"heartwrenching" poems
Funny how the one you don't long for,
Can cling to you like a guilt ridden curse.
And yet the one that you do desire,
Seems to run from you like fire.
So please feel free to explain
The reasoning behind this wasted pain?
Why must one always want what they can't have?
When there are so many other options up for grabs
And why is this vicious circle so often repeated?
Can't our interfering emotions see that they're not needed?!
Or wanted, I must add..
Because what follows in every case,
is all too heartwrenching and sad..
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 4:00 PM UTC
Some
people hold
onto their
pain and sadness
like a mother
with her
newborn child
It
grows as
the years pass by
being nurtured
along the
way
becoming
a part
of them
Making
setting it free
just as
heartwrenching
as
being held
captive
by it
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
O! How the winds cry!
O! How the earth weeps!
O! How the heavens pour forth their tears!
Thy face knows no blemish!
Thine eyes rich as diamonds
Your perfect attributes cause all others to pale in Comparison, like the tapestries of Arachne!
O! the Sun wishes to shine as you do!
No! 'Tis blasphemy to even but dream
Of placing oneself above so fair a maiden.
The fury of the Erinyes at those who dare
Is apparent to all.
O! The thought of not seeing
Your impeccable features once again
Is maddening!Heartwrenching!
But my gaze is like a stain
Upon thee. No love is felt
But pain is delt
Insanity comes upon me.
With little hope;much despair
For me, I beg, Send a prayer
I cannot; WILL not bear the agony
Of which is like the apostles upon the stormy sea
Whence Jesus remarked "Oh, ye of little faith."
I am such a man incapable of receiving
Thine divine compliments
Which I save myself from with doubt
And questioning;O! the torment!
I love thee, I try to show it
But I am unable to merit
Affection in return
Time and time again
I exult you my friend,
Yet how can you receive my words of praise
When your words I do but raze?
O! The neverending cycle which perpetuates
The need for love, which does not abate
How can I love you
When the thought of self-love is so new?
But I feel like to you I do belong
Chose me or deny; the point of my song.
Oh! How the crucible of love
Causes me pain in the heart
Self-love does not endure in part
Or in whole, but love for those dear
And love for those near
Is where true love starts.
Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 7:48 AM UTC
Connect the dots
1-2-3
Point to Point
LA to DC
Life to Death
4-5-6
Sweet Pleasures to Heartwrenching Pain
Superficial Dates to Long-term Relationships
Rollercoaster Life to Unforeseen Death
7-8-9
Hot chai latte to Healthy vegetarian salad
Chic urban lifestyle to Family-orientated suburban neighbourhood
Optimistic rollercoaster life to Cynical unforeseen death
10-11-12
Fluffy thin fleece blankets to Mature-looking king-sized silver comforters
Young rash impulsive mistakes to Wise mindful informed decisions
Regretful optimistic rollercoaster life to Peaceful cynical unforeseen death
...
The dots are endless
The unknown picture yet not completed nor predicted
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 3:51 AM UTC
the fog outside my window creates
miniature halos around each
streetlight -
mocking me with their
barometrically-induced
divinity
how the **** can a streetlight
find God when all I find
are more reasons to dislike
my fellow man?
every day, all day,
on every channel
(CNN, MSNBC, FOX, ABC, NBC, CBS)
I see hour after
hour
of so-called news about
the latest boogeyman Arab,
celebrity pregnancies,
something else that
causes cancer,
a book that will
change my life,
or a heartwrenching expose
on teen drugs use in
suburbia.
hundreds of hours of
"news"
every day. We talk
so much and still
fail to communicate.
And all the while, the light
outside
my window reaches enlightenment
without ever
saying
a
word.
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
Feeling down,
so I played the blues
Therapeutic tunes,
to help me get through.
Feel the vulnerability through the notes of another
Feel the heartwrenching wailing,
Through their solo
Relatable and understood
Are your words,
through your roots
Let your story, roll off your tongue
May your words, be as powerful
As the oceans tide
Play those blues
So I may hide
Sing your blues
One more time
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
***
When you think
Maybe, we ~
Are
Forlorn
For the time-
Being cruel to us
In most heartwrenching
Wonderful impossible
Way
love, Love, _
Never was I yours
To come at your
Thresholds
Blushed a little bit
Over my sunlit cheeks
Holding in my hand
A Damascus Rose
For my beloved~
For you
A jazzy blues done
None plus no one
Gets the whole bush
Unless walking hand in hand
Through garden divine
Loving
Like
Icecold queen n' king
Siddharta within our seams
Yet, I turn in my dreams
And look straight
In those lovely
Flames
Portruding in me
Fireflies lit
For me
To you
Cosmos exists as a play
Of darkness through
Light
Hurting me
Again
No
More
~~~~~~
Please
~~~~~
For a begining
You gently touch
My wrist, holding
It with desire
And say
- Here
You
Are -
My twin~flame!!
A
Long
Awaited
Wonder
This Day Is
Magnetic
Grip
. . .
