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.
Glass shattered Saturday afternoon tea for S I L E N C E
holding steady raven momentum for its own r i p p i n g
fire from heartbeat slashes its void to tumble wounds of
wisdom weeping slow dirty tears of biting burns inserting
into wordless flesh of waiting before window panes were
smashed with stone docile ornaments, rampant afternoon
unvoiced holding a blank white canvas for dripping
bookshelves tumbled, poems torn to sheds, laundry strewn
with glass splinters as lead, aphonics slithering into dried out
stewpot waiting for maniacal tsunami to cremate emotions
tweezer them from dna soiled in possessive prisons ridiculed
Divinity spoke in all pervasive silence on testing timeline taut
holding breath to His nostrils imbibing a billion frequencies
I chose to brave open His serene lips for unutterable L O V E
lashes He crafted brushed breathy implicits with assent
for missions of courage traversed embracing solitude
observed in stillness whilst across eerie forest moss
carpets I deciphered “They Don’t Care about Us”
hush self wears a daisy cloak from heavenly dew fields
luminosity unzips not as lies hop chaotic across
spiderwebs it can chameleon transmute into gentle
streams to soothe that which hides for right timing
~ first bud of white rose birthing delicacy or benign
waters over pebble backdrop quietude
biscuit baker feeds jealousy, deceit, shame, guilt, indecision
escapism ~ swampy keys of stagnant quagmires will too utter
her heart’s eclipsed light breaking egoic invisibility as
softly I breathe her shadowed taciturn s t e a l t h
quiet petaling garment breaks open blackout mission
regurgitating quantum memories incubated in beckoning cell
fertility for decades perhaps centuries, marching crusades of
soul conquering ancient lands, majestic mountains, raucous
seas, ports, yellow spices, when women with babes gagged
anguished longing for men to taste their honey in serenity
hot crusted bread speaking truths of labouring backs bent
cows chewing cherrywood cuds ~ what could be a more
knowing t r a n q u i l i t y ?
now wafered soundlessness is lamb yet diamond piercing
raw, a lark offers sotto tones as harmony cupped in two
musing wings to ascend where it can quintessentially
quiver, hover in expectant repose for another silent mission
ORIGINAL SONG:
Shine Your Light
Robbie Robertson
Ladder 49 Soundtrack
The cry of the city like a siren's song
Wailing over the rooftops the whole night long
Saw a shooting star like a diamond in the sky
Must be someone's soul passing by
These are the streets
Where we used to run where your Papa's from
These are the days
Where you become what you become
These are the streets
Where the story's told
The truth unfolds
Darkness settles in
Chorus:
Shine your light down on me
Lift me up so i can see
Shine your light when you're gone
Give me the strength
To carry on, carry on
Don't wanna be a hero
Just an everyday man
Trying to do the job the very best he can
But now it's like living on borrowed time
Out on the rim, over the line
Always tempting fate like a game of chance
Never wanna stick around to the very last dance
Sometimes i stumble and take a hard fall
hold your grip off the wall
Chorus
I thought i saw him walking by the side of the road
Maybe trying to find his way home
He's here but not here
He's gone but not gone
Just hope he knows if I get lost
Chorus
My Version:
SHINE YOUR LIGHT ON ME
Ive been down this road before
Its cold and dark and weary
No stars above me, no ground below me
The world is empty and I can only hear my heartbeat.
Shine your light on me
Shine your light on me
When Im all alone
Be my strength, my home
Shine your light on me
Help me God to see
That the world is bright
Be it day or night
Shine your light on me.
Sometimes Im hungry, my soul is thirsty
I long to hear the sound
Of sweet melody
People around me, they see right through me
Where has feeling gone
Where is humanity.
Shine your light on me
Shine your light on me
When Im all alone
Be my strength, my home
Shine your light on me
Help me God to see
That the world is bright
Be it day or night
Shine your light on me.
