"comfortingly" poems
With a heavy sigh, I go to bed at night, laying down to finally rest,
Just to awake in my personal heaven, a realm of sweetness and bliss,
Flowers of all kinds, trees with angel trumpets bound to golden chain,
As the lilies are touched by a soft breeze, giving off their nice scent,
I spirit away to purely engage and sympathize with other but pure fury or the sadness which has been sealed within my heart since then,
Snowdrops and buttercups form a way to a single jasmine near a river of the purest water, which is alike a shining star, majesticly sparkling,
The sky is starlit, each in their orbit whilst the golden light of the sun still reaches through, warming my cold skin comfortingly, delicately,
Taking a seat I glance at what the table has presented before my eyes,
Sweets, with sour yet aromatised orange juice anda large cheesecake,
Then, suddenly, a single seagull draws near, weeping for affection,
Together with bunnies and bumblebees buzzing around the flowers,
Even now all the hummingbirds harmonise in a soft orchestra,
And no frightened creature cries, they draw together in happiness,
Yet I feel the absence of something which I hold very dear to me,
Because you my dear lover, remain as my sweetest dream
~ Umi
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
Rolling a Pall Mall in the courtyard,
of Ye Olde Swiss Cottage Tavern,
in the last of November's sun:
Lovely sunlight,
You are,
Filling me warmly with joy.
Thinking of our desires,
from summer and autumn months,
up to this bright November morning,
we have happily danced,
e'en in the shadows.
Above me two brick turrets,
as I dreamily smoke,
nonchalantly state: 'Underground'.
High-raised logos winking at our play,
struck through with horizontal blue,
in a circle of enamel white.
'Old Fool,' the towers hiss,
directed at my mortal sensibilities,
'winter has come!'
But nothing buries us
as our sun still comfortingly kindles
a friendly star
which when all is dark,
glows inside,
guiding the shipwreck of my sunken years
- the debts and all those unpaid thrills!
Dreaming and Loving,
as children out,
lost in an abundant *****
each holding off for as long as we dare,
lovers unmasked,
naked before suffocating paternity,
and cold winter's bite!
where to we hardly know,
to avoid its cruel embrace.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 4:16 AM UTC
It was a rainy night. He took out his umbrella, opened it, and it soon engulfed the both of us. "Hey, you're getting wet," he said. He pulled me closer to him, his arms like the umbrella protecting me, protecting us from the drizzle.
I snapped out of my daydream to find him weirdly staring at me, and asked him, "What, do I have something on my face?"
"No, it's just... why are you staring into space?"
Our footsteps made little splashes, puddles reflected a thousand images of us. These pictures from nature will not last for a lifetime but the rain was our witness, as if the skies were crying at a matrimonial ceremony.
I took a step away from him to let the memory of him soak in me. He stands there in the rain innocently, with umbrella in hand, waiting for me to respond. Breathing out, I told him: "Ask me what I think of you right now."
"Wait, what? Are we going to play a game?" That usual what-is-going-on look still stupidly plastered on his angelic face. "Well, what do you think of me right now, then?"
I didn't hesitate and the first word that automatically left my lips were 'umbrella'.
"Umbrella? Do I look that thin to you, really?" He said dryly as he gave me an uninspired look. He shook his head in disbelief and pouted. "And I thought you'd relate me at least to the rain."
"Umbrella: definition for a protecting force or influence," I told him as I stood in place. I side-glanced at him to find a spark lighted up in his eyes as his shoulders loosened. "You're my umbrella because I need you in rainy days and sunny ones. Literally because of your stature to block the sun or cover me when it rains," I laughed. "And it's not because you're thin like one, silly. But how you comfortingly stretch out your arms to me when it's a bad day for me. How you guard me from others' icy remarks. It feels like a need to have you around wherever I go."
He cleared his throat jokingly and added, "Might I say I also take you high like Mary Poppins' umbrella." He burst out laughing as I glared at him for his poorly done innuendo.
But right there and then as I rolled my eyes at him, he dropped the umbrella, grabbed me by my waist and kissed me as light as the raindrops kissing our skin. He broke off after a while and said, "Getting wet, are we?"
Before I could claw at him for his second pun, he released me as I chased him down, not caring if I would get a fever later. But sometimes I just wonder how did I come to like, fall in love, and love him-- basically feel every emotion with him. In all truth, he wasn't just my umbrella, but also my home whom I'll always return to at the end of all my days. Umbrella or home, he is my shelter.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
"Nadia"
"Hope," it means.
"Beautiful," they say.
"Kind," she is.
"Caring," they are.
"Nadia."
