Long Break off Poems
Long Break off Poems. Below are the most popular long Break off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Break off poems by poem length and keyword.
Do you still hurt and cry
become overwhelmed by a sigh
Are you pining for the past
perhaps life’s going too fast
Want to get swept off your feet
feel your heart skip a beat
Fall in love once more
open another painful door
Do you miss being single
want to meet friends, and mingle
Would you like to be with child
or a teenager going wild
Is death occupying your mind
maybe your lost, or confined
Do you spend all day in bed
are there voices in your head
Tell me please! let’s work it out
I can exorcise your doubt
Just then!! the mirror replies
it’s best, we break off all ties
By
David Kavanagh
01/20/23
The sparkling goodness imprisons an autumn sun
And takes me back to the tender days when I was very young
When I'd help my Mama pluck them off the ground
Tart fallen pippin apples which the warm brisk winds had found
We'd stack them in her apron hammock bed
And when we'd gathered enough, into the house we'd head
Right to the kitchen sink to sort, and wash
And I would stand upon a chair to watch
Then gently laid on a towel, they'd shine till they were gleaming
We'd sit, and chat, she'd peel and we'd talk about every little thing
She would open the Crisco can, and the flour canister
And soon, before my very eyes, the pie dough would appear
She would roll the dough, and let me have a try
She would break off a piece for my miniature pie...
Side by side, she would show me how
Her patience was amazing....as I struggled to follow
The petals of peeled slices, layered out into rows
Sprinkled with her spices, added sugar and butter bows
Popped carefully into a piping oven, not quite an hour or so...
We'd watch them turn a golden brown...filling up my nose
With a cinnamon sweet fragrance, that would make my child's mouth drool
She would finally remove them, hot and gold, slightly letting them cool
Would top their goodness with heaping mounds of vanilla ice cream too!
Ahhh....sweet are the memories of those awesome pie ala modes...
Are you watching me Mom?...on those autumn days when I have shown
My grandchild how to peel, and slice, and roll, and bake her own??....
You have gone to another place
Far away, where I can’t possibly follow
A place of light, laughter and love
Joy that colors the thoughts in warm
Welcoming whispers of hope
This place is lively and dancing with
Compassion, completion, colorful cares
There is the echo of desire and imagination
Gracing prayers with promises
Possibilities and potentials for praise
You are where light shines so bright
Caressing the heart, soul and mind
With music and dreams, soft breaths of
Gentle ideas, flavors of insight
Elation that lifts spirits to the heavens
There is enlightenment thriving, surviving
Swallowing up emotions left behind
By pride and resentment, bitter longings
For a second chance to be alive
In the heart of someone who is now gone
You have gone to this place on your own
Without my accompaniment garnishing your
Imagination with an embrace of love
Compassion growing greater as the day
Silences the who-who-who of night
You are alone there in the hushed
Way that someone is lonely without
The need of someone to attend the funeral
Of emotions and moods, the thoughts
That break off of the grief
You are gone now, absent
From the present moment where I live
Awaiting your hand, your hope
Your happiness to lift my eyes
From my sorrow, worries and angst
Yet, there you are, sitting quietly
Almost humbly, humbled
Ignoring the tv and the stereo and me
Never saying one single word
A low, soft sigh leaks out of you
It cries
“It is never as it seems”
And I cry
Because you are not here
you are gone in a way I can’t grieve
It Only Seems That Way Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
March 18, 2021
~Shooting Stars~
Persied is back, he travels every year they say,
Why does he come to us? I heard a little child say
Persied is a shooting star…the mother simply said
Well why don’t they shoot him then so that he is dead?
Don’t be horrible you don’t shoot things down
At the fair ground - we shot arrows at the clown.
We threw balls at the coconuts
Hung ducks up by buy the neck
What wrong with shooting stars now? Oh what the heck…
What is wrong with you today?
I don’t much like the things you say
Well mum you tell me there’s a shooting star
What if he shoots us where we are?
