"mends" poems
*I'm still unable to see your view of me
from your ocean blue eyes
you say it's a sight to see forever
your love, never disguised
I stumble in confusion
as to why you see me the way you do
It breaks my heart and mends me
to feel this love between me and you
You're the only one to love me this way
forever keep me in your sights
never let us lose this love we share
that I see deep in your ocean blue eyes*
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
in the night time,
Until I align in the night time,
They'll never be another life time,
Where me and you once had,
But I come alive in the night time,
Its never completely staged in the
Night time,
Days where I would spend all of
My time,
With you,
No other pleasure could match,
Until I change in the night time,
Until I make a mends in the night time,
And every single day the light will pass,
Nothing ever last,
But the flowers in my garden do,
I see stars,
Is this kidding to you.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 7:53 PM UTC
The strings
the way I pluck it
gives extra strength
to my soul.
The notes
I try to read
drives my thirst
spirit.
The lyrics
I write in a paper
expresses every single
emotion.
The music
I hear and I make
mends shattered
feeling.
But
The passion
I have
and truly love
seems fading.
The comparison
I get from others
is breaking every
notes.
The people
who are showing that
I am no good
made my paper empty.
Discouragement
scrapes the willing
and hoping
heart.
-Steph Dionisio, July 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.
On the day the world ends
Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels’ trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
Yet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
There will be no other end of the world,
There will be no other end of the world.
4.1k
Two soldiers as they walk
Lamenting with much despair
Far away from that deadly grip
Of fear and deprivation
For every person everywhere
In every country tribe and nation.
Disposing of those clothes they wore
Casting away without hesitation
Removing reminders of that deadly war
Making mends and new relations
Building a world like never before
With tears of joy on this special occasion.
Two soldiers whose lives were on the line
Head towards a brand new day
They raise their hopes for the very first time
Since they were detained so far away
Behind those enemy lines
Celebrating better times and future days .
Two soldiers together in company
Telling tales of those fearsome times
Happy now they are safe and free
With parties and gatherings in the street
Time now to raise a glass of wine
Alive and standing on there feet .
So long you guns and bombs
Upon this earth you did not belong
You created a world of fear
But now those days are dead and gone
And peace time now is here
Let's hope one day the world will stand as one.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 4:13 PM UTC
Metamorphosis from the start of the day,
January’s promises,
had so much to say.
The beginning of the cycle,
to the end of the new.
The remnant of the spring morning dew
moves summer breeze
into leaves of a green hue,
and the Heartache of July.
The sun rose and set with You,
until it rained
and the skies once again turned a somber shade of familiar blue.
Metamorphosis of the self,
turning like a snake.
Shedding the skin of heartache and
remaking myself, again.
Metamorphosis I bloom and break,
I wither and wake
through the hardships of the year,
taking a new found shape
of me-
The moon wanes and waxes,
while the heart mends and sax’s
continue to play sweet melodies from the month of May,
and we are reminded of the day
that breaks and dawns.
The body yawns
from the weight of the year.
Yet still, the metamorphosis blooms and births
a new beacon of light,
preparing herself for the thirty-first night
and the turn of the calendar, again.
Dec 18, 2022
Dec 18, 2022 at 9:49 PM UTC
You know that saying,
"Misery loves company."?
Well, I disagree.
I think misery loves to isolate.
It loves to tell you that you're only meant to be alone.
Because when your misery is made known,
That is when others' love for you is shone.
And misery cannot dwell in a place that love now owns.
Because love mends the brokenness that misery had once sewn.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
i once met a man
who said he wouldn't cry because
he couldn't be seen as "weak."
i smiled in mournful pity.
tears are not a weakness
but a reflection of your heart tearing
tears stream from your eyes
as rain runs down a window pane
and soon the clouds pass
and the rain stops
and the sun dries your tears and mends your heart
and you remember why you are strong;
you are human
and your emotion is the most powerful strength there is
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet,
Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street.
Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie.
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!
Five and twenty ponies,
Trotting through the dark—
Brandy for the Parson,
‘Baccy for the Clerk;
Laces for a lady, letters for a spy,
And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!
Running round the woodlump if you chance to find
Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine,
Don’t you shout to come and look, nor use ’em for your play.
Put the brishwood back again—and they’ll be gone next day!
If you see the stable-door setting open wide;
If you see a tired horse lying down inside;
If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore;
If the lining’s wet and warm—don’t you ask no more!
If you meet King George’s men, dressed in blue and red,
You be carefull what you say, and mindful what is said.
If they call you “pretty maid,” and chuck you ’neath the chin,
Don’t you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one’s been!
Knocks and footsteps round the house—whistles after dark—
You’ve no call for running out till the house-dogs bark.
Trusty’s here, and Pincher’s here, and see how dumb they lie—
They don’t fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by!
If you do as you’ve been told, ‘likely there’s a chance,
You’ll be given a dainty doll, all the way from France,
With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood—
A present from the Gentlemen, along o’ being good!
