Best Sorrow Poems | Poetry

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New Sorrow Poems

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

Lines Written in Sorrow for Nigeria by Justice Ndubuisi, Chime
Sorrow of a Loveless Lover by Dillinger , Michael
sorrow all way along by SUREDDI, JYOTHIPRIYAA
Sorrow Destroyed by Phalen, Kent
sorrow is my scar by a.k.a. Broken Wings, Dear Heart
destined for a life of sorrow by davis, robin
I feel The Touch Of Sorrow by Crisci, Andrew
Headstone Of Sorrow by Behm, Kurt Philip
Through time, through sorrow by Moseamedi, Raynolds
Sorrow by a.k.a. Broken Wings, Dear Heart

View all new Sorrow Poems

The Best Sorrow Poems

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Indian Ink

Listen to poem:
“Indian Accent”

Hear the whispers inside

Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow

A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices fall from the sky;    -Rising hymns release 
-ancient demons that   CLING to the soul

Darkness dwells under - gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World!
Weaving Native smoke into the barren air
Indian spirits haunt the muddy Earth---
Moccasin makers rise from underneath;    While
  guardians of dream catchers - print the Universe
Smooth thread from the outer world; 
Arrowheads,   Ivory gems,   feathers, and illusions
I stumble upon a florid kiss.......   My veins;
Run Cold, like ice through a desert night.

Winds of enchanted drums - cry out for rain
Hollow chimes mesmerize,  my ties,  my eyes
An ancient rage begins to flare --- MADNESS! 
- takes place among the sanity of  who   I am
The spear of the perfumed buffalo scrapes my skin
I remove the veil that covers my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Drying the scalp that bleeds on my face

KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!

Raven silk braids and feathers on my hair
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
*
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly.

I AM A BIRD!

By; PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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Broken

~Suicidal Night~

I sit alone in the dark
In the dark I sit alone
Nobody sees me
I see nobody

Flowers, above
My eyes have darkened to a color never seen before
Forever closed!
 
It Rains!
It Rains!

In this room, I've drowned too many times
I remember cascades of water under my eyes
My satin sheets wrinkle and cold
I die and die every night
No one sees the pain that kills me every day
Wounds that reach 6 feet deep

Lucid demons
Bleeding wrist
Scary dreams
My mind is screaming
---
Incomplete'
Torn'
Broken-
Is how I live

I'm alone-
No one's around.
My body's like a coffin
Stiff in my own home.

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013


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Touch Me

"In Touch With Myself"

I can't seem to find her
The reminder of yesterday
I shut my eyes for a few seconds
Only there, can I reach to bear upon her face
The moment I open my eyes
The earth opens and she disappears
Every now and then
Darkness takes form around the blank wall
It brings out a long lost silhouette.
-I inhale a small desire, 
reaching and tracing every line left behind.

I Just can't seem to reach her
The girl drowning deep inside
I turn around to look and feel no one by my side
It's been long since she slowly faded away
I gaze into the mirror and miss her every day
For one second past,
I swear she was there.

Lately, I can't seem to find her
That girl I was before
Empty feelings continue to lounge about
Rejecting yesterday away.
-Honestly, I don't know why I bother,
holding on to somebody that is no longer there?

By:PD



Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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Love in the Silence of the Soul




As a young boy
Sitting in a pew
The winter darkness pressing down
Candlelight waves from hidden drafts
Shadows danced on the walls

I heard the words destined to me
“Be still . . . know that I am God”
So I listen  . . . eyes open
“The Passion of Christ”
I was gone . . . 

I saw eyes . . . 
Judas under the olive trees - Gethsemane
His eyes  . . . cold, darting  . . . filled with manic evil
Torchlights hissing  . . . turning eyes yellow
Then a kiss and chaos erupts
I closed my eyes  . . . suddenly afraid

Now I see a set of eyes  . . . filled with burning hate
A High Priest screaming . . .    B-L-A-S-S-P-H-E-M-Y ! ! ! ! !
All around ugly eyes staring with dripping contempt
Old men spitting with bared rotting teeth
Then I noticed . . . and . . . 
And my heart ached . . . 
Jesus . . . standing quietly with closed eyes

Then we were off to Roman authority -- Pontius Pilate
I saw his slanted eyes . . . squinting as if too much sunlight
Loud voices yelling outside . . .  “Crucify him!”
In my heart, I cursed these people – but his eyes
His eyes were dark, soft – forgiving
A hand washing and we are walking . . . 

