Long Come apart Poems
Long Come apart Poems. Below are the most popular long Come apart by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Come apart poems by poem length and keyword.
Can you help me find my dreams
Will you be there when I come apart at the seems
Can you look beyond it all to see what’s inside
Will you be there when worlds collide
Can you fill my heart when it is empty
Will you forever be a friend to me
Can you shelter me from the rain
Will you be there through my agony and pain
Can you help me to decide
Will you show me honor and pride
Can you fight along with me bravely
Will you forever be a friend to me
Can you chase my fears away
Will you be there at my dying day
Can you wipe my teary eye
Will you console me when I cry
Can you set my soul free
Will you forever be a friend to me
the reader of the stars devours the past and redresses the future
sees in crystal balls the flames at stake kindled by misperception
as slumber is kind for once I encounter the woman of my dreams
a princess no doubt a Cinderella who never wished for any shoes
they called her a witch ignoring that the gypsy had appropriated
that sinking feeling when drowned in a pond of pain and bigotry
she glows in the dark but her broomstick does not cease to the fire
propels a few Tarot cards as if to prove her guilt and kind wisdom
like a ghost of knowledge she swings on a pendulum above ashes
rises like Phoenix above mocking spectators and clutches the curtain
not a single thread of benevolence has come apart at what seems
like defeat yet carries resilience and truth for giving up is for losers
20th August 2020
“Not many fake things are so nice for me, but I sure love an artificial tree.” quote by poem's author
We had to ditch last year our Christmas tree.
Worn out it was! We needed something new.
Big after-Christmas sales we went to see,
and huge discounts were more than just a few.
We saw a tree – not too small or too tall -
a beautiful white tree that was pre-lit.
There were no boxed ones left of it at all.
I liked it best, so “as is” we bought it.
We had to place it carefully inside
the back of hubbie’s truck, which worked okay.
In three parts it could come apart to hide
it till the time we’d put it on display.
I love the softness of its lights. It seems
like candy land! We did not know about
the way its lights give different types of beams.
We put it up and figured that all out.
Its colored lights can have a steady glow,
or they can stay one certain color, or
they can flash or brightly beam, then fade low.
I could not wait to get it on our floor!
Fun ornaments and garlands go around
that tree, which makes it a joy to look at.
Our two cute kitties very quickly found
our tree but don’t attack it. I’m glad for that!
There’s a glitch in the matrix
A system breakdown
You keep me there
Wanderin around
Blinded by the shadows
Runnin through the pain
Dancin in the waves
Drownin in the breeze
In through the out door
Out through the in
Baby we’ve gone crazy
All over again
When the skies darkest
Who will be there
when you’ve lost your dreams
Who will be there
when you come apart at the seams
Dancin in the waves
Drownin in the breeze
In through the out door
Out through the in
Baby we’ve gone crazy all over again
The streets are all empty
The crowds have gone away
Left you abandoned
No need to say
Pick me up hold me down
There’s no guarantees
There’s no inbetweens
There’s no inbetweens
There are no inbetweens
what do I have to do to win your heart?,
we share jokes and laughter on the fly.
I’ve tried so hard, yet we’re apart,
my hope is fading, as years go by.
As kids I pushed your swing at school,
but as I held your hand, you played it cool.
I watch you cry and come apart,
as you have felt the sting of life,
as you have now a wounded heart,
instead of being someone’s wife.
what can one say, where can I start,
to make you see the love I feel,
I’ve done all I could to play the part,
instead of standing, now I kneel.
as actors, we have never read the script,
the one that held the happy ending,
the story line was shattered, it was ripped,
that we were lovers, was but pretending.
and when I’m gone, when life is over,
when all my diary has been read,
you’ll know I was the man who loved you,
what can you say, when I’ll be dead.
