Long Heartbeat Poems
Long Heartbeat Poems. Below are the most popular long Heartbeat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heartbeat poems by poem length and keyword.
Emotional scars can cut deep,
manipulating how you feel.
And at night, when you try to sleep,
phantom tears suddenly turn real.
Everything seems so surreal,
when demons empower the blade.
And exonerating the steel,
your inhibitions slowly fade.
With every cut, blood oozes thick,
while the tides of guilt ebb and flow.
And time, pausing to watch this trick,
grants the only relief you know.
Anxiety, sends each heartbeat
pulsing and pounding in your vein.
And purging your soul with its heat,
blood flows, to extinguish your pain.
All alone, you question your worth,
cringing inside your broken heart.
And the world that's hurt you since birth,
recoils, as your life falls apart.
Collecting teardrops
of little comfort or warmth
Shadowing the promises
of ribbon shaped clouds
floating silently in harmony
with my heartbeat
My mind drifts softly
The darkness comes
on a sunlit day, reaching with its hand
through this wood framed window
streaked in sadness
but transparent so that I may see
into the fabric of my memories,
desperately fighting the fears
that slowly form
Now I sit here collecting teardrops…
so many shed, flowing anguish
embedded of a loss,
outlining the cracks in my heart,
etched in tomorrows,
lost to yesterdays,
when today you are gone
6/1/2017
Early sunrise, within the forest
A daily walk with mine eyes of rest.
Beneath rugged oak and pine tree's shade,
And the voice of nature's mirth play unafraid.
The spirit I inhale it occupies in space
As a cool breeze blows my hair across my face.
A dusty dirt road laced in crunchy wheat,
Red, yellow, and brown leaves my feet greet.
Shyly on soft earth shadow path quiver
And hastening heartbeat of cool blue river.
There, where nesting birds await safely,
In tall green and wither sedge blades safety.
Giving my heart to the verdant neighbor.
Taking pleasure, in earth's nurturing labor.
2/22/2022
A Lovely Day Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
HE has been in a Coma, for three and a half years.
His sweet wife LENORE has cried a billion tears.
Wait a minute; Did I go Astray, WAS it me that DIED that day.
The sorrow, agony, and pain has all been in my Brain.
Is She the One that suffers; My ROYAL QUEEN Doth Reign.
I watched as SHE came over TO give me my last HUG.
Lenore I really LOVEYOU : Please don’t pull the Plug.
I know SHE really LOVED me : but if it stops HER pain.
Then pull the plug : So my LENORE can live AGAIN
Oh my GOD I‘m going Home. My LOVE is living Still;
I must say Good-bye to my Heartbeat ; my LOVE JILL.
The plug is pulled. My soul takes flight : HEAVEN BOUND.
LENORE I’m going HOME ; My soul can finally rest : WAITING FOR YOU
My Heart stops, My head rest gently on the pillow on the bed.
My eyes wide open ; THANK GOD I know I’m D E A ----
Then I Awoke
Inspired by The Rambling POET"S Contest " I Dreamed "
I watch her in the sky shining like a diamond chit
splashing her light around in the midnight sombre
she is more beautiful then all other things that orbit
this star, she's an insight to our inner world order
and a heartbeat pulse, I've never known to quit
Watch how she tails her glow above your head
reminding you of halos, sunrises and auric sheens
She's a polished scintillant, never to be misread
a navigator in full throttle a beauteous inbred
even Captains of the sea want her on their team
I remember when I was little me and my daddy
In the backdrop of summer, standing on a balcony
He pointed a finger and taught me about star poetry
I never could have met STARS without his guiding light
So when he died, I quietly sent him out into the night.
3/19/2020
Words fall, quietly, from reliable lips
Swelled with yearnings for sincerity
Melodies of hope and grace, genuine
Praise…
Words pour out – from a heart who needs
To hear the music of light and faith,
The sweetness of heartfelt prayers,
Praise…
Words fall, tender, from hearts who see
Beyond the rivers, swelled by grief,
To the moments of gentle peace,
Praise…
Words float beyond the rivers and seas
Destined for homes in hearts who believe
He is alive and He is the reason I sing
Praise…
Words stir my spirit, flinging doubts to the wind,
Breaking the darkness with light that transcends
Every heart, every soul, all who know
Praise…
Words erase the shadows who haunt and worry,
Finding poetry, startling the spirit who believes,
He is risen, and we need not grieve, but
Praise…
Words, like a heartbeat, pulsing through the thoughts,
In rhythms, softest joys – whispering their hope,
Bringing every soul the promise of One we know,
AND, PRAISE…
Praise Him with words – but, oh so much more
Praise Him with hearts, with souls, with love
Praise Him with the beauty that comes to those
Who believe – His words are worthy of PRAISE…
Praise, so He knows – We love Him fully – we love Him more than anything!
