Long Tearstained Poems
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Pain
Tears
Hope
And desperation
An emotional piece of rag
That's what I've become
Tears splash down on my books
I smear my neatly written
physics notes
Down on my table
I put my head slowly
I hear those little voices
"You can do better", they say
"But how do I get
myself out of this mess?" I ask
The voices don't answer back
Screaming inside
I let out a meek little sigh
Again,
trying to swim against
the rough sea of agony,
my voice seething in anger,
I call,
"Care to answer back?"
Then oh,
I see my carefree,
careless self
look at me in wonder.
She calls out teasingly
"Is this really you?
My girl has become serious"
Breaking the restraint,
my lips twitch
revealing that little smile
dancing on my lips.
You see,
I do love this life of mine;
a bittersweet delight
Dreams,
little rays of hope,
tearstained pages
of those
tiresome physics problems
call me
to make sure
all of it
was not in vain
walking alone with my memories and a tearstained heart
watching the water and thinking about Her
there is nobody here and the chill and the quiet is a perfect combination
the makeshift Christmas tree on the sand makes me laugh for short spell
wishes and regrets then creep up on me and steal me again
i am on spaghetti legs but remain Bountifully Blessed
the water senses my level of unbalance and doctors me back straight
i walk along and reminisce about the company that now dwells in heaven
the skies are blue and the sun is elated
despite the wind being unforgiving, i feel its guaranteed embrace
so many songs pop into my head
i am a snaggletoothed little boy again, impatient and full of energy
i hear you now firmly telling me to go and unpack
now i hear no voices
now i am forever wounded due to my choices
nevertheless i have maternal healing hands that are Heavenly Dipped and Infinitely Divine to reassure me
my walk becomes more confidently erect
my heart beats with pride and valor, pumping the tearstains away
If heartbreak were the canvas I was painting upon then you were my muse, and my hearts bleeding was the paint that was used
There was more than enough blood and tears to create an award-winning portfolio, depicting every word that was said, every torturous blow
The color of my saddened eyes, the dullness behind their stare, almost the color of nothing at all, just emptiness and despair
The tearstained cheeks no longer a rosy hue, now flushed with the feeling of shock from being slapped when they were dealt the cold hard truth
The pink, luscious lips that once stained your own the same shade, are now an icy blue my entire being has succumbed to the pain
A once vibrant girl now has turned as hard as marble but still as delicate as a shard of glass, she has nothing left within her just a wisp of a breath intact
You were my love, a beautiful piece of art, something my mind could never have captured your essence, your heart
I guess that is why I am painting what it is that I know best, the feelings that I alone clasp onto within my chest
I wanted for you to be my masterpiece and I wished to be yours to own, but an artist can’t create beauty all alone
My art is called heartbreak it is my most treasured, tragic piece, it depicts the love that you once gave to me and I to you, but mine you wished not to keep
So, I place you upon my wall so that I may look at you every day and remind myself that love hurts and that a heart can break.
You’re all in charge of authoring a story
Of love and humor, suspense and glory
You’re writing starts with your very first thought
And doesn’t end til your life is naught.
Know, My Dears, these books; your own
There are no cowriters; authors unknown
Flip those pages and make your quills dance
Miss no opportunities, take a chance
If somewhere in those thick tomes of yours
You have questions “whys and what fors?”
Do not ponder and then overthink
For there’s no such thing as permanent ink
There will be some tearstained pages
Most likely in your middle ages
There will be words you’d like to forget
Or phrases in which you may regret
But when it reaches the golden stage
The best of the story in a later page
Grab a pencil and throw some sparks
And don’t be afraid of eraser marks
Then once it’s written and you do find
There was a time of hurt when life’s unkind
Go ahead and toss out awful chapters
Because Momma loves Happily Ever Afters
Etching tales that run in trails along a parchment sheet
From feathered quill in trembling hand so longing now for sleep
As black ink drips down from the lip that rounds the pewter well
While a raven watches from his perch on the windowsill
Fluttering flames dance above a pool of cooling wax
As the candle wanes away against a night of velvet black
Recalling long lost love again by the glow of candlelight
In a dreamlike state the poet writes… long into the night
Smouldering eyes upon the joy and sorrow of his life
Alone but for his tears the poet writes and writes and writes
Until he finds her there upon the shore of Evermore
Standing at the foot of heaven’s door… his sweet Lenore
His name a whisper on her lips above the ocean roar
Until the well runs dry and the poet writes no more
A broken quill on tearstained parchment in the early dawn
But the poem he wrote that velvet night…still lives on and on.
A Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe
Author: Elaine Cecelia George
As girls, we learned the art of putting on makeup
From our mothers and sisters and aunts, those women
Who cared for us and kept us from creating pictures
Of clown masks on our velvety soft faces, which bled
Sincerity and serenity, dreams of what would be
Someday, when we left the women who molded us
To become women ourselves, women who feel
Love beckoning from our hearts and spirits, thriving
Completing our hopes for a home that is filled with
Gentle intimacy and inspiration, dreams coming alive
With the mystery and secrecy of a promised vision
Filled with gladness, whispering reveries of compassion
That arouses the fires of faith and flavors the intense
Brilliant light of sunrise with flickers of wisdom, strength
And thanks for all that has been and will be again
Love that betrays us when we look into a mirror
See the smudge of tearstained mascara lingering there
Where our hearts reveal the silent tenderness that melts
All bitterness or resentment with pure kindness, ardor
For the ones who we believe will always know our souls
Truth sent down from heaven to encourage us to always
Be the girls, the women, the hearts – who love unconditionally!
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (22) ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
August 14, 2020
Pain’s Tomorrow
Why dost the hand of love surround my throat
hold hostage by each breath - lost passions hope -
imprison me within hot blooded moat
tethered agony - heartaches tearstained rope?
Couldst not the gods if they held such powers
release from bondage love’s extinguished flame
allow the blessing of times healing hours
erase the hollowed emptiness of shame?
For love has stolen love - left me wand’ring
within the emptiness of mem’ry’s dreams,
victims - guilt shared – complicit squandering
soft truth beneath the lies of lustful schemes.
Yet they reach beyond the pale of sorrow
lover’s - hope in search of pains tomorrow.
8/1/2016
submitted to – All I could do was surrender – Shakespearian Sonnet – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Becca Teagan
it has been a while since i was here
i have been blocked from every side of every angle in every way
i still take pictures of the waterfront for therapy and contentment
yet and still i am lonely and cannot find the cure
it has been a while since you were here
you decided to leave the norm that you knew and write a new story
you leaned more towards the unknown and the unfamiliar
yet and still here you are knocking on my door with tearstained knuckles
it has been a while since we were both here
together we discovered keys long buried in the instantaneous inflation of time
in our personal journeys we learned that we are better together than apart
at the fork in the road of life, we smile as we begin another guessing game
Aching, trembling like the dewdrop as it slides, wistful, across a petal… down a tearstained cheek – our ancestor’s heart’s quake ~ quote by author
Wrinkled now, thoughts carved out - all in the past
like the graying hairs left, heaven's forecast
reminding his dreams that their time has passed
autumn leaves, falling softly in contrast
stirring winter's icy cold, all aghast
darkest shadows breaking through to holdfast
weakened by the years, heartfelt tears, harassed
changes in hues of life's sorrows, at last
death welcomes those who heaven surely asked
MonoMixoRhyme Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
December 6, 2022
“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.”
~ William Wordsworth
What a peaceful sense of harmony I would feel
if the greatest moments in my dreams were real.
Those tender times together when we made love
are the thoughts I care about being reminiscent of.
I wake as dawn's luminance gently touches my face
and find I'm all alone. Of him, there's not a trace.
Again, I am conflicted, and my eyes seek in askance,
Am I to live in discontent without another romance?
I write of love to assuage the sorrow in my heart
but my pen and ink create tearstained works of art.
I've many pages of Sonnets written in lyrical rhyme,
Intimate lines of us when life was a melodic time.
One day love may find me again, outside of a dream.
A man whose eyes look at me and set mine agleam.
Whose touch makes me shiver, taking my breath away.
There will be harmony between us, we'll lovingly convey.
February 27, 2023
Writing Challenge ~ H Words Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France