Long Breathes Poems
Long Breathes Poems. Below are the most popular long Breathes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breathes poems by poem length and keyword.
The sand is made of pulverized clocks,
ticking softly beneath bare feet,
while turquoise waves—liquid amethysts—
unfold in slow, quiet sheets.
The horizon is a zipper, undoing the sky,
releasing emerald birds that fly backward.
A lighthouse stands on one leg, painting the fog
with brushes made of jellyfish foam.
Driftwood sculptures walk toward the tide,
humming tunes that have no name.
Glass bottles drift, filled with tomorrow,
and their corks sealed with twilight.
I sit on a chair built of frozen music,
watching the sunset swallow itself.
The moon, a pale mirror, drops from the deep,
and the ocean, in its immense, surreal sleep,
breathes in—and the beach becomes stars.
She came into this world without asking,
Not for love, but to fit the mold society built for her—
To carry expectations she never chose.
Before she knew “want,”
Before she understood touch,
She was a flower pressed between the hands of the world,
Measured by demands she never agreed to.
She grew not with love,
But with duty—
Holding responsibility before she learned to stand,
Carrying her family, her world,
On shoulders too small to bear such weight.
She became everyone’s anchor,
Living many lives for many people,
Yet never one for herself.
Her mind twisted with unspoken thoughts,
Starved not for food alone,
But for care—
For a touch meant only for her,
For recognition that she is more than a giver,
More than a vessel of sacrifice.
She learned to achieve silently,
To dream in secret,
So no one would feel disappointed—
Even as her own heart stayed hidden.
She bore loss quietly,
Kept her life small
Even while the world around her overflowed
With the things she earned.
She did this to keep others from hurting,
To keep love balanced on fragile scales.
Yet still—
Through exhaustion,
Through the ache of being first,
Through the weight of being unseen—
She endures.
She heals herself.
She breathes.
She survives.
A quiet, steadfast testament
To a soul that gives everything
And asks nothing—
Except the small, sacred grace
To simply be.
When Thor struck his hammer
upon the flat ground on Earth
it was the pieces withstood the blow we named rock,
constructs we came to know as the mountains.
Even before that time
I crossed my fingers
wished I'd one day experience
...you.
I knew you before heavenly purity grew wings
before angels blessed hearts
invoking what we now know as love for our brethren .
I held you in the sphere of my understanding
as the lover I'd never meet but always carry
in the most cherished of my thoughts.
When Zeus handed me his quill and inkwell I knew
I would only use his gift for my inspired notes to you.
Though I was not blessed a poets words
like Robert Browning
he who took Elizabeth Barrett into his heart from the first time he read her
so I did with you.
Only laid blood on parchment
to declare the love you inspired in me.
Like a schoolboy's first kiss
was the day my eyes embraced the body of your work.
Before the first pine broke the ground, the first lark sang,
the first orchards rare enchanted the rainforests.
Before the first chameleon blended
into the multicoloured break of dawn.
Before infinite rows of wheat invitingly waved from the fields to greet Hera.
Before liquid rose to separate into
creeks, swamps, rivers, lakes with fish of all kinds
wasn't it me who rode the first seahorse just to make you smile.
Anything, all...
possible
with the swirl of a letter
the turn of a word.
I found an immense love tracking the shores of your fine poetry
always a chill that ran up my back.
No one.
No one!
Only you.
Your fine talent,
gifted,
honed
perfected...flaws and all...
moulds
sculpts,
breathes life into ordinary words,
creates poetry
owns me.
September 26 2016 MY
Gentle like the tender touch
Of laughter, joy, hope
Her eyes are soft, so kind
Like a mellow whisper of calm
Serene and flowing with warmth
She is big, a giant of a girl…
Large boned and silent
Quiet as the night, just before
The raging of a summer storm
Pelting rain and winds
Bursting across the hills
Roaring gales and downpours
She is wise, a little reluctant
Hesitating, just on the verge of
Bellowing, she falters, listening
To the nuzzling of her calf
Her little youngster, so affectionate
Just a whimper and his mother
Comes running, protecting, defending
Her motherly instinct, intensive
Gentle like the lemony sunshine
Stirring spirits to listen, to hear
The echo of glorious rainbows, birdsong
Coloring the skies in reflections of peace
Her coat is burnt orange, like a sunset
And she breathes life through nostrils
Inhaling and exhaling the miracles
Stirred to life in the dust of a barn
Where her tenderness is rewarded
With grain, corn and fodder, her gift
For gracing our hearts with such quiet charm
Spring sweetly breathes life
to tender buds on trees,
and from earth’s fertile womb,
seedlings’ small heads emerge
peeking out from the soil.
Climbing upward
toward the sun that sustains them,
and nourished too by rain,
they finally reveal
their lovely blossomed faces
to the world.
Winter’s melancholy has fled
and has been replaced by
the cheerful appearance of
blooms that dance with the breeze
and flutter on bushes and ornamental trees.
I dance too for the joy of flowers
whose fragrance welcomes
darling hummingbirds and butterflies
into my garden.
Oh, joy for the beauty of whimsical snapdragons,
multi-colored tulips, romantic gardenias,
pretty peonies in pink, white and red,
the purple irises, scented primrose
and long yellow branches of forsythia.
