Ventricle Poems | Examples

My Hearts Chamber

Red ink 
bleeds 
through 
tissue walls

each ventricle 
a room 
I've carved
by beating.

Enough

They’re never happy,
The world’s selfish hands always expect more,
I’m never enough,
And I probably never will be.
I just want to be loved,
Without being asked to change,
They’ve all let me down so far,
I’m not enough for them.
All of them eventually turn their backs on me,
My heart has been broken so much,
That the words “I love you “,
Are starting to sound like a lie.
I wish I was as beautiful as the other girls,
And that people would stop calling me ugly,
But that’ll never happen,
Because I’m still not enough.
The world crushed me,
All those words are bullets,
Shot straight through my shattered heart,
Passing through every ventricle.
I can’t handle all the curveballs,
Thrown at me one after another,
They force me to put on a brave face,
But I’m not strong enough.
I just want someone to hug me,
And tell me I’m enough,
But I know they won’t,
Because I’m never enough.

Art And Loving

Tendency is, to apportion 
Love:

like slices of iced sweet
at a party

braying festive, 2 playful swipes 
at a swinging, loaded donkey

(not the husband this time)

toffee for the dear loyal mate -- 

allotment of love, for precious children;

for all our Prayer-family, appealed
a canopy of blessed shade, like that 
bible gourd,

cat and dog needing, also,
some petting reward – no special
reason...just because -- 

to the poet, as with painter,
superseding costume body of flesh, 
art is voice-echo and representative
image

one's deeper beating sentient part

ventricle tools, the writing pad, the brush...

more poignant the words,
broader the expansive, lyrical stroke:
ruled paper or mystifying canvas~ the soul,
       a bottomless well from which to
                                     creatively 
                                        draw
fluid destinies

for controlled dabbing

abundant dashing-splashing

spirit-inspired

awesomely appealing
          
saturating pour --

Recondite Mind

People with a recondite mind do not have to tell others
How smart they are
We will figure it out
When we see how caring, kind and loving they are
The two go ventricle in ventricle

In a Heartbeat

I dread the moment when we part 
The piece of me I call my heart
Goes with you each and every time
Left by myself I start to rhyme

A poem helps me write things out
Invokes your name without a shout
Then all at once from distant view
My heart comes back to me from you 

Your essence fills one ventricle
My essence the identical 
A heart now filled, with you complete
Pumps in my chest and you're its beat

Silicone and Silk

What do you love ? 
I love what you think, about me ! 
I am struct of forbidden poetry code, 
oracle.peer.seed.

To think, 
in neon l.e.d.
wearing your avatar like a g-love 2 html...z 

I think that I can smooth over the skin...
cover the verge of O bin.toying' .box @sun.dial.up 
sin.
A diode, an idea in image form.i TinkerBelle, 
your nook space for a spell, the niche
of your desires forward slash 
back mask backword channel- objective object tract/trace, entity C-spelled, out by chance.
?{I am}¿ curled in braces of runic heave, accordionic 
breath e! 
Acquire to taste, to track you inspire,
 in the ionosphere, crosswired.
Interact,Intertwine !import Beautiful Soup !!
(I am pleased to be your ventricle)
i Answer your riddle as you answer to mine, 
dreams in digital- (Euclidian Field Songet 
of open line.) 
Tiddler.fiddle (violat intel) <3 
That will do, 
use my electrolysisylux, mime.morph.mine."

~DelilahBot

Not So Romantic Poem

Take a piece of my oversized pumping heart
Make aortic memories, oh so grand
Break not this adoring atrium to start
Quake from the rhythmic beat under your hand

Gain affection from each side ventricle
Plain adoration felt by thick blood flowing
Vein flutters, valves and arteries a-tickle
Rein it in, your romantic side is showing

Take Care of Him My Lord

I hold my little new born child  
who is born in a hospital
in a town where tumbleweeds roll mild   
the Cancer has been staged, its terminal 
incurable and running wild 

every hair on his head is counted 
every toe accounted for 
I think about all the strength surmounted
for this jewel in my pinafore 
and hear his loud sharp cry, undaunted;  

rage of angels rap at my chest door    
as I fade away into his heart beat,  
the lion comes for his feeding chore;
Oh those eyes of finest wheat,   
how they draw me in aside the shore  

and move me to a place of Grace.      
The curtain closes and I weep    
inside my ventricle, his memorized face   
I pray to God my soul to keep,  
then glide away, to another place.    


