Long Bracelet Poems
Long Bracelet Poems. Below are the most popular long Bracelet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bracelet poems by poem length and keyword.
We'd made a dawn start that day, following in his footsteps, as
apparently Jesus used to get up early.
Our group had gathered for a reading, and to pray, along with
fruit and cereals our first staples of the day.
The good Lord had gifted us a painted morning of Coeruleum blue,
and a warm spiced breeze flossed my smile.
I turned and watched the city for a while.
Amidst the pink and beige jigsaw of the old city, the Dome of the rock
had caught the morning rays and was now bragging about it,
shamelessly blinging,
competing with the shouts of Minarets
and Church bells ringing.
Few things can compete with an Israel morning, but you did.
Perched like an Owl on a low wall, cross-legged, your head moved
from side to side, scanning the mount, sharing our glass,
drinking the moment.
You wore white cotton, an arm hung with beads, an evil eye bracelet
and what looked like a Kara, glistening.
Styled by the Gods, with three quarters of a straw hat
wedged in the bricks.
And then I found myself before you,
Lord knows how, and I was trying to remember how my mouth worked.
Your head cocked to one side you watched me for a while
then nodded me a soft hello, and finished with a smile.
Ice broken, we gathered intelligence- you, a 'gap year Guerilla'
on a global reconnaissance , armed with just a shoulder bag and a credit card.
Me, a lapsed Catholic with an empty soul, seeking a childhood faith long discarded.
A shout from the tour guide burst our intimate bubble and I retreated,
backwards, gesturing, as if in the presence of a Shah.
She waved back, almost lost her balance, and a gust of wind would
have placed her gently among the sleeping of the Kidron
if she hadn't grabbed her hat.
And that was that.
I went back to the wall that evening, and the following morning,
I don't know why- she'd be bathed in the rose of Petra by then.
For a short time I was bereft, and stood, fittingly, before the
Basilica of the Agony, and then sat on our wall,
to watch the chosen wake up.
I think my soul woke a little, just then.
For God had left me with a little bit of love.
Unrequited, but worth hanging on to ,
worth building on.
It's been thirty five years, and in those occasional quiet places
I still think of you
For contest 'Love in a far off place', sponsored by Frank Herrera
22nd July 2015
The food was indeed, Greek.
My first Greek Frappe!
A most divine, heavenly treat.
Gods must have created this.
So far beyond good!
In gigantic glasses,with ice chips.
It was as good as an Ouzo on the rocks!
The Festival on Saturday was terribly
overcrowded,
I wanted to leave,before it started.
Fashion in the USA,no kidding has truly
grown retarded!
I like seeing men as men, not dressed as
obese 13 year old boys, sporting baseball
caps.
And the beauty of women?
Tossed away like toys, now women
only dress as boys?
My years are catching up with me,
I must hearedtdly admit.
I wanted to run from an American
culture that is so far from fashion
phenomenally adrift!
Like buffalo we were overcome with
the most fashionably unfit.
I sat with my daughter drinking a
Frappe.
And my only thought was how soon
and how fast we could get away!
I lost my appetite to eat with American
bisons!
With god-ugly toes jutting out of
cheap, plastic flip-flops.
Fat leaping out of obnoxious holes on
jeans of 300 pound women?
Ah, kill me now and let me go to
heaven!
I lost my appetite to eat midst this
hellish plethora of dirty feet.
And hair from hell to top off this
ungodly, human feat.
Then came beautiful girls, their
arms skewed with tattoos so ugly.
My desire to escape hit me much
more than suddenly.
I did have a Pastitsio, that was
yummy!
Just had to keep my eyes off the
volcanic, bulging tummies.
Thank goodness there were not
many children there!
Their mothers, the size of German
tanks would have squashed them
into instant mummies!
I did buy an icon of Christos and
Panayiota holding her child
Both in a carved wooden case.
Now this brought a smile to my
face!
And a turquoise evil-eye bracelet
with crystals, to ward off any
future toe and bison disgrace!
Greek bread we brought to take
home.
I swore up and down to never
leave my home, to roam.
Greek cookies, Kourabiedes,
and Greek bread, seemed to
calm my confused head.
Perhaps, going on a Saturday
was the worst possible choice.
Maybe I can go blindfolded next
year and hush my voice?
Or not go at all?
Still have PTSD, after what I
always previously I experienced
as a yearly treat.
It once was like going to a ball!
September 10, 2029
The attendees were not Greeks.
Form:
Beneath the burdens of countless nights,
In the cursed silence of the soul's waiting room,
I sat, the last one, loneliness carved by the chisel of forgetfulness into the stone of my heart,
Blocking him - he who left without looking back,
Left with longing, a heavy bracelet on a wrist of air.
