Long Heartache Poems
Long Heartache Poems. Below are the most popular long Heartache by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heartache poems by poem length and keyword.
You were the reason I could live through the strife,
You kept it from feeling like a stab with a knife.
Affection’s what I needed to make it through,
The kind of true love that I shared only with you.
That’s how I felt until one day,
You decided its better to throw it away.
The four months with you went by so fast,
Now I dread how long each day will last.
We would joke about me being locked in a tower,
Yet that’s how I feel without your power.
In a poem you wrote you said I am caffeine,
Now I know how you felt, I know what you mean.
As I was to you, you were also to me,
It just took losing you for me to see.
Having no you is like having no air,
You felt the same now it seems you don’t care.
A while ago you said you’ve fallen for me hard,
Now I sit here on the ground, I fell but I got scarred.
Before that night I thought we’d endure,
This was a fact, I was totally sure.
Then it came with your words that you unfold,
That you don’t want to see what our future will hold.
I promised to care for you through the thick and thin,
But now you've made that chance to be slim.
When was the last you listened to our song,
The way I find us now tells me it has been too long.
Remembering the times you’d say “I love you”,
Now I look back to find none of it’s true.
No one could love you as much as I,
I’ll keep our moments until I die.
I clearly remember those times we had,
Now they fade with you, I feel nothing but sad.
But what kills me the most was the look in your face,
What I had to look at when all this took place.
No frown, no sniffs, not a tear in your eye,
Even though it felt like I was ‘bout to die.
I had to stay strong and hold back all my tears,
All in the meanwhile being told my worst fears.
You said you would always love me so,
Though now I feel your love ceases to grow.
I sit here holding what’s left of my heart,
It slips through my fingers as it falls apart.
Now I look back at what seems a mistake,
But you’re the mistake I was glad to make,
The kind of mistake I would always make,
Even though it ends in my heartache.
Poetry from the heart you showed me to write,
And now it haunts me of that dismal night.
Though I know I’m not perfect and neither are you,
When we were together I felt that not true.
My life had no order but I was gaining control,
But now my heart’s left with a dark gaping hole.
Form:
“10And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. 11It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. 12It had a great, high wall with twelve gates, and with twelve angels at the gates. On the gates were written the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. 16The city was laid out like a square, as long as it was wide. He measured the city with the rod and found it to be 12,000 stadia in length, and as wide and high as it is long. 17He measured its wall and it was 144 cubits thick, by man's measurement, which the angel was using. 18The wall was made of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as pure as glass. 19The foundations of the city walls were decorated with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation was jasper, the second sapphire, the third chalcedony, the fourth emerald, 20the fifth sardonyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, and the twelfth amethyst.21The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of pure gold, like transparent glass. 27Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life.” Rev 21:10-12;16-21; 27
There’s a place for us
In heaven’s glory land above
Mansions of mercy
Golden streets paved with love
Living waters sweet
Fruits grown for our healing
The pathway’s narrow
Requires God’s special sealing
There’s a place for us
Made of diamonds and emeralds
Japser, sapphires; every precious stone
Twelve gates of large pearls
No pain or heartache
Just joy and peace reign
Our loving Saviour is King
His kingdom forever will sustain
There’s a place for us
God planned long, long ago
A palatial,‘holy city’
With a sparkling river that flows
We are His children
Heirs to His throne
Each one will receive
His own rightful crown
There’s a place for us
It’s not just a dream
Revelation describes it
Enlightened with God’s glory beams
I plan to be there—
By His sweet mercy and grace
I want to meet you there too
With our Lord face to face.
2008-2012 Copyright Maureen LeFanue
I had a dream that I was a butterfly
winged iridescent; my life would flutter by
as I was dreaming a dream of a dream of
my own lepidopteron being above.
Hither and thither I flightily flitted,
or so it seemed, as illusion befitted,
with troubles, eidolons, and nebulous fears.
And thus it continued for one hundred years.
In the Nymphalidae family was I,
akin to the nebula high in the sky
with beauty Cithaerial shimmering bright
in colors that cover the spectrum of light.