To a hillside, a place called Golgotha – the skull
Empty eye sockets . . . a place of death
The eyes of soldiers hard, focused  . . . 
Spikes, woods – his sad eyes burning my heart
Closing my eyes, I heard a sharp gasp . . . soldiers yelling
“Lift”

As I opened my eyes – I was looking out with his eyes
We were seeing the same things
Angry faces with eyes of burning ashes
Taunting and jeering – a wave of hysteria hitting us
I heard and felt a deep groan 
Fear gripping me – I knew instantly we needed to go
Now!

Men, women, soldiers, slaves, leaders, teachers 
Eyes filled with blood lust
Evil, hatred . . . . I can’t breath
Death coming with the darkness
Jesus!        Can’t you see . . . 
Then I heard him whisper
 “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”

My heart sank realizing with horror
Jesus is staying . . . dying
I felt his purposeful breathing
Muscles, bones, joints aching with a searing pain
My eyes filled with tears

I saw another set of bloodshot eyes
A voice next to me yelling
“If you’re the Christ, get down from the cross
And take me too!  Let’s go!”
NO, NO!!!  . . . What is he saying
Those are my words – I am sick
My stomach seizes  . . . guilt fills me
I close my eyes

Another voice – on our right speaks
“Lord, remember me . . . “
Jesus painfully turns, twisting his body . . . looking . . . 
He sees blue eyes – my eyes
I am hanging next to Jesus
“Today you will be with me in Paradise”

We were one – together . . . one body
Now separate crosses . . . I feel crushed by loneliness
But his words . . . “Paradise” . . . “today”
He loves me – I see him looking at me
His eyes illuminating my soul . . . it hurts
I tried crying out – I love you . . . 
But only a sob squeaks out

Gravity pulling down pulling down
Eyes straining against the pain
Joints and ribs stretching . . .  popping
Chest heaving for each breath
Body convulsing against wood
Head back . . . eyes wide open . . . he screams
“My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?”

No one answers . . . surprised eyes
In my tears I felt the agony of the cross
The bleakness . . .  hell
Dead eyes

Back in the pew
I heard the preacher 
“He died for you”
What . . . why . . . no . . . 
No, I don’t want you dead
Jesus?

                       .
                       .
                       .

Hey, wait for me – slow down
Running hard, breathing deeply
I stuck my head in empty tomb – hum??? . . . . 
I sat quietly next to Mary Magdalene . . . wondering
The gardener spoke – “Mary”
But he was looking at me – bright eyes
He said . . . “David”
“David, I love you”

Yes!!  Woo Hoo . . . 
Look at me . . . I am dancing
With shinning eyes 
“I love you too”
“I love you”
“Lord Jesus”
“I do”









David Meade
02/22/2015

Love Generously


Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2015


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The Ballad of the Poet

*The Dead Poet*

Many blocks along the road, 
Kicking down walls of heavy stones, 
Yet no one could draw through the walls of her lonely bones.
A poet who could not write what's inside. 
Her pen had gone ink dry. 
Her beady eyes lost the feel of an angelic realm.
She tried! 
She tried until she could no longer cry!
A poet who stuttered with the mind and out came no words.
This poet hangs on a mound with a picture that tells a sad tale.
A poem that broke verses in a Carpe diem dream.
She ruffled her arms once more as if she could fly.
Still nothing, 
Everything felt dead inside. 

Trap in a mental state that clots the willing vein.
Isolating her form in a room with no door.
She stays this away from the feel of the marvel pen.
To never go back, and feel again.

In the most ominous way,
She lets out a cry, 
A cry, never heard before. 
Running from this evil, that stain her world. 
 
Words buried deep and behind a new exterior box, 
Her insides grasp all the air of airs once alive. 
A talon drop into the next,
This troublesome poet gave up on everything. 
Had nothing left, but the empty space within. 