In vain, I sipped from digital expectations,
Eyes thirsty for a phantom letter in the box of echoes,
The pain of seeing his connection without words for me,
The feeling of being lost with soles burning on carpets of illusions,
His indifference - a shroud that wraps me in night.
I say stop to this waltz drowned in tears - from now on,
The ties buried under the heap of forgetfulness,
What strange hurt to be silent when your whole universe spoke through him,
It wasn't so hard when he pushed me into the chasm of estrangement.
Once the image of him as a hero was sown in my soul, now the shadow of a stranger,
I wonder how small I can be in the mirror of disappointment,
Do I deserve this harsh forgetfulness after I gave my all?
Did success grow like a weed between us, or was it all just a lost game?
He pushed me away - far into the cold, bitter ocean,
Feeling only the foam of his indifference, a wave suffocating my love.
And now his once-adored shadow haunts,
The forgotten stranger walks free, and my heart is filled with cold.
They thought I watched for his newfound fame from beneath heavy lids,
But what I hunted was a love, one before any tally.
His once vibrant call now just an echo,
In my chest, the pyre's flame burns beneath the ash of his 'all is well.'
What a silent battle between what I was and what is expected of me,
A heart-ping-pong between guilts and a promise of the new.
This prosperity that seems to grind down the natural in people,
I turned to ask myself: Was I just a reflection in the mirror of his pride?
Reflecting on love, what it means, I find myself setting boundaries,
Limits enforced by the heart, known only to me,
I deserve respect, attention, and true care,
In love and life, there I will find my sanctuary for my soul.
Worthy of love, happiness, and light,
I will rise from this abyss, embracing the power that is mine.
Amid the echoes of pain, I will carve my path,
Turning wounds into newfound strength day by day, month by month, and year by year.
The Difference
There was once a young little boy. He came from a
very poor family. He went to school dressed very poorly.
His teacher admired him. His grades were the best that
she had seen, but the other kids made fun of him.
That did not bother him. One day things started to change.
his feelings and his problems - he kepted to himself. His
grades started to fall and the teacher notice that. She asked
him what was wrong? He said - my mother is very sick and
there is no hope for her.
This has broken my heart. His grades dropped lower and he
started missing school. One week went by and he didn't show
up. His teacher went to see him and found out that his mother
had died.
His father was drinking heavy and had no time for him. He told
her - I have no one. The teacher said - you have me. Go back to
school and i will helpe you bring up your grades. She gave him a
kiss and a hug. He told her - you remind me of my mother.
Everyday after school, the teacher and him studied hard. Very soon
his grades came up. Then Christmas came. All the kids brought presents
for the teacher. He too brought her two little gifts and very humble told
her - these are for you.
The teacher opened them up. One was a bracelet that was missing some
stones. The other was a bottle of perfume that was half full. All the kids in
the class room laughed, but the teacher put them on and gave him a hug
and told him - thank you. He smile and said - now you smell like my mother.
After that, the teacher kept helping him and he studied very hard. he finished
High school and invited his teacher to his graduation. Then he went off to
college. Again on his graduation he invited his teacher. she went. she just
had to be there. He told her - thank you for making a difference in my life. If
it wasn't for you - I would not be here today.
The last that was heard - the teacher got a last invitation. This time it was
for his Wedding. She was going, she would not miss this for the world. The
invitation said - my Wedding wouldn't be the same if I couldn't have you by
my side. You have made the difference in me...
03/17/2013
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
They sea me without.
I carry a raven upon my shoulder,
A sundial on my back.
The hat I wear is made of ash;
Sunlight is what I lack.
I drag my feet behind me on sandy beaches.
The ball and chain my ankle bracelet bling.
‘If only…’ is a wish, a fantasy; it’s incomplete.
I never made it big.
There is a line of memories behind me in the sand;
It shows the places I have seen.
It is my reason;
The reason I understand;
The reason I understand why you do not understand me.
It curves around, beyond the boulders
And on through rows of palm trees.
This dream I have, I have always carried;
It has always been with me.
I leave my burdens at the door,
But desire is a flame that still burns eternal.
It lights up my face, when I see her face,
But inside I remain forever nocturnal.
I walk in foreign footsteps,
No guide or friend in tow.
I cross the sea of peace, love and empathy forever,
Alone in my sinking boat.
I carry only what I need to make it to the end of the sea.
The cannon ball attached to my feet,
Is expanding more than I would like it to be.
It grows with each passing full moon,
The only time I can be seen.
I hide behind a smile sometimes,
Before it rows away from me.
I have a conversation, with a man who sells only ale;
His face is full of redness and joy!
My face is always pale.
I take a sip of this rotgut and begin to waste away from the inside.
