Long Tearful Poems
Long Tearful Poems. Below are the most popular long Tearful by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tearful poems by poem length and keyword.
A forlorn maiden wakes up in the middle of the night,
Heart aches with longing…
For the young man who had to leave her
For an unknown destination,
Glorious midnight Moon shines at the centre of the sky,
Alone and magnificent!
Singing to the glittering stars,
A song of solitude, of passion, of heartbreaking emotion !
The melodia floats in ethereal harmony on the wings of butterflies!
They dance to the tune of that song,
A multitude of them encompassing the horizon,
Colourful bodies emanating euphoria-
Radiating rainbow colours all around!
Ecstatic, transformed into gorgeous creatures...
Their joy, exultation sublime, creates
Poignant movements so surreal,
Moon invites them to join that refrain,
And wipe away the melancholy from the maiden’s
Tearful eyes!
What a magical extravaganza created !
Butterflies sprinkled with shimmering stardust,
Moon savouring their spirited sprightliness…
A damsel awestruck with the blessing of a miraculous sight!
A few moments of rejuvenation for her…
She dreams of being with her lover!
How hilarious is being born
with a highly sensitive nature;
this is unmanly and very rare
for someone seldom forlorn.
If transformation took place on a public stage,
I would be an enraged marionette
attached to strings that a puppeteer
would pull them up and make me act;
and sadder than a tearful boy without
a toy: I'll kick my performance into fast gear!
Would I be a tiny Pinocchio made of wood and nails?
I hate to lie, skip school and be another rascal;
Charlamane the Lion fits me better by all means:
Bill Baiter is quite funny, his jokes can crack a wall!
How silly is to assume that no great stature
is found in those with a highly sensitive nature;
hiding emotions and feelings and not burst out
into hard laughter with friends is missing out a lot!
“It’s a terrible love
And I’m walking with spiders…
It’s a terrible love and I’m walking in
Its quiet company…”-Birdy
Three long claws enclosed around a lone beating heart
Stone talons gripping in happy malice, silently angry by its pulse it cannot feel…
The longer I stare into the hollow sockets seeing only ugliness,
The easier it becomes to break into pieces over the mere thought of you
I thought it was a dull beat- a throbbing, fading beat disappearing into the night…
Though your image, once so grainy, is becoming clearer and clearer in the fogs of my consciousness
I thought it was just a dull, callous beat…
But the more it throbs against the stone, the more the stone cracks
The more the demon cries in anguish…the more I fall
So deeply in love have I become,
I can barely breathe in this misty embrace
The suspense of your blows make my innards whimper…make my mind shiver
My tearful eyes cry for your assurance
My body changes through the peeks of your light
It is all a joke!
This is all pathetic, low, meaningless!
Surely these claws over this heart do not exist
Holding onto nothing but dead spiders who once weaved miracles
Dust and spider legs….spider eyes…they had seen so much…felt so much with their prickly appendages
Through a lovely peephole beyond the three stoned fingers…
I see the entire world where they must have crawled
A world holding you…
If only I could hold you too…
Something tells me I would never let go if I had the chance
Something tells me I would crush you
I would turn you into dust and spider legs…
And yes, as all demons enjoy, I would lose you
In the grip of the three stoned fingers
Unless…
You were that heart I thought I had seen…
The heart that continued to beat long after it was ripped out
The clenched heart that throbbed despite its crushing cage
The very heart that bled and bled for no body and all for the sake of love
Beating and beating, cracking those frigid fingers
Into dust…
And all of the fallen limbless creatures would gather round…
And they would tell me… “He lives yet still…”
Weaving in their webs the very bloods and salts you pumped
Within me…and beyond me
Dead spiders weave and weave and weave…
And unlike human hearts, their ideas never tire
You can put lipstick on that pig if you want but it’ll still stink up the sty,
You can put wings on a penguin but that bird won’t learn to fly.
You can tell me all the stories you want and swear that they aren’t lies,
But you cannot change the truths I’ve seen with these tearful eyes.
I saw you steal a kiss from him when you thought you were alone.
I hear you from the other room whispering on the phone.
I’ve seen the love letters you thought were hid from this other man,
How you continue to deny these truths I cannot understand.
You can put lipstick on that pig if you want but it’ll still stink up the sty,
You can put wings on a penguin but that bird won’t learn to fly.