Knots and shells detailed in this Hubble capture
glow in light show that can bring about rapture,
cause soulful poets to sing about gladly
(seeing a butterfly wing about madly)
or brood over sadly with soft doleful sighs
the ultimate stages before its demise.
Stargazers perceive it with scientists’ eyes
and give facts and figures astronomer-wise.
The lobes of Twin Jet PN M Two Dash Nine
expand ever outward in pinion design
from central star system, in gaseous streams
of splendorous rainbows pellucid in gleams.
The binary stars at the nebula’s heart
go round one another in luminous art,
spending a century in this rotation,
and form the wings through their stellar gyration.
But let us return to the classical theme
of the Chinese philosopher’s famous dream
(which these rhyming stanzas have sought to extol),
where I found myself playing a starring role.
Diaphanous butterfly wings had I then
in the long-lived dream that I dreamed ten by ten
decades lastingly onward in cosmic time,
as did Sleeping Beauty in legend sublime.
Yet when I awakened, no alae had I.
No longer was I slender winged butterfly,
but veritably was a human once more,
with life to engage in, encounter, explore,
or just suffer through in a sentient state.
How would I create my tellurian fate?
Still I wondered if this was ‘reality’.
Could I be a butterfly dreaming of me?
To die, perchance dream; ay, indeed that’s the rub
that makes us endure the heartache and hubbub.
For death claims all beings as part of its sum.
And in sleep of death, who knows what dreams may come?
~ Harley White
______________________________________________
Inspiration for the poem was from the article, “The wings of the butterfly ~ New Hubble image of the Twin Jet Nebula”, of August 25, 2015, on the Hubble Space Telescope Org website.
(1.)
Dare I Compose, This Heartfelt Poem For Thee
Dare I reveal, dare to my soul expose
No longer hide behind life's hidden pose
Return to Southern roots, a simple man
Forget this dark world's constant wicked plans
Remember her, life's most beautiful rose
She the sweet goddess, that this poor man chose.
Dare I compose, this heartfelt poem for thee
Pray to Heaven to one day again see
Together walk those streets paved in gold
Hold each other always, never grow old
Wake each dawn, with Heaven 's love all around
With you darling, forever by my side
In divine paradise wading love's tide.
Dare I ink the words, darling I love you
Just to hear you say, yes, I love you too
Return to Southern roots, a simple man
Forget this dark world's constant wicked plans.
Robert J. Lindley,
Romanticism,
Dedicated To Blessing Of And Precious Memory Of-
( My Most Beloved Wife Clarisa, She That Saved Me )
*****
(2.)
As Length'ning Shadows, Filter Thru These Aching Hours
As length'ning shadows, filter thru these aching hours
Seeing flowers bloom, I lower both sword and shield
Yet in the black-distance still loom angry towers
For this world its angry powers refuse to yield
Dare I, beg this cursed world for a peaceful sign
As if this moment, Karma and golden moon align
Nay! To do such, what a great knave fool would be I
For Karma rang no bell and day holds no moon sky!
Standing alone, this soul seeks happiness again
As a wasted form, worn down by epic grief
Here walking through life, with overloads of pain
Crying out and at moment devoid of belief
Dare I, in such a state, again raise this sharp sword
Wade into battlefield, a brave soldier to be
Cutting and slashing the dark-cast and evil hordes
Tho' knowing, more will arise from a hellish sea?
Here wherein twilight shades are forever falling
And darkness its turmoil dances into my head
I cannot help but hear heartache and loss calling
Do I, do I thus choose to run away instead
Dare I, fail my raising, deny my Southern roots
Speed ever onward past grief, fears and bitter years
Absorb the poison arrows the enemy shoots
As they whizz on through this volley of falling tears?
Here wherein twilight shades are forever falling.
I cannot help but hear heartache and loss calling.
Robert J. Lindley,
Rhyme, ( Looking inward, Hoping to Life again Find )
Music and romance are camarilla comrades,
just like poems are my shield and arrows.