She is the ever-hopeful,
The triply beautiful,
The very kindhearted,
The infinitely caring.
"Nadia"'s.
They are the unendingly positive,
The unfairly lovely,
The unduly affable,
The unfailingly kind.
"Nadia," oh, how she shines
So brightly, so comfortingly.
"Nadia," oh, how she loves
Without judgement or favor.
But I am not "Nadia."
I am Nadia.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
Bread from waxed paper packet
a childhood memory of mum making tea
snow white, thick sliced
fringed with a brown crust
comfortingly heavy, ****** smelling
the butter pleases me
covered under the tub lid
with a coated paper peeled back
to reveal a thick golden slab of
churned cream easily spread, cold
straight from the fridge onto waiting
fibrous surface, allowing it to sink in
cheese in a yellow block, related to
the butter in so many ways, dairy
a long lost brother, sliced thick with
a proper knife with the pointed curved
tip, designed to ***** and pick up
each slice, placing carefully on the bed
prepared for it to rest, ready for the final
ochre coloured element, mustard, from
a glass jar using a teaspoon, to dollop
before resting a second buttered slice
on top to make a creation, a taste sensation
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 2:39 PM UTC
“I keep expecting people to care. To worry about me. To pull me back when I push them away. To be my umbrella on the rainy days. To try harder, ask and reach out. But when they don’t, it breaks my heart. I know it sounds irrational, but I feel disappointed. And once I’ve healed from the experience, I go back to hoping once more. It’s like I never learn my lesson.” Each word reeked of despair and regrets as they slipped off my tongue.
“Yeah, I understand you. I do the same.” She said in the most reassuring of ways with her hand holding mine. Her ocean blue eyes were comfortingly soft and deep with wisdom. “The only thing that really has been getting me through is trusting myself enough to care when someone doesn’t do the same. To catch myself when someone else doesn’t.”
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
How dare you.
How, DARE, you.
Try to talk to me...
as if you don't remember anything.
I trusted you back then
when I needed a friend,
you were nothing of the sort!
You were the opposite.
I try my best, I try really hard
to leave grudges in my past...
but I have a dreaded feeling
that this grudge for you, may last.
Pretending to be there for me,
patting my back so comfortingly.
When really all you were doing
was luring me in.
Down to last second.
Before I was faint,
I swear I remember
the smile on your face.
I can't stand it.
How easily you decided my fate.
How do ******* live with yourself?
You make me feel things I can't bare to say.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 6:00 AM UTC
I don't tell you very often, but you're a really inspiring person,
And you're one of the people
(if not the person)
I admire most in the world.
You mean a lot more to me than I ever tell you.
We don't get into feelings a lot in person, I guess. It's just not part of our dynamic.
We talk about ideas and thoughts, but not necessarily how we feel about each other.
Often times before I go to sleep I think of you and miss you and want to cry a little because I think
We got lost for too long during our relationship, and I never actually got to tell you
That I love you
In a really special way that I don't think I'll ever love anyone else.
You've probably influenced my beliefs and the way I think more than anyone else,
And I'm really grateful for it,
Because no matter where we are in relation to each other, I always have a really strong connection to you,
Because a little bit of you is a part of me.
I really really hope you do live to be a hundred, or better a hundred and ten, like you said.
Don't start thinking like you're old- you're only as old as you feel.
I like to see you as eternal,
Like a tall tree that has seen every storm and sunny day,
That's always comfortingly there to support you or shelter you as the weather requires.
I know you're not, but I like to see you that way.
Even though I've seen your flaws and weaknesses as I've gotten older,
In my heart you always remain the person
Whose every word I followed without question out on the rocks or in the woods
Because I knew you'd keep me safe.
I guess I really want you to know that, because I've said a lot of things,
But never that you're more important to me than you think you are,
Or that I respect you a lot more than I let on,
Or that sometimes when I'm tired and my day has ****** I want a hug from you so much that I could cry.
In a weird way, you might be the person I'm closest to intellectually and spiritually and philosophically.
I just want you to know that that trust you had from me as a child
Isn't gone at all,
And neither is how much I love you.
I hope I meet many people in my life as extraordinary as you, but I sort of doubt I will.
Even though you have qualities I disagree with,
And you make mistakes,
The way you live your life is something I strive for,
And something I admire.
Every little girl's dad is their hero,
And my childhood sort of prevented me from telling you
That you're mine.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
"it’s time to go
to bed NOW,
right NOW
right this second,
or you are going to get a spanking."
bubbling up with
happy glee
the stumpy little
legs ran
and danced
around
ignorning this stern
sound booming,
this stern
sound looming.