Now I see children with smiling faces
Innocence not lost, they gladen us the most
Teach the chidren
To be a mirror
For the blind to see, for the mute to talk
For the sick to heal, for the lame to walk
Shine your light on them
Shine your light on them
When they're all alone
Be their strength, their home
Shine your light on them
Help them God to see
That the world is bright
Be it day or night
Shine your light on them.
Written by : Farrah Veronica Sinha
Mind, spirit and soul
Truth be told, I gave you my all
Friends didn't have to know about us
This was for my heart and yours to know.
I loved.
Took my heart on a journey
With a car that had its tank empty
But I knew that we'll get to the garage surely
But I didn't know that's where we were going.
It seemed as though you have better plans
So I put mine on the side and listened to your will and cans
That had no maybes so I was willing to ride this baby... Though it was empty.
Love is blind and maybe stupid
No,Love is not blind and I am not blind I just find reality too victimising so I
hide my small heart behind the saying "Love is blind"
As for it being stupid? NO! But just maybe our relationship was stupid.
So I walked away
Till a flood of tears caught up with me on my way
And I started floating back to you
Till I realised you caused the floods then went back to sunnydays.
I can't swim so I'll sit here until I'm covered with mud
Perhaps I walked away too far
When I turned, the journey back to you was too long
Perhaps, I gave up on you too fast that when I turned our car needed much
more than gas
But maybe the journey had to end eventually...
But wait you have my property
So we must end this properly
So I'll swim to where you are
My heart; that is all I want.
Getting constipated by anger
Over-controlled by feelings
Swimming in your tears
Added salt to my fears!
I found you exactly where I left you
I apologised for my mistakes long enough for you to finish fixing the breaks
The car was crumbling like dry cooked cakes
You told me that you found a she to help you cause I really caused you pain
You told me "I should stop talking to you, it'll ease the pain"
I went crazy thinking; "Are you insane? Do you know how bad it was,
swimming through that salty lane?"
You carried on saying "I'm feeling much better..."
Heartbeat got slow
I started thinking "Oh no! Yolanda you a monster for causing the guy so much
pain!
Yolanda you are stupid for risking so much for no gain!
But no way! I got pride so I won't let you see my pain
So instead I said "Oh...wow...okay...cool"
Hearing my heart beat slow
And a rock of sadness on my throat
I said "I will help you get better"
I'm starting my own flood and I hope it takes you away
Don't swim back to me.
A Man of Strength and Courage
(A Man Of Beauty And Respect)
A True Story
Who was he? He called himself the
unknown Poet, my great great great
grandmother's uncle Joe. He lived
a long exciting life, loving one woman
in time of war.
A Martin Trapper he was, an artist of fine
design, a poet in his time, a fine gentle
soul of the universe capturing each
thought writing them down in journals
and poetry.
If you should ask him what he believed
in! he would say; “I believed in God, sounds
of nature, love of mankind, love of words
anything to do with nature is where my
heart roams best.”
He was true to his own beliefs, a man
of heart, determination, a man who
would walk a mile in another man's shoes.
He was the heartbeat of the land, a
true mountain man of the wilderness.
He wore leather, long hair, beard a loving heart
for all animals including the bear, he grew
closer to as he traveled the mountains
year after year doing his Martin trapping
for food. He was a God-fearing man
of courage and strength all his own.
He was truly remarkable, who
fought with George Armstrong Custer
and the men of the 7th Cavalry where
they met their fate and the Sioux on June
25, 1886, at the Battle of the Little Big
Horn'. Uncle Joe was sent to get
reinforcements at the age of fifteen
when he returned, they found them all
mascaraed. Including (George Armstrong
Custer).
Many of his journals, poetry and
sketches were burned in a trailer
fire, but to this day, still remember
at a young age trying to read his poetry
I do remember seeing some of his sketches
he had sketched with pencil by candlelight
in his cabin in the winter in the Canadian
Mountains.
One sketch I remember well was of
a lovely lady dressed in a long gown
with hair piled high upon her head
she looked lovely.
That winter was long and cold and Joe
never returned home from his trapping
the Royal Mounted Police found him dead
next to the creek by his cabin. He died
of starvation.