Unutterly
Unyeilding
Pulling me close within
Your chocolate
Emerald wisdom
Vishnu Inevitability
Embrace
Emitting radiance
Embraced for as long
As we need to please
The almighty & amazing laws
Of physics
Nodding
In approval of
.
.
.
Weeee-_-omens
***
= =
Woed by
Thunderous pounds
Blood in our veins
Burning like the
Ocean waves
Rhythmic pace
Dreamy foams as
Satin
Lace
Overwhelming Us
Courageous
Navigators of
Our starry midnights
Building the arch of
Invisibility
For the rest
of the
World
Our tent
Under satin~silk
Is heavens
A
Relationship
Beautifully
Playful
Extraordinaire
& Serene***
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Feeling down,
so I played the blues
Therapeutic tunes,
to help me get through.
Feel the vulnerability through the notes of another
Feel the heartwrenching wailing,
Through their solo
Relatable and understood
Are your words,
through your roots
Let your story, roll off your tongue
May your words, be as powerful
As the oceans tide
Play those blues
So I may hide
Finger fretting
Moving so free
Up and down that neck
Wail this stress, free
Sing your blues
One more time
Roll off your tongue
Memories of mine
Play that guitar boy
For new memories
To find
Wail them blues, one more time
Singing them blues,
So I may hide.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
The very walls I built
To keep the clutter out
Suffocate me daily
Shutting me in with my thoughts
Questioning my decisions
testing my patience.
Was I wrong? Or right?
Have I added to my mistakes?
Will I wake up tomorrow?
The burden overwhelms me
I fear that I will give in
To the heartwrenching fear
Of the unknown.
A weight settles on me
Bearing down on my chest
I heave breath after troubled breath
who knows if it's my last?
I prepare myself for death
Sink into nothingness below
For there are no worries
nothing but stillness.
No,I will not let the reaper close
But how to deal with my pain
That is anew everyday
I find fault with the sun and moon
No one to distract me
From these savage insecurities
hounding at my door
am I pretty enough? Strong?
can I do it? Will I succeed?
it seems I am doomed to doubt
Trapped by inequities
and someday I just hope
These walls will be solace
And not my jailer.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
It's horrible to realize you're
No different than any one before or after,
For the one you loved.
It's awful to see them
Treat someone else the same way
They treated you.
It's disheartening and heartwrenching
To see them brag about the new person
In their life
The way they bragged about you.
It's terrifying and it hurts so much
For them to show you you're not special
In their heart.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 12:04 PM UTC
Before the storm,
after they are gone,
giving the cold shoulder,
under the fallen boulder,
under blooming spring,
idle wandering,
watching them sleep,
heartwrenching grief,
going home from work,
dinners with family,
reading that book again,
watching that movie,
eating on the sofa,
cooking a meal for one,
afternoon paintings,
written ramblings,
browing for random words,
clearing cluttered drawers,
on a crowded city street,
in a random group meet,
nod when an acquaintance greets,
but,
silent.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 11:30 PM UTC
You were the boy who turned my life in so many directions that I had to put it into words.
You were my muse, you were the one who made me start to write.
People always say if you fall in love with a writer and end up hurting them that you should be thankful.
They say that because writers will create art out of you. You'll become their masterpiece.
You are the person who made me feel so high on cloud nine, without a care in the world, the happiest I had ever been.
But you're also the person who made me cry the most. The most painful, screaming, heartwrenching sobs I've ever shed were because of you.
You've shattered and repaired my heart throughout the years, you've wreaked havoc in my life and made it feel like the most peaceful wonderland that there ever was.
I don't know how to go back to a life that doesn't include you, but regardless of if you're here or not, you'll be the most beautiful piece of art that you never knew you'd be.
How are you supposed to just stop loving someone and move on like they never mattered to you?
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
Tons of commotion,
Followed by defining
Silence.
The door clicks open,
Followed by a slight bang.
We are already made aware
Of the situation at hand.
No one speaks,
No sound to be heard.
A few moments after
The door clicks closed,
A slight mumble can be heard.
Followed my a
Heartwrenching scream.
Loud sobs echo
Through the halls.
Many here are
Slightly teary eyed.
Another mumble,
The door clicks open again.
The door seems to bang rather loudly
This time.
Nothing compared to the
Earthshaking sobs coming from the room.
IUFD makes the loud go
Silent.
In a few moments the normal
Commotion resumes.
Tonight we will leave
With heavier hearts.
A moment of silence,
For no longer beating hearts.
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 2:13 PM UTC
A long forgotten song spills out of my speakers
And an emotion wells up in my chest
I knew not why, as I had forgotten the theme
But as the melody continued to play
And my mouth formed the memorized lyrics
The words I sang fit together again
And I remembered the meaning,
The heartwrenching meaning.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC
Which is my church with its green leaves, brown grass
and pine’s bark, all foresting in one motion.
I shall forest rituals of sacrifice,
but without Catholicizing faces drawn
from dark Crusading and my exiling.
