Long Eggshells Poems
Long Eggshells Poems. Below are the most popular long Eggshells by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Eggshells poems by poem length and keyword.
I Am a Bluebird
Two little bluebirds hatched one morn
Out of the eggshells their tiny beaks had torn
The little boy grew and became very proud
“Look at my bright blue feathers,” he chirped so loud
The little girl's feathers were rather pale
Gray in color with a light blue tail
Where he was cocky, she was shy
“My feathers are not as brilliant,” she wondered why
Then one day, several bluebirds landed on her tree
She realized, “Oh my goodness, they are courting me”
The next thing she knew, four eggs in a nest
“Beauty isn't everything, my babies are the best”
She worked very hard and showed her babies love
As she and her mate taught them to fly in the sky above
As life went on, her purpose became clear to see
Hard work, happiness, love, this bluebird is me
The description of the bluebird was modesty, unassuming, confidence and happiness transformation
Do you ever feel like you are falling, falling, falling?
And you don’t know what tomorrow brings,
Yet you still thank God for another day
For the whisper of the wind and the bird that sings
Just the little things
Being grateful just to have life
Remembering you was his child
Before you became that husband, wife ,sister, brother ,father, mother
We should put God below no other
Because people will disappoint you and let you down
They will speak against you when you’re not around
But the God I serve will never betray me and he’s always down
To get close to him, my nose never has to be brown
Even when my eyes couldn’t see
He’s led my hands so many times
Never in my life have I felt so free I feel so light, I could walk on eggshells
They will never crack
It’s a feeling of exhilaration the day he took those monkeys off my back
So, to you my brothers and sisters
Who feel like they are falling, falling, and falling
Don’t let your heart be troubled
Because you’ll never hit the floor
So every time God catches you
You should love him more and more and more....
"Umbrellas"
Tears fall heavy on their poetry umbrellas they use as shields,
underneath the heart sits like a bucket empty of sunlight,
it attempts to reassure them some storms are meant to be -
the purpose to uproot them like dandelions
scattered to all corners of strange worlds, pages and stories read like maps,
there, in those places, the seeds fall and are planted;
they take to growth, in the soil, or not;
sometimes the Sun gets in
sometimes the eyes in hidden faces
are sometimes seen uplifting;
the mind hijacked,
blindfolded, gagged and ignored
is bestilled - again -
the heart stands before it,
sometimes it speaks for all
that has gone on before;
in that place, sometimes
the Sun gets in, it burns,
it leaves its imprint
Candide Diderot. ‘25
Matthew 18:3 (NIV)
actually....the entire chapter. Matthew 18 (NIV).
...how all that applies to the feelings and the survival mechanism of children (and children turned adult) child s-a survivors - will be taken on, or disgarded, in their own unique way. Many child s-a survivors would not be high in the 'forgiveness' factor. Respect and trust is walking a thin line, after walking on eggshells.
I miss my mom.
I don’t remember much about her,
It’s been over a decade and a half since
I last saw her,
Before she faded into
The person she’s become now.
But I remember when she was kind,
I remember when she loved us,
I miss my mom.
I miss swingset rides,
Her pushing me,
Higher and higher,
Into the sky.
Snapshots, memories,
A blink of her smile,
I miss swingset rides,
I miss when she loved me back.
I miss my mom.
I lost a parent,
Without losing a parent,
She’s alive,
She’s well,
But she is not
My mom
Anymore.
I watch as she mumbles to herself,
Lost,
Alone and angry,
Rageful.
She wasn’t always like this.
But I no longer remember her before.
I miss my mom.
I miss warmth,
Compassion.
Traits she once possessed
According to her family and friends,
But that now remain dormant,
In a volcano,
Ready to explode
At any given moment.
I miss feeling like a kid,
Not walking on eggshells.
Security,
Safety,
Not standing outside home and
Hesitating to open the door,
Scared of the jungle
I’d step into.
I miss my mom.
I wanted her back,
For so long,
I waited,
And waited,
And waited,
For her sickness to dissolve,
And it did,
But not before taking her with it,
Pixelating her into hatred
And dissipating her spirit
Into bitterness.
I miss my mom,
But I do not want her back.
I do not want to forgive her,
And act like it’s all fine, that all is well again,
That cycle has broken me down to bits,
And I refuse to be a part of it again.
So Mom, I love you,
But I accept now,
That we can never be together,
Not the way a family is, not ever.
Because your sickness consumes you,
And though that’s not your fault,
You said your love was unconditional,
Yet it still came to a halt.
I don’t want that for my kids, Mom.
I love you, and I miss you, but you will never meet my children.
Because though you are my mother, you’re not the mom I miss.
You deserve connections that don't require you to walk on fragile eggshells to reveal your heart,
where words flow freely like a mountain river, carrying truth and simplicity within them,
without needing to bend your soul into unfamiliar shapes just to protect egos,
and your inner peace to be an inviolable sanctuary, a place where your true self breathes freely.
You deserve connections where peace isn't sacrificed on the altar of unspoken expectations,
where dialogue is a dance of sincerity and mutual respect, without masks.
In this universe of open souls, you are a blossoming tree on the plain of freedom,
with roots deeply anchored in the soil of self-assurance, growing towards clear skies.
You deserve connections that don't ask you to distance yourself from your essence, to break from your core,
but which embrace you as you are, a mosaic of dreams, thoughts, and pure emotions,
where each encounter is a celebration of authenticity and self-discovery,
a place where souls meet in dances of light and shadows, sincere and free.
In this world of true connections, you are an explorer of the heart's depths,
traveling on oceans of understanding and compassion, not losing yourself, but rediscovering.