This is just part of his story my great great
great grandmother told me of her uncle Joe. I
wish she would have told me more about his life.
I want to pass this on to my family so they can keep
passing it down from generation to generation.
Copyright ? DerenaBree( All Rights Reserved). Publishing ? Man of strength and Courage®( All Rights Reserved.)
Kim (one of my BFF) brightened with inspiration, “Oooo! Send him a sexy pic!”
“I’m NOT going to sext a guy out of the BLUE,” I grumbled, indignantly.
Kim turned to her phone, “No, No, of COURSE not.” She said as she texted.
“Come on” she said, as she pulled me off my chair and out the door. We raced over, on foot, to my friend Bili’s house (two houses away). We entered without knocking (as usual) and ran upstairs.
Bili lay on her stomach on her unmade bed, fiddling with her phone, ankles up and crossed but she twisted up to attention when we came in.
“What should we do first?” She said, as if there were a million things to do.
They set upon me and had my regular clothes off in a heartbeat. Like all makeovers, this had a prelapsarian purity - the ritual stripping down to blankness before rebuilding.
They quickly went through about half of Bili’s closet - selecting just the right combination of trashy and classy clothes designed to seduce.
They finally settled on a black slip under an ivory peignoir, stockings with garters and black strappy heels.
Kim twisted my hair up into a loose “Gibson Girl.”
“Hold still,” Bili said, as she grasped my chin and expertly blended red, gold and black glittery eyeshadows followed by lip liner and gloss. “This is just a quickie job,” she reminded me.
I stared at this strange version of myself in the vanity.
Kim frowned and looking around, she spread a pink scarf over the desk light to give the room a rosy glow. They went into studio mode - posing me in various ways from coquettish to bored lounging - suggesting expressions and taking endless pictures with my phone.
Finally, they were satisfied and handed me my phone.
“Shall we go through them?” Bili asked
“Naah,” I said, “I’ll go through ‘em and pick one - or two.”
Later, at home, I looked through them - I looked SO different - and I had to admit - sexy even. But was that ME? I cringed, what if my mom saw these trashy, Kardashian-like photos somewhere?
I never sent them. I thought I’d have to explain it to my girls.
“HA!” They laughed, “We KNEW you’d never use ‘em” Bili said, as Kim shook her head “Nope.”
“It was fun though!” We all agreed.
.
.
.
NOTE: This is a pre-pandemic story from August 2019. I was 15 - the idea wasn’t to seduce this guy, it was to get his interest so he would ask me out . =]
As i sit on this bathroom floor,
gripping a blade in my hand, with it
firmly pressed on my left wrist. I
start thinking this thought that could
change everything.. End everything. I
think of the people who would miss
me. I think of the people who
wouldn't care. I think to myself,
"Should I be doing this", this voice
inside me says, "Yes. Why are you
living anyway? Nobody cares for
you, they wouldn't even notice you're
gone. They don't love you.. Come on,
do it.. End it now, it's the best way..
It's the only way. The sound of the
voice was so weird. Well I can't say the
voice inside of me was wrong. It had
been completely right about
everything. What if this was the only
way? I wish it hadn't been true. It is
the only way. I think to myself, "Suck
it up! It will all be over soon. Just
one, two, three quick slits and you're
done. Get it over with already, i'm
tired of thinking about it! Then all of
a sudden, a voice said, "Stop! What
are you doing? This isn't you." The
voice was so heavenly, so clear, so...
Beautiful. I didn't bother wondering
where the voice came from, because
it came like the weird voice inside
me. I told the voice, "You don't know
me! You don't know anything!" SLIT
SLIT SLIT. Crimson blood, running
down my arm. I feel calm and in
control, but the pain is unbearable.
