"mender" poems
Your heart, so tender
I take a fork and knife
And cut right through it
Tender
Enough to surrender
To me:
A breaker,
Not a mender
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 10:19 AM UTC
The days that pass nights that follow
Times of laughter pain and sorrow
None of which I would love more
You are my soul mender
My Soul mender
The sweet passion you bring
Like the blossoms in the spring
Ever so gentle ever so kind
It all brings me peace of mind
You are my soul mender
My soul mender
To piece together a tender heart
Instantly knowing just where to start
Loving gently beyond compare
Always taking away my air
Gently holding the love so tender
You are my soul mender
Holding gently my soul in hand
Guarding it from the dangers ahead
My sweet and loving soul mender
How can I thank you enough
For what you have done to my soul
You mend the damage
Of this once broken fool
Now completely fixed
Not a scratch in sight
I ask of you my sweet soul mender
Will you stay with me
Stay with me
Forever more
For this I ask of you
Will you marry me
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
He was the doctor that would destroy anything to claim he had healed it.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC
A mellow nose
Gorgeous as the moon
Mirrored in the lagoon
Your skin is tender
Your uniqueness is beauty
Of previously not seeing your splendor
Your smile makes me guilty
Love is your center
Kindness, your vitality
Light in the dark, a magic mender
Goddess of purity
White rose
A perfume dose
Peaceful as the moon
Mirrored in the lagoon
Your scent is the trip
And Paradise is my fate
If constantly smelling your friendship
Becomes an open gate
I will be your grip
For when you are desperate
Just accept the bee that wants your lips
To pollinate your fate
White rose
Striking a Pose
Shiny as the moon
Mirrored in the lagoon
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 7:57 AM UTC
You were the Barbie jeep engineer.
You were the 5-card pinochle player.
You were the gripe to do the dishes.
You were the patient mall bench sitter.
You were Elvis Presley records and
paper backed crime novels.
You were my new antivirus software.
You were the chatter in the middle of an
NCIS episode.
You were the "It's okay, sweetie" on the
other end of the phone.
You were the voice of every bathtime storybook.
You were the baking soda on my first wasp sting.
You were the green Ford Escort parked
outside my middle school every afternoon.
You were the loudest clap at my graduation.
You were the sticky caramel corn crumbs in the
living room that held the place together.
You were the laughter
You were the toolkit when my pictures hung crooked.
You were the cornerback baker, the pecan pie maker,
dance recital seat saver and the road trip driver.
You were the puppy-dog pill-giver and the
broken heart mender.
You were the church goer and the goodness seeker.
You were the black-haired teaser and the
very best secret keeper.
You were a prideful wig wearer and
wheelchair rider.
You were a cancer fighter.
You were my first call.
You still are.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
You're the light
In a sea of reeds.
Salt clinging to hair
Bubbles kissing eyelids.
You're the grains in my toes,
Crashing euphoria.
A wave
Returning when the moon calls the tides.
You're a feather
Without a reason to fly
Or bird to pay homage.
Skin of a seal
Sliding peacefully;
secrets of past storms
leaving bellies weathered.
You're the mender of flesh
Torn on tiny pebbles.
Each budding heart
Back to the sea,
To mend in the only arms
Guaranteed to remember my name.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
She's beautiful in her own way,
She smiles even when she's having a bad day,
She can be delicate but she's still strong ,
She's not proud ,she admits her wrong,
Words don't bring her down,
She knows noone is worth turning her smile into a frown,
She doesn't look down on others,
She feels how it would be like to be one of their mothers,
She speaks her mind ,
She believes in it there's wisdom someone could find.
She's a hardworker ,
And she wouldn't ever want to be a heartbreaker,
But a heart mender she would be.
She can pray..
She's a woman,a great one.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
These eyes of mine
Have seen
Beyond the imaginary lines of being,
A broken heart mend over the written word shared by those whose wisdom has surpassed time,
Beautiful sunsets painted over gray lines by poets who know that you'll never know the true meaning of joy without a little pain paving the way.
