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"heartening" poems
It was deep April, and the morn Shakespeare was born; The world was on us, pressing sore; My love and I took hands and swore, Against the world, to be Poets and lovers evermore, To laugh and dream on Lethe's shore, To sing to Charon in his boat, Heartening the timid souls afloat; Of judgement never to take heed, But to those fast-locked souls to speed, Who never from Apollo fled, Who spent no hour among the dead; Continually With them to dwell, Indifferent to heaven and hell.
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It was deep April
the comforting warmth of the morning sun, like I had known it from the days of yesteryears. the familiar scent of dew-kissed grass, a fresh aroma that brought forth the tide of gratitude laden tears. I had foreseen the day to be just as before... I had planned to play out my morning as I had rehearsed. but your message had foiled all that I thought I knew... it brought about the smile that eternity had kept pursed. your words were laced with the flowers of spring... they set at ease the unapparent apprehension I've always kept. they spoke of compliments meant only for the worthiest quills, I've read them in disbelief as I think not of myself, an adept... truly you are one that's generous and so very kind. for your words flew off the page and had struck home; bearing the stoutest of hope and most selfless of wishes. they had provided direction in these vague circles that I roam. so now allow me to thank you dear poetess... for drawing the sunrise clear into my view. I shall revel and bask in its delightful rays... because your words had painted today in the brightest hue...
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
Your Heartening Words
#*Heartening In its days of glory Slowly dying an eternal end*#
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Oct 12, 2019
Oct 12, 2019 at 7:55 AM UTC
Beautiful End
Last summer our days sped by us like Faris wheel highs swept beneath sidewalk alleyways. We traveled the world in our little neighborhood of dreams; a hand to hold so close yet miles away in words. We found the best out of emptiness, heartening our comfortable silence. We found each other on accident two summers ago from June, hopscotched in one-night walks on a bus going nowhere fast. By then, we barely knew how far the universe would take us in a matter of months. Now, all I can think about is how to comprise your heart flutter the same way your smile and cosmos composed mine.
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Nov 9, 2021
Nov 9, 2021 at 10:06 PM UTC
keep my heart in your pocket
we are blessed forgiven healed redeemed and crowned we are drawn with lovingkindness this day i will trust this day i will pour He is my heart's refuge.... cj 2016
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May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 11:06 PM UTC
a heartening....
*The morning face Aglow with warmth Darkness paves way To a bright new day Gossips of the night Under the starry world Without inhibitions Wanton hearts danced Forayed into darkness To steal into the secrets Unwrapped souls Heartening pleasures Two reckless souls Lay there, waiting for new day To renew the night’s pact Kissing the morning face Quivering lips welcome Beautiful dreams come alive The crimson blush Reminds of a fervent appeal Another day Shall slip into the night As will two souls cusp Yearning for a union Till, another day beckons*
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
Without Inhibitions
*Expression is important.   There are times when you want to scream your heart out and paint the walls with what's building inside your brain.   The aggressive, blunt and killer feelings just reside inside and somehow you want to spill them out. Surrounded by suffocating truths , lies and millions of mixed emotions , humans tend to collapse. Expressing ,not only in darkest of emotions but also in the most colorful of moments , is essential. To disencumber the heart from feelings and emotions that sink it , we express. Way outs can be simple and they can be labyrinthine. Screams , music,words, art and what not. Our world is surrounded by these expressions. Every thing that touches us and relates to us, is someone's expression . Expressions give rise to heartening forms of art and mystics of world. We are surrounded by such things , that way we are part of everyone's life. That's how we are all connected. Is it not curious, how world so big seems so familiar when we are introduced and when we understand the hidden meanings of it? I believe , this whole world is just an expression of God's mind.* ©asim.javid
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 2:41 AM UTC
Expressions
I know I don't tell you enough, that you sustain me and allow me to breathe. You are my shepherds warning and the peck on my cheek goodnight. Your the heartening wholesome warmth at the rear of my mind. Your arms are a welcoming sunrise after the night is endless, and an immortal nightmare has descended. I take you for granted like my drawn breath, In the same way I know one second without you would result, in instant death. You let me put my head on your shoulder, when sticky shadows engrave themselves like tattoos on my skin and leave a trail to follow that is the ugly stench of my sin. I am forever indebted to you, for your constant stream of faith Even when the firmest believers, suitcases in hand wordlessly have fled the state. I offer you my little words of gratitude, though I know it will never be enough to the love that you've  bestowed on me. The love I did not earn yet you gave, as you picked me up and dusted me down and sent me out to believe.