Unaware of it, I start to feel tears
running down my face. I get dizzy,
the bathroom I lay in gets darker. My
heartbeat gets slower, then, I fall into
a deep sleep. Or what I think was a
deep sleep. After a minute, I get up
from laying on the floor. I look
around, I see blood on the floor and
something else.. Me. Still lying there
on the floor, unconscious. I looked
so relaxed. Then it came to me. "Am
I dead?" Where is hell? Where is
heaven? I committed suicide so
heaven is not an option. I sit back on
the bathroom floor.. Confused. I fell
asleep next to my body. Morning
came, I wake up feeling groggy,
confused. I hear people banging on
the bathroom door and yelling. I
stand up, stumbling. I look around to
see blood still on the floor.. But the
unconscious, bloody body was
gone.. I was gone. Am I alive again? I
cleaned the blood, put on my best
face and hid the scars. I opened the
door and a bright light hit my entire
body like I just stepped into heaven
or something.. Everything is just so
clear now.
Robert Lloyd Sherriff - Australian Poet, Author, Actor, and Model: American Historian.
Robert Lloyd Sherriff - Australian Poet (Born: 8th July 1954)
Robert Lloyd Sherriff - Follow if you want to be a better poet
An Ode to the Unbridled Spirit of Creation
In the quiet twilight of creation, where thoughts whisper to the soul, an untamed wildness is yearning to be set free. Deep within the heart, soul, and mind, the seeds of expression find their nurturing ground in this hallowed space, waiting to bloom into various colours, sounds, and words.
In the limitless expanse of the imagination, every heartbeat plays out like favourite melodies tinkling away on ivories under practised fingers. Music that not just echoes in chambers of the self but resonates through the ages, carrying with it the essence of its creator.
And oh, to paint the sky—a vast and undiscriminating canvas! With bold and gentle strokes, we call upon the palette of our emotions, blending hues in ways so profound that they leave even the divine in awe. Each colour is a word; each brushstroke is a sentence in the universe's grand narrative, celebrating the spectrum of human experience.
In the dance of words, written with enthusiasm uncontained, the pen becomes an extension of our deepest selves. Each phrase is a footprint left for eternity; every piece is a potential masterpiece that whispers secrets to those willing to listen even three centuries hence. What are words, if not vessels of our truths, dreams, and fears, cast across the temporal sea in hopes of reaching kindred spirits?
The beauty of creation lies not merely in coherence but in the chaotic symphony of expressing everything and nothing all at once. In the liberation of thoughts, unburdened by the constraints of conventionality, we genuinely connect — heart to heart, soul to soul. The essence of our being unfolds, touching others, enriching well-being, and bridging realms between the inner world and the outer universe.
As a poet, this is my plea—an invocation to all who dare to dream, to feel deeply, and to share unreservedly—serves as a beacon for the weary, the dreamers, the lovers, and the seekers. Your poetry, art, and song aren’t merely a reflection of your life or a tribute to those you love; they celebrate existence itself, connecting threads in the intricate web of human experience.
Contrary to popular myth, Einstein did NOT reject the existence of Time, but he did reject the differences of its elements, stating that "the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion" ...
TIME ...
Is a phantom with many faces
It drifts, a blotchy mist from our early years
The cognizance of self-awareness like a patchwork quilt
Most memorable moments shining like warm sunlight
Mundane and everyday, a foggy swirl, as we slowly become ... ourselves
Memories splicing together like a movie in our mind ...
We learn and experience, as the images from memory clarify
All flowing like a rill to who and what and where we are
It is an invisible, ghostly yardstick
Chopped up into segments that we build actuality around
An ethereal inchworm, crawling at the pace we allow it
We watch it, breathless, wondering what branch it will take
What it will make or show of the now or then or later
It is beastly wraith that controls and objectifies all we do
We are powerless before it, yet we worship it with our every heartbeat
It is a monster in the dark
A horrid creature under the bed, waiting to grab our ankles
And pull us into the bleak, oily black of oblivion
It dances in the dark of night
Wearing the skin of our hopes, and the mask of our dreams
Laughing at promise like a mad moon laughs at the tides
It is a demon, immutable and brazen
The unchangeable mirror of our mistakes and pains and decisions
Thumbing its nose at our cold conscience
And yet, it is an angel, too
That carries on its wings the brightest of thoughts
The joys and loves and friendships that sustain us
Bright sparkles on the wave tops of what was, treasured and golden
And though we strain with all our might and marrow
We can never touch those many faces
For no sooner have we gazed on its visage than it has turned away
No sooner do we see it approach - smiling, waving, affirming
Than it has flashed by us in a swirl
It is our god and our devil
Our hope and our despair
Our villain and our lover
The keeper of our consciousness, moments and prospects
Our precise measure of what can NEVER be measured
And the universal spirit of existence
That will never, ever ... exist.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is there love still there?
