Long Breaking Poems
Long Breaking Poems. Below are the most popular long Breaking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breaking poems by poem length and keyword.
Tonight I stayed at work until 7:00.
It was dark when I locked the front doors.
Winter approaches again, soon the great coat
huddled like a rug around me. The streets
were active as usual, block residents
hanging out front steps. I said goodnight
to Nydian Figueroa, after school counselor.
I bought a beer at the deli on Third Ave.
from the Arab owner. He’s a bit upset about
the bottle bill.
Collecting bottles from small groceries
could be a useful youth employment enterprise.
I walked down Fifth along the park in the dark
drinking my beer and looking at women. I need
a good badly. I tried to decide whether
to go to the movies, a Hopi film Howard recommended,
or just go home, watch tv and light a candle.
Maybe I’d meet someone at the film.
Can I handle
the malady of going home tonight? If I die,
I die alone.
I turned west toward the subway
past the museum, through the park.
I can’t look at the myriad lights in buildings
large enough to hold a small town. It increases
my anxiety and anonymity to the breaking point.
I hoped to be mugged, for the human contact.
Two big guys looked me over, but I lowered
my center of gravity and they passed quietly.
Survival proves I am alive.
The white pines
in this corner of the park hold a cool, earthy air
reminding me of coming winter, that mortality
is restful, of the black bear and swollen river I saw
500 miles away and only one day ago.
Another year has came and has gone
Yet still for your love I continue to long
Like I'm captured in some kind of spell
You are my heaven, but right now I happen to live in my own personal hell
I so wish you would break down, give in and call me
To tell me that what I feel so strong
Is not at all in any way wrong
But that it's the real thing
Instead day and night I sit here holding on to a single, thin, and very fragile string
I'm breaking more all the time
I know I'm definitely crazy and am for surely losing my mind
I can't help it when it come to you there's just something about your way
That leaves me holding on tightly and hanging on to each and every word you say
My sweet pain for you I can never let go it's the price I willingly pay
For walking away so many times keeping inside the chances of what should've been said
The weight of the words have many times brought me to my knees and constantly my heart,
my very soul for you has done nothing but bled
But all this too I can't let go because then you see I get to have you in some way
I get you in those memories between us quite unlike any other
I know you are my soul mate which to me is so much more than just a lover
The wicked rain has fallen from my eyes before
So many countless times, yet still I can't shut tight that door
I'm right back to my velvet laying on the floor
And although I don't get to hold you close for now it would seem
I still get to have you completely in all my dreams
So for now on us we have once again come to close
The love we share in deeple together and went about to do as we choose
Hopefully this will have seen it's way through before too long
Before another year has yet come and gone
I know in your arms is right where I belong
Let's cry for this last goodbye;
these very words we will say
in a heart-breaking whisper,
though we're laughing with fear
for a love that just seems to go away!
Let's cry for this last goodbye
and try not to change our destiny;
let's not say,"It's better this way,
let distance be the cause of our memory!"
The love that once held us together,
so that hate wouldn't tear us apart,
will be gone with the words,
"Forget me darling...I will make
a brand new start!"
Let's cry for this last good bye,
'though kisses and tears lead to nowhere;
real existence is no fantasy,
let's live without fear...
somehow,sometime,somewhere!
