Allow what is complex to unravel
it may repair what was left crumpled;
Imagine the power of romantic ideas;
Just one kiss could instigate ideas;
Pain dissipates and will deftly unravel
giving flight to hope that crumpled;
A cautious repair to what was crumpled
be patient listen to those shy ideas;
Allow a sensitive soul to slowly unravel;
Attentively unravel those crumpled ideas.
Hidden Shapes
David J Walker
Hidden shapes assured of shadows
Haunting
lingering
From a shared past
A scant vision
of tomorrow
A bitter tankard of
borrowed sorrow
Where do I begin
to repair to my
Entitlement
Dust, sweep and mop
Run to three or four shops
Polish silver 'til it shines
Did we forget to buy wine
Countdown to Sabbath's begun
So many chores to be done
Ready or not, it's time to bench licht*
Friday goes by dizzy quick...
Now the Sabbath does appear
On dove's wings of purest cheer
Our tired feelings dissipate
Blessings soothe, reinvigorate
Refresh and restore
Over holy books we pore
Eat delicacies and treats
Meals pleasant and sweet
Time now to repair to sleep
To relax and dream dreams deep
Of Sabbaths wrapped in mists of yore ~
Messianic Era to point toward
__________________________________
*to bench licht is Yiddish. It means to light
candles (for the Sabbath or a Festival) with
a blessing. 'Licht' is pronounced as a
guttural, more like 'kh' as in the Russian
'khorosho,' 'good.' It is not pronounced like
the 'ch' in 'chin' or in 'Chicago.'
There’s a part of me that say’s I’m jealous
Another thinks my golfing friends just zealous,
Whilst I crave fresh air and healthy motion
They’re busy slathering on the lotion
Before they mount some little cart
That with intent they simply point to dart
At breakneck speed from hole to hole
The putting of that little ball the goal.
Then there’s the clubs, that myriad bunch
The choice of which for them the crunch,
To make the shot or fail once more
Blaming each for that bad score.
Tortured, ruffled, discontent,
They soon repair to that drinks tent
To then replay the whole long game
Masterful excuses quickly turning lame.
But here’s the crunch and my dilemma
The doubt that heightens my antenna,
What are they hiding, sharing not a bit
Of why such torture never makes them quit,
Instead they plan and scheme each waking hour
For that free day the calendar they scour,
When they once more may hold that special club
With surging will some dainty green to stub.
“It’s hard asking someone with a broken heart to fall in love again.” – Eric Kripke
I'll excuse you for not being ready to give
Your broken heart to me. I could see it bleeding
Right through your eyes. Its also in...
Your voice, your fragile smile, your body language
My sweet, I promise to give your heart all the time it needs
To repair, to beat, without skipping beats
I'd love more than anything to put a tourniquet
On it to stem the steady hemorrhaging
To make it smile the way it used to
For me, for the whole human race
Submitted for...
''H'' Contest, New Or Old Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Original Titie: Broken Bleeding Heart
Theme: Heartbroken
Date: 09/07/2021
Date originally written : 07/19/2019
Exploring secrets of the enigmatic veiled nature ,
And enthusiastically glorifying strange ways of
almighty,
I traversed as a liberated soul.
Until you stepped into my life and stole my
thunder,
And stood invariably at the receiving end,
Kept me on the horns of dilemma.
That extravagant obsession that I now detest,
Conferred me countless sleepless nights,
Where I kept counting stars in the sky.
Nature repairs her ravages, but not all,
Uptorn trees are not rooted again, parted hills left
scarred,
No thorough repair to the eyes that have dwelt in
the past......... in those sleepless nights !!
Tell me please why do i have to live you if there ain't a reason to carry on,
show me please the way to live you with content only because i am surviving,
why is it that sorrow is more than joy? , why there are so many reasons to cry?
Teach me please a lesson of magic which can erase the despair,
do some repair to the lost and confused souls living you,
don't say...
“i am not forcing you, can live me as long as you want to”
coz this time there is no forgiving you.
Explain me please your idea of living, may i ask “why are you not so giving? ”
unanswered questions i gather, ignorance is all you delivered,
better keep quiet rather, silence is all you muttered.
Answer me please or am i talking to me? Have you a feeling for us? May be you like to see
the dismayed us....
may be there isn't a place anywhere for us....this certainly isn't the end of us...
as you guarantee to abandon us.
Give me please a reason as the more i know you the more stupid you make me,
funny is the way you fool me,
don't know why people say “you are beautiful”,
when for most....living you isn't really wonderful.
I sing, I sing with a scarless moon
I fear, I fear this will end too soon
I cry, I cry with blood-tinged tears
And now, and now we shall face our fears
I feel, I feel the shadows of darkness
Surround, surround to all our dislikings
Destroy, destroy all the kindness
Repair, repair to all of our sorrows
Whisper, to whisper Heart to heart
Until only Death can rip our dreams apart.....
Amongst the buttercups and daisies
Afore the early rising sun
Is where you’ll find wet fairy tears
Glistening on your lawn.
They lay as drips on blades of grass
They soak your shoes and feet
They’re where you’ve trampled once again
Then gone indoors to eat.
Then fairies they come out to play
And dance under the stars
And mischievous elves will prank around
While firefly drive like cars.
But when they see how much that we
Have damaged their small world
The fairy drops to ground and weeps
Their magic’s been unfurled.
The little dew drops gently left
Are fairy tears my friend
For with sun and magic of natures hand
Comes repair to make amend.
Be carful where you put your foot
A fairy might live and care
So be polite when you are asked
Keep off the grass walk there.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.