Remains Poems - Poems about Remains

"I'm not sure if the love that brought us together was worth the pain that tore us apart." ~ Boomsumo.com I have to unlearn what some label 'love' not the kind that coos like a turtle dove That's the type of romance that makes you dance But I was struck by lightning from above with emotions that never had...

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T-he H-eart E-mbraces A-ll M-emories A-bout R-emembered I-mages A-s L-ove C-ontinuously A-dorns N-ostalgic T-imelines A-nd R-ewinded A-nnals ©bfa062925 Monocrostic (Birthday of Thea Mari S. Alcantara)...

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T-ill I-nspiration N-aturally L-asts A-mid U-nspoken R-esignation I-t O-vercomes ©bfa061825 Monocrostic (Birthday of Tin Laurio)...

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On Sky shielded palm, When sun couldn't make rain calm... Nothing remains so. At Moon subtle cheek, When stars wouldn't look that weak, Nothing remains so. Over running days... When strength couldn't make nice hays, Nothing so remains. Behind crawling nights... When nerves wouldn't silent frights, Nothing so remains. Around oily shrine... When deities couldn't dare dine, So remains nothing. Far burnt sacrifice- Baal failed; Elijah suffice, So remains nothing. Like ... Light,...

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M-emories A-lways E-mbrace M-an's E-motional L-ife I-n T-ime, A-nd N-ever T-o E-vaporate ©bfa051625 Monocrostic (Birthday of Mae Melitante)...

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I’ve kept the bone-ash circle open— chalked in wax traced from your last reply, the one you coughed out sideways between a mirror and an echo, Just to reiterate, it read. (Though you’ve unsent it now— the smoke still mouths it back.) The salt forgets which door to guard, whether you're enemy or friend. My tea leaves knot themselves into nooses. The knife won’t...

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D-elicate A-roma I-s S-ubtly Y-ielding B-right O-utlooks, S-till Q-uiet U-nderstanding I-n L-ife L-ets O-ptimism S-tay ©bfa042525 Monocrostic (Birthday of Daisy D. Bosquillos) ...

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Look what we've done But why did you? Look, we've done it But should we have? Why this first? To be more heard. Just because we could? We'll describe. So what about evolution? What about it? Is it not the rule? Who’s to say? Was it necessary? We’ll justify it. But in the silence The howl remains....

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People ask as they wonder, what holds you? Is it fear? Is it doubt? Is it distrust? or is it all or neither? A flower is brought into this world amidst chaos unknowingly what it may encounter yet it remains pure. Confined by discourtesy trickled by irregularities lured by fallacies yet stands still as nature's gift as it shimmers brightly....

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The jar remains still, dressed in its glass mantle like a snow globe of silent forgetting, each broken part of me lies there, floating in my warm and crimson waters, a lake of lost memories, a mirror of the soul seeking to find itself again. I open the jar and try to fit each piece into the deep...

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Love is not a lonely island— not the silence between two chairs, but the song sung in unison across a shared table. It is celebration, not separation; a dance where both souls move in rhythm, not apart but entwined. We know love because God did not shout from across eternity— He came close, whispering, I am with you always. Not once. Always. Presence, not absence. Bridges, not walls. Love builds roads where feet can meet, hands can...

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I crossed the archives as one walks through a field of ruins. Decrees were bones, dogmas were nails. Kings signed treaties in ink darker than darkness, a pact forged in daggers. Papal bulls oozed blood beneath God's varnish. Codes etched the systematic animalization into stone. They legislated hell, administered suffering, theorized the slaughterhouse. Even science became an executioner, draping contempt in formulas...

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You ask what remains after emotions have flowed like sand through an hourglass? Just a pair of eyes that now look only to see, not to feel, not to remember the echo of yesterday, without a trace of the past, without the outline of the future, just the suspended moment. A tongue dried of words, not of silence, but...

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The slow rising sun just behind the row of pines. The quiet bending branch reaching over an ice-frosted bridge. An early morning walk down by the snow covered creek with your lover's arm protectively hooked around your waist and it begins to snow once again. Simple things worth your attention; like soul-stirring books pastels in early Spring rust and moss-green train...

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You died. And nothing happened. No whisper. No light. No shift in the air. Only the room— exactly as it was, minus you. I stood there, expecting something. A crack in the fabric. A sign. A sound. Anything. But all I found was stillness carrying on without effort, without care. They spoke your name as if it held weight. But even that faded before the echo could finish. No afterlife. No message. No you. Just a body emptied and a silence that doesn’t remember what...

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