You can tell me all the stories you want and swear that they aren’t lies,
But you cannot change the truths I’ve seen with these tearful eyes.
I know that you two rendezvous when you say you’ve things to do.
I know each time you’ve been over there; I smell his cologne in your hair.
I know you think of him at nights lying here next to me,
“How do you know these things”, you ask, well Honey it’s real easy.
You can put lipstick on that pig if you want but it’ll still stink up the sty,
You can put wings on a penguin but that bird won’t learn to fly.
You can tell me all the stories you want and swear that they aren’t lies,
But you cannot change the truths I’ve seen with these tearful eyes.
For twenty years I’ve been true to you through the thickness and the thin,
And I believe you’ve been true to me until this guy waltzed in.
As much as it hurts to realize that you really like this guy,
It hurts much more each day you explore new ways to weave your lie.
So tell the truth then cut him loose and Honey we’ll survive,
But I won’t stay another day living in this lie
You can put lipstick on that pig if you want but it’ll still stink up the sty,
You can put wings on a penguin but that bird won’t learn to fly.
You can tell me all the stories you want and swear that they aren’t lies,
But you cannot change the truths I’ve seen with these tearful eyes.
In the labyrinth of my mind, I reflect on my life thus far.
Not only a reflection of my thoughts and feelings, but a soul searching.
Totally wrapped in my contemplation, I have fallen inward.
Reality is slipping away and I am buried in the pondering of my life.
On examination it surely has been a tangled path that I have travelled.
Seeking my reason for existence, I am immersed in a whirlwind.
Preoccupied, I dwell in a meditative trance brooding and musing.
Examining one's life is painful and the answers not always easy to accept.
Coming to terms with the past is a tearful journey back in time.
To look inside one self takes courage and truthfulness.
In me are many feelings long buried that are screaming to be revealed.
On my bed, I lay weeping and lost it seems in scenes I want to push away.
No, it is not easy to retreat into one's mind for introspection and absolution.
________________________________
June 23, 2016
Poetry/Acrostic/INTROSPECTION
Copyright Protected, ID 16-803-695-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Introspection- Acrostic
sponsor, John Hamilton
Third Place
What if the whole street blithely celebrates
What if the neighbours quaintly decorate
What if the well wishers advocate
" Oh ho! Life has to move on, Forget!"
It's we, agonizing over the happy days gone
Pondering on the deeds you gleefully did in
the festive seasons, the dress you donned
Our bountiful Pongal pot you spotlessly adorned
Don't you fathom it's immensely tough for us
To celebrate any festival with same zest?
On our exaltation graph, after your demise, no crests
Bracing smiling mask, they see tearful face lest
So, Appa, what if the whole street celebrates!
Can't you see our minds still exacerbate!
Emotions of incompatible severance ebb my spirits
Taking me into a world that no one has ever been
Upon nights of deplorable torment I see the unseen
Darkness wills me over and tears my heart away
As I feel the hot, sticky tears crawl down my face
Pressed against the scorching window I gaze into high heavens
Pain dispersing through and avalanching my tearful eyes
There’s a supernatural pressure pervading my soul
Nothing makes sense anymore…my poetry is dying!
The world in which I find myself is constantly fighting
With emotions unchangeable…horrible…plighting
I would kill them all to feel the one I shall never have
I would kill myself to make the oceans part again
Till then, let the pieces of me float gently in red waters
Flowing seams taking me through; eels eerily watching
Making me covet for action, to feel each satisfaction
I want the anything, impossible to grasp
My hands are hooves, I can barely hold you
I can’t get out of this world; can’t escape the blue
Zigzagged rhyming, bad timing…hating me
Just cutting me more and festering harboring the pain
The white blood cells are against me, blooming insanity
And like a dump the junk increases and sinks into holes
Sticky soil of dead corpses lifting the infection killing me
Not enough; I’m still here…black, bloodied flakes
I can’t hold on…my gory hooves are splintering in the coagulation
My mind's eye is murdering my soul…aching…raping
My head is still pressed against the window
My mood eyes are set on the sun’s hemorrhage
Piano fingers pressed on the crackling glass
We’re shattering in this world of mine…I’m dying!
What a world, what a world
I’m plunging down into the sea as the snake snout finds me
The eels welcome me as I sink into their homes
Snap! Snap! Silent snapping of the flesh! Hear it?
