Long Leaned on Poems
Long Leaned on Poems. Below are the most popular long Leaned on by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leaned on poems by poem length and keyword.
Encrypting Your Name With Verse
By Phan Tan Hai
you can’t see your name between the lines
I put it on paper
words from days and months
that have almost vanished
and see again among the
secret words
your face is stealthily appearing
chilling my soul every night.
I put it into a poem
the footprints you left in the snow
from days so far away
with the cold wind shivering my ink lines.
shaking, I read
and see you walk
among words on paper.
I put it into words
the memories
from days so far away
and hearing amid the fading strands of smoke
your sorrowful voices
how did we lose each other so clumsily
you will notice
the fragrance hidden in my words
the fragrance from heaven
that you once
brought into my life
in a day of snowfall
the day we leaned on each other
to help pass every step
and many times we slid and fell
along the icy sidewalks
where your laughs fell onto
and then soared back to the sky
transforming into snowflakes
and since then on
cooling my days and months
you will someday read
and see beneath the poetic lines
that I write down tonight
and will notice among the clauses
so many words without rhymes
those are my remaining days in life
those are days and nights
being tilted and encrypted with your name
once upon a time
at that place
you stepped into my soul
and then left
leaving a maze of paths.
LOST TO THE WIND
I yearned for you when pearly passion flowed
You leaned on me silent when day ended.
On shrubs, warm glow glistened as glow worm glowed.
Dusty dusk in dark veil as eve faded.
Starry sky with torn clouds partly shaded.
I looked to your eyes with thirsty desire.
Your reticent glance turned my world entire.
Ardent ardor was dishonored and ruined.
Yet my allure persists, still I admire.
But lavender love is lost to the wind.
08/12/20
Re edited on 03/12/23
You Say
Contest by Brian Strand
An armadillo leaned on a fence,
too wilted to muster a proper defense.
His cowboy hat slouched
like a biscuit overbrowned,
his dignity having long since left town.
The relentless sun blazed down with cheer,
roasting the pasture for the fifteenth month this year.
Grasshoppers staggered.
Mesquite trees panted.
Even the buzzards looked disenchanted.
The dillo squinted west and sighed,
I reckon I'm medium-well inside.
One more degree
and y'all will see
roadside jerky where I used to be."
A bead of sweat rolled down his snout.
He watched it fall. He watched it sizzle.
"Autumn," he grumbled,
"has missed her exit.
She's probably lost near Abilene."
The fence post offered little aid.
The shade was merely shade-adjacent.
He tipped one claw
to his hat and said,
"If anybody spots October,
tell it I'm awaitin'."
In the hallowed halls of college,
Where dreams bloomed like wildflowers,
I walked with a pencil in my pocket,
And a book cradled close to my heart.
My friends, oh dear companions,
We laughed under ancient oaks,
Shared secrets in dimly lit libraries,
And danced through midnight exams.
The pencil whispered courage,
Its graphite etching hope on paper,
While the book held worlds within—
A passport to realms beyond reality.
We scribbled notes in margins,
Doodled love stories and equations,
And when life felt too heavy,
We leaned on each other's metaphors.
But as the seasons spun their yarn,
And we crossed the threshold to university,
Some friends faded like ink on old pages,
Their chapters end abruptly.
They chose different paths,
Grew distant, their laughter echoing.
In distant corridors of memory,
Like faded bookmarks left behind.
Yet my faithful pencil remained,
Its lead unyielding, marking time,
And the book—oh, that cherished tome—
Still whispered tales of resilience.
For in solitude, I found solace,
The pencil sketching new beginnings,
The book unraveling narratives,
As I wove my own story, ink by ink.
So here's to the pencil and the book,
My steadfast companions through it all,
Their silent presence a reminder:
True friends need no spoken words.
And though others may change their ways,
I'll forever treasure these faithful allies,
For they've etched their lines upon my soul,
A timeless ode to friendship's enduring grace.
She sat beside the waterfall
where gushing thoughts cascade,
like tears that flowed along her cheeks,
her heart set to invade.
He left alone for pastures new.
A scribbled note in haste
he wrote then fled, as cowards do,
her heart a barren waste.
A lightning bolt out of the blue
that pierced her heart; she bled.
Much later on the ache still hurt;
her feeble wings unspread.
She dared not heed the tumbling sound
as water crashed on rocks.
How fit to let death end the pain!
She started down the walk.
But just before the water’s edge
a voice called out, “Be Ware!
The road you walk is treacherous;
for God’s sake, stand right there!”
He turned her round, and saw her face
spill tears upon her gown.
He whispered in her windswept hair
“One misstep and you’ll drown.”
“Please, let me go, you do not know
what burns here in my breast.
I need to douse these flames and find
my sweet eternal rest.”
She struggled then against his arms,
the longed for end so near,
and yet he held with all his might,
spoke words to still her fear.
And when all limp she leaned on him,
this man she did not know,
he soothed her as he said these words:
“I will not let you go.”
Drained of resolve she let him lead
from rock to lush verdure,
as reassurance kindled trust,
his hand was firm, secure.
They sat beneath a shady tree.
Engrossed, they talked at length,
and in the process she revealed
his presence gave her strength.