"get upstairs,
NOW,
get into bed,
i’ll be up
in a minute,
to give you
that spanking."
Uh oh!
her fat little
squishy three-year-old
legs
carried her up
as she ran up
the stairs.
heart beating
fast with fear
of impending doom.
coming into the room
she looked about
desperately,
spying a book,
into her bed
she took.
shoving that book
inside her jammy
bottoms,
and covered her bare
little ***
but,
good.
lying there waiting,
with
layers of
help
so thickly,
so comfortingly,
spread in between,
that big hand,
and her little ***
filled with dread.
The little one,
so happy
just moments ago,
not so happy
now,
just lying there
waiting.
filling with
looming fear.
oh what a life,
an eternal seesaw
of happy and sad
mad and glee.
book and
pajama bottoms,
sheet,
and blanket.
he’ll never see,
that book that’s,
a covering me.
waiting with dread,
the minutes ticking
in the dark,
ever so slowly,
an eternity.
the huge giant
finally came up,
big shoes,
booming each
step of the way.
he
gave a good swat,
then out
he went,
closing the door,
shaking a finger
and saying,
“i don’t want to hear any more."
giggled
did she,
and thougth to
herself,
i didn’t even
feel that
and he didn’t,
even know.
hee hee hee..
pulling that book
away from her
be-hinny,
she stretched
out on her back
so comfortably,
so calmly,
and very
peacefully.
so happy
was she,
with her,
Oh So Smart
3-year-old
little self.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 6:54 PM UTC
Darling, the planet in the Western sky just after sunset, I've been telling it all about you.
I'd walk out my door and see it rising there,
The brightest thing around,
And I'd say your name low and soft,
Because if a wish on a star can come true, how about a whole planet?
It's Venus. Goddess of Love. The Evening Star.
The brightest planet known to man.
I should have known I'd make that one yours.
All the lore surrounding it and its name, and I've figured out it means not just love,
But birth and death as well.
One culture named it "Light Bearer", or Lucifer,
But it never fell.
It's still up there, and it means the euphoria of having everything you want
And the despair of knowing you could lose it.
I feel a little fallen, myself, looking up at it.
The longer I stare, the more I can see that it burns.
It grows and shrinks just slightly, and I've never known stars to truly twinkle,
But this does wink in the dusk like an exquisitely cut gem.
It is everything unattainable but comfortingly constant in its loveliness.
In a way it is cold and distant,
But it puts the waning sunset to shame, a light so pure and strong that the purple clouds below it
Seem like a heap of ashes among which one diamond glitters
Incongruously.
As everything sinks into shades of black, this one planet shines.
And even before I knew what it meant,
I knew what it meant,
And I murmured your name upon seeing it. The brightest.
The star that isn't a star.
The one that means everything it doesn't mean-
Love and death,
Sin and salvation.
The Evening Star.
I've always had my sympathies for Lucifer.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
I don't tell you very often, but you're a really inspiring person,
And you're one of the people
(if not the person)
I admire most in the world.
You mean a lot more to me than I ever tell you.
We don't get into feelings a lot in person, I guess. It's just not part of our dynamic.
We talk about ideas and thoughts, but not necessarily how we feel about each other.
Often times before I go to sleep I think of you and miss you and want to cry a little because I think
We got lost for too long during our relationship, and I never actually got to tell you
That I love you
In a really special way that I don't think I'll ever love anyone else.
You've probably influenced my beliefs and the way I think more than anyone else,
And I'm really grateful for it,
Because no matter where we are in relation to each other, I always have a really strong connection to you,
Because a little bit of you is a part of me.
I really really hope you do live to be a hundred, or better a hundred and ten, like you said.
Don't start thinking like you're old- you're only as old as you feel.
I like to see you as eternal,
Like a tall tree that has seen every storm and sunny day,
That's always comfortingly there to support you or shelter you as the weather requires.
I know you're not, but I like to see you that way.
Even though I've seen your flaws and weaknesses as I've gotten older,
In my heart you always remain the person
Whose every word I followed without question out on the rocks or in the woods
Because I knew you'd keep me safe.
I guess I really want you to know that, because I've said a lot of things,
But never that you're more important to me than you think you are,
Or that I respect you a lot more than I let on,
Or that sometimes when I'm tired and my day has ****** I want a hug from you so much that I could cry.
In a weird way, you might be the person I'm closest to intellectually and spiritually and philosophically.
I just want you to know that that trust you had from me as a child
Isn't gone at all,
And neither is how much I love you.
I hope I meet many people in my life as extraordinary as you, but I sort of doubt I will.