Annaling to mark the sun’s solstice for Eastering
and holying days, the dew
coalescing upon the darkening and browning grass
at midnight and cooling air
arching constellations
and the mooning of the night: the cue
to lying for rest
by the small pool in this placing or
to strike, savaging at prey.
Owling as it does, darting as it does,
from a bed of branches, crying,
soundlessly shooting at a forest mouse, leaves
rustling for this night’s Nativity,
this one lifts its butterflying wings
like the soul’s silhouette
taken by an angeling force to heaven.
After owling, angeling, butterflying,
one must create Jesus as a verb.
Having witnessing these things,
limits are paining, as are knowings and doings.
The mouse must have been distracting
this owl from its offspring, thus it was Christing:
sacrificing itself for its children, thus fathering.
Seeing angels fluttering under the moonlight,
Hairshirting is my Church after living here,
after travelling through East of Eden in daylight.
Simplifying the Word---so heartwrenching---near
dawn or dusk, being as a penumbra’s cusp
I am Giotto’s halo in human form, keeper
of the haze, smoke, storm, and most of all, cup
from my own despairing.
Always there more to God than pain.
Churching myself is my work, thus by expressing
this foresting, owling, angeling, butterflying,
I narrate my life’s kingdom.
Only beautiful words for my Beatrice, Florence,
and re-Edening.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
It was the dead of winter,
Or as close to winter as we could get.
It was January,
The wind would bite,
And my heart was weary.
It was a new year, but the past year's beating
Had taken its toll.
My lion's heart had diminished,
It had fled along with the cold.
There were gray clouds in the sky,
Rain pounding on the windows,
Along with sleep-dreary conversations with friends,
And a fog in my heart.
There were no birds,
There was no music, no orchestra,
There was no sunbeam, no moonray,
But there you were all the same.
And i looked, i stared, i memorized.
The intense hooded eyes,
The ponytailed black hair,
The almost there biker's beard,
The unsure gait,
The intimidating presence.
Committed them to memory,
So i could write about it later, much later.
You intimidated me, made me unsure,
And i was intrigued.
Here i was in a world of gray,
And a ball of darkness passes my peripheral vision.
Of course i had to know your name,
Of course i had to talk to you.
And i thought i'd be done after that.
I was awakened.
And my courage returned, albeit reluctantly.
Then we talked, and talked about fate,
About the present, the future, never the past.
I liked it that way.
How impersonal, yet intimate it was.
It was the most fun i'd had in a while,
You were the sun, the moon, the stars or
The deep darkness of space
Beneath the fading gray clouds,
I Never did find out.
After the weary heartwrenching wars,
You were the decision.
Whether i won or lost,
I barely cared, all i knew,
Was that you were the end.
And it was all that mattered.
I ended.
I ended with the thought of you,
Two conversations with you,
A smile, a wave, a "goodbye, and good luck, friend".
It was all i ever wanted, and all i ever feared.
And it was glorious.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
Hey guys! Please don't hate me for not posting something in a while, I've just been having trouble finding inspiration. I've been caught up in my religious studies, plus I've been working on a book! Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for the lack of poetry. Now that it's summer, I have to be responsible for setting time aside to write -- and it's harder than I thought. My mind has been wondering tonight, plus I just got back from a pleasant lake vacation, so I expect at least something in these next few days. Until then, here's a typed up version of scribbles from my notebook. They are just ideas that need developing, but I felt like I had to reach out to you guys. I love you all, and thank you for your support <3
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
7-6-15
It all started for freedom & fun, but now it's to forget you
The drinking started
in the name of fun freedom...
now it's to forget.
If that was the last time you ever saw me,
would you be satisfied or regretful?
If I died on my way home, or perhaps
disappeared from the face of the Earth,
would you feel the slightest bit of guilt?
Your call to action is nothing more than a soapbox whisper.
Your yarms of summer romance are nothing but a fisherman's platitudes.
You say that you miss me, yet you act like youre carrying on just fine. You talk a big game, but you don't know how to hit the ball -- or perhaps the most heartwrenching thought: you never intend to play. Just string me along, maybe for a while I'll trail behind because silly me still believes in fairytales and a mystical thing called "change."
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 4:15 AM UTC
To be in the same room,
To be within inches of someone else
To only feel a universe away.
My poetically
heartwrenching problem--
Entire disassociation.
It used to frighten me,
The crippling weight of
Weightlessness
Inessence and non-stimulation,
Bearing down on my soul in what I felt
To be a repentance of past-life sins--
For what did I do to deserve
Non-feeling?
The burden of nothingness
Is
By far
More burdensome
than the accumulation
Of feeling
Everything
All
At
Once.
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 5:06 PM UTC
On cold mornings
I always take a few minutes out of everyday to picture what it would feel like if you were still here
I imagine you laying next to me
holding my hand
kissing my forehead
on really cold mornings I swear I can still feel your touch
but when the minutes are up
I open my eyes
& you're there
& I'm here
its heartwrenching and horrendous
but that is the reality of this fairytale
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC