Long Heart shaped Poems
Long Heart shaped Poems. Below are the most popular long Heart shaped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heart shaped poems by poem length and keyword.
The 11-winged horse
Ate cupcakes through the night.
Growing up my father
Telling me, "I love you."
The bullfrog won a 3rd term
As leader of the free world.
My mother lost her temper
And grabbed me hard by the arm.
Young unicorns sat behind booths
Outside groceries selling horn scout cookies.
My older brother used words
That me me feel good about myself.
Jellybean waterfalls.
Me knowing how cars work.
Talking dandelions spouting
Pollen with every breathe.
Me hugging my sister
Murmuring genuine praise.
Heart-shaped clouds
Drizzling raspberry lemonade.
Me never being afraid.
O Marvel, Earth’s treasurers, Air and Trees
Hasten poet, bring your imagination, brandish your pen,
initiate your truths, bring your ideals – use oak, elm, and maple.
Poets die natural deaths, flesh deaths, but their words retain life.
Poets leave this earth plane, becoming dust to dust, under acorns.
What remains is all that ever was
All that ever mattered
Their ideas prancing like leaves
Dazzling, spinning heart-shaped missives.
Angels collect our spirits, and we do not hesitate
Traveling rapidly from this plane, heading toward Nirvana
Caring not what or who is left
They do not yet know us
But some will
Because of the parchment we left behind
The scribblings on trees
The acorns of ideas other poets will use to build their oaks
Some will peter out quickly
Others will turn into a magnificent forest
That shows the world what we meant in the first place.
Music is an undying
art of soul ~
an abstract eden, where,
euphonious unicorns
glide in strawberry sonatas,
amplifying rhapsody in
ballads of flight,
when fuchsia feathers
tease those
jingling breezes,
infusing breaths
in every lifeless aroma;
where I can soar
beyond the
brushstrokes
of symphonies that
planktons sing to me,
in the requiems of
forsaken pearls,
crooning with
silenced shimmers
beneath wavy blues.
Maybe,
I'm a songwriter
without words,
and my electric fingers
trace the tunes
of serene strings,
when guitars weave
a sonorous guilt
midst ruby runes
of regrets.
I wish to keep
swinging in a
cosmic cadence,
where celestial notes
choreograph
themselves in the
moonwalking
mellifluence of
lunar legacies.
I gossip with
neon nightingales,
laced with neutrinos
and compel them
to chant those
healing incantations
of love and glory,
like the forlorn
princess - Rapunzel,
desiring to feel
the glow of
familiar lanterns,
winged with
hazy syncs of
unsung yesteryears.
I wonder if,
I'm not meant
to compose
crystal canticles
in a Disney duet,
for, I believe,
I'm a soul searcher
in the flesh of
a soloist, concocting
an elixir of my
existence through
cinnamon anthems
of mystical
moonrises, as
they softly unfold,
a million
unheard tempos,
within tranquil
memoirs.
I'm the 'maiden of music'
resting as a floret on
every sepal,
yearning to become
a unique acapella
of nature,
where empathy
has an ethereal
dialect of
nurturing spirits
and tinkles
of magical waterfalls
whisper in
gentle lachrymose lulls
of our ambrosial Mother.
When the harmony
of my voice,
kisses those
ivory keys of
the heart-shaped
piano, they
echo a tipsy secret
in my sunset skin,
making me
believe ~
"I'm everywhere
in the essence,
yet nowhere
to be found...",
like the sweet
scents of
hummingbirds,
smiling behind
that first dusky star.
"In each husky hallelujah
of ribboned halts and replays,
life is a song ~
where every lyric,
phrases an ember of end,
and when passionate heartbeats
shall knit sombre medleys,
I will hum in the last 'chef-d'oeuvre'... "
If there was a pill that I could take today
This pill could hit the spot without delay
And this pill was the same shape as your loving heart
It will cure all my ills and my pains for a start
It can make a path down to my weary soul
And it can build me up and make me feel whole
If this pill is your love and you send it to me
Then I will swallow it quickly and just wait and see
This pill must come with a strong warning too
Will you take my heart shaped pill I sent to you
This heart as a pill will work for the one and only
Cures all the ills and stops one being lonely
If affected don’t drive or use heavy machines
Give to the one you love, and start living your dreams
© 23/01/2013
Contest Entry for The Pill of Life Contest sponsored By Russell Sivery
I hold three magic rocks in my hand
Over and over and over I roll them
leaving this reality far behind
Into enchanted mist, I stroll then
How do I know it's magic? Because
a tiny man beckons, as I pause
What's going on? I try hard to think
Then, Tinyman laughs, gives me a wink.
I follow through a tiny green door.
