Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"lionhearted" poems
she sat on a driftwood throne at her feet lay the ruins of a stone man her hair a wild world of winds draws you into her hurricane eyes her lip a forest of meanings tender and soft a single loose tear like a wild horse run free she sat on a driftwood throne in all her glory sun and salt water cadence to the living breathing dream song of existence untainted and now another song intrudes one of loves lionhearted and bold seafarer's son come of age come seeking courtship of her soft hand to be bound in the silken desire's both hot and sweet and the dark ones such shy girl dare not speak he brushes away the sand from her soft thigh and within his mind romances such sweet tender spot with a reign of kisses but just then she arose graceful like the soft beatings of dove's wing and emerging from the veil of his minds fanciful dreams she laid before him her sandpaper eyes so intense that summer sounds like children at play and such soothing tones could not hide her behind he withdraws still no more than a child in her eyes she desires a stronger, a true love one that is not a fleeting fancy dream one of a man who can speak his heart the sand had invaded her driftwood throne so into the dusk she sauntered slowly with graceful flow trailing his eyes behind her like glories of wishes like worshiping doves for such beauties perfection he will return some day a man once he has learned
0
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
driftwood throne
Four years later, and I still sit up in the same bed at night with salt-stained cheeks. I wonder how many lives have been lost in between these sheets. how many loves are still embedded in the fibers of the comforter, how many rib pieces lay stashed in the pillows from those horrible, heavy sobs. You know the ones, Where the fire dies in your hot air-balloon lungs, and they collapse in on themselves. You can’t say anything, or feel anything but the crushing weight of your self inflicted silence. All you can do is gasp, and gasp, and gasp for breath, but nothing comes out. It never does. No one ever knows how much your heart bleeds for the people you can’t stand. You offer them olive branches, while they offer you bile, and spit poison into your eyes with each syllable from their God-forsaken lips. Do you remember when Jesus loved you? When His face shined upon you, and He kissed the top of your head telling you that the light you possessed was greater than the shadow it created? He was right. But you’re afraid of the dark, and have to turn on every light in the house just to make it to the bathroom. So what good are your heroics if you burn yourself from the flame inside you? You were supposed to be great. You were one of the chosen ones, the Lionhearted heroine with a heart meant to fit inside two people, but it was stuck in your small frame by mistake. You can’t dance to a heartbeat that powerful. Your bones know how to waltz, but they’re old and tired from the thousands of dances from the thousands of lives before yours. You understand, don’t you? Your hips just don’t curve like they used to. But when the song ends, and quarter notes turn into full rests, maybe then you’ll get some sleep. We both need it.
0
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 1:54 AM UTC
Bildungsroman
Four years later, and I still sit up in the same bed at night with salt-stained cheeks. I wonder how many lives have been lost in between these sheets. how many loves are still embedded in the fibers of the comforter, how many rib pieces lay stashed in the pillows from those horrible, heavy sobs. You know the ones, Where the fire dies in your hot air-balloon lungs, and they collapse in on themselves. You can’t say anything, or feel anything but the crushing weight of your self inflicted silence. All you can do is gasp, and gasp, and gasp for breath, but nothing comes out. It never does. No one ever knows how much your heart bleeds for the people you can’t stand. You offer them olive branches, while they offer you bile, and spit poison into your eyes with each syllable from their God-forsaken lips. Do you remember when Jesus loved you? When His face shined upon you, and He kissed the top of your head telling you that the light you possessed was greater than the shadow it created? He was right. But you’re afraid of the dark, and have to turn on every light in the house just to make it to the bathroom. So what good are your heroics if you burn yourself from the flame inside you? You were supposed to be great. You were one of the chosen ones, the Lionhearted heroine with a heart meant to fit inside two people, but it was stuck in your small frame by mistake. You can’t dance to a heartbeat that powerful. Your bones know how to waltz, but they’re old and tired from the thousands of dances from the thousands of lives before yours. You understand, don’t you? Your hips just don’t curve like they used to. But when the song ends, and quarter notes turn into full rests, maybe then you’ll get some sleep. We both need it.
Continue reading...