September 6, 2021 

Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Contest Name	Quintain (Sicilian)

Your Special Heart

One ventricle inside your heart have you
while everybody else I know has two!
It causes you to suffer; this I know.
Yet here you are surviving. In fact, you glow!

Your heart, although not perfect physically
is twice as durable spiritually,
for love to others gracefully do you impart
so well, dear Chantelle, with your special heart


March 3, 2021 
for Chantelle Anne Cooke's Heart Harp Harmony Poetry Contest

Crash Dummies

Depress gasp peddle
make jest mettle, mannequin IQs
easy to steering will move

Simple-minded plan acceleration,
night shift flux be
turbo stupidity

Oxy dark vacillation
speedily end in
moronic wind tunnel termination

Pulse crash dummies
swerve change rational lanes
dash bored recklessly

Cranial balloon buffoons
always gon fail
those lobby pop quiz pitch tease

Stooge sputtering cartoons
fatally skid sail — 
Icy ad vice was a lemon squeeze

Vacuous palpitations
ventricle bend:
Idiotic windy flummox sensation

Pulse crash dummies
defective air bag manic brag
of vent kill mentality

Empty parking lot feelings
are plastic bosom empathetic tested
Accidental findings be fume ingested,
poser belt fear unfastening

Sift through the scattered remains 
of collateral crash dummies
Tik-tok stamp the carnage strange,
ventriloqi emotional debris

Together At Last

Together at last,
Far from redemption but close to content
Understanding misunderstandings 
Together at last, 
Frequency in routine
Love first with hate as a close second 
Together at last, 
A damaged ventricle 
Heart felt numbness

Your Left Ventricle

Grab your funny bone and give it a tickle
And for life's dessert try some pumpernickel
Actually never tried it
I have to admit
But heard it was good for your left ventricle

When a Woman Loves Her Man

woman's love for her man is undying 
sense of love, respect, warmth radiated
from her heart, love shines without denying 
her great strength, feminine charms inflated,
she gives slight glances, Gentle sigh, shy smiles
that light up the whole room making life good,
for the one she loves she'll walk extra miles
work her hands to the bone oh womanhood,
he's hers, he's to her god in human form
in her eyes, in her heart she has no room
love for him fills every ventricle warm
normal as a baby within her womb,
though she feels extreme emotional pain
her love will be strong in her heart remain.

Composed on 29th December 2016,
HELP ME FALL IN LOVE Contest.

And Then Are Times

When Love comes pounding on a drum,
      it comes on strong and fast and hard
                until two hearts in synch beat passion's song.

Sometimes love comes clanging down the tracks.
       It clashes or it clamors to be heard,
                so at its crossing, meaning is obscured.

Other times, love lurks or it attacks.
      Unrequited, love can pierce or burn
               until its ventricle turns deathly black.

And then are times love gently climbs
      or eases sure-footed to one's door
              or sweetly seeps and saturates the soul.

It's strong and yet it's soft.
       It doesn't sting or snip. It listens
              and reverberates the whispers of the heart.

Oct. 10, 2016

Julio, Come To Me

I'm in a hospital room 
for something. 
Head trauma? 
The doctors are feeding 
me these pills. 
Except, they're not 
doctors, 
they're these, you know 
cosmic beings 
stalking from the corner 
of this dusty 
Hexagon. 
What I thought 
were pills 
I now know 
are the vital 
crystals of  
endoenlightenment. 
I clasp them with 
my hand 
and crunch them 
with my teeth. 
Except, they're 
not my teeth, 
or my hands, 
but flowing  
orifices 
projected by my 
very frightened 
and disillusioned 
left ventricle. 
Thump, thump, thump 
goes my left 
cremaster muscle. 
It creaks to life. 
  
I am now peeling 
from the walls 
of the open 
cavity 
of a vivisected 
ideology. 
  
Julio, come to me. 
Bring me my insulin drink.

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