But not all lullabies of lovers,
harmonise like a street choir of angels.
If love resembles the weather,
then poetry is like a snowflake.
Its fragile abstract nature
can betray the innocence of a poetic heart -
serenading in slaughtered symphonies of silence.
When lust burns in assailable impurity,
love suffers in small doses,
performing a masquerade concealing truthful tones.
So what is the purpose of poetry if it offers no remedy?
Whispering winds form hailstorms in my mind,
wondering if there is a sanctuary
for lonely spirits suffering as seasonally sad souls.
In the midst of melancholic misfortune,
I wish to drown in tepid tides of holy water,
because fate is frozen in winter wanderlust.
Heartache taught me how to be a poet,
each scar inflicted from profound lies and cries.
But what is the purpose of poetry if there is no muse?
In the perception of imagination,
I search for the one
who left frozen tears on my pillowcase.
But her eyes see celestite waves kissing
ecru shorelines under blue pearlescent skies,
blessed with the radiance of saffron sunshine,
in the heavenly harmony of relaxing music.
So, I wonder why she resides in ebony emotions,
refusing to dance, lost in lyrical lament.
Some spirits evolve into envious entities,
but mine just misses the rose window to her soul.
When wine dark skies glare in misery and gloom,
composing ashen clouds to pour in plentiful rain,
I feel the chills of an Antarctic iced leaf on an ice covered lake,
but maintain an evergreen glow,
hoping to forever illuminate like cathartic moonlight -
reflecting upon her bronze fibers.
Opposites attract like fireflies in the night.
I am the bridge and you are the chorus.
so I follow footprints in the snow,
under the guidance of devotary sincere stars.
In the hope we will make melodies at midnight -
merging into rivers of unassailable purity
And If I can't be a poet, then I'll become a poem.
I cannot predict how my ink will spill,
so will you guide each verse to give it a purpose,
breathing my words into life?
Will you love me more than poetry?
Kissing all those diamond promises
into my rhinestone heart -
or will you massacre the music,
abandoning me like an unfinished symphony.
Rubber lover, Zipperella,
is not a brother or a fella.
He has false **** and kitten heels,
not a chest and ankles made of steel
His spiky rubber bag is old,
cleverly patched with a Marigold.
It’s been so long since he wore cotton,
and only zips, never a button
Zippy is a Tube commuter,
six foot tall in his Transmuters.
Lots of people stop and stare,
even more when he had pink hair.
Being a girl was such hard work,
every day another jerk!
Better to dye it back to brown,
play his fetish lifestyle down.
A little less attention is better,
when all he wants is bread n butter
Down to his local corner shop,
in skin tight leggings and a belly top.
He could blend if he wore a sweater,
or maybe brown corduroys would be better.
That’s what a woman would ask,
it had happened in ZIppy's past.
He’d had a wife who he'd loved dearly,
but she couldn't understand him...clearly.
Take off that dress, put on some trousers!
What about mother, think of the neighbors!
It went on like that for years,
lots of heartache, floods of tears.
Even though she was his lover,
he felt like they didn't know each other.
Then on a bight and sunny morning,
came the last, the ultimate warning,
‘Zippy, I want you as a man;
you’re turning me into a lesbian!’
He was forced to wisely choose,
the rubber-wear would surly loose.
He had made his vowels for life,
how could he just leave his (darling) wife?
The only decent thing to do,
was to be loyal, to be true.
But then depression set right in,
when all his beloved rubber was thrown in the bin!
Time stood still for a couple of years,
lots more heart ache, stress and fears.
For he missed rubber in his (now) sad life,
more than he would miss his nagging (dear) wife.
This could not go on forever,
he needed a friend not a jealous lover.
Maybe she didn't’t like his feminine side,
but Zippy loved dear Zipperella with pride.
So one sad day they said goodbye,
with no questioning or reasoning why.
It was how it was meant to be,
she was free, and so was SHE!
Alone again but not as much,
much more honest, much more in trust.
For Zipperella loves all things feminine,
now the woman he holds dearest lives within…him.