I'm suddenly small, tumbling before
landing amid blossoms' tangled scent
and faeries wondering my intent!
This land has soft, watercolor skies,
heart-shaped clouds, a lavender sunrise
Where faeries dance each night until dawn
then leave faerie circles on each lawn
They're delightful in every way,
I'd like to stay awhile, if I may!
Oh, Raggedy Ann is here, I see
and my old baby doll that could wee.
And my dolls made of paper so light
with lovely clothes to change til alright
And Scarlet O'Hara, with dark curls
and pretend makeup only for girls!
Sometimes recalling childhood brings tears
The fleeting moments of passing years
Memories linger of younger days
before Time and Childhood parted ways.
Childhood is now seen only in dreams
And, faeries have traveled on, it seems
Tinyman now just appears in mists
To remind us magic still exists...
if we believe
Outside my window
the lemon grass sways in the wind
and the heart shaped leaves of the winding morning glory
fold their hearts in half hiding in the sunlight.
The yard is strangely quiet,
no birds flitting about feeding their young anymore.
All appears done with Spring and summer ended.
Outside my window
the crickets screech in the breeze calling for a warm, humid day
shaded by the oaks and sycamores
the coolness welcomes the morning, promising a bluer than blue sky;
The garden fails to thrive with faded blossoms of black eyed susies
and dried out pink and white coneflowers.
The once promised rainbow of color disappears as I watch quietly.
Outside my window
life changes and hurries on
ready for the next season
welcoming it with silent reluctance.
The life within the garden begins to slumber
gathering food and warmth for a hard winter to come.
Life is still there, ever persistent and awaiting season changes.
Form:
sea-urchins in rock pools –
the flesh, a delicacy –
sparkle –
protected from the ocean
where anemones proliferate –
by a mist-glistening
heart shaped rock:
the keeper of my secrets –
a cache of memories
of mornings snorkelling
surface
eddy on the periphery
—homesick for my roots—
a keeper lost to shifting tides
white horses
masking risk in its wake …
a plastic wrapped sushi tray
on the kitsch kitchen counter
awash with the detritus of daily life—
a cold cup of coffee
milk skin
swirling like
liquescent marmoris
fluctuant under
fractured light
tender moments
where flaws hide in the spotlight
Laetrile induced
unsettling riptides
where occasionally colour swirls
marbling visions
the future liquescent …
I’m drowning in
proposals of memories
to be made with loved ones
family secrets to
be offered up
a dish that could be as
risky as Omakase …
smiling indulgently with my eyes
as a mirror-smooth ocean –
a north-westerly wind
whipping up the occasional white horse –
hides its turbulent depths
so a state of amenomania
settles over me
the final images
– as requested –
the secrets of my life
tucked away in an abditory—
eddying between past and future
the key to
unlocking it
—left in their hearts—
The ‘price of love’ rises just for one day of the year
Stick a cardboard heart on some merchandise - the price quadruples!
Every February we see ‘love’ lying in neat rows on the shop shelves
Cards, chocolates, flowers, perfume and cute fluffy toys
A sea of red roses that stretches as far as the eye can see
For some reason these roses are never Buy One Get One Free!!!!
The prices they charge rise quicker than a red heart shaped helium balloon
Yet on 15th February everything will be half price
Is this the price of true love or am I just a cynic?
I’ve never had a Valentine from my husband, or him from me
We don’t need to prove our love on just one day of the year
Jan Allison
3rd February 2016
A lady and a pillow
I read about a woman who, when going abroad
takes a pillow from her bedroom, one with printed flowers
and smells of yesterday’s shampoo and rinse
not a silly little heart-shaped pillow was given to
the newlywed with a knowing wink and smarmy smile
so, what do I know about anatomy or the structure
of a skeleton?
The lady with her cushion doesn’t stay in the youth motel
but a proper hotel, where they say: “Does the madam
like a cup of tea? She sweetly smiles, wishing the question
had been of a sultry nature
The roaming woman visits art galleries and museums
dines at a nice restaurant that has white tablecloths
wide chairs and soft music
“Does the madam like dessert?” She sweetly smiles, but
wishes the question had been daring, what she whispers
to the pillow.
The left handed boy with a stick in his hand drew a row of hearts
across the sand. Tides crept in and washed them away but he
drew them again the very next day..
A girl pinned a heart on the arm of her sleeve. It rhythmically pulsed and
began to breathe, open to all to give and receive..
Children colored hearts and kept in the lines. They gave theirs away
as Valentines..
A teen carved a heart in the base of a tree, professing his love
til eternity..
Two lovers soaked in a heart shaped tub, their bodies intertwined
in an intimate hug..
A life is now gone and laid to rest while their heart beats on
in another person's chest..