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
My little words of gratitude.
she encourages me to draw the curtains i'm on her couch for an hour or so explaining to me that, "all men aren't serpents." even if he's slithered in my bed... around my throat reminds me, "isolation is a birdcage he'll never know you if you're ruffled and shy" yet, i cannot find the courage to engage my craving for adventure is... out of supply she listens to stubborn reasoning and woe allows me to sit in unanswered silence she's heartening every wednesday even though my distaste for growth is shown through defiance
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Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 12:12 AM UTC
call the elevator for the fourth floor
Her brilliant ocular orbs persist beyond the occasional glance averting my focus just after her curious stare brings a gentle smile, beckoning for our distance in the room's expanse to diminish perchance as her heartening gestures attempt to avert my stance from sessile. The magnetic pull of this inspiring scenery tugs me from my position each forced step resisted as I cross the floor towards this distraction, every warm, reassuring nod has filled my arsenal's ammunition and causes a craving to quell the disturbance that has forced my reaction. As her fingers delicately caress her soft lips I swiftly turn away she knows not the consequence that her simple mistakes would bring, I gather all my strength to fight the magnetic force enticing me to stay leaving this alluring siren with nothing but her song she sings. Though drained of will I flee with a vivid memory of what will never be a siren so pure should stay near the shore and never reach the depths of sea.
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Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 10:08 PM UTC
Siren song
Waves of unease flood my heart, Defying and ignoring my loving touch. Crippling memories shake me through, For your angelic image seems so true. Precious and priceless you are in my eyes, For I can never bear to see you cry. Clinging deeply to the love we share, Treasuring a love that seems so rare. Severed sinews and battered heart, Oh, how I long for your tender hug! Heartening to see you change, As you walk out of my loving range. Abandoned was my eventual fate, For all was deemed too late. Melancholic and forlorn I became, Forever forgetting love and pain.
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Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
Abandoned Was My Eventual Fate
The drunk guy and his drunk girl both sat on the concrete near the dumpster along with their oil stained dog. The guy had stacked up some cardboard for his girl to rest her backside on. The dog drank cool water from an old tin. The guy always greeted me with a tobacco stained smile and a ***** open palm wave. His girl was always drunk even when he obviously wasn’t. Maybe that was his way of keeping her around. Sacrifice a bottle for the company of her. The dog  appeared fainthearted and a bit skittish but his tail always wagged at the sight of a stranger. A hopeful wag, a heartening gesture. One that said he still had hope that one of these strangers would one day take him home and away from the life his fate had cast upon him. I always took the time to greet the drunks and the dog. The guy’s face had that worn leather look with his bold Native features and his deep mocha colored skin. His spiel was always the same he'd praise my coat and my truck, the dog would always wag his agreement. I made sure to always leave them with a fresh bottle of some cheap wine or even cheaper ***** A pack of GPC’s and a stick of jerky for the dog. The guy always took the gifts without standing. He smiled and his drunk woman smiled and the ***** dog wagged his ***** tail. He would applaud me as I walked away. Which for some reason caused me to feel a bit less instead of feeling better. Their joy was real. ***** back alley drunken joy. While mine was only a front. This all took place before all of this. At a time when I thought I was in love.
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Looking Back On Love
The drunk guy and his drunk girl both sat on the concrete near the dumpster along with their oil stained dog. The guy had stacked up some cardboard for his girl to rest her backside on. The dog drank cool water from an old tin. The guy always greeted me with a tobacco stained smile and a ***** open palm wave. His girl was always drunk even when he obviously wasn’t. Maybe that was his way of keeping her around. Sacrifice a bottle for the company of her. The dog  appeared fainthearted and a bit skittish but his tail always wagged at the sight of a stranger. A hopeful wag, a heartening gesture. One that said he still had hope that one of these strangers would one day take him home and away from the life his fate had cast upon him. I always took the time to greet the drunks and the dog. The guy’s face had that worn leather look with his bold Native features and his deep mocha colored skin. His spiel was always the same he'd praise my coat and my truck, the dog would always wag his agreement. I made sure to always leave them with a fresh bottle of some cheap wine or even cheaper ***** A pack of GPC’s and a stick of jerky for the dog. The guy always took the gifts without standing. He smiled and his drunk woman smiled and the ***** dog wagged his ***** tail. He would applaud me as I walked away. Which for some reason caused me to feel a bit less instead of feeling better. Their joy was real. ***** back alley drunken joy. While mine was only a front. This all took place before all of this. At a time when I thought I was in love.
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It's the time of the year To say goodbye To give our parting hugs To flash our last wavering smile. It’s this time of the year Where we determine how true The essence of friendship is How long would it last And it is this time of the year Where I discovered None of the friendships made Were made out of diamond: strong Made out of rubber: flexible Made out of pure truth Lies upon lies Built up on a weak foundation Threatening it to topple To collaspe and to fall Its heartening to see What true friendship can do But yet disheartening to know That true does not exist too.
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Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
It's the time of the year
It’s heartening the wondrous things you can do All it takes is a kind word or two. A friendly touch or warm smile and “hi” Melts someone’s defenses in the blink of an eye. You’ve been there yourself you know it’s true Frozen and hurt by negative words said to you. All to frequent it doesn’t have to be that way Offer a compliment instead and make their day. Perhaps initially a fight, but a battle you can win Kind words flow freely, when you’re happy from within. Good idea, nice job, your haircut looks great Offer your kind words quickly, before they’re too late. Generous, dependable, thoughtful are positive seeds to sow Own the words first, then to others they can flow. Charming, radiant, talented are words that bring cheer Powerful words those around you long to hear. Creative, gracious, you’re so fun to be around All part of a marvelous new vocabulary you have found. Remember the secret is to first be happy within The kind words that follow will win many a friend. Hearts frozen or melted it’s entirely up to you Make a difference to someone else...today... with just a Kind Word or Two.