I sometimes hear a hearty tune and sing!
While all the time,
Inside, I die…
The noise is intoxicating;
The words they speak are so enchanting.
Sooner or later it becomes closing time
And I am left walking away from the dancing.
The maiden’s flutter their eyes,
I haven’t shaved in several weeks.
My life is worn away by the sun, my clothes torn asunder.
They flirt and kiss me on the cheek
But there is no more thunder.
They ask if I would like to join them,
On their midnight adventure.
I have no words, I promise to return,
But they never get a real answer.
They cannot readily see the hole in my soul;
Oh what a charmed life I live.
I try to laugh, so tip my hat…
…a pirate’s life for me.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
See them walking around the city in unbridled fashion that makes them feel jittery, soft and loose in their custom-made jumpsuit; they went shopping in high heels shoes wearing perfume that you could smell from a distance.
The threads are woven evenly and the seams at the front are explicit, it makes them feel like saucy peppers spread on top of a sedated platter at the Ritz. Lips painted in bright red colors and body soaked in lavender balm and the aroma oil extracted directly from the maple root saturate their bodies in time for the truth.
The ambience of room with the filtering smell of spring ushered in from the tropical island engulfs the room and increases their appetite.
In seconds their bodies caught fire and saturate their innate desire, it swept quickly through the room leaving a stained passion on the bed, shouting in joy and laughter from the top of their head. They wrapped their bodies in pleasure leaving a diamond bracelet dangling at their feet and smiles that you could not compete.
The tall skinny one's parades down the street in their roll Royce limonene, fricasseeing on the back seat and disrupting the driver's heart beat, while courage stood up on the stand seeking ways to devour the guilty man.
The Jumpsuit has taken over the town and pleasures are floating around, the tightness has disappeared and the distress is laid bare, the people’s mind has loosened and everyone is drinking from the same cup.
I pinch myself to see if I was alive for these images keeps flickering on the screen and it feels like a midnight dream; the fire is real the people are there and the bartender is running up and down the floor and there is a long line standing at the door; everyone was wearing a jumpsuit.
The paradise of hope lies on the brim and the wisdom of man is carried away in his sin and his naked appetite dangle in front of his pride and his lover stood briskly by his side.
The jumpsuit is coming back on stream and everyone is writing for the big screen. You have got to have courage to fulfill your dreams, if you don’t have a jumpsuit go and get one now, the cold is setting in and your fingers will be numb.
As a young woman Lucy had dressed up for work every day putting on her business suit, high heel shoes, and a strand of pearls. But as the
years went by, now all of that had changed, and she lived in a small room in an assisted living facility which is now her home. She has a caregiver who wheels her down for her meals, and other activities, as she can no longer stand.
She had always loved jewelry because it made her feel pretty, like a bright ribbon on the package. It was a token of her womanhood, but now she was forced to leave all of that behind.
Then one day a lady came to her facility with handmade beaded jewelry, and Lucy was wheeled down so she could see all the pretty things. As she noticed the bracelets, she looked longingly at one that reminded her of a similar bracelet she had in her earlier days. Lucy asked the lady “How much is this one please?”, and the lady told her it was only six dollars. Lucy thought for a moment, should she spend the money, but decided that she must have it. She asked the lady if she would stay for just a little longer while she returned to her room to get her money? Lucy said it would not take too long.
The lady was tired and was ready to leave, but seeing how much Lucy had admired the bracelet, she packed up her displays and waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually, Lucy was rolled down by her caregiver with a large jar full of coins, and two worn out one dollar bills sitting on her lap. Lucy’s eyes were bright with anticipation.
The lady knew that Lucy, like most older folks forced to leave their homes behind still had their pride, and just giving it to her would not be the right thing to do. So she took off the tag and told Lucy “You’re in luck! This was just marked down and is now only two dollars.” Lucy proudly gave her the two one dollar bills and put on the bracelet. Her eyes filled with tears of joy as she thanked the jewelry lady and returned to her room. When the jewelry lady was turning to leave her eyes were filled with tears as well.
You see there is not much left when you reach the end of the road, but something as simple as a bracelet can bring joy to two souls.
Sitting in the bright morning skies,
the clouds white and glorious
and she right by my side.
O I hold her dear, soft hand
and she turns her lovely face
in my direction
and my heart melts into an iron pot
made for the evening passionate love
and I kiss her upon those pink lips
that bring such wonders to my
imagination that turns into reality
with a lean forward and the puckering of lips!
Love such a wonderful thing,
a single kiss that fuses two strangers together
and two hearts, which soon become one!
How love is such an adventure,
how love brightens ones' days in their darkest hours.
As we sit, watching the sun rise,
and sun set we venture out into the wilds of stormy realities
and I am not afraid of death;
for I am holding her dear, soft hand.
