"breakings" poems
words fall
like hapless fledglings
tossed from a cliff edged nest
with much screeching, squawking,
countless feathers lost
and then an awful thump
or hopeful, glorious flight
first love is tachycardiac love
all adrenaline, sweating palms
and stutter-stumbling sqeakings,
ungainly gropings,
when not with you, mopings
unrealistic hopings
for happy ever after endings,
breakings, bendings,
awkward mendings,
repeated leavings,
repented lovings.
heartfelt givings,
of broken hearted rendings.
lendings,
of time stolen from life
tearing, teasing,
tantalising teamings
crying, begging,
pleading strife
and then,
the metaphorical knife
cutting, slashing,
wordblow bashing,
screaming, reaming,
end to loves life.
til eventually, words fall,
like old birds leavings
to settle, unremarked upon
at the base of the tree of life.
first love's loss, is slow dying.
arrhythmia to flatline
in a multitude of laboured breaths
and long lingering sighs.
a loss of warmth,
from breast and thighs
and water copious,
falling from red rimed eyes.
sobbing, murmuring,
don't know whys?
from lips turned
toward,
bleakset skies.
as one settles firmly,
into black dog muck
no longer able to give a f▼ck.
tucked in tight to sadness,
lost all sight of former gladness,
caught up and shackled tight,
to the badness
around and around,
the carousel goes.
then,
at last,
the blessed silence,
as you die
one of many of....
life's little deaths
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
Poem – By Obar Mark
I'M BROKEN TO BE MORE
It’s no doubt that to feel pain is mandatory;
But to feel the suffering is not only an option but also a choice;
In heartbreak, suffering and pain, remember that being broken is humility;
So, I choose to be broken in humility.
It takes a broken soil to give a crop a life;
Don’t worry nor remain in despair while going through breakings;
Instead of crying for a lighter load, just ask for a stronger back to carry the load;
So, I choose to be broken in humility.
It takes humility to accept that your heart has been broken;
It takes ignorance to allow any man or woman to break your precious heart;
Just as it takes broken cloud to give rain and bring a new hope to huge masses;
So, I choose to be broken in humility.
In deed, broken grains give bread;
Broken bread give strength;
Likewise, God uses broken people to make great things;
So, I choose to be broken in humility.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
for L. J.
<•>
first time my heart crushed, and
pieces broke off,
and rode the interstates of my body,
the very real kind,
was somewhere
in my later teens.
many breakings came
all life long later.
remember each face.
different kinds of breakings.
some mean and ugly,
but the ones,
that made me weak and mournful,
those hurts are in a steel case kept
near my left ventricle, with copies in
my sewing box
full of handwritten poems.
you want to know if there was (like yours)
that one, that still sneak peeks
into your eye's fantasy
when you lie next to
your woman of the last decade?
thankfully, no.
but the flavors of the regret,
the highs of
pain so awful, never forgot,
are ensconced, recalled, memorialized
only in my love poetry.
touchstone ribbons and knickknacks,
I have hid so well, don't remember where,
but not the who or the when.
*hear your ask, the answer plain
the title encapsulated.
but when I accidentally hear
Johnny Rivers sing
"Baby, I need your lovin'"
strangers do not understand
why this man who has
seven decades and a day of poems kept,
walks down the street weepin' and smilin',
but you will ken, as I well ken your askin'.*
amend my title.
easier, someday. easy never.
ever.
5:58am
10/1/2017
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 6:19 AM UTC
The daisies are lieing silent now
The earth as claimed her back
my heart oh God it's breakings
and the skies have turned to black
Ten years you've stayed beside me
ten years you've shared my pain
and now my heart is breaking
cause I ner' see you again
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 10:37 AM UTC
.