I really don’t want to get shot
I don’t care if he’s a star or not…
Come here my funny little son
The shooting star is not from a gun.
Every year meteors pass by,
Way up in the earth’s night sky
Bits break off and fall to earth,
They burn so bright…she smiles with mirth.
You’re telling me it’s not a man with a gun
But rocks that fall from near the sun?
I don’t care how bright they shine
What if they hit me from behind?
Don’t worry son they will not hit you
They burn up fast, that’s what they do.
You tell me burning rocks drop from the sky
For heavens sake please tell me why.
It’s bad enough stars shooting now
But burning rocks, now holy cow!!
LET THE CHIPS FALL WHERE THEY MAY
You have come to the altar, for remorse, forgiveness and peace;
Now before you can even open your eyes and get up off your feet;
You must find the inter praise, solemn peace; (solemn peace)
How sweet, such a sweet, sweet release…
Jesus says come my child come unto my bosom and rest;
Bring me your all, your galls of unhappiness, guilt’s and woes;
Remembering my child that you are mine and mines alone;
I will place your cares and troubles on my throne; (on the throne)
Confess your faults and your sacrifice;
Don’t even think twice, wither it being especially cruel meaning full or nice;
Take your hands off your hips, let the chips fall where they may;
And may the chips break off;
For all your burdens I’ve taken, to the cross;
Jesus says, you wear your feelings on your shoulders;
You are standing yet in a blaze of fire but yet you are colder;
Feelings just full of emotions with a chip on your shoulder;
How sweet, such a sweet, sweet release;
Don’t even think twice;
Confess your faults and your sacrifice;
Wither it being especially cruel meaning full or nice;
Take your hands off your hips;
Let the chips fall where they may;
And may the chips break off;
For all your burdens I’ve taken to the cross;
Again I do say take your hands off your hips;
Let the chips fall where they may;
And may the chips break off;
For all your burdens I’ve taken to the cross;
No matter what you or the world may, say
Let the chips fall where they may;
2/8/10
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2010, 2018©
Arranged music by Innocent Nikiema
from Anthology " "Know, I Am Not Innocent"
To be honest, I’ve been dreaming for way too long
There are times when life was like a typical love song
You tear down the walls between us in a blink of an eye
You really helped me out without a doubt, I cannot deny
Swallow your pride…
You have nowhere to hide
You know that you’ve hurt me
Don’t deny it – please don’t, baby
I won’t neglect you – you know that
I need the strength to move on from here
Please promise me not to use me like a doormat
I won’t shed a tear for you, for I shall not fear
You’re my sunshine
I wish you were mine
I don’t mind you here with me
As long as we are truly set free
I can’t explain what you do to me
It makes me feel mighty and shameless as can be
You walked away
You faded into gray
What are you willing to do?
Put Band-Aids on the wounds that are left unhealed? Don’t leave me alone in my solitary field…
What’s it with me and you?
We get along so well, and then we argue again – some conversations should be left concealed…
There’s something wrong with you
At least I’m humble and feeling less blue
Don’t kiss me goodbye just yet
It’s like we’ve barely met…
Constantly, feeling this regret…
I can’t – no I can’t shake it off tonight
I’m trying to break off the horrifying fight
Swallow your pride and be by my side
I’ve tried to enjoy the ride…but I cried…
Set me free from the chains of mere oblivion
My poor head is spinning around – everything’s a blur
You peeled me like a multi-layered onion
The moment you left me behind, my heart sunk under
To hell with them! I never think of them
I forget they exist, until I spot them
Then I get mad!
Oh yes, I loathe them so, as much as I do roaches
I loathe them so much I feel like screaming
I wish I could urinate colonies of them off a log just for kicks
I never cared about their infinite diligence
They don't work for me anyway
And they sure don't work with me
I don't care that they carry off crumbs
That break off my bread. They continually invade
My home, overstaying their welcome.
They invade my pantry to suck honey and sugar
They snake across my countertop when they smell the aroma of spilt coffee
I always spray them dead, but they eventually come back two-fold!