Oh, for the enchanting joy of
perfumed sprigs of lilac
and my roses each day greeting me
with their every hue.
My muse reawakens as
my heart and soul swell
with gladness
in the spring.
March 8, 2022
For the Spring Showers Or Spring Flowers Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
March 25, 2022 for A Brian Strand 1096 Poetry Contest
A Ghost of a Chance
Life is set up from start
A dogs life
Pops take me out for a drive
She begged
But it was too far just for16 dollars
But every turn of the beaten road makes life more truthful Down and outs waiting for you since birth
fortune is blind to wishes and wants
living to the end is just not possible
To answer a question are you comfortable
Soldiers left killers writes
The book of ghosts
Ill take an hour on the cross to free humanity forever
Somethings have no guarantees
Who is taken i
s talking to you
By force
Who can trap anyone who isn't looking fierce
Or being the robot of doom or dogmas friend
Sense populous reclaiming scant scratch and bite abandoned dreams remain
Identified as those to bomb
To lose or never have had
Humanity
We can't win without a voice
It'll be the end of my days
So who will breathe for tomorrow
To and from an end and a beginning
To those just entered
A World without sleep
Throw back identities
Who now breathes the stagnant air of a distracted youth
Swallowing silently
A quick portray
A fools way
To be left on the streets
Bleeding the blood of betrayed
Of getting the boot out of Hollywood
A follow of Cristian sneezing lemon dust
Chance of love after smile
Chance of a thrill
After a growl
No Kings
Just amens
A ghost in the house
Spirits run
Chased by demons screems break through
Waves of oceans
You cant wait to fall asleep to share a spot with those who made you strong
Make them yours
Don't kid yourself even if your shoes are stuck in limbo waiting for the roll
of a criticàlly impaired
pair of dice
New Year Special
Today, the clock knows how to stay,
not push us on, not pull away.
It pauses time, then lets us see
that arrival matters more than speed.
The year unfolds — a quiet door,
no loud demands, no need for more.
Just open space, a moment free,
a breath that says: come in, be.
We enter holding what remained —
the truths we learned through joy and pain.
Dreams a little worn, yet bright,
and hope that lived through every night.
This is no vow to never fall,
no claim we’ve mastered life at all.
It’s permission, soft but true,
to start again the way we choose.
With gentler hands, with braver hearts,
we learn that strength is how one starts.
The past loosens what it held tight,
the future waits — no need to fight.
And in this moment, calm and clear,
we step ahead into the year.
Not fully ready, not complete
just breathing still, and choosing feet.
You open your mouth
And my breath comes out
My heart spilled on your chest
I know what happens next
Fingers intertwine
I’ll let you blur the line
We’ve synced our hand watches, our breathes,
Our time and upward motions
Our souls whisper and kiss
Linguistics meet their stand in
Looks and tells, a longing, dripping cheeks
A hum, a nod, a wink to God
Publicly known words replaced with privately-owned sounds
So as not to water down
What’s already been found
‘For the message is foolishness to those who are perishing’
All valuable things are done in secret
Secret tongues, intertwine
I’ll let you blur the line
We’re getting by,
year by moment
Unblinded and defiant, I asked you to carve your name into my skin
I’m under the covers, inside your chest
Blood pumps and beats,
Whispering vows breath-soft in morse code
You’re always running a beat behind mine
Everything has a beginning,
everything has an end,
still I don’t know why
I choose to stay here,
my dear friend.
Too afraid to die,
too afraid to live,
moving along
a path I cannot see.
Under Saturn’s fading light,
my Titan, listen.
I stay silent,
but my expression screams.
Maybe I know nothing at all,
only pretending I do.
Forgive me, forget me,
for every lie I held onto.
I thought you could be someone
just like me.
Maybe that was wrong.
Maybe I was foolish,
blind enough
to never regret it.
But I’m still here,
right where I began,
all I’ve found
is who I never was.
Feeling tired,
feeling numb,
wishing for a place
that lets me rest.
A land of fairytales,
a land of loving lies,
where imagination breathes,
where hope survives.
Maybe it’s the truth,
maybe it’s not.
Maybe the world we’re living in
was never real at all.
I know words can’t reach you,
but I know you can feel.
In a world full of lies,
where some truths still breathe.
Don’t listen to my voice,
just follow what you feel.
Maybe then you’ll notice
the blindness you repeat.
I stumbled, I broke down,
I learned by failing slow.
I tried to fall apart,
so you wouldn’t have to go.
Maybe I couldn’t make it,
maybe I was weak,
but if you keep on moving,
maybe you’ll win,
maybe you’ll win.
I remember:
Our red dodge with a hood
Where we would camp in back
With a box of cereal - Cheerios
My little arm all the way'n
Eating little round o's
With small chubby fingers
The truck reminiscent
of my childhood in the '80s
Parked in a camping spot
With all our stuff in tow
Stretching our legs outside
Deep breathes in, deep breathes out
Of the lovely countr' air
A small walk to the creek
Where we went through the dam
Down around to the falls
In our bags a small meal
tuna fish 'n' chips with dip
And a jug of Kool-aid
We would laugh we would swim
The sun was happy to
Gleefully shine in our eyes
In the summers of '80