Nature cut her ties,
The stem wanders,
Petals splay in wind,
Woman spreads open,
Man needles so within,
Fruit will come, to drop,
After loves have spoken
And the new walking limbs
Of ripeness that leaves out,
Shall branch into us, light,
Under a sun which seethes,
In the salt of the scorn flesh,
The petals of woman alive,
Such nectar that man must
Halve of himself into world
And kind release, breakings
With water unto high earthly
Being and lands unknown,
Like a Phoenix after ashes,
In a shower of clay, dried
Yet bountiful with bloods
Streaming to the afterdays
Of progeny and old hatch,
To hold with stars as chaos
Falls, seeding casted comes,
Liquids into spinning births.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC
The sharp teeth anguish
similar to the dog in my last dream
who had grabbed my hand
is penetrating my body under my ribs,
the autumn turns her coat
the depth of the sea roars
from its mute lungs.
The sea weeds are looking horrified
from that place the light
is very difficult to reach,
cannot feel any caress,
cannot feel even the intense cold
and the breakings in my own body,
immobile in the ground.
The salt passes through their membranes
and gliding on the cheek,
never drying.
I tear them, I press them, I **** them.
That’s what I have to do. Only that.
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 5:14 AM UTC
Killing lilies
catching swallows
bursting dams
breakings traces
It takes more to leave this
It takes another wasted year
Consuming air
loosing sanity
wasting moments
wounding pride
It takes more to get this
It takes another turn of tides
Jul 8, 2011
Jul 8, 2011 at 6:46 AM UTC
The summoning, when it came, I answered with whale song of my own
And all the water between did not distort the sound, the resonance
Of tuning forks at the same pitch, that offended most ears who heard them
Most did not; instead held cupped hands to their heads and heard only
The rush of their OWN beats and the flat la la las of no desire to interpret those alien sounds
The ocean floor held hidden things, broken by time and the wash of happenings that cracked and buried them, both
And in the shatterings of these brittle things I showed you neon fish
Darting through the ruined holes of ancient amphora, making playgrounds of their ruin
I showed you scrolls with ancient learnings, written in ink that proved indelible
And the meanings; I knew enough to draw a map with some destinations
Yet the road was only a suggestion of words I could not grasp, their translation lost in years of forgetting how
I asked you once, I am certain, in syllables that almost made my words
If anything could be formed from shards; you had no answer, I
Knew that all of the breakings shone back a whole in each, my
Me reflected a thousandfold, not broken but in pieces
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Breakings
by Michael R. Burch
I did it out of pity.
I did it out of love.
I did it not to break the heart of a tender, wounded dove.
But gods without compassion
ordained: "Frail things must break!"
Now what can I do for her shattered psyche’s sake?
I did it not to push.
I did it not to shove.
I did it to assist the flight of indiscriminate Love.
But gods, all mad as hatters,
who legislate in all such matters,
ordained that everything irreplaceable shatters.
Keywords/Tags: Love, compassion, pity, heart, break, tender, wounded, dove, gods, command, mad, hatters, legislate, sorrow, destruction
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 3:09 AM UTC
hearts are the weirdest place to breathe in.....
one can never understand the meaning of life
so much it unfolds , reveal every time
bit by bit, sort it out in ur empty eyes,
ull feel the rush of world in ur blood..
sometimes it bestows wen u are in no need,
sometimes it snatches when u are in dire desire
sometimes it dreams when u are in search of real reality
sometimes it runs so fast that tiresome encircle ur feet
sometimes it bings rainbow when black and white is ur attire
sometimes it darkens circles under ur eyes, when u want to brighten up the sight!
breakings , make up the fragile person inside u,it makes u more stronger.. sometimes unsaid talks are more good than one with endings..i always remained a perfectionist, completing unfinished stories, without fearing the consequences, but with time i learnt sometimes leaving behind as it is ,more soothing than when u try to fold things ...
hearts are the weirdest place to breathe in..
hiramalik
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 5:23 AM UTC
.
Nature cut her ties,
The stem wanders,
Petals splay in wind,
Woman spreads open,
Man needles so within,
Fruit will come, to drop,
After loves have spoken
And the new walking limbs
Of ripeness that leaves out,
Shall branch into us, light,
Under a sun which seethes,
In the salt of the scorn flesh,
The petals of woman alive,
Such nectar that man must
Halve of himself into world
And kind release, breakings
With water unto high earthly
Being and lands unknown,
Like a Phoenix after ashes,
In a shower of clay, dried
Yet bountiful with bloods
Streaming to the afterdays
Of progeny and old hatch,
To hold with stars as chaos
Falls, seeding casted comes,
Liquids into spinning births.