Next!
She curls herself into a fetal world.
At last, she closes her eyes, to feel no more.
A poet who died the day, joy wiped the glee from her face.

by;PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field

Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field
(A Tribute)

Tough as nails young man with a red right hand
red-fire and whiskey ran in his blood.
Courageous seed of vast and cold hard land
quick temper, power of a surging flood.
Seeker of life, its promised mysteries
rash gambler with all he would ever own.
Born on ship in high wind swept, roaring seas
toughest warrior his town had ever grown.

Met his fate by volley of red-hot lead
buried on ground scared and battle blasted.
Aye boys, fodder that machine guns were fed
fools marching to death, long as it lasted.

Now flowers cover up and Time denies
scenes of battle torn soil and blood-red skies.

R.J. Lindley
April 23rd, 1975

SONNET-(DEATH AND WAR'S FUTILITY)
Tribute to Courage of Youth-- Second Battle of Ypres, April 22nd 1915 .

Note- added - 8-26-2017

Wiki-
The name Flanders Fields is particularly associated with battles that took place in the Ypres Salient, including the Second Battle of Ypres and the Battle of Passchendaele. For most of the war, the front line ran continuously from south of Zeebrugge on the Belgian coast, across Flanders Fields into the centre of Northern France before moving eastwards — and it was known as the Western Front.

The phrase originates from a poem titled In Flanders Fields by Canadian Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, inspired by his service during the Second Battle of Ypres. The fields were not maintained for years before they were made into a memorial. Today Flanders Fields is home to thousands of poppies.

--------------------------------------

Found this while rummaging through some of my old poems. Decided not to edit it. Leave it as it was composed over 42 years ago..
Added the note for those not familiar with that battle and its horrific carnage, primarily from the insanity of large bodies of troops marching into direct machine gun fire.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017


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In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope

In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope
           (The Solemn Prayer)

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

On this day, life should see past these looming black-storms
Find solace in love, hope and my loving wife's arms
Yet that stone wall, yields to nothing but great power
Far more than this broken soul can muster this hour
When thus lost, can one ever find again that Light
Healer of dagger stabbed wounds, found on a dark night
I pray, gift wisdom to walk that one true-lit path
Release this sad soul from, this evil, wicked wrath.

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

Robert J. Lindley, 2-07-2017

Syllables Per Line: 
12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12
Total # Syllables: 288
Total # Words: 225

Note-  I decided to write this poem, this morn. About half had already been composed in my head yesterday afternoon and I finally sat down now to put pen to paper.
Believe me, in that it was not an easy task to finish this and be satisfied with the results.
Maybe I am just tired and stopped because of that.
I don't know. Maybe on another day, I could have and would have thought this lacking and rewritten it..
But today, I have only enough to say, this is as it is(and thus it may stay), hope you may find it agreeable and not fault me too much .......


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017


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Texian Macabre Arena

The First Texian Macabre Arena Ballad (The extended free-fallen edition)
 
In another life, is where I first saw your face!
One summer afternoon, lying wounded next to the dead
Unopened gun powder, mass destruction, a land of disgrace
A blood thirst battlefield is where I first saw your face
The sound of war, hidden behind bleeding hands
Crawlers, render their lives giving grace
 
Jaws of steel, broken, embracing, warm feelings
Summer rain, lungs filled with blood, one last post
Glorious by numbers, screaming blades
Gemstone in touch with the Holy Ghost  
Soldiers come in a little close 
Crawling, missing limbs, 
Twisted nightmare with no ending

Macabre reminder, retracing the aroma of eternal life
Secrets buried like a treasure under walls of sudden death
Revolutionary tears found on a rusted Bowie knife
Lanterns, crackling against the dying wind
Dirt piles of crushed windpipes -- sudden death
Rummage like garbage, the dead Texian
A Falling Alamo Star, taking one last twinkle upon the sky

Forgotten Patriots, I can't remember the names
Written on walls, I can't remember the names
A folktale arena is where I first saw your face
Fairness of stuttered surrender slicing through iron brace
Crawling, with the hunger to live, a clean finish with grace
Exposing, scars needing mother's hands, mothers face

Across infested meadows, the aroma of burning skin
Distant, before Texas and her annexation, 
Gruesome, before I lived, Texas and her mortal sin
I pledge, my love, the honor, a legion, I'm a full blown Texian
To Every Forgotten Texian Patriot----- We Win!