31
Do not stretch your fingers in my direction; I am not your ******* or your heroine; I am no drug to be addicted to. My body is bruised and I am bent out of shape; My ankles are all ninety degree angles; And my knuckles are caked in golden hues. The callouses on my heels are peeling; And your spitfire attitude is exhausting. "Simmer down, firecracker; You lionhearted girl." I'm flying at the speed of light; I am going to crash, a beaten down piñata; And nobody will pick up the pieces. Simmer down, firecracker. I'll simmer down when I'm dead. (a.m.c.)
0
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
{simmer down, firecracker}
I once met this French man. Just a brief encounter; but towards the end of it he looked at me with almost pensive eyes, slowly he said "I could love you". I laughed aloud. Was it cultural differences for him to have said that so casually? Or was he just the brave sort? I mocked him, of course. Condemned his lionhearted statement even. His eyes never left me, all the while, they looked like a sad storm now. Like somehow he already misses me. And that was the last time I saw him. Despite him asking to take me out to my favourite restaurant. Despite him asking to take me camping underneath the stars, Or for a midnight swim. All the things I like, really. A year later, and I'm still thinking about this beautiful, brave French man. And what could have been. Haunted by his sugar heart. But it wasn't my colour to romanticise happiness, or the feeling of being wanted. But he was right and, I was wrong. He could have loved me. I just didn't let him. Wherever you are in the world, I am sorry. I hope you have a good life.
0
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
I Could Have Loved Me Too.
How fragile we are To be finite beings In infinite wonder and Wandering How frail we are To block out the life giving sun With the shade of technology and The shroud of mass media While still somehow managing to Shelter ourselves from reality Take a step back and Take a look up Everyone would benefit from this But to ask it of all Would be an order too tall Some of us can See straight through the clouds To the truth beyond and We know there is a burning answer But don't let that fool you Because let's face it: Not every question Has the right response Not every problem Was meant to be resolved Everything happens for a reason I'm told But the hardest part Is figuring out if it's good or bad It's called life Because you have to be there To live it and Prove that you're alive It's called laughter Because you have to lean back and Let go and Just let it happen It's called love Because you have to really try and Learn from each other To make it legitimate and Lasting and Real So I don't mean to discourage any of you Because everything is going to be quite alright Just don't forget when your time comes To be fearless and ready to fight
0
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 4:41 PM UTC
-A Lionhearted Awareness-
If you only knew how much you meant to me Then you would understand how we're meant to be When you smile at me with those beautiful stars Everything stops, everything is silent, the moment is ours Your eyes. A golden flame cascades as a flowing green meadow dies You're a lion heart. Courageous and brave. You had pride from the start A hurricane of thoughts of you begin in my head I'm blindfolded. Where am I being lead? Light overcomes darkness. Joyous bells ring And there in front of me stands My lionhearted king.
0
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
Lionhearted King.
i. lionhearted girl with teeth and ambitions bared in a gentle heart. ii. the strongest metals between iron and silver are your elements. iii. a force of nature like a warm ray of sunshine on a winter day.
0
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
triumvirate
My best friend's younger brother was cornered by older girls today and punched in the eye— because he wasn't athletic and they thought that made him weak. Haven, kiddo, let me tell you: in that moment, (any moment,) you were anything but weak. I promise you with all my heart that you are and always will be stronger than all those girls combined. Because even after just eleven years, you know a lot more than a lot of adults out there. You've been the little guy, but you stand up for the little guy, too; and you're honest; and most importantly, you never forget to say "I love you." And Haven, just remember: no matter what anybody tries to etch into your self-esteem, you are not weak. You are lionhearted, which also means that sometimes people will underestimate you because of how gentle you are. But don't ever apologize for that. They don't call the lion the King of the Sahara for nothing.
0
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 9:08 AM UTC
Lionhearted
A four corner chamber where hardship intrudes and darkness seems to be endless Years of agony and anguish have make the souls numb yet still too sensitive The anxious ones silenced their mouth while those lionhearted tried to oppose but failed as success is hard to reach Pessimism? Many candles of aspirations and hopes had flickered to its death and the fires that are still luminous are relying with prayers They are all in place but they don't know where they are heading as the chamber changed the routes to the paradise where they must be The chamber separates their wisdom and strangles their thoughts to create mindless puppets that forbids to move unless controlled But don't worry, as you can be free from here moving to a wider chamber where you will conquer "life" a darker place full of inevitable trouble
0
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
The Chamber
Serenity under the ripe lurid sun The steady breeze of air From the mountain peak Created sublime hymns of rebirth and restoration And filled the chasm in my heart Through and through Enclosed in auroras majestic luminescence Weightless and lionhearted Unconstrained by trivialities Of everyday obligations I pondered on the authenticity Of new found clarity As I fed on the tantalizing aroma of euphoria I savoured each breath When I emerged From the picturesque surrounds I prayed I had abandoned all my convictions In the field of yellow stained daffodils.