I have wandered in the caves of those who dare to etch their souls on paper, and shun their thoughts to wondering eyes,
To give meaning to the lives of many, direction to the gypsey, and a mender for the torn,
Walked more than a mile in shoes of so many to find the quintessence of broken glasses, the epitome of troubled souls, and the essence of being,
Beautiful melodies that soothe the soul through the ears of a deaf man,
The rhythm of a heart in love that sickens the soul, invades the thoughts and leaves every inch of the body longing,
A memory of a love so precious, unforgettable that it's fragrance lingers still from a distant memory,
And when all is lost and plundered,
Your words are like a thread that sews patch after patch across my torn silhouette
It's a pleasure
To have read so many inspiring, beautiful and heartfelt poetry in here.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
I once knew a girl who was a collector of broken things,
From the chipped porcelain jewellery boxes
And fractured photo frames
To me, the most broken object of all
She liked to fix these damaged objects
Because she saw the beauty that lay in them
And carefully she glued me back,
each piece held together by her love
until I was whole again.
(u.f.m)
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Aureole...Manna's descent like showering
waveforms.
Eyes hungering...upturned, cloven in rapture.
Mouth slants open in a salivary click--
come the incantations...come the
anatomical sway of microcosm.
Intergalactic cynosure, pariah, shaman--
mangy interloper teaching wind to dance!
Tamer of the subconscious...mender of schism!
Anathema to Gaia's Satanic Stewards!
To be sought in the House of Aquarius,
haunting its foundation that it may uphold.
The roads to and fro are as anagrams that
alter with the perceiver.
It is the second look, of what's cross with
what Is...and ever shall be--that gives rise
to disorientation...reincarnation.
O grant dancer of self-evidence, grant your
sundry incantations... yearning for Gaia's heart
of hearts.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
A Palette of Sunrise
Bronze spears waltz with pure aubergine
amid cauliflower cumulus –
gold touch-paper.
Sugar sprinkled wash with
candy pink bubble-burst
stains church spire and oak.
Saturated in spongy tangerine
night-shapes meld into broken egg yolk
coffee spills through fields.
Foggy wool tufts
grasp mushy-pea hillocks,
sweat drops from tired shoots.
If I was a mender of souls
I would prescribe
five minutes, twice a day.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
It rumbles as the storm begins
Frustration strikes all with in
Raging wars on peaceful land
In the end there is no lending hand
For bonds are ripped and torn
The mender is completely worn
Sick from furious waves
Full of overwhelming craze
The sea itself has been iced over
As unrealistic hopes dreadfully lower
The calm is so far into the distant
Its meaning becomes nonexistent
Misinterpreted loved ones
Are mistaken as the burden
The obscure truth is masked in doubt
Heavily hanging in the air
Such animosity, not a soul should ever bear
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 4:06 PM UTC
I want to happen with you
To occupy space
And time
Hand in hand
Arm in arm and
For the bed to be warm
Because there are two
I want to wear your possession
Like a title
An honour
Hand in hand
Arm in arm and
For the days recounting
To light our procession
I want to be your heart's mender
Of the cuts
Of words
Hand in hand
Arm in arm and
To point out the sunset
And cover black with splendour
I want to choose you again
From the crowd
Of the world
Hand in hand
Arm in arm and
To to turn the page
And keep writing your name
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 2:51 PM UTC
I try to be the friend,
that no one ever was to me.
Maybe one day,
I'll have someone who cares as much as me.
I try to be the heart-mender,
that no one cares to be.
Because it all ends the same,
with the heart breaking and no where to flea.
I try to be the class-clown,
that everyone adores with exceptions.
For some reason,
I was still being called a boring deception.
I try and I try to be someone I'm not,
that's the main reason for my style.
Because nobody will ever remember,
the girl with the shy smile.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 9:04 PM UTC
I am the borrowed time giver
I wait by the edges of beds
I prop up the corners and smooth out the wrinkles
I'm also the turner of heads
I am the lone sea breaker
My whisper it shepherds your dreams
You have awoken on a
Distant shore, it seems
I am the voice of antiquity
Tethered to leaves on the wind
I am the cloth that covers you
When you have sinned
I am the borrowed time lender
Your hope, it rides on my wings
I am the broken mind mender
All I can do is offer you these things
Mine is the touch of changes
Though none of them I can claim
I sweep up the mirror pieces
That reflect your shame
I am the blind leading the blind
I have no secret gift
The truth is what you'll find
When the veil you needn't lift
We are the worm food growers
The crawlers, they rule from below
They eat up the dead and squeeze out the living
And time marches on just so
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
Someone once told me
to mend a broken person
breaks the mender them self
I tried to rearrange their broken heart
But as I reassembled it
The shards of glass sunk into my skin
As if it was heavily pored.