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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PLEASE

~PLEASE~
 
Please pick me up!
Never mind I'm gonna fall, anyways
 
Please show me how to tie my shoes and sing a song! 
Don't worry mommy, I'll walk barefoot and teach myself one day
 
Please daddy show me how to ride my bike!
Never mind It takes up too much of your time
 
Mommy, please do not hit me again!
It's okay, I need to be taught a lesson
 
Cousin please do not touch!
Go ahead, they won't believe me anyway
 
Teacher, please defend me in school!
Never mind, my body is used to the abuse
 
Please don't tell me sleeping with you is the only way! 
Okay, I need to be loved even if it's for one night
 
Please teach me how to raise a baby!
It's okay, I can't blame others for my mistake
 
Please don't get violent when you drink tonight!'
If it makes you feel better hit me, 
I'll hide the bruise with makeup & tears
 
Please tell me that I'm beautiful!
Wait! Your right I'll never look like her!
 
Please someone call 911!
Never mind, it's only a broken bone
 
Officer, please don't take my husband?
Don't you know it was my fault, he loves me and won't hit me again
 
Please don't ask what happen to my face!
That's what I get for standing up and defending myself
 
Please God don't take my baby!
Go ahead and take her I don't deserve her
 
Please don't tell me your not in love with me!
I understand I'll never be worthy of your heart
 
Please don't walk away and break my heart!
It's okay, I never made progress or was good enough
 
Please someone help, I'm hurting inside!
Never mind my feelings don't count
 
Please God, can you hear me!
Please God, can you rescue me!
Please God, can you walk with me!
Please God, can you show me the way!
 
God- I was a baby, I was weak, and did not talk
God- you didn't protect me on my first fall
God- I was abandoned and neglected before I learned to crawl!
God- even you rejected all my prayers and call
 
I understand now I don't need nothing! 
I don't need no one at ALL
So PLEASE, PLEASE leave me alone, behind these walls 
.                              **
Please! If you read this teach me how to smile
WAIT! Smiles don't come with self blame & guilt

by;PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011


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MONSTER

    MONSTER

Shackles nor chains, can't change what it is.....
Never was it, the one hiding under the bed, 
It was me, tired of it getting inside my head
.... I can still feel, the groping at my feet,
Pulling me from under the sheet,
A victim to your personality 
Nothing can, uninstall these walls
--- Walls of bricks, that can't be taken down

On the night, I've learned of your return 
My bones began to shiver, as they too shudder,
   remembering every black tinge feeling left behind. 
Before the bricks, your filth put my innocence into your victim's box
Without a voice, I fell with no one to rescue me...
Sometimes, I wondered who else had to look into its heinous eyes
Nights without security, you crept in' with every morning cry
With nowhere to hide, I found myself constantly victimized.  

Nefarious, at my bedside, how did I manage to survive?
Unwanted communication, stole my youthfulness away,  
So young, yet persistent diabolical stories hide inside
Bones turned into a tomb of stones
Decayed and withered years, never to be unveiled
Some stain will never wear off or be forgotten
The monster, I once helped shut down,
Soon to return on another bedside,
Now, someone else will close their eyes, 
   And hear the monster's whisper, "Shh, don't tell, or else!"

And just to think for a moment I felt safe,  the air felt different
Now, I feel dirty all over again, 
No one can fix or put the ease back to sleep.....
Just as long as it still LIVES'

 *** 


#Monsters Living in Our Society 
#Let's take them down one by one


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2018


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A tribute to Leonora G

~ Yolanda was--her name ~    Featuring:) Leonora Galinta

From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315 
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility 
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything

Like a Massive Storm  
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night, 
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder, 
With the company of her own knight of darkness, 
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses, 
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.” 

A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet, 
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength, 
Nature devouring nature itself 
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children. 

Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare 
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain, 
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity

Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength- 


:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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We'll Always have San Andreas

-rearranging the stars-

How could we agree to separation? 
If you were destined to be my soulmate,
Why would we allow the stars to change our fate?
They've written in a fresh verse 
Sewing in a new song, soon to be sung
The Stars are not to blame
The fault lies deep within our hearts

Like earthquakes wondering through the years
separating silicone valley of tears.
Sweeping sweet dreams far away
What has become of my day?
Today the sun sets holding on to old hope
Tears fall down a sudden slope

Now my dreams are drowning down another road
Tonight I sit under the aspen cold
Alone, no longer in search of gold
Naming nights you whispered words of love to my soul

Your love no longer speaks 
Without warning, the Midas touch slowly fades
In my chest  -  I find fault  
The sound of heartache echoes every day
Rejuvenating every crack from display
In plain sight, I search for thee
The sun  -The moon  -The madness  -The Salton Sea
My heart no longer speaks

Everything I dream of sinks like the night
Stuck in quicksand  -- the aftermath
Healing scars the aftershock left behind
Finding ways to fill the gloom
Alas bridal curtains sit silently in my room
Setting boundaries between Earth's poetic plates
Like an earthquake passing through my heart 
You left like the moon, moving mountains apart

IS THERE SOMETHING YOU forgot TO TELL Me, dear
Suddenly, San Andreas Fault looks tragic from here
Until then I will hold my breath
In hopes, our Plates will meet again 

By: PD
6/29/15


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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Hope, A Little Remained

Hope, A Little Remained

She walked the creaking floors of the rat-infested room,
trying to remember what tragedy had sent her to this shabby place.
Her heart felt the desperate pains, that lost love sends in aching waves,
praying her sleeping infant does not wake and cry out from its feverish thirst.

He paced the cold cell, languishing in deep misery, heart shattered,
each step an eternity echoing curses, a testament to his broken pride.
Although thousands of miles apart, he felt her loss, never-ending sorrows,
dawn would come, priest would take his last confession, yet Hope remained.

7-03-2018
For Silent One's,  eight lines of fate, when you wonder if it is too late.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | 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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Remembered In Thy Full Bloom - End - A Collaboration With Robert Lindley And Teppo Gren

And now doth come my end, I see death's light, 
death doth touch my heart, now eternal love. 
My beloved, I see thee shining bright, 
I now praise death as I ascend above. 

As my life's last shadow so swiftly falls, 
pray I, this aching soul hears thy dear voice. 
Ancient echoes whisper love words, thy calls, 
now dear wife, I fly forth, your love my choice. 

In heaven‘s garden thy rose blooms in trine, 
as love’s eternal bond in sacred love 
is cast beyond the faith of God’s design, 
and prayers of truth are whispered up above.  


Notes:

This poem was written to try and find the sadness of a man lost in deep despair. His only escape are those small moments when his memories sigh his beloved to him. He is ready to welcome death so he can be with and hold his beloved again. Death will be a release.

Poem started 20. 03. 2017.
Poem finished 08. 04. 2017.
Poem posted 10. 04. 2017.


Syllable count..........400
Word count.............464
Line count ..............60


It has been both an honour and a pleasure to work on this piece with Robert and Teppo. They did make it so easy for me with their wonderful words to play off. The journey through words with my two friends was well worth the taking. 

Your Friend always....Mike.


Copyright © Vladislav Raven | Year Posted 2017


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In Woes And Throes Of Sorrow


I rise and fall like melancholy tides in ebb and flow of wistful disrepair, our separate in consciousness divides, the whiff of grief fills broken-hearted air. Neglected now, heartstrings' rawhide, I mourn with briny beads that water my dismay, eyes teary drizzled mist, inside forlorn, my psyche pierced by thorns in love's bouquet. Whatever will I do, this emptiness..? A gnawing hollow where my heart should be. My lonely preys me like a lioness, a simba stalks this lost love refugee. Soft morning sun does gaze into my eyes enlightening the depths of agonize. Susan Ashley November 17, 2017 ------------------------------ ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Best Sonnet Premiere Sponsor: Laura Loo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Your Best Sonnet October 1 - December 31, 2017 Sponsor: John Hamilton ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Poem Of The Day ~ November 18,2017