He held her hands, looked in her eyes,
his heart worn on his sleeve
as they agreed to meet again
before she had to leave.
She touched his face, with gentle grace,
leaned in to kiss his cheek;
her lips just trembled there a while
enough to make him weak.
“You’ve saved my life, and now I owe
the greatest debt to you.
When next we meet, after we greet,
I’ll give you what’s your due.”
He smiled into her upturned eyes
and said these simple words:
“I’ve been repaid with sweetest kiss
my heart and soul you’ve stirred.
We’ll meet again, and when we do
you will forget the past
for then, my dear, I’ll make a vow
of love that’s sure to last.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Paul Callus & Eileen Manassian ~ Sept 2019)
(A Callman Collaboration)
Along the path I chose, I met a man
A kindred spirit drifting in the wind
Like me, he was the youngest of his clan
We both were wounded warriors on the mend
Instilled with principles he would not bend
He traveled with me miles through sun and rain
It was my privilege to call him friend
I leaned on him as if he was my cane
But when I met a girl, I changed my lane
Then took a turn toward my destiny
His recent passing now leaves me in pain
Because he brought out all the best in me
Though paths may join, at some point they must part
Then sadness fills the void left in the heart
by Daniel Turner
in memory of my friend Ron
Notice how the stars
are pulling away from us,
and their light is less luminous?
I remember seeing them closer
than the flickering lightning bugs;
now even they fly to another universe...
An ever-changing universe
is an admonition of events
coming to an awful conclusion,
and as it extends further into infinity,
our fears grow too real to dispel mystery;
nights without stars
is a sea without sails,
pity the lonely moon staring in confusion...
The eclipse of the effulgent moon,in mid-winter,
covered the solar surface with obscurity,
even momentarily,we felt its density
and leaned on the edge of despair;
when light returned, hope was restored
in an ever-changing universe so vast and cold...
Only astronomy sees the changes
to enforce this belief on us,
and elucidates them with exact details;
and if we are deprived of perception:
we must tap our intuition
and flee with an ever-changing universe,
before every star disappears from our skies...
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
I had leaned on the bar of the balcony, when suddenly
My eyes and my mind have captured, from far away
A silhouette creeping down the steps and the stairs
Imitating a sassy ballerina with great skills and care
It's like a prima donna which was galloping gallantly
The mystical diva had an extraordinarily
Kif-kif style which could cause any man to shiver
She was so cute that I had bit really hard the palm
Of my right hand, as a sign of love, respect and envy
About fifteen meters away, I had found her so pretty
That my legs were frantically shaking. So powerful as a bomb
That I almost fell from the celestial clouds. The charm, beauty
And elegance of this muse were unparalleled
The Mighty Lord knows how to build wonders that are
Sensational, lascivious, wholesome, perfect even irreproachable
This angelic passerby had replied to my bonjour
Freezing me until her outlines and edges had classically detoured
Oh! Wonderful Lord, she was so fine and adorable
That my tongue had grown heavy and my face had sunk into the bay
The charm of beautiful women was superfine and mysteriously sassy
God knows when and how to make men sweltering and happy
Power lies with souls that are delightfully charming and flowery
O Woman! It’s very pleasant to dream at night and a little all day.
P.S. Translation of ‘Le Charme Des Belles Femmes’.
Copyright© January 2021, Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
(Dedicated to all my friends this year 2016 and I hope u all will still be near in 2017)
It's quite hard showing yourself, when to him or her you're just air,
You're there, but you can't be leaned on like earth,
or wash the tears like rain,
You're just air, carrying dust of memories, fogging their sight,
You're one they desperately need, but have to run away from,
holding their breaths, at hours when living was no choice.
But you never totally understood 'cos you're just air,
and all you wanted to do was enclose them in tranquility and love.
But you're just air,
Unlike touch, they don't feel you,
but only do when you're as cold as harmattan breeze
And as hot as a hurricane wind.
though you're just air,
they need to understand that you can be zephyr,
a cool evening breeze, whistling in their ears
when they need to sleep, that hope is here,
make them understand that you can cause the tides to sway,
a swoosh of hope in dry times
make them understand that although you're just air
You'll always be there
Once a lovely lady held me in her hands to dig holes,
in her beautiful garden full of flowers of all kinds;
we were always moving things around, here and there,
or planting new- somehow, together we found the space.
When finished she would place me against a brick wall,
of course, that is after she cleaned me, she was so kind;
during the winter she would put me in the garden shed,
then, in the spring out I would come to work with her.
One day she put me against the wall and I just waited,
the day, turned into another day, then weeks, months;
the summer ended, autumn came and went, it was cold,
I leaned on that wall all winter, I could feel the rusting.
Somehow, I knew that lovely lady was gone forever,
I was in a dark place as I watched to garden go to waste;
oh, wished I could just be thrown in the garbage,
then, the summer came and I felt a hand touch me.
It was a young woman, so pretty, she said hello,
you are just what I need to fix up this old garden;
I was so happy to get to work- and we did that day,
she told me that this was her gran's home- now hers.
Each day we worked and soon the garden was delightful,
she would sing as we worked, oh, I loved that so much;
and at the end of the day, she cleaned me very well,
and placed me safe in the garden shed not against a wall.