Fracture Poems

Whispers That Fracture Halls

You feel the whispers slither down the long corridor,
each murmur coiling around your thoughts like hungry vines.
They scratch at your calm, sharp as claws unseen,
and fracture your resolve until your heart cannot stay silent.

You sense the walls themselves lean, curious and burdened,
their cracks breathing echoes of every stolen word.
Even the chairs groan beneath an invisible weight,
worn by secrets that slide across the floor like restless ghosts.

You watch as daylight winnows through frosty windows,
afraid to face the truth those whispers carry.
Driven by iron tongues that drip with accusation,
you remain—a flicker of light defying their hush.

You are planted in this room, roots deep in purpose,
a silent sentinel despite the whispers’ might.
And though whispers may rise, their reign will fall to dust—
when your truth, at last, breaks free and echoes with light.

What Your Voice Promised

You folded a shirt until the seam sealed a sentence.
Each crease was a stamp pressed shut — fold, press, set aside.
You stacked them: unmailed pages, tidy and unread.

In the kitchen you didn’t ask for sugar; your finger traced
our small circle for second helpings —
a gesture still carrying its own grammar.

Silence opened a bureau in the hall: drawers labeled
with answers I had kept for you — thin slips of paper
I never dared to send.

I remembered your hum before breakfast:
the soft tuck of paper into an envelope,
a sound that promised delivery.

Last night, on an envelope, you wrote:

I am learning to listen
to what silence keeps.

This morning you spoke one word: Here.
It lay on the table like a stamp no one noticed until now —
already stuck, already sent.
A shirt slipped from the stack into my lap;
I held it, not knowing if I’d been given a gift
or a reminder.

last spring'z fracture

.
                               frolic'n in the 
                         temperate grasslandz
                      'hind my inviolable haunt
                          thuh eager nymph
 
                     whilst mine digits 'pon slip
                        explicate such wander
                             hern learnz me
                      diaphanous white frocks
                           fresh out uv thuh
                              chilly creek
                              cauze think

                              mine think
                                 thinks
                                 'bout
                                  hern
                         naked       'neath
                                peachy
                      blush'n       bloom'n
                          rosette sheath
                           az we speak'd

Fracture

You’re taking a stroll (more like speed walking) down the street, 
And if you’re anything like me, 
You’ll most likely trip on thin air 
And bam, you’ve fractured your leg 
(No, I’n not an anorexic with osteoporosis)

As it is with accidents, so it is with love. 
Just as you may fall and hurt yourself on a run, 
Getting hurt is part of the deal when you sign up for intimacy. 
You’ll hurt people you love, and they’ll hurt you too. 
And before you know it, 
They become a language you are no longer fluent in, but still remember how to read. 
(I’m talking about you Sanskrit)

It doesn’t take being a doctor to know, that wounds take time to heal. 
Broken bones and broken hearts are akin. 
In the meantime, how do you hold on to the hope that you’ll run again after a fractured leg? 
What if you’re left with a permanent limp instead? 
A haunting reminder of only what was, every time you take a step. 

Some call it courage, and others a fool’s venture, 
The cycle of rupture and repair ensues, 
Time begins to work its magic, 
Limp as you may, 
You’ll muster strength to take a stroll once again.

Fracture

we are fractured
in a way that seems
irredeemable.

there's no super glue
to mend
a broken relationship.

no splint, no cast, no medication
to fuse us back together
as we once were.

a fragile china cup
dropped from a great height
and shattering into

a million tiny pieces.
an old shelf,
so weighed down by years of

new information and
changing interests,
that the wood has splintered
and worn apart.

we are fractured
in a way that seems
irredeemable,

but even the most
shattered
damaged
broken

can be repaired

Bone Osteopathy

Ceaseless painful twists and turns,
Dying marrow aches and burns;
Suffer tougher case of bones
Wasting credits in help phones,
Doctors handling of ailment,
Tablets, capsules of treatment,
Patients dumping ornaments,
Seeking Foreign Liniments,
Osteopathy from movements,
Guessing patient's improvements...

Trouble wilder than Fracture,
Lessened focus on structure;
Deeply bothered Osteopath 
Orthopaedic walks soft path;
Body trusted to heal self
Making challenge hurt oneself.

Foreseen Fatal Accident

I feared for The Soon Traveling Fire,
When I saw who was going to drive:
Jack, who did thrice of men's lives deprive,
He himself lucky to be alive;

Now, with a left leg fracture does strive 
And Lord God knows that's no way to thrive

Kept I trembling for the moving five;
If I were among them, bound to dive
When his Porsche wished not one to 
Jack himself Electric wire live...

You enter his car, enters a beehive,
Minutes on end continue to jive:
"Fire you Thunder Ferdinand Jack
Knowledge of safest driving you lack...