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2017


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Last Lie, Cold


Your breath upon the window freezes, lace

               Yet, warm upon my skin, its somber strains

                              As dampened words, collect in tears to trace

       The drip of sorrow weeping from my veins



Your perfect lips then tremble in a smile

               To press your pitied kiss upon my eyes

                              Three words, a whispered lie to thus defile

       The beggar's hope I had of sweet goodbyes



One last embrace, to mock the frigid air

               Your warm skin buried deep within your coat

                              The final knife, "goodbye", you bring to bear

       And drag the jagged word across my throat



Your crime of slighted passion, now complete

               My love, like blood, lays puddled ... at your feet.




~ 1st Place ~  in the "Your Best Sonnet 2018" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Sponsor.

~ 7th Place ~  in the "Best Sonnet" Poetry Contest, Laura Loo, Sponsor.

~ 7th Place ~  in the "Mid January 2018 Premiere Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor.



Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2018


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Moon in Pale Depression

Muted evidence proclaimed the subtle oddities of night

   Lunar time should have reached the zenith of its height

No chirping crickets were heard, nor angry feline brawls

   Lacking was the rhythmic chanting of nocturnal owl calls

No lengthened shadows grew where they should be cast

   The moon, in pale depression, had only risen half mast

Strange and sullen manner, for summer's interlude to end

   As though it were lamenting the loss of a beloved friend

Not just physical in nature, but with heartfelt immortal pain

   Darkened was the dead of night for one whose love was slain

In grief there is no consolation, the future bleak and ominous

   but there remains a hunger for love, one quite ravenous


Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2018


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A Wish -re-post-

A WISH -- In Memory Of 

"I Wish"

I wish I could blow air into your little lungs, 
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world. 
Hold your little body warm, 
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose....
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes....

I wish, 
I could look into your daring eyes, 
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I wish,
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson 
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts! 
~~~
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
~~~
How I wish you could be, 
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why o' why?

Mostly, I WISH grandma could fix this and make 
your mommy feel, the joy she was robbed of.

In memory of my grandson: ---Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013  ---   RIP March 25, 2013

----------
by;PD  :-(


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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Tears from my Ancestors

I'll drink tears from my ancestors in silence
From history's cup of their defiance
I'll sit in darkness where my soul is torn
and quench my parched thirst of self reliance

To understand their hell and be reborn
Remembering iron shackles, blood stained, worn
My mind reveals stones from a slaver's wall
Crumbling through years from a past I mourn

I carry each stone to the master's wall
Pulled from stoney fields with blood as a shawl
I'll stand among ruins of an anguished time
With memories of tears, feeling them fall

I touch every scar as history is blind
Reach my hands upward, my spirit will climb
and free my caged soul so a healing comes
I'll drink tears from my ancestors so they remind


contest..Writing in a Black Perspective
2/25/15


Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015


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Within Her Eyes

Sun Be Gone Let Her face befriend darkness so he may not seek those lips of red that plead that beg , needy for his kiss nor feel the aching for his touch So he may not look within her eyes and find there the afterglow of his love.
Brief Memories -For Flo's Contest


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016


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TRAIL OF TEARS

TRAIL OF TEARS

I've been there once,
I've been there twice
BLUE SKIES, never die!

A day of sorrow,
I can still feel the pain from yesterday,
The pain continues to sit there today,
It will continue to sit there tomorrow,
No word to say.
BLUE SKIES!
Nothing Less.

A trail of tears,
My life left

     
~SKAT~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010


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Become

I close my weary eyes
I quake and tremble
The meaning of life losing its hold,
Losing its wonder
In this magnifying, mystifying Sadness

Where is the river, 
Where is the ocean
To drown these sorrows...

The dry formations in this barren land stay tall,
Pools holding life drying in the dinosaur wasteland 
I am bones...
I am bones sinking in the waterless chalk

I keep these eyes shut
To hide inside my meditations
My ears have grown accustomed to the silence,
And sensitive to the drops of tears
They dry too quickly,
For the sun is against the moisture
And all for the fossilization of my soul

Where is the river?
Where is the ocean...

