Best Tearstained Poems


Premium Member The Poet

Etching tales that run in trails along a parchment sheet
From feathered quill in trembling hand so longing now for sleep
As black ink drips down from the lip that rounds the pewter well
While a raven watches from his perch on the windowsill  

Fluttering flames dance above a pool of cooling wax
As the candle wanes away against a night of velvet black
Recalling long lost love again by the glow of candlelight
In a dreamlike state the poet writes… long into the night

Smouldering eyes upon the joy and sorrow of his life 
Alone but for his tears the poet writes and writes and writes
Until he finds her there upon the shore of Evermore
Standing at the foot of heaven’s door… his sweet Lenore

His name a whisper on her lips above the ocean roar
Until the well runs dry and the poet writes no more
A broken quill on tearstained parchment in the early dawn
But the poem he wrote that velvet night…still lives on and on.

A Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe

Author: Elaine Cecelia George
Categories: tearstained, poets, writing,
Form: Quatrain

For My Children

You’re all in charge of authoring a story
Of love and humor, suspense and glory
You’re writing starts with your very first thought
And doesn’t end til your life is naught.

Know, My Dears, these books; your own
There are no cowriters; authors unknown
Flip those pages and make your quills dance
Miss no opportunities, take a chance

If somewhere in those thick tomes of yours
You have questions “whys and what fors?”
Do not ponder and then overthink
For there’s no such thing as permanent ink

There will be some tearstained pages
Most likely in your middle ages
There will be words you’d like to forget
Or phrases in which you may regret

But when it reaches the golden stage
The best of the story in a later page
Grab a pencil and throw some sparks	
And don’t be afraid of eraser marks

Then once it’s written and you do find
There was a time of hurt when life’s unkind
Go ahead and toss out awful chapters
Because Momma loves Happily Ever Afters
Categories: tearstained, for teens, life, my
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Echoes of Good-Bye

My life began with you and me
Two hearts, two minds, two pieces of a dream
Two individuals who loved without conditions
Two people who felt feelings beyond recognition
Two who became one like God planned long ago

My life began with sunshine streaming through the trees
Lighting up the world with misty sunbeam reflections
Of all that has been or ever will be mirrored in the brightness
Sparkling with effervescent fantasy and heartbeats
Beating out a rhythm of pulsating aspirations

My life began with sensations of colorful flames
Flickering with hypnotizing hues of blushing songs
Captivating my heart with mystery and wonderful thoughts
Reaching into my senses and pulling out a gentle touch
Carefully caressing each whisper of imagination

My life began with intense feelings exploding within
Capturing my muse, my inspiration, my idea of what should be
A new moment, a new thought, a new promise
All emotions piercing the inky ocean of feeling
Until a single tear splashes against my cheek

My life began with the thrill of renewed hope
A moment impassioned with ambition’s desire
Assurances of talent’s perceptions being cleared
Anticipation sweetly breathing out a tender concept
Reminding me that there are always new days to begin again

My life began with a single tearstained thought
Breathing reminders of precious moments spent with you
All sparkling with promises for a lifetime of love and passion
Carefully folded into threads of sincerity and serenity
Echoing a soft farewell that continues to resonate through me
	
©2014 by Regina Riddle
Categories: tearstained, goodbye,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Remember the Time . . .

Memories come and memories go
Always we get caught up in what they do
Mostly the good for the bad we ignore
But we glorify it all forget the core
Simply put our memories run havoc
Making our tearstained eyes like rock
Depressed we feel after thinking at times
And happy we get at each old dime
Alas we miss our very present sunshine
Looking back upon the longlost vines
Advice I give to you each in good humour
Look into the present don't forsake the future!
Categories: tearstained, depression
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Pain's Tomorrow

Pain’s Tomorrow


Why dost the hand of love surround my throat
hold hostage by each breath - lost passions hope -
imprison me within hot blooded moat
tethered agony - heartaches tearstained rope?

Couldst not the gods if they held such powers
release from bondage love’s extinguished flame
allow the blessing of times healing hours
erase the hollowed emptiness of shame?

For love has stolen love - left me wand’ring
within the emptiness of mem’ry’s dreams,
victims - guilt shared – complicit squandering
soft truth beneath the lies of lustful schemes.