0
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
The Daffodils
people say to me so often, "you're so strong." "I don't know how you deal." "I couldn't handle that." but do you know why I'm "so strong"? it's because I've always had to fight. it's because every horrible thing that I have ever been through made me this way. it's because every time I've been ******* over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten.. I got up, brushed myself off and kept it moving. it's because I believed in brighter days and overcoming the obstacles that life threw at me to get there. but don't get the wrong idea. i've broken down so many times, you couldn't fathom. wanted to end my life so many times, you can't imagine. so please don't doubt.. that I've never been weak. never been brought to my knees. begging God to help me please. i've been through it. the whole 'why me, why here, why now'. but I've learned that you don't question the process because later is greater. you don't fight the process, just have faith in the Creator. you gotta trust the process so you can see the progress. And I've heard that whatever a man thinks he is, so shall he be. Therefore, I am.. Powerful. I am.. Courageous. I am.. Wise. I am.. Lionhearted. I am... Strength. [r.r.r.w]
0
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
strength/I am.
I've put courage in my heart and lightning in my hand I strike the ground with enough force to topple buildings My war cry is heard from every mountain My spirit, an eternal flame burning as bright as the sun And my tenacity, equal to a thousand lions My war mask hides all fear
0
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
Lionhearted
Breakups are for the brave:- those who do not fear to continue their lives alone when the bi-cycle ends and their ride or die leaves when the ride has died. Those courageous enough to carry themselves up when their lover lets them down and those valorous enough to accept that they will never hear words of the person that called them dear because those words now deafen the heart’s ear. Breakups are for those ready to be the latest lionhearted lonely losers—the spunky sobbing second-soulmate-seekers. No coward can part with the person that pats their body parts when life poses pitiless; no one has ever said “it’s over” and meant it without being valiant- and so, the next time you feel you are done, I hope you will be brave enough to be done.
0
Nov 10, 2022
Nov 10, 2022 at 7:16 AM UTC
Breakups are for the brave
Your llove is nectarous Yes I said nectarous It is of nature It is delicious and sweet Your love is courageous It is brave and fearless Your love is bold Your love is daring Your love is lionhearted Your love is venturesome Your love is kind Your love is beautiful Your love is perfection but most importantly your love is mine.
0
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
your love
you are made of many girls, all longing to be lighter, softer, sweeter, less hurt, less intense, not a burden to bear. your kiss scalds with the promise of forevers. you swore your allegiance to boys who were unsure of you, left them dizzied & breathless, yearning for the empty space you once filled, the missing lodestone, left them lost. you struggled ceaselessly through the fire, rubbed salt in your own wounds. i can still trace the story of your suffering in scar tissue sewn across wrists. but you need never apologize. the wildfires burning in your wake may have scorched & singed your skin, but you are not yet scattered ashes. do not say ‘I’m sorry’ for survival. your brain is a battleground, marred with years of misuse, but you need never apologize for what you are. when they ask about your flaws, tell them what it took to get from then to now. tell them you are lionhearted. remember, you are a cosmic body. your bones are made of starstuff & when you breathe in, welcome the universe filling your lungs.
0
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
oh, sister
i lost myself so i went for a drive & the cracked payment led me here i then pulled to the side on that foggy night ride & remembered my dreams & the mountains i'd climbed & the dragons i'd slain & the nights i was weak - but decided to stay, if only for one more try to just stay just stay, oh please, please stay. so on that foggy night drive i found myself on the edge of that bridge just repeating a phrase & then i realized: my soul is fierce, my heart is brave, & from here is where all the best stories are made.
0
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 1:14 AM UTC
lionhearted
child, don't be afraid does the weight of the world feel heavy on your shoulders? does your love mirror the affection that you're given? do you feel alone when the lights go out? there's a glimmer of hope shining through the pavement can you see a new beginning, like the one you've been craving? is it enough to make you get through the day? or are your demons chasing you, throwing you back into the fray? child, don't be afraid are you aware that you are the only one in the world? can you see how lovely you have the potential to be? do you have the courage to wholeheartedly be yourself? please, don't feel alone when it all comes crashing down.