It's a lie really to call it a loss anymore
When the truth is I already lost what I was here for
I gave the love more than a few fair shots
Ricochet from each bullet left scars on the heart
The heart shattered so hard it broke the soul
A pain so deep it needs depths to console
It's not the threat that makes me so afraid
I'm more afraid of the weight of the pain
I thought one shouldn't have to make all the sacrifices
Seems the weight gets too heavy when it's all one sided
And yet I still feel bad for not wanting to feel anymore
I don't know if it's breaking my heart more because it's wrong, or just hard
“Even if something is left undone, everyone must take time to sit still and watch the leaves turn.” -Elizabeth Lawrence
Still, soft colors
like blushing roses,
dew kissed, dancing quietly,
in the gentle wind –
rustling like the songbirds,
bursting with a melody,
chortling on the twisting
lights of morning’s reflections,
glowing like the face of love –
still, soft rhythms,
murmuring like the sea’s spray,
soothing away the night,
breaking through the quietest dreams,
flames of sunbeams,
swaying on the sweet, calm air,
erasing the soundless summer
with hesitation of autumn’s prayers,
giggling at the moon’s memory,
excited as the tempest ensnares,
bidding farewell to the comforts of solstice,
resting on the afternoon gusts,
testing the heart of yesterday for hopes,
intuitive grace unfolding.
Still, soft blessings,
defying the doubting,
balancing light and shadows,
blending faith with grace,
ending every fear,
like a dream who believes,
beyond the grief,
there is music that pleads,
pours out light over the soul,
inklings of truth,
beautiful, too magnificent
in hues of rich feelings,
unspoken treasures, words
in private wars,
healing, hoping, helping,
shall I ever know such acceptance?
Still, soft autumn trails,
rising beyond the moments –
quaint, crisp crimson,
vibrant gold and lively tangerine,
warming the spirit
intriguing, yet tender
like a feeling who steals the thoughts,
near dusk, when twilight
lulls the deathlike grasp of autumn’s voice,
manifesting the ache of a lonely
far wiser than her friendly face.
Still, soft moments
sigh, then sing through the spirit,
like the destiny of dreamers,
impressing each other with faded notes,
ballads of yesterday,
promise of unending love,
love that influences hearts with peace,
amazing tranquility.
quiescent as everlasting breaths.
A city made from nothing,
on a lagoon with shallow waters
to keep the invaders away ;
still today those bell chimes ring out
to remind everyone of her victory
at Lapanto...when the ships
brought back the banners
of the defeated enemy!
Venice's splendor is seen everywhere...
even in San Marco's Square,
swarmed with pigeons and visitors,
where the Venetians' genius built
a splendid Basilica reminiscent of their wealth
and power...making Venice: the Queen of the Sea!
Down the Rialto Bridge and the Bridge of Sighs,
gondolas row...carrying visitors and lovers;
the artists seek inspiration for their works,
while their stunned eyes are delighted by beauty,
which pulls them out of virtual reality!
Intrigue and mystic fascinated
many a devoted soul,
and the entire city echoed
with delirious voices breaking
the silence of midnight;
violins and lutes played in palaces
and in gondolas on the Grand Canal...
did anyone stare at the brilliant stars?
A masquerade was an invitation to love,
all disguised themselves behind a mask;
many were seduced by passions with haste...
as Venice revelled in their merry-making,
celebrating a glory that knew no ending;
and when it declined, it was deserted by all!
Venice's splendor seems eternal,
not diminishing through ages;
her fame ever-increasing and each stone
can tell a different story of people
who partook of her greatness,
leaving a legacy we regard as our own...
An unsavory memory lurks
haunting her recessed mind
breaking out in a variety of day dreams
and one nightmare when she was eight
pushed back quickly
by society and socialization and religion
and her mother
Quiescent spirit lady with a white bustle
living in the far corner of her grandmother’s dilapidated shed
the one she was not supposed to be in anyway
unhappy, lost, bereft, holding out her hands
begging for some help
but she was only eight and frightened.
She ran with her heart beating so hard
she thought it might burst.
Guilt wafted in and out of her life for years afterwards.
She knew that her soul wanted to help the spirit lady.
Fear had kept her out of this shed for the past thirty-one years.
She opened the creaky door, seeing nothing but cobwebs
until her eyes got used to the dark.
I knew you would return for me, the lady said.
This time she walked right to her,
armed with knowledge that she could
steer her to Christ’s light.
Written 9-25-2015
Contest: Haunted
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Where are you now? Can you still hear,
Or am I crying to the air?