A Fracture Raged

Circler and sharp
Around and jagged
Disjoined in thought
Unfocused in point
Spinning out of control
Broken filaments of twine
Laced locked in gears
It is near the end of time
Nails of glass in iron stone
Refracts the light
Broken; flying fragments of night.
Cycles down into a spin
Over and over again
Out of control
A creation of gears in glass
An old broken compass
Nails nine inches long
Nine in all
Wire and springs
Metallic things
A fractured rage
Ice sickled sharp
Cuts neat and clean
Around and jagged
Disjointed thought
Unfocused image
Out of control
Over and over again
Raged the fragments of time

A Prison To My Soul

I tried to reach out, blink in silence and say my words, but there is a lost syllable and a forgiven diction. I buried my art, my passion. 

I tried to tear my skin apart, carve in silence and swim in the blood, but there is a broken knife and a tired hand. I buried my sorrow, my passion. 

i tried to hold your hand, glimpse in your heart and kiss it close, but there is a fragile door and the locks made of dead petals. i buried my love, my passion. 

"I went back to the grave, holding your favourite lilies. I dig slowly beside you and reach the metal clank. I loved you passionately and obsessively. 
The box handle creaks and opens, a canvas with dried blood stains, a half fractured knife and the unsent letters.
a lady walks up to me, handcuffs me back and requests that i slowly move away from the evidence and let go". 

I buried your body, my passion.

We Say We Live

At one with life 
we watched ourselves unfold.
Seeds of thought 
that grew a time between us.
Creating space in which 
to watch our children grow
Floating on the sea 
that is our soul.  
Stirred into 
a separation of life 
We have become 
lost hinterland voices, 
A fracture from the whole. 
Our poet eyes touched 
by winds that carried us 
like leaves, 
Lost to our senses, 
Joined forever
to changing seasons. 
We are loosened 
by each thought 
Until we surrender 
The last leaf’s breaking hold 
Giving our ears back 
to the sounding bark 
Of beech trees calling,
falling into purpose 
And the easy comfort 
of our manufactured lives.

Fracture

Liken to a rift that rips the landscape from under our feet.

Similar to isms or schisms separating the collective,

literally destroying the bond and togetherness that keeps the family as one.

The same unity which should bounds us by blood,

which should give us a sense of being; something so far, so elusive.

All sense of togetherness is all but non-existent leaving a 

desolate and barren landscape, 

rich once as land surrounding river Babylon. 

Only if our hearts and our minds were thus…

Fracture

I've seen beautiful before.
I've seen you on the inside a time or two,
a nice place to live that I guess no one can afford.
  
Today I see this little world from a different light..
(Cliche, I know)
maybe it is just an angle that differs?
Or maybe it is a concussion.
A fracture to the infrastructure of my existence,
my head or my heart?
I don't know which one.
  
Colors and objects standing still only mock me,
like they have more of a right to be here than I do.
And the particles and knots of wood and stone that stretch around my head 
tell me that they know more than I do.
Am I really nothing like they say?
Tip-toeing around,
my movement only complicates things...
I'm fractured.
Please tell your demons to stop mocking me?

388 Life Is But a Fracture In Time

Life is but a fracture in time
A shiver of a grain of sand
Yet we look at it, as gods
Even though we are not gods
Imbecilic, that is what we are
And truly lost
There is no more grace in our existence
Merely an unknown
Was there ever true meaning, it is forever gone
And pain, yes pain is our god
We breed such to our own kind
To cause grief, to control
Life by the hand of power
And we fight to control this shiver 
For the blink of power is absolute
Within ourselves, meaning evades
We become, an illusion to ourselves
We become, gods
Even though we are not gods
And what we have is unknown
Simply because it is no longer remembered
Life is but a second wasted
For all
If you so choose to follow this path
And the fracture dissimilates
Then we become the sand
And without meaning, without peace
There is no love
And without love there can be no life
We become gods
Because we have forgotten how to live.
~
By: Darren J McMurray
    November 20, 2011

Stress Fracture

I
with
trib ute,
con trib ute-
never con tri bute
or dis tri bute con trov ersy

Fracture

Damn these days of separation,
we both react out of desperation.

Where simple logic is thrown aside,
and dog eat dog reeks of self pride.

Trying to survive with no obligations,
loosing my mind knowing my past fixations.

My life had purpose my life had definition,
both of you my responsibility despite my minds condition.

I gave it my all almost always,
despite our differences lingering in the hallways.

Guilt-ridden I am, and don't know how else to feel,
wishing you'd disarm your anger at me so we can heal.

Can you understand that we're both hurting?
Both subjecting our hearts to perverting.

Are you going to hate me? Or let me back in?
The fracture of our hearts, proof of original sin.

• Short Fracture Poems
• Famous Fracture Poems
• Best Fracture Poems
• Read Fracture Poems
• Long Fracture Poems
• Fracture Quotes