I heard the quiet breaking of your heart
soft as rain against a darkened room
I stood in the doorway (cracked slightly) asking only
if there was space enough for me to come in and talk
You said you were alright through falling tears
but pain had made your voice too small to hide
So, I sat with you in the tender moment
and let the storm spend itself inside
We spoke until the night grew comfortable
until your sorrow loosened little by little
And when I told you I had cared for years
it was not to claim you, only to be truthful
For love, if it is worthy of its name
does not rush a wounded heart along
It waits beside your heart with open hands
and whispers, "I have loved you since we were young"
Beneath the rippled, sunlit glass,
I rest among the eelgrass blades,
A shadowed world where currents pass
Through quiet, emerald-tinted glades.
A gentle pulse draws in the tide,
Through open folds, the feast is spun;
I sift the sea where currents glide,
And take the bounty of the sun.
A sudden rush—a snapping spark—
I lift and dance upon the floor,
And vanish swiftly in the dark
To settle on the sandy shore.
Here, safe within my textured walls,
Away from cruising shadow’s eye,
Where peace defines the quiet halls,
The rushing world may wander by.
Adorned in ribbed and fluted grace,
Where painted bands of pink align
With lavender across my face,
The ocean's quiet masterpiece—
A living scallop...resting.
It arrives not as a slow dawn, but a fracture—
A sudden, violent tearing of the gray,
Where neurotransmitters leap in manufactured rapture,
And logic bends to the blinding light of day.
It is a temporary kingdom built on air,
A frantic, soaring, breathless, desperate high,
Ignoring the foundation of despair,
To watch the mundane world dwindle and die.
The heart becomes a drum with an accelerated beat,
Distorting time until the seconds, stretch and bend,
A breathless rush, a sweet and sharp deceit,
That promises a joy without an end.
It is the apex where the self dissolves,
A chemical, ethereal, phantom grace,
Where gravity loses its hold, and ego solves,
Into a momentary, breathless, liminal space.
But at its peak, the architecture starts to lean,
For all ascension mandates a return,
The higher the flight, the deeper the machine
Must crash when the bright, burning engines turn.
Euphoria is a loan, a borrowed debt,
A fleeting, dazzling, brilliant, stolen breath,
That leaves the trembling, wakeful mind to fret,
In the quiet, cold, inevitable aftermath of death.
1442 Contest 2-1-26 Aubergine is a deep purple color.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1442
In a midnight jubilee of snows
When Aurora's magic flows
In her empty realm of white
Her colors leap in ebbs and flows.
Her magic splashes through the nights
She decorates with neon delights
A chartreuse rush - a ruby storm
Gossamer flashes soar the heights.
Electric flares born from solar storms
Gather in her slender forms
With corals, reds and shapes of greens
Her artic light show, new art forms.
Through this portal - dark astral scenes -
Her kaleidoscope flies and then careens
In waves of handsprings through glacial skies
And love notes written in aubergines.
Oh! To wish of a far-away land,
Where flowers of all colours bloom without fear,
The colours that our eyes can meet,
Of all the dreams we left unseen.
Oh! To wish of a serene icy lake,
Where the ice sparkles at the morning rays,
The rays of sunshine we beseeched,
Of all the people we left behind in memories.
Oh! To wish of a majestic forest,
Where the canopies are taller than our hopes,
The leaves protecting our inner souls,
Of all the rumination we cannot forsee.
Oh! To be so wishful in existence,
Where the whims of emotions rush a breeze,
The wind reminding us of our liveliness,
Of all in this world we can imagine and be.
The sugar bowl proverbial.
The sweetness of sharing
what you have; a tight hug.
Don’t share the leaves,
in your own yard, nor the weeds.
Don’t rush a neighbor’s demise.
Don’t overstay;
time is valuable -
boundaries sans fence.
A good neighbor is not perfect,
are you? Jesus tells us, true,
“Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Don’t be greedy with your smile,
your wave - it can be a pick-me-up,
same as coffee to the drowsy.
You may miss
the borrowed book, leaf blower, eggs
but your countenance glows from the inside-out.
Bottom line:
be a good neighbor;
neighborly advice.
5/7/2023
When it is in your power,
don’t withhold good from the one to whom it belongs.
Don’t say to your neighbor, “Go away! Come back later.
I’ll give it tomorrow “ — when it is there with you.
Don’t plan any harm against your neighbor,
for he trusts you and lives near you.
Proverbs 3:27-29 CSB
I’m stranded here, a lonely isle.
The waters rush, a whelming trial.
I’m fearful, Lord, my heart does ache;
Let not the waters overtake.
You lead me to the waters still,
Yet I disturb them with my will.
When I lie down and when I wake,
Let not the waters overtake.
Like Peter, Lord, I’ll leave the boat,
But without You, I scarce can float.
Extend a hand for thine own sake;
Let not the waters overtake.
My Lord, a rock on which I stand.
Jordan recedes; on promised land.
Your firm foundation will not shake;
The waters shall not overtake.