Even though you have qualities I disagree with,
And you make mistakes,
The way you live your life is something I strive for,
And something I admire.
Every little girl's dad is their hero,
And my childhood sort of prevented me from telling you
That you're mine.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 9:06 AM UTC
Last night when you held me
in the warmth of your arms
clasped comfortingly to your chest
whipsered words of devotion in my ear
inhaled my perfume lingering on my hair
traced the curve of my cheek
with your fingertip so very gently
is a night I would never trade
for anything in this lifetime or beyond.
For in those precious minutes
my heart beat faster than normal
my inner core came to life
my whole body seemed to tingle
the blood coursed through my viens
with a rhythm never known before
my eyes were lit by the stars from heaven
my breath caught in my throat
for at that very moment I fell in love.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 6:23 PM UTC
Lead
I wake up and my head is as heavy as lead
The bed is hugging me tightly
telling me that if I stay, ill be safe
The bed drown me comfortingly
with the tears that I've wept
Sting
My eyes sting from the lack of sleep
they sting like my tears are poison
I walk to school obstinately
because I know I am part of a hoard fo depressed children
trying not to succumb to the urge to **** themselves
before the gunman does that job for us
Black
While I'm writing my 3rd essay this week
a black cloud suffocates me
its smoke climbing its way into my airway
turning into ink as it enters my lungs
I walk around with the cloud
Cry
I am trying to keep myself together
when we get a division problem
a simple equation that anyone could do
but I forget how to divide by 5
I feel the tears crawling from my chest
I start to feel like I cant breath
I choke down the tears
Pills
I have to take pills now
they help
I'm not ashamed of it
though I'm scared
I'm scared that if I run out
I'm going to hurt myself...
But I won't. I need to have confidence in myself
Please seek help
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC
He was just a boy before I loved him.
He was the pastel sky on a twilight,
A scene to catch after the hustle and bustle.
He was the glitter in the gloom, the hope in the doom.
I was just a girl before I loved him.
I was the autumn leaf slowly falling,
The dullness on a November breeze.
I was dressed in grief, a disaster yet to happen.
His warmth came to me comfortingly like embers on a chilly night.
Until I was wrapped in his arms.
His sweet words caressed my skin,
Tingled every inch.
We were just what we were before it happened.
He told me I’m the mountain.
When the sun’s about to rise and the moment it’s about to set,
My features are accented.
Now, we are not what we were before because we are more.
I have come to realize he is the sun,
The light that made me see who I really am.
I’d love to be the mountain where the sun goes behind.
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
“Everyone goes through this,” they say, comfortingly
“Everyone gets over it.” I hear, disheartened
“So many people care about you.” They say, encouragingly
“Don’t disappoint those who care for you.” I hear, dejected
“You’ve done so much to be proud of!” They say, smiling
“What happened to the you who did things?” I hear, terrified
“This happens to me all the time; don’t worry.” They say, reassuring
“Be better.” I hear. I’m not you. And I’m petrified.
“These things take time. Be patient.” They say, concerned
“Get over it already.” I hear, numb
“Ignore your brain trying to get you down.” They say, supportive
“Don’t trust yourself.” I hear. Save me. I’m not ok.
I’m afraid of my own feelings.
“This is normal.” They say.
I spend 3 hours just staring at the ceiling.
“Take it one step at a time.”
I feeling like I’m slowly withering away.
“Don’t give up!”
I’m just going through the motions everyday
“See? You’re getting better!” They say, cheerful.
For them, I try
“I’m fine.” I say, hesitant and fearful
They believe me, satisfied.
I’m a liar.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
The girl across the room is a stranger.
Her hair is familiar, her face is comfortingly reassuring,
But her eyes speak of trauma,
Of forgotten dreams and aspirations that shatter daily.
In the lines of her tired face I see a dreamer,
And in the pools of her eyes I see a perfect disaster.
Where there was once pure, undiluted hope and happiness,
there is now a dulled pretense.
She feels like a rich, red juice that has been drawn out too far
With tainted water,
Or like a piece of string, pulled taut for so long
that it cannot snap back into its original, unspoiled shape.
In her wearied sigh I hear all of her unspoken truths;
All of the things which she has never said but that need saying anyway.
The girl across the room is my friend.
Her voice is like a song I know all the words to,
Her face is as familiar to me as my own.
In the brightness of her smile I see a warrior,
And in the melody of her laughter I hear my imperfect saviour.
Where there was once desperation and despair,
There is now a golden spark of hope.
In my own tired sigh, I hear a future for the first time;
All of the dreams which I have never followed,
But that need following anyway.