Her smile brightens such beauty in my soul
and makes a blind man see,
and a cripple walk,
and stops an ocean from destroying a fishing village
and keeps the demons at bay
and watch the spirit walk amaying;
such beauty,
O she brings to me.
Loving her,
with a single kiss,
a single, warm embrace
a rose for each day of the week I am with her,
a jewel for each month I am with her,
and a single innocent and pure child
for every year I am with her.
As I hold gently her dear, soft hand
I am not afraid of the dark secrets that lurk around dark corners
of crowded and bustling evening walkways,
and I hold her close to me,
(I hold her close to my heart)
and I smile,
for happiness is such a beautiful gift
and simple, yet glorious gift wrapped in gold wrapping paper
and tied with a crimson bow
put under the Christmas tree of my own heart
kept for safe keeping there,
and I retire to my bed of roses with her,
gently holding her dear, soft hand!
and we sleep together, like that
and we dream of what is to come in the near, blessed future
of our love together.
Wearing the pearl necklace and that golden bracelet
of such beauty that takes her smile and takes it sky high
to a different place, unlike this one.
We such two lovers in, sharing love,
and I holding her dear, soft hand forever and ever.
How many have experienced this?
First, getting caught in this web
Of feelings so absurd, yet amazing
Then comes the daily battle for freedom
We literally slowly begin to lose ourselves
In this crazy continuous hate of self
We've been best friends seven years
But not once did I care about dressing to impress
So,what now is this that makes me so conscious?
Wanting to wear diamonds and look baked
Yet wishing no one notices but you
What feeling is this that makes me so jealous
Of old friends being by your side?
What is this I can't control?
What is this that pulls me closer
Even when I want to be so far from you?
Oh,what weird feeling is this that envelopes my heart
Making me act ten years younger
Is this what is called insanity?
Daydreams becoming as constant as days changing
Of you and I drowning in eternal happiness
We're vibrant teenagers now, and should I say?
Just the sight of you, takes my breath away
I'm loving you alone from a distance
Afraid to ruin the gemütlich friendship we both share
Very much convinced that I'm the only one with these weird feelings
Taking me to the familiar yet alluring colourful display
Of the many flowers in our secret garden,
My heart had never leaped higher than in the instant we locked hands
Your shaky voice making my name sound like lyrics to a song
Looking at you with great expectations, wishing my dreams would come true
Your gloom expression,a warning to expect very little
Yet my heart bled when you said "good-bye"
Still,what feeling is this that makes pain so comforting
Involuntarily choosing to dwell only in happy memories
Forgiving with no apologies rendered
Holding on to our friendship bracelet with all I had
Wanting to never lose the "forever" we promised each other
Years have passed and I can now call you a man
My ambitions fulfilled,I guess it's time to let go of our memories
Wrongly convinced I've been the only one with the weird feeling
But nature is always ahead of the unsuspecting to bring true lovers together
For my long lost Eddie turned out to be my very own boss
Today was a different day for Deborah and I…let me now review…
We decided to attend a funeral of a person we never knew…
To understand our reasoning…why this is not as crazy as it appears…we must take you back in time a little…back 14 and 1/2 years.
That’s when our granddaughter Ava was born…we made a plan we couldn’t resist…we would purchase a charm bracelet that, one day, she will wear upon her wrist.
The idea is to add a charm each year…representing a time, a place…a scene…we keep the bracelet with us…until she turns sixteen.
We found a jeweler, her name is Kim, we liked the tattoos she had on her arm.
We told her the story of Ava’s bracelet and she said she’d be happy to attach the charm.
The first charm turned out beautifully…Kim’s expertise as a jeweler was quite clear…so we decided to take Ava’s bracelet and new charm back to her each year.
Now every year around the same time…just as we did the year before…we show up with bracelet and charm in hand…in front of Kim at her jewelry store.
We talk about Ava and how quickly our children and grandchildren grow…then Deborah and Kim get together to decide where the charm should go.
In the 14 years we’ve been doing this…as one year into another blends…we ceased to be jeweler and customers…and along the way we became friends.
I find it difficult to explain…as the reasons are often unclear…how a friendship can form with someone we see only once or twice a year…
But isn’t that the thing about friends…the thing that gives friendship its flair…You don’t have to see them often…to know that they are there.
We stopped by to pick up a ring Kim was fixing for Deborah the other day…and her emotions…she was unable to hide…through tears she could not control she told us her only son had died.
We did not know her son…never met him in these 14 years…?but there is something about a friendship…when a friend cries you can feel her tears.
So that’s how we ended up in the back of a church…
sitting in the very last pew….
there to support a friend…
at the funeral…
of a person we never knew.