My emotions fell down like hail
on a harsh winter's day. However
I felt the rain wash over me
Sending chills through my heart
Soaking me for all eternity
No one gave me a towel
To dab away the imbibed feelings
of everything, from love to hate
to lust and lies
Someone once told me
To mend a broken person
Breaks the mender them self
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
You took it from my hand
Dragged it through the mud
All the while I was standing there
Vision blurred by tears
For a moment there I couldn't breathe
My small frail body hurting all over
Trust shattered
Despair
Pain
Yearning for your old self again
But you where nowhere to be found
Only a two faced liar stood there
She was there too
Playing mender
Smiling at you behind my back
You dropped it
You took out your
Put it on a silver platter
Walked right past my miserable numb body
And you gave it to her
You chose her...
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
Sunshine fades away,
compared to her brightness
I wouldn't find another like her,
even if I traveled for light-years.
She makes the stars seem so insignificant,
Her beauty, so magnificent.
All that she is,
all that she will ever be,
for years to come, and years to go.
Her soul, glowing brighter then a million suns,
Yet so tender, a heart mender.
Seen so many, but she still shines the brightest,
So near, yet shes the furthest.
I must be persistent,
In order to brake her resistance.
Travel to the core of her love,
Maybe I'll find my self in it, as I did before..
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
I see you;
In the horses slowly trotting, riding along at the commands of their masters;
In the leaves clinging desperately to the vulnerable trees, left to the fate of the unrelenting breeze;
In the clouds drifting by, their shapes reforming at the will of the wind;
In the flowers wilting in the sun, screaming at their roots to find some source of water in this drought.
You go at the leisure of the ones who saddle your back,
and hold onto those hurt people, who angrily batter at your cowering form.
You mold yourself to others' preferences,
and are crushed by your god, looking for some hope he may have left you in this seemingly eternal despair.
I see you in my reflection, seeking some sort of break from an already fractured world.
You are broken and the world around you bent,
but there are ways to fix everything,
and I am studying to be a Mender.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Honesty could never be accepted
Sincerest apologies could never be forgiven
Strongest denial could never be heartfelt
Truths cannot be denied the right to speak
The lies were not simply displayed
For they were believed to be nervousness in the way
Hope that something would blossom
Where doubt had been the seed
Grow into beauty and loveliness
Not sorrow and bitterness
Deeply regretful of the part I played
Content with the knowledge
That it was not meant as utter deceit
Sorrowful of the pain you experienced
Regretful that I cannot separate the truth and the lies
Inside your own world of illusion
Ponder the secrets of life and fortune
Accepting that I am not the mender of lives
No more control over fate and creation
Than I ever did possess
Leaving the weaving of life’s web
To the trio, the sisters of fate
Jan 20, 2010
Jan 20, 2010 at 7:38 AM UTC
Press your fiber through my soul,
As thread to needle be,
Know that that there is more besides,
Just what the eye can see.
Arm yourself, quite rightly,
As thimble is to thumb.
Save repeated pinpricks,
Make thy mender numb.
Jul 20, 2011
Jul 20, 2011 at 12:07 PM UTC
***** our fingers, we do. on the porcelain and the rampions.
we are twisted into crapes, the shape of which
are halcyon, though we refrain from them.
We are ' something else '.
the salad is the farce and the painting; yes !
the gruel and the cinders in the mock turtle soup
of our living quince and the meddling
of our every-ness.
clink our eyelids. we do. on the lamp-stand in the Hampton's
we are gifted and innate. the grey twitch
accounts for them bones we contain from sin.
We are " something felt "
the ballad is the Art and the Nothing;
yes ...
the cruel, is the mender, in our lost little group
of unseasoned heckling and
our Winter's
truth,
and absinthe.
But there's Something Else.
and Nothing
Less....
than Atlas.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
Pacify my war-torn soul
With your white-flag lips
And breath of sun.
My body needs peace
And it wants to surrender
To a gentler place
Where touches are tender.
Pacify my warring spirit
With your knock-out fists
And soldier's gun.
My body aches to ache
And pain is my sender
To a beautiful place
Where malice is mender.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 2:09 AM UTC
I'm a bartender
Scar-mender
Heart defender
On another ******
Ready for a hard winter
Never a pretender
Opposite of a large spender
Certainly not anyone's number one contender
The one who's better
Yet often told never
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 12:46 PM UTC