.
the last light
slips along the seam
where fabric remembers
every pull
every strain—
a narrow glint
catching
the single stitch
that kept
the whole
from opening
into ruin
not heroic
only persistent
a small
insistence
of thread
holding
what wanted
to come apart
I watch
how dusk
withdraws
from the garment’s edge
leaving behind
a faint
amber residue
of labor
no one noticed
the stitch
is nothing
remarkable—
a mismatched
length of cotton
pulled through
hurriedly
years ago
yet last light
pauses
on that place
as if naming
the fracture
that became
the strongest
part
perhaps we are not meant
to stay seamless—
only
luminous
where we were
once torn
each mend
a narrow window
through which
something
unutterable
enters
I gather
no answers
only the scattered
weather
of who I was—
a thread
of silence
a little ash
of longing
a faint
afterglow
of voices
I can no longer
hold
yet beyond
obvious
sorrow
a sympathetic
spirit
sways
in the fabric—
not hope
exactly
but ancient
instinct
of a stitch
that has outlived
its garment
and yet
keeps binding
through
darkness
I woke
with dust
of old selves
still silvering
my lungs—
fine threads
where my heart
had once
fastened
its small
lantern
I opened
my eyes—
nothing
miraculous
only pale
machinery
of morning
turning
& inside me
a thread
catching
on that same
sentence—
the one
that held
everything
together
the underworld rumbles and summons
beckoning in groveled whispers
with undertones of shady pretenses
haunted by gods and demons
who brazenly wave their book of souls
tormentors do the dirty work in afterlife
meanwhile here kings and rulers
wealth in pocket pauper in heart
build their towers to climb to heaven
every last of these towers of babylon
will one day come apart at the seams
they’ll disintegrate and fall to dust
greed and hate and malice
feed self-fulfilling prophecies
of wars designed to never end
man’s self-destruction on auto-pilot
will one day rise their corpses from fetid ashes
and lead their crusade into eternal damnation
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Dalliance With The Winter Birch
Crystal glances at the brilliant blue
Marching up there with blinding sun soaked sky
Clouds stream by
They come apart in seams of wonder
As the day begins to shine
Work waits there on the farm
A dalliance with winter wind and trees begin
White limbs swing limp, spring back again on birches
Firm roots, frozen earth, hold the hard wood down
I climb the highest branches there
At 8:00 am farm chores start once again
They can wait for just a while longer
While all of nature sinks into the skin
As I figure out how to return
Somehow I got lost above the trees
Tangled in the maze of branches
Caught, never found, while climbing birches
Never quite figured out
Which way was up or down
It’s been a hard day but there’s no laws to say
That I can’t settle down with a gin
Late night R & R with an hour of TV
And then I will maybe turn in
The gin… that was easy, just spin that screw cap
Then tip up the bottle and pour
But what freaking demon has screwed G & T
It never was this hard before
This flaming recycling nonsense is mad
With screw caps that won’t separate
The cap and the bottle do not come apart
And boy does it make me irate
A one handed action to top up my glass
To sparkle and fizz as I sip
But that is no more because some lunatic
Decided he’d give me some gyp
Brute force is required to crack that first seal
But the cap simply won’t unattach
It sits in the flow and it will not let go
As it acts like a half open hatch
So now I need one hand to angle the bottle
Another to hold back the cap
It’s driving me nuts, I just want to relax
So much for this net zero crap
My bottle of tonic is sat in the cooler
But I settle down in my seat
The medics are worried about a big rise
In folk drinking alcohol neat.
Survival of the fittest
A bird on a branch, reflecting on existence;
Realizing everything it thought it knew about mortality,
Was really just how to show its own ignorance.
No possibility of death as it rides upon the wind so free;
Flying so high above the land,
That nothing could bring this day to an end
And there is still so much more to see.
An idea of creation so profound that it seemed the only truth,
But all it knew has come apart
And it has lost faith in all that which it views.
Everything has changed in the blink of an eye
And a stitch in time is not saving; it is slipping and sliding,
As the bird falls down from way up on high.
The friend it saw only yesterday has disappeared from its mind’s eye.
Gone in a second of time, its wings no longer flap
And the rotting flesh is more or less a piece of magpie pie.
Gone from its sight; no conversation in the morning light.
No dawn chorus, no warning; no more soaring.
Just a ghost of a life that has passed it by.
Eaten alive by the cat in the night;
The bird that no longer sings is no longer spotted flying high.
For that is that; it has no goodbyes,
So the bird rises from its branch and flies,
Up into in the great blue sky.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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