0
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 3:47 PM UTC
lionhearted prince
*Serenity under the ripe lurid sun The steady breeze of air From the mountain peak Created sublime hymns of rebirth and restoration And filled the chasm in my heart Through and through Enclosed in auroras majestic luminescence Weightless and lionhearted Unconstrained by trivialities Of everyday obligations I pondered on the authenticity Of new found clarity As I fed on the tantalizing aroma of euphoria I savoured each breath When I emerged From the picturesque surrounds I prayed I had abandoned all my convictions In the field of yellow stained daffodils*
0
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 1:27 AM UTC
The Daffodils- March 2014
Be my muse Entangle me with fear A blossoming lotus Makes me lionhearted Quickly still Powerful will Gather the disseminated members We shall proceed to the next The chassis is ready Caress my heart Be my muse Embodied in violet It sinks to my bones Elegance perceived Luminosity received
0
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC
Embraced
I cut off two fingers from the hand of the poet who can’t stop from writing the hymns of her. I put them in my ears so I could escape the redundant song About the girl with the face that inspired the seas and it’s depths And the sun And the moon And the stars And a spirit that defeated them all I would’ve used two of my own, but I need all 10 to compose this sacrilegious psalm Because I value Beauty not Although I guess it’s only me They’ll adorn your scars as long as they don’t bleed and applaud your broken bones as long as they aren’t visible through busted seams And they live to hear her story No matter how old or recent But If you look like the hell you’ve gone through they’d rather you just Didn’t. Or perhaps you prefer that narrative of hate And slaughter And lust But no matter how many time it’s spun I still can’t seem to trust The girl with the mind that dared to lock eyes with the void and it’s breadth And time And space And death And a soul that embraced them all She’s prayed for the devil one too many times and that’s probably why he won’t leave her alone Cause she’ll tell you her name is fearless And that she’s mystical and cold But really she’s Banality And her lionhearted stories Old I suppose it’s not her fault Nor is it Beauty’s either That their tales are all derivative And clichéd, their Author’s leisure They’re shrines to archetypal aspiration Overwatered brain garden Concept vegetation So I pulled up Beauty’s roots And those of Banality too And reveled in their surprise as a **** like me ripped them from the view. And I plant them here with me amongst the blooming Apostasies And how willingly they drink My Eucharist of impiety And now I sit with open veins And written in my blood this Antiphon remains But since we’re all just echoes in the void I’ll know you’re lying if you say you didn’t lick your fingers anyway when turning the pages of this introit
0
Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
Beauty and Banality
I cut off two fingers from the hand of the poet who can’t stop from writing the hymns of her. I put them in my ears so I could escape the redundant song About the girl with the face that inspired the seas and it’s depths And the sun And the moon And the stars And a spirit that defeated them all I would’ve used two of my own, but I need all 10 to compose this sacrilegious psalm Because I value Beauty not Although I guess it’s only me They’ll adorn your scars as long as they don’t bleed and applaud your broken bones as long as they aren’t visible through busted seams And they live to hear her story No matter how old or recent But If you look like the hell you’ve gone through they’d rather you just Didn’t. Or perhaps you prefer that narrative of hate And slaughter And lust But no matter how many time it’s spun I still can’t seem to trust The girl with the mind that dared to lock eyes with the void and it’s breadth And time And space And death And a soul that embraced them all She’s prayed for the devil one too many times and that’s probably why he won’t leave her alone Cause she’ll tell you her name is fearless And that she’s mystical and cold But really she’s Banality And her lionhearted stories Old I suppose it’s not her fault Nor is it Beauty’s either That their tales are all derivative And clichéd, their Author’s leisure They’re shrines to archetypal aspiration Overwatered brain garden Concept vegetation So I pulled up Beauty’s roots And those of Banality too And reveled in their surprise as a **** like me ripped them from the view. And I plant them here with me amongst the blooming Apostasies And how willingly they drink My Eucharist of impiety And now I sit with open veins And written in my blood this Antiphon remains But since we’re all just echoes in the void I’ll know you’re lying if you say you didn’t lick your fingers anyway when turning the pages of this introit
Continue reading...
54