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Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 11:45 AM UTC
A Kind Word or Two
The pieces I desired to reach was ever outlying yet heartening.
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Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
Distance
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh. Creation is groaning. Its beauty is losing its wonderful face. Tears there are streaking and staining its liberty, Yet there’s the Spirit of Truth in His place. F = ma and G = gravity falling at 32’/s/s. Natural law doesn’t change from its infancy. Earth was made perfect and that’s on the record. Why then this fracture of precious inventiveness? How does it happen that something went wrong? Was it intended, this frightful disaster? Why this dischord in a beautiful song? Earth waits in agony for re-commissioning, Blood on the ground. It’s the spirit of death. Yes he was placed here to sort out the heartening Souls of creative men tangling with Truth. Creation is groaning ‘cause Truth is the soul of it. Those who embrace her inherit the earth. As for the others, when death’s reward comes to them, They’ll know the Truth, but destruction’s their path. One day the Son will arrive to inherit This earth, and restore it to vigor and Life. He’ll have no party with lies and their consequence. King of the times He’ll just rule out that strife. Then will the earth once again reach its majesty. Then once again mighty mountains may dance. Then will the joy of the great restoration Complete the perfection, the longed for romance.
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
Aaaaagh!
Something’s afoot Of this I am sure Of exactly what I’m not When my eyes catch a glimpse My heart skips a beat And briefly butterflies fly When she moves I am drawn When she stops I am drawn When she smiles I am drawn When she cries I am drawn - There is warmth There is prospect. There is stock In imminent return There is firm retribution There is cold creeping in! In leaving In wretched departure There is joy in re-joining There is heartening When firm is footfall And sweet singing sounds Summer is coming There my love is found
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Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 6:45 PM UTC
Something’s afoot
sound sounds like this in english. sounds familiar. in the morning, heartening lorries, mansel davis, north to south and back again reverse turn. garden, sounds fresh so early, outdoor noise. indoors, the radio plays. brittle. news mumbo jumbo of politics. birds sing. tinnitus continues, softer now sbm.
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
. noun uk /saʊnd/ .
There's such a heartening glow in your face as the last rays of evening subside your smile is wrapped in such sweet grace I'll ask for nothing more beside your glory will light up every place in your heart my worshipful devotion will abide life should be an unfailing welcome and embrace come love, o tender love, be our constant guide!
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May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 10:44 PM UTC
THE WELCOME*
San frontieres, a twig of poetree, topological, roots and wings, once more to the breach, dancing betwixt ears, ungestured, bays, I'd be as a mayfly, only alive a day, rather than as long as an eagle flies, not whying. Fathoming delves ley lines realizing increasing wingspan, height of flight, intensity of sunlight.
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 7:58 AM UTC
not just plumb, aplomb, true, heartening, you
When I find myself with you I find myself in not only this moment But in all the moments to come to have and to hold from this day forward. It’s the Saturday mornings with their lazy light and the birds crisp songs and all the trials and battles stand still as we remember, for better or for worse And the Tuesday nights as the keys hit the table after a long day is over when work was rough and the week has just begun, for richer or for poorer It’s in the Sunday afternoons as the sun traces its way across the sky and we rejoice in what we have whether it be hard or heartening or the good and the better, in sickness and in health Its then that I think of you In a thousand little moments yet to come And its then I must remember to not be so excited for forever that I forget it is happening right now, ‘til death do us part.
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
eternity avowed
I have a habit of losing myself in other people And it's never really proven itself to be a good thing It has caused a significant amount of pain and loss But now, I find myself asking, "What if you meet someone and discover yourself within them?" A part of you that you have been searching for and missing for a long, long time So long you don't even remember what it feels like to have that part of you back... What it feels like to be whole and complete So maybe a habit of losing yourself in other people isn't such a dire thing Because once you come across the right person Whenever or whomever that may be You begin to grow and discover Rather than to hurt and lose More and more Maybe it's all about finding the other person Who holds the other part of you within them Maybe that's where the term "Your other half" comes from *I think there was always a part of me missing Until I found it in you*
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
The (Sometimes) Heartening Habit
Like a drop of rain that trickles down a crisp blade of grass only to dissapear, I sprinkle my emotions onto this page with the hope that when they reach the end they will be absorbed in. In the solitude of my scribblings I can SCREAM and not worry about who I offend, I can cry or be invisible to judging eyes that would persecuite me for divulging my secrets, my hidden sin. The walls of life can come crashing down around me and the sky may fill with dis-heartening clouds of doom, but I can hide from it all behind the safety of my paper and pen. I can be anyonomous, no one has to know that these worries are mine, or I can be bold shoutting my sorrows from the rooftop, I can be a giant among men. Just like the effervescent glow from the moon on a brisk fall evening washes over all, I am able share the beauty of the words I feel inside with the world, I'm able to let them shine on. Thru my writting my thoughts can become immortalized and these words that are written on my heart are then bared for all to see until the moment when all time is gone.
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Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 2:41 PM UTC
Hidden within the Ink