The girl across the room is everything,
And I am nothing.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC
We fell asleep like you fall in love
Slowly and then all at once
And I think in that moment
I did a little bit of both
I fell in love with the way you breathed
Too loud when you were
Between sleep and waking
I fell in love with the way
Your arms instinctively tightened
Whenever I twitched or moved
I fell in love with the way
Your heart beat thumped my back
In a comfortingly regular pace
I fell in love with the sound of
A movie playing on your TV
While we confused ourselves
With whose lips were whose
I fell in love with
Your hands on the skin
Of my stomach and back
Trying to pull me impossibly close
I fell in love with the way
We made pizza rolls and sugar cookies
And ate them on the floor of your kitchen
I fell in love with the way
You stroked my head when I tired
And I fell in love with the way
You walked me up to my door
And kissed the tip of my nose goodbye
Before brushing my lips
I think I fell a little bit
In Love
With you
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
The night is dark and peaceful.
The city lights create a certain ambiance.
The warm breeze comfortingly engulfs.
If this were any other night
You would be here.
But it's not any other night
And you're not here.
And you aren't going to be here.
Something I have to get used to now.
I can't help but think
If you were here
We'd hold hands
And walk in the night
And talk about things
We'd talk about all kinds of things.
Things like religion.
Things like politics.
And all of those other things
You aren't supposed to talk about.
We'd keep holding hands.
And we'd keep walking in the night.
And then you'd kiss me goodnight.
But on this warm, dark, and peaceful city night
You aren't here.
And you won't ever be here.
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 1:29 AM UTC
Will loving him repair his broken heart?
Will kind words heal wounds inflicted?
Will patience show him he is worth waiting for?
Will forgiveness show him
That he can look forward now, and not back?
Can X's and O's fill
the crevices and canyons of his soul?
He cannot find liquor strong enough,
nor painkillers numbing enough,
no cut deep enough,
or risky behaviours risky enough to mask his pain
He says "it happens"
she shrugs as he tells you
the pieces of his puzzle he'd rather forget
Never sheds a tear,
but you can see him shake when he has to
"be a man" at 16
six schools, four years, no one he can count on
"I'm the one he comes to" she says
"When his mind is not with him,
when he drink or the drug sweeps his thoughts away
like a forceful wind,
his subconscious longs for me"
He calls her late into the night,
his voice a mumble
and his words nonsense
She speaks to him softly, comfortingly,
until she can hear his gentle snoring.
Then she cries herself to sleep,
because she's not sure if he'll ever be better
or if he'll ever say " I love you"
without alcohol as his wingman
Or be able to make it through the day without
a sip
a puff
a cut
And she can't help but wonder: is loving him enough?
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
you sobbed.
you whimpered.
you cried out,
your face
buried deep
in my chest.
i made my fingers feel
like soft water droplets
running
through your hair.
i let my voice flow
comfortingly
like the River Jordan,
pretending
that i myself was calm.
why is it,
do you think,
that our only moments
of true intimacy
occur when the
flames of our ignorance
can no longer
be tamed?
why can't we just pretend?
pretend and be happy
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 2:17 PM UTC
“My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains”
my mind as I sit in my overgrown grassy field.
I lie back, and look at the last rays of sunlight,
glimmer across the green leaves of the trees,
that creep up behind me in their sneaky ways.
My head is throbbing as silent tears slip down,
unseen by anyone other than the stars in dark,
my pale cheeks, and my messy, knotted hair.
I curl up in a ball on my side in the blackening night.
I hold my arms tightly around myself, desperately,
trying to keep from completely falling apart.
My choked sobs echo in the woods that reach,
comfortingly, out to me. I am tempted to go;
to climb into my favorite tree, settle in my place,
and just lie there forever-until unconsciousness
becomes my lonely eternity. Animals, insects,
and bugs are dead silent while I cry myself to sleep,
in the soft, caring grass, and my final wish,
before I go under, is that it hadn’t been him;
it hadn’t been me, and that everything would
be back to normal, and it was nothing but,
a sad, frightening, horrible, impossible dream.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
"Everyone goes through this,"
They say 'comfortingly.'
Maybe they go through something like this,
But not this.
They don't get it.
No one does.
Sometimes even I don't,
But the burning...
It's changing me.
I want this so bad,
And everything wants so badly to hold me back.
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 12:19 AM UTC
Silence can be comfortingly loud
a gentle squidgy giant.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 6:27 AM UTC
tell me how is it easy
for you put yourself to rest
each & every cold night
knowing that i am home
crying tears of you in the dark
cradling myself as a baby
in my bed of depressed moisture
as you once did comfortingly
when you were committedly mine
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 10:59 PM UTC