I hate that they're too tiny to see from a distance
I take pleasure in crushing them under my thumb
Crawl far out of sight, you unsightly irritants!
And please, stop coming back for sweets!....
A Rant Poetry Contest/Winner(9th Place)
Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton
Date written and posted: 08/30/2016
I am a dare-dreamer, a mask wearer
a soul bare-r (not always my own); a word-weaver.
I pull thoughts like strings. Strings of cobwebs,
cirrus, frayed dungarees, threadbare memories.
I warp and weft strings of thoughts into poems.
Sometimes I get caught in knots—
I cut myself loose of those naughty strings.
I hold kite strings. Oh and rainbows strings.
They connect my soles to realms of my soul.
At times, I lose sight of kites in the gale.
Was I irresponsible with responsibility for strings?
I think, “thoughts”, should get lost in wind and clouds
to find the eye-of-the-storm—where I rescue
kites and make a poetry page my stage
and arena. I twine strings into heavyweight rope.
Fasten it to four corners of a contest page. I enter,
incognito, with Apollo imagery and Dionysus metaphor;
a masked prize-fighter filled with creative angst.
I grin for wins in poesy masquerade parades.
When I fail, strings break off of my drama mask.
Revealed but unrecognized, am I a fractured rainbow?
My inner balcony critic reprimands:
“sunlight through raindrops must be flawless
to create flawless strings of prismatic color”! Alas,
lack of refraction leaves words white; non-prismatic.
I restring tragedy mask; ego sphere of a versateer.
I create poetry because I love to pluck things;
harp strings and heartstrings…
If I no longer make readers cry, will pen cred be lost?
Don’t think I won’t pluck nightshade petals, fly’s wings
and cello strings to make you feel my tormentia!
I’ll quiver lips of lost-in-love verse. Coax your soul
to sip pale ale of sorrow, as strawberry scent
scalds your skin. I’m not unhappy to gratify your senses.
I loop maverick string, whirl it and throw—
lasso a funhouse mirror; rein it in.
Imagination stilt-dances in looney-glass gaze.
I use muse strings to hang mirrors and ask;
who’s the puppeteer and who’s the puppet—
poet or reader?
Dear Cupid,
I really wish you had a heart (too),
For then I'd sink your arrow in it,
Break one half off and walk away,
Leaving the shard nestling halfway through,
So you know the pain of a broken arrow.
Lovers beware of Cupid's arrows,
One end bears love, the other pain,
He could choose to sink the wrong end in you,
Break it off, fly away, right end in hand,
That's when you'll know living is cruel,
Battling the pain of a broken arrow.
Cupid, sometimes I really ought to hate you,
But mother taught me well to love babies right,
And baby brother Arnold can bear me witness,
For I tried, I tried to always play civil,
Even when infant jealousy peaked and blossomed,
I cuddled him still in my tiny fragile arms,
So I'll love you still with this broken arrow.
But make no mistake, I'll be lying in wait,
Patiently till the day you come of age,
Puberty knocking, and there I'll stand,
Nestling your arrow in my eager hands,
Before you know it I'll aim for your heart,
Sink it in deep with a smug smile on,
Break off the right end and breeze away,
Leaving you with the pain of your broken arrow.
I watched a hatching baby chick
struggling to break free from its shell
that was its home for many days
but now was time to say farewell
Mom had pecked into the shell
a tiny hole to start the process
She did her part dutifully
Now the chick must do the rest
I felt sorry for the struggling chick
and could almost feel the pain
I wanted to break off the shell
thinking it would ease the strain
Then I remembered someone said
The chick must struggle on its own
to start its heart and lungs working
for it to become fully grown
I stood and watched as a miracle
unfolded right in front of me
All by itself the chick broke out
and stood there so cute and furry
There is a lesson here for parents
who are raising a family
Be protective of your children
but do not do it overly
*I actually witnessed this event.
I wrote this after reading Evrod Samuel's
TOO MUCH LOVE CAN KILL
john beharry, Any poem/Any form - for new poets of soup, 12/1/2013