Yet they reach beyond the pale of sorrow
lover’s - hope in search of pains tomorrow.



8/1/2016

submitted to – All I could do was surrender – Shakespearian Sonnet – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Becca Teagan
Categories: tearstained, loss, love, recovery from,
Form: Sonnet

The Tearstained Window

A summer rain arrived, unwelcome, cold and unannounced,
Spattering softly then louder, as if a hidden tiger had pounced.
I stared out of the window pane as the world turned silver-black,
With distorted reflections of lights from the thunder flash and crack.

A face stares back from the window, captured in each rain bead,
Like a fragmented, displaced reflection of a soul clinging to a need.
They wriggle down the window pane, as if searching for a course,
Like a hidden memory surfacing, loosening a mighty natural force.

Each bead a broken part of me or perhaps a fragment of my soul,
As it clings to the window pane, fighting and crashing as they roll.
Some they merge together as lover warriors against the world,
But they tumble fall to nothing as more raindrops are unfurled.

They softly flow away together, their identities lost from view,
Leaving the world so refreshed, fragrant as early morning dew
An order and a reason, portrayed so assured and so intense,
Rests behind its demeanour, its nature, is not an offence.                      

What of the different parts of me that are lost upon the pane?
They are washed away to nothingness and purified by the rain!
Categories: tearstained, metaphor, nature, rain,
Form: Couplet


Lullaby For a Stormy Night

Little child, be not afraid
The rain pounds harsh against the glass
Like an unwanted stranger
There is no danger
I am here tonight

Little child
Be not afraid
Though thunder explodes
And lightning flash
Illuminates your tearstained face
I am here tonight

And someday you'll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
And forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning

Little child
Be not afraid
The storm clouds mask your beloved moon
And its candlelight beams
Still keep pleasant dreams
I am here tonight

Little child
Be not afraid
The wind makes creatures of our trees
And the branches to hands
They're not real, understand
And I am here tonight

And someday you'll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
And forest and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning

For you know, once even I
Was a little child
And I was afraid
But a gentle someone always came
To dry all my tears
Trade sweet sleep the fears
And to give a kiss goodnight

Well, now I am grown
And these years have shown
Rain's a part of how life goes
But it's dark and it's late
So I'll hold you and wait
'til your frightened eyes do close

And I hope that you'll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
And forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning

Everything's fine in the morning
The rain will be gone in the morning
But I'll still be here in the morning
Categories: tearstained, baby, beautiful, care, children,
Form: Light Verse

Hashtaggetfckd

I'm not your tearstained dishrag. 
Will you end your suicide note with a hashtag? 
Just lock me in the metaphysical gulag. 
The real world's too much a drag 
for a ***. 

I am not digestible. 
I am a hunk of pyrite lodged in the 
jejunum of bureaucracy. 

I am a precious and coveted 
artifact hidden at the bottom 
of a recycling bin, underneath 
empty milk gallon bottles. 
Their pungent swill is a grimy 
filter for my blind beauty.
Categories: tearstained, death,
Form: Free verse

You

As I sit alone
in the empty field
With only my dreams 
A mountain outstretches
it arms to hug me
Its lips, to gently kiss
my tearstained cheek
Birds hum sad, sad songs
Of loves lost in time
Bring forth all the memories
I've tried hard to push
from my mind
Beauty surrounds me
Encircles me in a loving
touch
But still, all I wish for
Is you
It is always the same
You here with me
You to end my pain.
Categories: tearstained, lost love
Form: Rhyme

....The Scroll....

Turning the parchments pages

Of this tearstained scroll

Bombast tales, never, have I ever spoke

The writings of palladians life, unfolds

Beyond the reasons and beyond the rhymes

And beyond this once somnolent night

In front of the crowds, I have stood

Bowing toward these everbearing eversions

These sombered encores, for the disemboweled

Deafened ears and emptied eyes

The hues, of crimsons splashings

Gasping for breath, these souls of the plight

Blinding foreclosures, of what might have been

Sprinkled and shattered, shards of images

Dreams, that once were, now, splattered in red

Palladians parchment, of a ghost with no home

"Forever lost"....this light, this plight, this night

The night, of the living dead!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

......The Scroll.......
Categories: tearstained, visionary
Form:

The Pillow of You

I slept with your vision
in dreams last night,
'till glaring incision
of realities daylight
pierced my lonely eyes.