.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Misplacing all of the failed products. Longevity concerned, I care only for you.
The oak's mortar cages new flowers. The cabin's perimeter gives death to fallen seeds.
My eyes do not see.
Before I speak, our campfire will host a bear's curiosity.
With haste, flesh and bone become not. The smoke will linger.
I press my ear to each pipe and listen to dreams of fortune and misfortune unabsolved.
Pause. Witness the birth of my first love.
My eyes peer too deep. The line frays. Precious ink is spilled in effort to scribe this Fate once again.
The young doctor, eager to please, pulls my love too soon. My stillborn future. The ache grows strong.
Torture is to be with one. Tasting my every conquest as needles, replaced with each new draught.
Lost is the tunnel producing such ash. May its methods be forgotten.
Your cage soothes my body. Temporal souvenir to our nights shared in sweat.
Tell me you have a chance unspent. Love is never easy. Spending it in the backseats or in the inn, just tell me.
It takes a captain to steer this ship.
Avert your gaze to the husk of the Kodiak. Memory sparks conversation 'twixt us.
Past deeds taint her innocence. But the blackness never darkens when devouring light.
Enlightenment is nothing to speak of. Today is a peace. Close to battle my margin's leavings.
My breakings of the law. A wizard's construct.
My posture will retrieve your witness. Farewell my only sculpture. Veins misplaced.
Our poles are pure. Adversity in his age.
Separate from your image, fickle love.
All of these words to confess the revation of my sight restored. I always hope you've stayed true.
Perfect dream. Thieving silo. Joyous halo, how much stronger your ore will become.
Challenges in the hammering. Perceive the bitings of the fingernails. A day left alone.
Where am I these days? In a place far from worry.
In the wilderness. Or the sequestered stables of the city.
I may not speak again.
With this closer feeling I stray towards a life of acquisition.
Lead me my true love.
Grant me decay and mercifully first, your poison.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
feel like a trapped soul; being swallowed by the world.
Falling upon my bed of sins, a tall-tale that creates another person; a story told. As the people of heaven and hell stalks my existence, for nothing lingers in the dark hours. Nothing could ever be that consistent. We, destroyed by the lies we tell ourselves, fall into the deepest pits makes us want to crawl into our shells. Cheating ourselves out of everlasting elevating bliss, we settle for transient delight, surrendering our eternity. The peace and happiness in our lives. Do we not fear the breakings in our covenants. We start to walk down the hills of our future but, instead our body starts tumbling.
I feel only guilt for when upon the throne he asks of me. Speechless in my ways; the doubt and regret it's eating me out so very terribly. But he who not know he is watched by the eyes of many, Continues to fall off the path of exaltation and dwell in the shadows of the natural man. But expects his God to take petty.
Who am I? My past has shown me. I know right from wrong. How will he forgive me if not I forgive the simple foolish acts of people who stand against me? Will I live in the world or, of the world? Time runs fast in the lives of a being, for it is brief. He only asks of me. "Come home"...
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
We all harbor hurts
Deep twistings and breakings
That gnaw at our insides
Trying to find their voice their life
They crawl from our belly up our throats and knock at the back of our teeth
But we swallow them whole
Push them down the slide of our esophagus
Because we are afraid
And we don’t want to let them speak
Because we know they are such deep
Twistings and breakings
They are the essence of the cracks within us
But when we do not open our toothy door at their knock
They find other ways
They claw at muscles and organs
They pull our bodies to consciously unintended ends
They seep out sideways
So mangled and unintelligible
That we forget their origin
And we don’t understand how our actions
Are based from our deep
Twistings and breakings
Long rejected
Left to fend for themselves in our neglect
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 1:27 PM UTC