(Author Notes
fella: man
Marigold: washing up gloves
Tube: london underground
Transmuters: a brand of boots with frankenstein style heels with big studs)
Before you stand up to pray you might need to halt
and deal with any grievances that were your fault
and before you come to the altar to give God your treasures
stop and mend the hurt and then return to give your measure
hurt is hurt no matter if you've received it or gave
pain is pain but you don't have to take it to the grave
the Human heart is very fragile and sensitive to any and all strain
and it doesn't take much for it react to any and all pain
God said that forgiveness is the cure no matter the situation
but people tend to make forgiveness such a complication
yet the hurt is always worse when it's intentional and repeated again and again
especially when you're already low in spirit and it comes from a supposed friend
if you were ever to get hit by a big Mack truck
be it intentional or accidental you would still be broken up
to walk in the spirit of forgiveness you need to be most aware
that you in turn don't be the cause of any hurt anywhere
to talk in the spirit of forgiveness you need to watch the words you select
so that your tone and inflection are not perceived as disregard or disrespect
to seek forgiveness position your heart before God and let Him correct it
so start by letting go of the bitterness in life and allowing God to direct it
to come out of that prison and be released from that anger you can't seem to let go
and in turn to seek forgiveness from those whom you've hurt also
and don't ever use that phrase "If I did anything wrong?"
be sincere in your apology and but the blame where it belongs
so what are you going to do about those you've hurt and those who've hurt you?
you need to follow the directives that God has given to you
the Lord Our God said we need to forgive and to forget
to remove all the obstacles that won't let us walk in the Spirit
apologies are needed at home, at the job and the church you attend
you need to show true remorse and in your heart truly repent
as forgiveness is the only key that opens all doors in life
to forgive as the Lord forgave you in the name of His Son Jesus Christ
now free of the bondage and consequences of causing pain
to forgive others and to be forgiven for any hurt, heartache and/or shame
so what are you going to do about those you've hurt and those who've hurt you?
you need to forgive and be forgiven with a heart contrite and true
The faded wooden doors of the church
Loomed over me like the gates of hell.
A portal of anger and sadness,
That could consume my very body and soul,
Like a rabid dog looking for sanity
Forcing me into a typhoon of misery
And freezing me for a moment in time,
To remember a reality
That’s no longer real.
My soul, no longer a part of me,
Watching from above;
I watched my feet carry me,
With stuttering steps
Like a dying child;
Flowers of all kinds,
Roses, carnations, and ferns,
Poked their heads from every corner
Like peeping children
Hiding from their angry mothers.
Their smell no longer sweet
But reeked of death and heartache.
I no longer wanted to breathe
Panic ripped through my heart
Like a jagged knife
Tearing every ounce of sanity from my soul.
I gaped in fear as I saw her face,
A face that had once
Radiated with sunshine and laughter
Like a rainbow after a storm.
Was now filled with death and silence
To never again hold the key of life
But locked for eternity
In tragedy and despair,
Taking with her my life
And burning the bridge behind her.
I reached out for her hand
Then drew back in terror,
As her icy flesh burnt my skin;
A hand once warm and full of love
That comforted me,
Now lay motionless for eternity.
Sounds of grief and heartbreak
Burnt my ears like fire,
Causing me to glance in every direction;
People, many I knew,
Looked as if they too were in hell
Being gnawed at
By grief and pain.
My knees swayed,
Like a bridge in a terrible storm,
And buckled beneath me,
Throwing me violently to the floor;
As I lay cold and beaten,
I no longer cared to live,
My life was gone;
I looked up, hoping God would take me,
But saw only darkness instead.
Gradually, in the midst of that darkness,
Was a tiny light.
A light so bright and pure
I had to shield my eyes;
It called to me to get up
And like a broken child
I crawled to my feet;
I stood facing her
Her shiny skin gleamed in the light
Like a shooting star
As her beauty
Transcended her body.
At that moment she spoke to me
Begging me to go on;
I turned from her,
Facing the once hellish gates,
And staggered into a heavenly place
She promised to wait for me.