And will it ever show?
There's really good days and really bad days,
Sometimes it's as if our hearts have went their seperate ways,
I often think we just tolerate each other,
Cause we know how exhausting it is to start over with another,
There's weeks at a time we go without sex or passionate kissing,
Everything we had in the beginning I know we're both missing,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
You used to make me feel pretty, confident, and loved,
Now I feel forgotten, Hated, Pushed and shoved,
Believe me, I know I'm hard to deal with and be around,
And your heartbeat when I'm With you now makes a different sound,
I miss the feeling I used to get being with you, like I was enough,
Now somedays I feel useless to you and getting used to it is really tough,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
We once hated being apart even for a little while,
And it was so easy to make each other giggle and smile,
Why is it so hard for us to get that back? Why?
Some days I wanna lay in bed all day and cry,
I know we could be something so great,
I just pray that for us it's not too late,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
Do you even love me the way you did at first?
Or is it just dream bubbles I have that are about to burst?
Sometimes it's as if we are strictly best friends who live together,
Not two people in love who want to be with each other forever,
We don't talk like we used to, we just sit and play on our phones,
As if we aren't even in the same room like we're in different zones,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
You have no idea how much you really mean to me,
I wish you could have my thoughts for a day and then you'd see,
That since the day I met you my heart has been yours, and I've loved you,
I love you just as much now as i always have and I hope you feel the same way too,
Maybe our hearts will come back together like they should be,
Cause I know there's noone else out there as perfect as you for me,
What happened to us?
Where did we go?
Is the love still there?
And will it ever show?
Painful Perspectives
Bullying in America
"About 77% of students have admitted to being the victim of of one type of bullying or another."
--www.bullyingstatistics.org
My stomach tightens once again
By now I know the drill
It doesn't matter what I do
Move on, scream out, stand still
My heartbeat throbbing louder now
As heavy footsteps near
My mouth, dry as a cotton ball
My shoulders hunch in fear
Suddenly, I feel the sting
My cheek turns cherry red
The smack has almost knocked me down
The pain shoots through my head
Now words so cruel they pierce my heart
I try to block the sound
My efforts useless yet again
Scars stain my soul deep down
I touch my flesh to feel it swell
My light begins to die
My head held low, I walk away
Too numb by now to cry...
"Approximately 30% of young people admit to bullying others."
---www.americanspcc.org
For me, each morning starts the same
No feelings, just routine
Commands and orders barked my way
"Get up! Get dressed! Get clean!"
I step into the blinding sun
Yet pause before I go
Just once to hear, "I love you dear."
The door slams; I should know
The sadness that I used to feel
Has slowly turned to rage
So off to school I stomp ahead
My heart locked in a cage
Not long after I arrive
I choose my timid deer
My heavy footsteps lead the way
Toward the scent of fear
My hand hits flesh; I feel relieved
To share my hidden pain
I utter words so cruel and vile
Too numb to feel ashamed...
"It is reported that 70.6% of young people say they have seen bullying in schools."
---www.americanspcc.org
Standing near my closest friend
I feel the tension rise
By now, I know what to expect
Not once am I surprised
My fingers tremble slightly still
As I await the scene
I fight the stinging in my eyes
Why is this world so mean?
I watch my best friend cower now
The same thing every day
I cringe for what's about to come
As predator seeks prey
My inner struggle swallows me
I long to take a stand
I fear the wrath if I intrude
Escape, I haven't planned
So helplessly I witness pain
Inflicted on my friend
I wish I had the courage to
Make the bullying end...