I awoke with a cold
sweat on my brow,
my pillow I hold
and wish that somehow
its' softness was you.

My temperatures' rising
of vain hopeful wish,
thru long days fantasizing
for the grace of your kiss
O could 'ere dreams come true!

Now the night it comes falling
on my lonely head,
once again I go crawling
to my tearstained bed
and the pillow of you.
Categories: tearstained, sorrow,
Form:

Premium Member Harmony

“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.”
                                      ~ William Wordsworth

What a peaceful sense of harmony I would feel
if the greatest moments in my dreams were real.
Those tender times together when we made love
are the thoughts I care about being reminiscent of.

I wake as dawn's luminance gently touches my face
and find I'm all alone. Of him, there's not a trace.
Again, I am conflicted, and my eyes seek in askance,
Am I to live in discontent without another romance?

I write of love to assuage the sorrow in my heart
but my pen and ink create tearstained works of art.
I've many pages of Sonnets written in lyrical rhyme,
Intimate lines of us when life was a melodic time.

One day love may find me again, outside of a dream.
A man whose eyes look at me and set mine agleam.
Whose touch makes me shiver, taking my breath away.
There will be harmony between us, we'll lovingly convey.


February 27, 2023
Writing Challenge ~ H Words Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: tearstained, lost love,
Form: Rhyme

Death of a Princess

Vultures swooped at fast
evading carrion;
Vespa hornet squadron buzzed;
Paparazzi psychology, ruthless
across screaming Macadam black
as the blackest slabs of night.

Sheet lightning born of
flashbulbs popping;
illuminated faces strobed
under toughened glass;
wide eyes, teeth gritted,
urging crazy dizzy velocity;
all the riches and love in the world
could not stop this madness.

The end came sharply defined
in pointless scream of brakes;
smoking tyres losing traction;
arms instinctively covering eyes,
futile protection from Death’s
unavoidable dominion.
The solid tunnel wall
shouted STOP!

A marriage of metal and unyielding
brickwork;
shatterproof glass shards,
wild pearls strewn on
black velvet cape;
rupturing vital organs,
impact snaps of compounded fractures;
far siren’s discord imaging
echoed anguish, amplifying fear.
The unmistakable odour of
Chanel and gasoline.

What images, what captured souls
lay on film in guilty cameras
shamefacedly dangling from leather straps
like one-eyed hanging men?
What story of the last of
life do they tell?
Must there be one of tearstained face,
speed-blurred under toughened glass;
host begging eyes ‘neath curling lashes,
agate yet ambivalent,
inviting or repelling;
lips parted, mouthing one last 
word:

please!
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: tearstained, death, history, people, sympathy,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Words Are Most Beautiful

Between love’s first glance and passion’s kiss,
Words fill the void, the space.
Impatient note transferred in class;
a clumsy, tearstained sonnet wrote
when ‘I love you’ seemed not enough;
the witnessed promises we made;
then whispered amatory kept.
The indescribable described.
Categories: tearstained, love, passion,
Form: Free verse

Birds of Transition

Woke last night to the sound of tears
felt a feeling that's been lost for years,
A smile kissed my tearstained cheek
cause I now am strong where I once was weak:
 
NightingGale came, rustling her tired wings
I admit my sight has seen stranger things,
There she sat, and there she stayed
Til the Morning sun washed Night away:
 
Hypnotic rythmns sing their blues
a new bird came with golden hues,
That NightingGale danced away with Night
Now shadowed by the Morning Light:
 
Here I remain with sweet Morning Bird
she sings the song and I speak the word,
Her voice is skilled, and her spirit, free
Transformed me with her melody:
 
Woke at dawn from the thunderin' storm
Night's wind is cold, Morning Breeze is warm,
Young NightingGale, return, and hear our song
I search the sky, but knew she was gone.
Categories: tearstained, life, parody, song-time, night,
Form:
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