Lost in the brackish wetness of eternal sleep
Not even aware they are eating me…everything—
Save my heart; it’s still there…can you see?
It has fallen even deeper, settling on the bitter bottom seafloor
What a world, thumps the heart
See what my world did to me
she had no reaction as I entered the room my mother
had no clue I just ran up two flights of stairs
though she did gaze at me as if to say what’s your point
her words making a feeble attempt to pass through lips
that drooped and appeared quite numb
her wanting stare the polaroid of a child
gone now are the days when I would come as child
to her for guidance to my nurturing mother
I being naïve to the stepping stones before me and numb
to the task of climbing the steep stairs
of love and life while hiding behind pouted lips
that came from having no vision of a starting point
if I might add to this ample point
how life can include the transition from parent to child
child to parent a passing confirmed by the placing of lips
against the brow for her to understand my beloved mother
these final steps of ascension upon heavenly stairs
will not be wrought with the painful and numb
the challenge I now face cannot leave me numb
and never will it take me to a breaking point
though I may weep as I ascend these stairs
still the role I must play shall make me more than child
but never a figure as broad as her my dear mother
for to serve and defend her these would not be passive lips
my mind became dry and parched like the lips
of a thirsty minion as my heart examined the numb
cold sense that I might lose her my precious mother
for this crossroad of life has brought me to that point
of revelation where true love demands that I the child
find the strength to carry us both up these final flights of stairs
the strain of her final ascent upon these stairs
shall not bring a shred of doubt from my lips
I will draw my strength from being that loving child
whom she bestowed the gift of life but kept numb
the thought that I might have been a burden that blocked her point
of direction or dreams my beloved mother
and now my mother my friend a last kiss from tearful lips
for we’ve reached the top of the stairs and my heart though numb
knows full well from this point on the true love between parent and child
We cringe with the icy cold
Wind blowing away the foggy cloud,
Drifting off into the tearful sleep
At noon and at night illusions keep,
Hearts wrapped with chimeric dreams.
Decisions glow in the warmest flames
Winding through the fading moonlight.
With the strongest part of human act
The heart is beautiful and tragic.
Where most of our emotions are kept
Lock in secure places of fragile concept.
It takes more than actions to beat,
The billions of ambushes we defeat,
No weapons formed can break it down,
Stoney faces or the bewildered frown.
Insults and virtues comes out fighting
Crush it by love and sparks be igniting
Millions of beautiful stars around the globe,
The spoken word, letters in the envelope.
Push it into retreat and it will wait
Patiently encamp, outside the gate,
The heart is trustworthy, but beware
Of the snares, the conditional flare.
It takes only a single moment of betrayal
For the unconquered walls to fall
The kind that stay with the strain,
Live and strive, and self-esteem regain
Lie bruised in the dust, to heal inside
Find hope where the strong hearts hide,
The treasures of comforting bliss
Waiting to be discovered through a kiss.
I was but seven
For me, it looked like heaven
Books and books everywhere
I could only stand and stare
See, it is the library, said mom
It is here, known as the books' kingdom
You can choose a book, we shall read it together
Then we shall take another one when we will be over
I was overjoyed, especially when we visited it the second time
Why, I was sure, "Book Lover" was my other name
But hey, mom left me to read
For she had things to buy, things like rice and bread
I sat at a table, looking as cute as any seven year old
I sat with a book of cartoons, feeling oh so bold
When, hey, the room started to be sprinkled with stars
And appeared in a corner, a silvery door, which was kept ajar
I watched, mesmerized
And saw her coming, the princess of books
For scaring me, she apologized
And, with a swipe of her hand, gave me her looks
She was most beautiful
As beautiful as a fairy, so graceful
I happened to glance in a mirror
And saw that I shone with the same splendor
She took me through that door and I spent moments of magic
I talked to characters having been brought to life
I dived into books, played with witches' sticks
Why, of the magic of books, I did get some proof
I even had pictures taken with my heroes
Pictures which they would keep safe in their drawers
They even promised to come and visit me
When night fell, when the world's eyelids, with sleep, will turn heavy
Wow! It was so wonderful
I returned later to find my mom looking so tearful
She thought she had lost me
She knew not of my magical world, of my magic city!
Now, each time I do visit the library
I go pay a visit to the beautiful fairy
I do still play with all my magical friends
Yes, even as an adult, I do still dance with them while holding their hands
6th August 2015