You deserve connections that fulfill you, that reflect you like a clear and pristine mirror,
where each conversation is a bridge of light between hearts, without distances or walls.
Between these verses flows a river of secret desires, a song of the liberated soul,
and in this uninterrupted flow of thoughts and emotions, you rediscover yourself, you find yourself anew.
I never wanted a man
Whose words are heavy and slurred,
Drowned in the alcohol
He drinks without a word.
I had high hopes back then—
No prince or knight in gold,
Just a patient, gentle hand
For my own to hold.
A compassionate man, a loving fool,
A doting father to our own.
Yet cruel fates have left me here,
Sitting in this house, alone.
My kids wreak havoc in the house,
My daughter playing doctor now,
My son, her patient on the floor—
Safe from the storm, somehow.
Unaware that all they have is play,
Beside a tilting dollhouse ledge,
A fragile home of plastic walls
Teetering right upon the edge.
Yet through the grief, a quiet peace:
Thank god they only know of joy.
Even though I know too well,
It’s a peace he will destroy.
My eyes keep darting to the door,
Waiting for his heavy tread,
The kids call 'Father' now,
The man to whom I am wed.
Fate is a cruel, binding thing;
It locked me in with no escape.
No wings to fly, no ground to hold,
No independent path to shape.
But just when darkness settled in,
And I had thought I'd had enough,
Life brought me two small, shining stars,
Woven from a gentler stuff.
The front door clicks, and there he stands.
My eldest looks up from her play,
Already fluent in his steps,
Reading the shadows of the day.
Her small eyes dart to meet his face,
Gauging the shifting, heavy air—
Will he be the loving father now?
Or the monster waiting there?
At first it was walking on rose petals.
Your words bloomed flowers in my heart, and I was reduced to ash every time I felt your touch.
Soon those petals turned into broken eggshells,
I never spoke up, but what’s a voice to destroy love?
I began to envy the stars so I could move fast enough to avoid the fact that everything hurt sometimes.
Soon enough I was walking on broken glass.
You painted black and blue my canvas with your fists.
Your needles bled my fragile veins dry, slowly, you drained the very oxygen from my lungs for every time you stole my breath.
I slept on a bed of nails and walked on broken glass, but no pain was worse than feeling the person you love turn your ambitions to dust, crumble your
confidence, and tear apart your bravery.
I was not human, but marionette, controlled by the hands of my puppet master.
FIXATION
Eager eyes and a hopeful heart
of innocent and pure intent.
Just to be in close proximity
gives smitten eyes their glint.
Clouds beneath infatuated feet,
lost in daydreams through the night.
Weakened knees and butterflies,
the tell tale signs of loves first bite
Who's not traversed that winding road,
whose ups and downs are not yet shown?
Each twist a chance to turn romance
into love, loss, or the friend zone.
It's a tight rope walk on eggshells,
drama traps made to anger or please.
Perchance you reach the other side,
and the juice just ain't worth the squeeze.
The lesson here, though all too clear,
is lost to infatuation.
Loyal and steadfast makes love last,
sparks are frivolous fixations.
Sighs yet again
a fold here,
a crease there
origami wings
that are limp,
drenched
looking pretty lonely and pathetic
under, that, crying, sky, , , ,
, , , ,
/////
It ironically fits well
into the day that is filled with cracks,
that spills into the evening----
s h a t t e r e d eggshells
that can't be beared to be buried,
only placed carefully with the dried leaves...
If only for a moment,
I keep my cradle of tears at bay,
as I let the moon do the weeping for me.
A mental tracking back
of the weeks, days, hours, minutes;
Let the scientist return to inference
Walk back to the time of hope and grief--
The dendrobium. The grasshoppers. The twisted bonsai.
Looking behind,
the footprints
are still there... . . . ..
Wash them away
with waves of laughter,
Erase all vestiges of me.
Forget I was ever here;
that should be easy
...I never meant much to you anyway
214a22801012016
This is a mash-up of sorts of several writes of mine. I stitched it up with some lines. Very rough, I know, just felt like squishing some of my writes & edits together.
10 Little challenges, in the Bush today!
We've run out of firewood, let's go chop and make the afternoon full of work and play! Phew, Only...
9 Little challenges, in the Bush today!
Our chainsaw is out of batteries, let's turn on our generator and get started for the day. Good, now we've got...
8 Little challenges, in the Bush today!
The mice are back again, let's set some little chomping traps... So that they don't stay! Alright... There's still...
7 Little challenges, in the Bush today!
The slugs are eating our veggies again,lucky we've got some left over eggshells to help guard that space... Yes! We have...
6 Little challenges, in the Bush today!
The Currawongs got to our veggies too, let's put the netting back up so they can thrive and win the race. Oh my goodness, only...
5 Little Challenges, in the Bush today!
A big tree is falling close to us soon, let's use it for warmth and also keep ourselves safe... For now there's...
4 Little Challenges in the Bush today!
There are so many flowers blossoming and the bees are everywhere, let's stay calm and not fight but embrace... Now we only have...
3 Little Challenges, in the Bush today!
Our rainwater shower is out of gas! Let's run to the shed to grab a replacement bottle, we've got to wash our face. Getting close... There's...
2 Little Challenges in the Bush today!
It's so cold that we can breathe out clouds! Let's put on our thermal gear and go play games of chase. Finally...
1 Little Challenge, in the Bush today...
I'm so sleepy before sundown, it's been a big day of helping and learning off grid. It's time for something not so challenging... A big cuddle... I love how I'm being raised.
The End.