I reached for the handles of the heavy door
And walked out into the light,
A place where she and I
Were to live together
For all eternity.
Form:
My Agoraphobia.
In 1983 you came back into my life.
Bringing me nothing, but trouble and strife.
You kept me a prisoner in my own home.
When all I longed for, Was to go out alone.
You caused me pain, you made cry,
I felt so ill, I thought I would die.
From doctor, to doctor, from pillar to post.
Where o where, is the cure I wanted the most?
Where exactly does the answer lie?
Eventually I found it, in a doctor called Di.
She gave me the will to carry on and fight.
I fought so hard, with all of my might.
The shops in the village seemed so very far away.
If only I could go out, just for one single day.
I tried and tried, the tears, the pain,
It was a battle lose or gain,
I gave it everything, yes everything I had.
It wasn’t easy, in fact, it was very bad.
In 1990, after 7 long years,
A lot of heartache, many, many tears,
I was starting to win the battle of getting out the door,
With each day, I was doing more and more,
But there was still so many things that I couldn’t do alone.
Still so many jobs, that had to be done on the phone.
I could now walk to the shops, there and back,
get the groceries, take them home, and unpack,
But I still couldn’t get a bus into town on my own,
only if I had someone to go with, borrowed, on loan.
It took several more years, of heartbreak and pain,
Before I could finally travel alone again.
May 2nd 2000, I jumped on a bus and popped into town,
It was just like my world had been turned upside down.
HERE WAS I FREE AT LAST,
Finally free to forget the past.
So I decided to do something I had never done before.
I started at college part time, each day I couldn’t wait to get out of the door,
To catch my bus, to feel like I had finally rejoined the human race.
Living life at a hectic pace.
Going to college at the age of 53,
Really did do wanders for me.
The computer course was harder than I thought it would be,
but others in the class helped me.
Our tutor was really nice,
Always ready with good advice.
Now I really feel I have turned my life completely around,
With this new freedom I have found.
With a lot of help, from my husband and son,
The battle is over, finally won.
So its goodbye agoraphobia you belong in the past,
Never again will you get me in your grasp.
This is a true poem of my own battle with Agoraphobia, That robbed me of a lot of my life,
Since my mind started taking me on this journey going back to my past
I have worried non stop about how my heart would fall and how fast
I was right to worry and trying to keep myself all together well now sometimes that's task
But I did try to fight everyday
What to you I needed to say
But there became a time
Where those feelings I was painfully keeping inside
I knew from you I could no longer hide
They needed to be said
I just couldn't keep going like I was I couldn't breathe and the moment had come when I
couldn't any longer pretend
So I told you how I had always been with and still in love with you
You grew silent and speechless then didn't quite know what to do
I never meant to cause you any kind of sorrow
And when I look around you're not here with me today and I know you will not be here
tomorrow
I didn't want to make any trouble for you or be the reason for any heartache or pain
But I selfishly needed to so much stop my personal hell and rain
I still believe whole heartedly in everything I told to you
Even if now I am the one who don't quite know completely what to do
Some tell me to give up and just go ahead and give in
They tell me this maybe a game you're not meant to win
If that could be done easily what makes people think I wouldn't have already done it
Yet here in this room alone I still continue to sit
And even though sometimes I won't admit it, my heart's breaking off piece by piece and bit
by bit
They just don't get that on this for me giving up would just tear me more apart
Because you are the one who still after all these years has my heart
God must have a plan for me
Because dealing with all this I've come to clearly see
Just how much of a person I've grown
I know I can make it and I now am no longer afraid to stand on my own
But I understand and yes I know
That in this journey within myself I still have quite a long way to go
At times I still feel so week and that I haven't came very far
And I find myself wishing on each and every single star
Why do I at times feel so crazy and like I don't belong?
I feel like you and I were meant to be so strong
And if in feeling this I'm entirely wrong
Then to me it doesn't make any kind of sense
As to why I feel all this and more so intense...
...you and I will always be together in spirit from the day we met and until eternity