----------
for the A Kyrielle About Water Poetry Contest
sponsored by Kim Rodrigues
written 08/08/2022
The high-pitched sound of steel on steel
screeches where the tracks meet the wheel.
The train station seems somewhat stark
as shifting shadows stalk the dark.
The train rumbles in, and she tries
to be brave, yet she softly cries.
Taking my hand in hers, she smiles
and says love can stretch many miles.
We found love while on vacation,
but will it last past this station?
She clings to me like morning dew,
and yet, there's nothing we can do.
The conductor calls out, "last call,"
as the Night dons a misty shawl.
And we rush a teary farewell,
as the train whistles, time's death knell.
I see her wave a sad goodbye
that breaks my heart and makes me cry.
And as the train increases speed,
I pray that God will intercede.
Footnotes to the crime
mankind divided the ruination
of the kingdom
earth bleeding into Stardust
a time lost and forgotten
in footnotes to the crime
desolation prime
time is at hand the real ruination
of man division of this land
the lost kingdoms of the earth
tragic in scope leading
in the cosmic rush a footnote
to the crime
eons are crushed as humanity
is only a footnote in history!
Oceans Apart But Always In My Heart.
.
How I love the ocean cascading crescent waves
That gently kiss and caress the golden sands
So tenderly as I used to do to you
With warm soft pillowed lips
And my loving gentle hands
.
With feather-like teasing touches as a pleasant sea breeze
Evoking pleasurable soothing inner deep emotions
To your sensitivity I’d deliver
And make you rive and quiver
.
Awakening and arousing euphoric ecstasy
As the peaks and troths of a warm stirring ocean
With the utmost sincerity
And expressed devotion
.
The swirls in the water
Remind me of how we used to waltz the night away
And I hear in my head
How the music used to play
Among the oceans rush a
And among the spray
.
I know you can no longer hear or see me
But you still live on in my heart
And in my head
A d I recall how we one walked hand in hand on this shore
The blessed day after we were wed
And we made love that night
Upon a scattered rose petal bed
.
There may now be an ocean
That keeps us far apart
But as like as I breathe
You are never out of my mind
And always
In my heart.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
I'll walk the shoreline with you,
look behind to see, two footprints in the sand
washed away by the incoming tides,
salted air and sea foam breezes
rush a chill upon the stetched out land
looking out upon the ocean from safe land;
here lay quiet and still renewed,
buried deep within the marriage bands
all the secrets that we hide,
cast deep and burrowed yet finally eases
those memories we held within our hands
where time and love linked firmer hands;
walk a little further in the evening hues,
let dusk set the sun light where we stand
bond us together in the sea where life abides,
stand brave and bold beneath as life seizes
the light house and the harbor grand
bow to the lives we live well planned.
A crimson rush, a swollen waist
A birth betwixt, ever piling waste
The fallen stars are on their way
To tear the very light from day
A tiny splash, a buried throne
A fading siren, wailing home
A mothers hush an’ awful sound
Of feet that lift right off the ground
No words now
No air to breath
A freezing tear,
The world to grief
Hush now, my broken star
You are home
I have to admit that I'm not quite sure
Why I write poetry --Just what is the lure
But here's a stumbling stab at an explanation
An attempt to plumb the fascination:
To capture a moment, a feeling, a scene
In a magical form, pure and pristine
Be it a snowfall, a cloudburst or kiss
The thrill of getting it right is one not to miss
So there it is: It's exciting! It's a thrill!
Comparable to that of an adventurer who will
Climb Mount Everest 'just because it's there'
Or venture deep into the jungle on a friend's dare
Because there's an adrenaline rush, a feeling quite giddy
"Hurray! I've created something romantic, or uniquely witty."
So, is there something wrong with that? Something amiss?
Au contraire! To deny oneself the pleasure would be a great pity!
HAT POWER
My Hat is a rush a power to my head
wear a hat every day or as often as you are lead
hat love and hat passion I must spread
ladies without your hat, your entire look
is in shreds.
Please take note, this is not a quote
if it's not saying something,
it's doing nothing
if it's not doing anything
It's not worth nothing
my hat is a rush of power to my head.
Hat Power Yaaaasss!!!!!
As autumn begins her slow journey
leaving brilliant colors in her wake,
I think of you.
It was a crisp day in autumn that I was
first drawn to your smile, do you remember?
Your long
dark lashes lowered in a shy tender way.
My gaze was fixed on you as I breathed in your
sweet scent.
A wisp of your raven hair fell across your brow.
I wanted to reach out and brush it back for you.
Suddenly I
felt a rush, a blush bloomed on my face,
and just that fast, I fell in love.
A week
went by until I saw you again. I could barely
contain my excitement. We made plans to
have coffee.
After our rendezvous we walked in the park
with autumn displaying her brightest hues,
our enjoyment
of the colors only surpassed by our first kiss.
It wasn’t meant to be that we would stay together.
And now,
looking back at all those years ago, I remember and
*everything carries me to you.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Note* The last line of my poem is borrowed from Pablo Neruda’s
Poem “If You Forget Me”
Sub Categories
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.