NO COMPASS OR ANCHOR
….At sea
also known as my life, I drift.
I dream of wanting to have a
plan but I don’t. Letting down
people, not quite grasping
opportunities.
For I am a
non-commissioned
ensign of a boat in a storm lost
without its compass
or anchor.
I have passion and the drive
however I am fettered to a
chunk of seaweed.
It smells. It rots.
It becomes a part of me.
Oh the distant sunrise of a new day
is so far on the horizon it may as well be a grain of sand.
Small, minuscule, measly and insignificant.
Just like my remains of a past plan
long ago stranded on a desert island.
At sea also known as my life,
I drift….
Fragile is the pedestal upon which she stands,
like sand through an hourglass,
slipping through cold hands.
It brings great joy as it fills our hearts and fills the air,
when it slips into darkness
it brings great despair.
It bears a gentle touch, leaving fond impressions,
yet can break a heart
when turned into obsessions.
Can make just one kiss the warmest of desire,
Or rip a soul to shreds
and burn it up with fire.
Brings showers of affection that wash tears away,
or drown a heart in sorrow,
while it goes astray.
Wraps a body in passion, languishingly sweet,
then slaps you and pulls the rug
from under your feet.
It can be so beautiful, the sweetest of dreams,
then turn into a nightmare
of hateful dark schemes.
When you say those three words you’re letting down your guard,
followed by good-bye,
after you’ve fallen so hard.
Fragile are the wings upon which a heart takes flight.
Yet, if it's for real...
Love will shine forever bright.
It starts again
It's hard to breath
Lord, I have so many unmet needs
Please help me stand
I don't want to fall
You are God, in control of it all
This empty perception
Leads me into deception
This void in my heart
Breaks me apart
I can't move
I can barely speak
It's your love i desperately seek
The road has been long
And the journeys been hard
I'm finally letting down all of my guards
Take hold of my life
For I can't take much more
Help me persevere
What I was made for
In this silence I feel you near
You are the one who demolishes my fear
In this silence I feel you near
You are the treasure I now hold dear.
By: Sabina Nicole
JUne 12th
You speak from the depths of your soul,
Of all the things you say you can't let go,
But my sweet loving man, I want you to see,
Opening your heart is actually setting you free,
Revealing instead of holding it inside,
Allowing yourself to release all that you hide,
The pressure that pushes your heart away,
That keeps things hidden away that prevents you from change,
Because let's be honest, change means letting down your guard,
And the ego constantly will fight against your heart,
But once you start to open the door.. the most beautiful thing happens, you start to see more,
You give of your heart, you start to relate,
And then others release their bondage because they see your faith,
Love starts to grow where weeds once lived,
Because you were willing to open your heart and give,
You gave a sense of safety where fear once resides
And in doing so God replaced the fear with love inside,
To give of yourself more, to give again...
Against the fears of this world.. love wins in the end
Prone to portray an image to have it all figured out
Externally put together while internally pulled apart
Ready to take off armor and start letting down guard
Reinforcing interior instead of constructing a façade
Possible to flip the script to stop putting on a show
Displaying my mess instead as an opportunity to grow
Never Ending Tears
Tears I shed all day and night
You cannot imagine what I fight,
Tears I shed of letting down someone I love
It just have become more tough.
Tears force me down on my knees
Can you hear me just for one please?
I loss the meaning of life
Just like your words stabbed my heart like a knife.
Inside me wants to scream
Craving for your love is forever my dream,
I have become so obsessed
It's so hard for me to confess.
Tears I shed all day and night
You cannot imagine what I fight.
Coronation
By Michelle Morris
05/05/2023
I wonder how King Charles feels
On the eve of his coronation
Disquiet or fears about
Letting down our nation?
Or perhaps calm and optimism
Joy, peace and happiness?
Confidence and trust
In his coronation being celebrated?
For heavy is the crown
And powerful is the throne
We mark this occasion
The uniting of our home
An historic investiture
A celebration of this moment
Embracing the future plans
To connect us as a country
May God bless our King
And lead him beside still waters
Through every challenge
And every accomplishment
May the crown be lightened
By faith and guidance
May our nation instil pride
In our hearts and minds
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Peaches have blossomed,
My heart has been doomed,
Your smile has my reality zoomed,
Towards your scarlet lips that I groomed.
Chasing your shadows blindly,
Hiding in your dark resignedly,
Glancing at how you smile divinely,
Looking at your dancing hair sublimely.
Following you in the dark,
Closing your ears to have people bark,
Living in your shadow as a worthless rock,
And hearing your syllables as of a lark.
Making my mind numb,
Having my heart splutter to crumb,
Letting down all my hopes with a hum,
You will be the only one to whom I will succumb.
Today is one of the days I feel like smoke.
Choking myself.... bottling every feeling,
not allowing myself to breathe.
Covering everything with white ashes,
turning things monotonous...black and white.
I am not kerosene yet.
I am not kerosene yet...it never corrodes,
it forms impenetrable layers…
not allowing a chance for reversal.
Not letting down a breathe,
excluding from every other thing...
I am not kerosene. Yet.
I am not even wrapped in a warm blanket.
I am cold.
I'm cold.
Sitting in smoking temperatures, I am cold.
Frozen. Numb. Insensitive.
Not wrapped in a warm blanket, I sit cold.
We spent all month planning
The perfect surprise for you
Conspiring with your family and friends
To keep you from getting a clue
Keeping all this from you
Has been actually pretty hard
You always seem so aware of things
Never letting down your guard
With all of this excitement
It is you I wish I could tell.
But I’m so excited to see your face
When “Surprise!” is what we’ll yell
When you see all the streamers
And balloons all over the place
The beaming look I hope to see
Appear upon your face
The time and date have come for you
to walk through the front door
“Surprise!” we yell as loud as we can
Then stunned, you hit the floor.
6/25/2021
When passing by the forest I saw a waterfall
Falling from a great huge brown rock wall
As a fairy land in a hole
Only nature, no bins or stalls
Silvery water falling high above
I wonder from where it comes
With a greeny environment so nice
I feel I'm lost but I can't run
I know I've fallen for it
As I saw a rock to sit
Sat there for hours but still
I don't think my heart is filled
After all I felt so cold
My mind is so relaxed as water drops
I wonder, Is this a silver cloth
Which somebody is letting down
I wish I could stay here forever
As a fairy, in a fairyland as in a show
wearing a silver dress which is so pretty
No beauty can compare as these so many
Maples were first at letting down their leaves they always go first actually.
Sycamore and oak were a day later; both let them go satisfactorily.
Their crispy waiting autumn leaves had been ripe for more than a little while,
But if they did not let maple go first, there would be a frown, not a smile.
Colorful eager leaves cascaded, sprinkled, floated, twisted, danced, and swirled.
They were like exotic Romanian scarf dancers with bound legs unfurled.
The pumpkins and squash sat rolling their jealous uncaring eyes.
They were always in perpetual grumpy moods. No big surprise!
A spider began making her way toward the barn gate.
The knowing farmer tried to stop her, but he was too late.
Her intricate web was already up, as fancy as any lace cloth.
A delicate piece of pure danger for any insect she caught.
From the house wafted delicious pumpkin spice and cinnamon smells
Perky pink nose from leaf pile turned west as by magic spells.
Vole friend warned the mouse, I would not go in there. No way.
The cat had an early lunch, and the mouse learned the hard way.
Written 9-9-2020
Contest Autumn Fall Rhyme Challenge
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
this is the moment after the loss,
the garden as heavy as a standing horse,
as a frozen moon hangs like a buoy at ebb
north is the direction of winter,
a stripped.down world before the crawl
i hear your letting down of the shutters,
your steps tired up the stairs
I feel so disconnected
Yet I am connected all the time
After years of living
A very solitary life
It has just hit me
Somewhere in my heart
I shut out the world
On a face to face
Fear of intimacy
Being hurt before
I locked up my feelings
Giving little of myself
To anyone, anymore
Pushing others away
Never letting down my guard
Forming no bonds
But always needing a friend
I am not thriving
Without human interactions
I get close to people
Only through their words
The poems they write
Weren’t even for me
Those are my relationships
I feel a connection
It has always been enough
That magical feeling I get
When I read something
That feels like it was written
Just for me
Once upon a time there lived an anxious girl,
Family, friends, and photography were her world,
With a heart that has been damaged yet is still made of pure gold,
Willing to give her soul to the world so that no one will ever have to be cold,
Anyone want my soul? SOLD.
I guess you could call me young and bold,
But why would a 21 year old want to sell her soul?
Such a selfless act so that the world wouldn’t have to be cold.
Once upon a time there lived a girl who loved too hard,
She was reluctantly tricked into letting down her guard,
By the time she realized it they were already way too far.
Once upon a time that same girl fell in love,
She’s spent 6 months going on 7 with her beloved,
Thus this is not what the ideal fairy tales are made of.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.