I do not ask with hope-
I am too ancient to beg for miracles
To dream, yet, too long I have slept
I ask on account of who I once was,
A land so lush and plentiful
See now only the dryest thrive

I am bones on the brink of history...
The elements have claimed me
Life will return elsewhere
I am become by the rock and the sun



Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015


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Lucifer

"Until an hour before the Devil fell, God thought him beautiful in heaven."

A thousand, million years had fled
then thousand million more,
yet it was still the morning.
And there stood one, Transcendent,
whom we call God and the Divine,
whose reasoned might 
stretched to clutch infinity—
and embraced eternity’s nether bounds 
to fashion perfect round—
beginning's instant fused 
with very end of things
that time endured no more.

Thus evening interlaced with morning,
from whose conjugative spawn emerged
a cosmic realm, its structure fine,
yet restive, taut and yearning.
Here coherence mingled self with
destiny, and thus arose intelligence.
Among its legion offspring,
daughters of the light
and one the son of morning,
a paragon of intellect—
in depth and reason boundless,
beautiful and firm, named Lucifer.

Beloved of Transcendence and
from whom the mighty angels
fled, nobility confounded.
Across mighty heaven’s parapets
he reasoned and opined.
And many thought him noble.
Yet temerity cannot assail wisdom
nor petulance conjure faith.
He, his mighty acolytes then stood 
and cried aloud, trumpeting insistence,
and became among the first
whose grasp did not exceed their reach.

And war ensued—
A war of vaunted intellect, 
but also narcissistic,
and rooted in deceit.
For he would exercise free will to battle,
then in victory rob all of its gift.
Therefore a quandary stood 
that would not reconcile with reason.
Defeated, Satan stood no more in heaven.
Godly was their sorrow when he fell.
Now in our eyes and hearts and minds
do not echoes of the war resound?

First Place: Julia Ward's Contest: Expand Arthur Miller's Thought from The Crucible (quote above).


Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2016


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Darkest Of Days, When His Ship Finally Came Home

Darkest Of Days, When His Ship Finally Came Home

A wicked chill, even her house could feel its creep
Tho' silence would not hear its horrific demands.
A dark dream, had awakened her from her deep sleep,
With it, she felt blight and doom had come to her lands.
Day's first somber hour, her heart felt its evil threats,
As old clock ticked away with a deafening roar.
She recited morning prayers, to hedge all her bets,
Went into dirty streets to give aid to the poor.
An angel waiting for ship to arrive in port,
Heart and soul knew, he had been away far too long.
Homecoming, one she prayed weather could not abort,
Time flew by, to docks she raced, love singing its song.

Faith, love and hope filled all her lonesome, aching heart,
With such promises, her wanting nights had been spent.
Sun shown bright, her heart suddenly felt a new start
With merriest of thoughts, onto the docks she went.
Crowd hovering around a blanketed body there
Suddenly her heart felt greatest of her dark fears
Please she prayed,"If its him, tis more than I can bear"
Then she saw, her feet felt wet of her falling tears. 
She had ran away, falling down to cry and pray
Looking back, at his ship's flag wave, in wafting wind.
Yet no answer came, Fate had had its dark death way
Answering her cries," Please Lord, let this nightmare end".

A wicked chill, even her house could feel its creep
Tho' silence would not hear its horrific demands.
A dark dream, had awakened her from her deep sleep,
With it, she felt blight and doom had come to her lands.
Day's first somber hour, her heart felt its evil threats,
As old clock ticked away with a deafening roar.
She recited morning prayers, to hedge all her bets,
Went into dirty streets to give aid to the poor.
An angel waiting for ship to arrive in port,
Heart and soul knew he had been away far too long.
Homecoming, one she prayed weather could not abort,
Time flew by, to docks she raced, love singing its song.

Robert J. Lindley, 2-19-2018
Rhyme 12/12,(When Fate Speaks)

NOTE- This was completed this morn, written from an old poem fragment from back in , April 2001. I am trying to finish many of my great many old poem fragments , before my time arrives , as Fate waits for no man!!


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018