Sing, Praise… for this King who brings hope that never deceives,
Sing, praise… for this Jesus who is everything!
A sparkling jewel
Of nature
It brings peace
To my soul
Fills the
Empty hole
Slows down
My heartbeat
Stops the retreat
And rebuilds
Refills
My heart
With wonder
With hope
With silence.
Pained
As I am
By my past
The re-casting
Of my being
The removal
Of my all-seeing
Alter-ego
Is a certainty
When on the boat
To Lerwick
With waves
Licking
The sides
And the rhythm
Of the slow
Humming
Engine
Slowing my rhythm
Sending
Me to sleep.
Gets me
Dreaming of
The glistening sea
This wondrous
Place
This hidden
Space
Where few
Do tread
And the calm
Descends
From
The first step
From the lack
Of Chain Stores
The Out-of-date
News
The stormy weather
Views
The Cream Buns
The Long lasting
Sun
A slow
Drifting
Pace
The hundred
Private beaches
The performing stars
At night
A delight
To my heart
I dream of another place
Like a dried-up fountain, I sip from my shadows,
Dusty memories, like forgotten books on shelves of dreams,
I swallow my existence, like a sea of silence,
And let it flow, spread, dissolve into verses.
I would like to open my heart, to sprinkle my blood
On the white paper, to write with the venom of melancholy
And to see how each word becomes a stiletto for me,
Deeply embedded in the flesh of readers, in the flesh of the world.
I need life to feed my death,
To feel how each breath becomes a verse,
How each heartbeat becomes a rhythm,
An echo of ancestral sadness,
And how my soul transforms
Into a river of murky light,
Flowing between rocks of pain, through valleys of longing.
Even if it kills me, I will scatter into words,
Like a rain of shooting stars,
Like a wind that whispers the forgotten names of ancient gods.
I need it!
Even if it kills me,
To feel how each letter absorbs my life,
How each sentence feeds my death,
And to know that I have lived, that I have existed,
In an ocean of words, in a universe of sadness.
I need it!
Even if it kills me.
Even if it kills me!
We dream of silence, pure and still,
A space where noise suspends its trill.
Yet in the void, a whisper still, hums,
For silence never ever truly comes.
In quietude, a heartbeat strums,
The pulse of life forever thrums.
Into such stillness, wily wind whistles will creep,
And drips of drops through cracks will seep.
The breaths we take, the sighs we weave,
The quest for silence, they do deceive.
A distant echo, a memory foretold,
Reminds us that silence can’t take hold.
For even when the world’s at rest,
The heart still beats within our chest.
And the mind speaks in words unheard
Mimicking sounds, quelled and deferred.
Even ears when dead and deaf to sounds,
Make it up, when tinnitus abounds.
For quietude can never ever be true.
For its cause is lost in solitude's glue.
MORE THAN VALENTINE
They mark February fourteenth in bright red ink,
As if love only stares once a year in a blink,
As though feelings need a season or a stage,
This seems as a scripted show on a calendar page.
But I won’t confine what’s alive and true
To roses, to poses and the gifts overdue.
Love isn’t rented; it’s not just a big deal,
It’s woven into daily life, intensely real.
They call it Valentine’s Day—so flashy and bright,
A nod to vices and sacrifices made in the night.
A reminder of bravery, of letters once penned,
Of love that withstood chains & pain that won’t end.
But love isn’t boxed in, it’s not just a trend;
It doesn’t come and go, it’s not just a weekend.
It rises with the sun, in devotion’s embrace,
And settles each night in our heart’s sacred space.
If love were a flower, it wouldn’t bloom just once;
It would open each morning, tender and nuanced.
If love were a language, it wouldn’t be said
Only when wallets and calendars are fed.
I’ve learned from a love that’s steady and true,
Not swayed by the seasons or the clock’s endless cue.
A love that gives freely, not seeking applause,
That mends what is broken and embraces our flaws.
So why should I wait for the fourteenth to show
The depth and the breadth of the love that I know?
Every sunrise is a lover’s light breaking,
Every heartbeat a promise, a vow in the making.
Not flashy but lasting, not hurried but fine,
A love that is patient, in body and mind.
“I choose you today,” in whispers and rhyme,
And tomorrow, and always, through all of time.
Let February remind us—let memories stay,
BUT LOVE IS ALIVE IN THE NOW, DAY BY DAY.
For love that is real doesn’t flicker or flee;
It lives in each moment, unceasingly free.
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?14th February 2025.