barren soul,
I lay here slowly dying,
A very sad sight for one to behold,
The doctor just sits there with cold eyes and judging stares,
Oh god I'd wish he'd just say something,
That way ill know that he's really there.
My world is much different than your world,
You just couldn't possibly understand,
With stares of disgust, pointing fingers unjust,
My lifes in the hands of this man.
All these pills I must take,
To make the voices go away,
These pills they don't work,
I think im  going insane.
Silently, numbly drifting,
Drifting away to this place,
The look of utter horror,
Was the look you had on your face ,
This place is a good place, a safe place for me,
You chose it don't you remember?
A place were you cant bear to be.
Categories: numbly, confusion, family, health, life,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Escape From Purple

Purple facial bruises portrayed how her dreams died,
and purple blurs mocked her heart that numbly cried.

Mute were the many broken layers she kept concealed.
Frozen fears could melt her down if allowed revealed.

Nowhere was anyone in whom she could safely confide.
Her nightmare shared could snare another terror-tied.

Tonight, she’d run with strangers who individually knew
fragments of her whole escape from purple’s purview.



... CayCay
January 26, 2019
Categories: numbly, abuse, anxiety, betrayal, dark,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Pooh's Hungry Tummy

"Oh, dear! There's a lion in my tumbly,"
Winnie the Pooh, said, "I'm feeling numbly"
I'll climb up the tree and get some honey.
Nothing'   like sweet honey on a sonny
Day near the honeybees playing dumbly.


2/16/2022
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: numbly, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme

I Saw Him Again

I saw him again, late last night,
staring off in the distance under the star's gentle light.
He stands there staring, trembling with hurt,
numbly never moving, never saying a word in his heart.
Night after night, he continues to stand,
alone with a picture held tight in his hand.
A picture of who I can't say,
at least, I couldn't until I found it one day.
Unknowingly dropped but all my wonder made clear,
there it was on the ground, muddied by tears.
So pretty she is, so happy they seemed,
the darkness holds captive unforgettable dreams.
On the back, her name, also with his,
faded but there, the print of a kiss.
"Forever us," traced over with pen,
the reasons revealed of the man called him.
Her name he wrote, still fresh on the ground,
the forever he lost, I laid back down.
Categories: numbly, lost love
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Divine Intervention

Divine Intervention


Dear Dad…I plucked a crimson rose that lay
upon your grave, as icy rain fell down
and joined my warm, wet tears that winter day.
Unto my heart, I pressed it close to drown
my mournful thoughts and feelings deep inside.
And then I numbly made my way back home
to grieve and heal with loved ones by my side.
But soon they left, and I was all alone.

That night I placed the crimson rose within
a random place inside a book of prose,
and it pressed flat for quite some time therein.
One day I opened it to find I chose
the place that God directed me to lay
the rose in answer to my prayers of where
you were in death so that my heart could say
that everlasting life was yours to share.

What I had hoped I know for sure is true...  
for words within the page where that rose slept,
"The Grave," by Robert Blair...bodes life anew;
in God’s eternal life our souls are kept.
My keepsake rested in a book of prose...
God’s intervention was my only guide.
Mid secret pages dried your crimson rose...
God’s answer to my prayer…with thanks, I cried.


September 16, 2014

~1st Place~
Contest: Avatar
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Judged: 12/16/2017
Categories: numbly, death, father, god, heaven,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

Premium Member Regrets

I return each year to make my peace
I wade through  quilts of grass and stone
Beside the  mounds, of cold damp earth
And pray it's true.......that angels hear
Will gather 'round to listen, now

I need to know that somewhere there
is someone close, to feel my breath
To hear the words I've left unsaid
or accolades I should have shared

But words, too late, I've kept unspoken
inaudible,  are broken tears
and with regret, I will come
to spread transparent words around

I should have sung them long ago
Toss them like leaves, so you would know
to catch them like the leaves of fall...
And gently you would gather them 
to keep them for your heart to own

Through the years I've held regret
From things suppressed that froze my tongue 
And with regret, words linger yet, 
Still hovering to weigh me down

---------------------------
For Catie's Contest: "No More Masks"    
Inspired by a poem by Angelina W. Grimke 

The Eyes of My Regret

Always at dusk, the same tearless experience, 
The same dragging of feet up the same well-worn path 
To the same well-worn rock; 
The same crimson or gold dropping away of the sun 
The same tints, - rose, saffron, violet, lavender, grey 
Meeting, mingling, mixing mistily; 
Before me the same blue black cedar rising jaggedly to 
a point; 
Over it, the same slow unlidding of twin stars, 
Two eyes, unfathomable, soul-searing, 
Watching, watching, watching me; 
The same two eyes that draw me forth, against my will 
dusk after dusk; 
The same two eyes that keep me sitting late into the 
night, chin on knees 
Keep me there lonely, rigid, tearless, numbly 
miserable - 
The eyes of my Regret.
Categories: numbly, appreciation, longing, sad, words,
Form: Free verse

Nociceptive Nomad

Withering wandering waves of a wasted will
The Nomad stands in solace within the silent still
Universal laws that lock and securely seal
Metaphorical minds that soon rebelliously reveal

Lachrymal light years that have gallantly gone
Pensive prisons meticulously molding a mortal pawn
Methodical madness mocking a soulless vessel
Where the deceived desiccated lie numbly nestled

A spirit stimulated by satiated slings and arrows
Barely escaping the narcotized narcissistic narrows
Vigilant valorous voids pleasingly passing through
To help distill the poisoned biotic bacterial brew

In the realms of the Nomadic turbulent tribes
Stands one alone with votive vibrational vibes.


June.08.2016
For Contest...
DISTANT THINGS...By John Lawless
Categories: numbly, analogy, conflict, emotions, identity,
Form: Sonnet

Unconventional Warfare

A convention of unconventional warfare
It’s the Olympics of BS, the mind boggles
Unrelenting coverage; I try not to stare
Through my thick, round minion goggles

Slogans chanted numbly trump reality
Still, there are three sides to every story
Windmills fall; eclipse goes to totality
Attention shoppers, Kool-Aid spill on aisle three

I’m trying to grasp, the mindset eludes
That would make you cheer deliriously
Reality, as it’s wont, invariably intrudes
While they wink conspiratorially

And speaking of warfare, it seems I’ve heard
Special ops uses aerosolized narcotics
So instead of feeding us the national turd
Give the politicians aerosolized antipsychotics

7/28/16
Categories: numbly, america, political,
Form: Quatrain
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