Do you see me breaking down,
Or are you gone without a sound?
Did you fight when darkness came?
Did you whisper out my name?
Did you know the end was near,
Or did it strike without a fear?
And God I rage, I beg, I plead,
Why take the ones we love, we need?
Why give us bonds too strong to sever,
Then rip them out, gone forever?
How can I live when you’re not here?
How can the world spin year by year?
How can the sun still dare to rise,
While I am drowning in goodbyes?
I blame myself I always will.
I should have stayed, been stronger still.
I should have answered, should have known,
Should not have left you there alone.
What if I called, what if I stayed,
What if I fought, what if I prayed?
Would you be here, would you survive,
Would love have kept you still alive?
They say you’re in a “better place,”
But I would trade all heaven’s grace.
What is “better” if you’re gone?
What is right in moving on?
Memories fade I fear they will,
Your laugh, your voice, your gentle will.
So I pretend you’re still alive,
Because the truth won’t let me survive.
I push it back, I turn away,
I hide the grief, I will not say.
For if I face that you are gone,
I’ll lose myself, I can’t go on.
Yet grief does not release its hold,
It claws, it burns, it makes me cold.
It lives inside, a wound, a scar,
A proof of love for who you are.
And maybe that’s the cruelest truth:
To love so deep, to lose in youth.
To carry silence, wear the scar,
To live half-dead for who you are.
His exuberance overwhelmed all that met him.
He was joyful every minute of every day He loved life and everything that beset him.
The missing rabbit that the neighbors bought their daughter for her birthday, was found snuggling with him in his kennel keeping the bitter winter winds away.
This was one yellow Labrador that was simply adored by all especially me. His name of course was Happy.
Cancer overcame our beautiful dog when he was nearly thirteen human years old. Eventually he began to suffer and the drugs didn’t seem to take hold. For the first time in his happy life his eyes dimmed, and his tail stopped wagging. It was time to stop his suffering, to stop the pain from nagging.
My son rushed out and bought him a double whopper burger and a chocolate chip muffin. Dear Happy lifted his head and munched his way through the burger. My son breaking it in pieces for him, while the vet waited, holding the syringe. This made me cringe.
Marc went to give him the muffin, I exclaimed “No, chocolate is bad for him!”
The looks from my family made me realize that I was dim, and that Chocolate chips couldn’t hurt our Happy ever again. He ate it and crossed the rainbow bridge to his new address in Puppy Heaven. Still love him after all these years – still shed tears.
But that’s not what this narrative is about.
Leaving the Doctor’s rooms, trying to keep my wheelchair straight, guiding it slowly to lessen my pain, I was going home again. No more hospitals. The diagnosis wasn’t really a surprise, and when it happens I want to be at home. My happy thought, was that I could now eat all the chocolate chip muffins I want to!
The End
( Well no, it’s not quite the end, I still have time for a poem or two and a few muffins yet. So my spirit is soaring. I also have some messages to send.) X
Non Fiction.
Author Dana Redricks
July 9, 2023
Our tears are meant to cleanse the soul, to wash away the burdens that take their toll. In their gentle stream, we find release, a solace for the heart, a moment of peace.
Never be ashamed to let them flow, for tears have a purpose, as we come to know. They carry our sorrows, our deepest pain, and in their release, we find strength to regain.
Yeshua, in His love, will ease our fears, His compassion wiping away our tears. In His embrace, we find solace and grace, a refuge where our weary hearts find their place.
So let the tears fall, like gentle rain, cleansing the spirit, healing the soul. For through our vulnerability, we find new light, a pathway to freedom, breaking through the night.
Do not hold back, let the tears spill, for they have power, to heal and fulfill. For in each tear, a story unfolds, a testament to the strength that the soul holds.
So, fear not the tears that trickle down your cheek,
They bring healing and courage when you feel weak. Let them flow, let your burdens be released, and in Yeshua's embrace, find eternal peace.