Five and twenty ponies,
Trotting through the dark—
Brandy for the Parson,
‘Baccy for the Clerk;
Them that asks no questions isn’t told a lie—
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen bo by!
3.3k
Unto whose use the pregnant suns are poised,
With idiot moons and stars retracting stars?
Creep thou between—thy coming’s all unnoised.
Heaven hath her high, as Earth her baser, wars.
Heir to these tumults, this affright, that fray
(By Adam’s, fathers’, own, sin bound alway);
Peer up, draw out thy horoscope and say
Which planet mends thy threadbare fate, or mars.
2.8k
I am often in awe of your wild mind,
Despite your defences, I can see you are kind,
I know you believe me to be fickle and blind,
But I see you, and the reason for the wall you hide behind.
There is wonder and beauty that light up your eyes,
Yet everyone falls in love with your careful disguise,
Pain finds its way through your laughs and lies,
And there is sorrow within the man, that like a child, cries.
You can turn all the frowns that you see to a smile,
And upon seeing you, my clouds are cleared for a while,
But who mends the hurt that caused your soul's exile?
And when will you turn to face your denial?
Your cheer does not mask the tragedy inside,
Altruism will not change what you're trying to hide,
Unreachable, unfathomable- two ideas within you, allied,
To win the battle over self and thus deem you fortified.
But this barricade will not defend against flame,
Nature is power and emotion is the same,
We are already on fire, to deny it is insane,
So feel what you will, break the shackles of shame.
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 10:31 AM UTC
The worst kind of suffering is the kind that is silent
Where you're left wondering where your voice went
Did it retreat?
Your words and their ears will never meet
Like a curse
You can't scream out for a nurse
And you can't ask if it'll keep getting worse
The water. Your lungs it'll immerse
The only communication is on your face and called remorse
It never ends
It never mends
You just give it an inner home
and accommodate for it to stay
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 4:52 AM UTC
I break my own heart with hope
that it mends stronger,
and that others reach out to help.
i cling to false independence,
and bitterly bite back blood and anger,
sadness and complacence.
i create a fortress in my mind,
constructed, brick by brick,
to shield me and complain
when no one finds their way inside.
i'm not sure what i hate more-- everyone else?
or me.
Jul 16, 2023
Jul 16, 2023 at 2:40 AM UTC
Wildly the time flies
Moments passing in a flash
People and places never staying
Even when you wish they would.
Quickly hope ensues
That maybe they can stay
Stay near, young, and innocent
Never changing from who they were
Then despair crashes
And releases that hope
Because people change and grow
And maybe leave you behind to move
Softly longing creeps
Into your heart
Grips your mind and stays
Vowing never to let you forget
The past and how things were then
When all was perfect and true
Two hearts combined to one
Shattering the peace
Daringly you wait
For a moment to return
And bring you back to a time
A time without the pain of knowing
Slowly wanting builds
Anticipation grows cautiously
Know the pain, and the excitement at
Knowing the people you once knew again
Gracefully, curiosity sits
Patiently waiting for a moment
To spring forth and explore the world
That was left behind, gone, but not missing
Boldly excitement wanders
And reaches out to those ones
That left you behind to be alone
While still remembering who you were
Only to be reminded of pain once again
Reminded that time isn’t the healer
That mends everything broken
Only knowing hope does.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
Dark is to light, as black to white.
When we write, from what place?
I wrote,
dwelling there,
amongst the shadows,
without face; leeching for love,
my cup empty,
heart scattered into pieces.
I write,
divinely guided;
exploring unclimbed mountains,
where weakness and courage elope,
advancing towards freedom,
My cup fills,
healing below the glimmers of hope.
I accept,
my world of black,
as it mends into white,
for I know, what is in the dark,
is to rise to meet light.
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 4:10 PM UTC
Everyone seems to do, just fine on thier own
How come I can't stand, the thought of being alone
I'm spiraling down
Taking the innocent with me
I don't think I'll ever have the strength, I see in so many.
Darkness and silence surround me,
My horendous thoughts drowned me,
Happiness pursuades me
It pushes and it grinds
But I can't seem to find, the stability
Everyone has but, I.
I pout and vent at those around me
I give off an aura of nothing, but meloncholy
My vibes I send, aren't what you wish
If I could change these emotions
Trust me, I would in a flip
But I am stuck in a state
Of which I cannot explain
Its costing me everything; my life and my friends
None of them can feel, the pain that transends
So why be around me
I'm a burden with no mends.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 2:02 PM UTC
Postpartum epiphanies
I'm shuddering against a stonewall
taking into myself the smoke,
snowy hills and the quiet of the
pine trees
I feel awake as the noise in my
head starts to dissipate
I go under water between thoughts
and comeback up for air once a
conscious realization dawns as
sentences
blooming in my third eye
The solitude in these mountains is
medicine for me like lighting sage
it mends the holes I possess in
my aorta
This large Earth is turning soft
I can't trace it in the swift grey clouds
or the suns hide and seek game
I'm tongue-tied on the ecliptic orbits
I trip over the luminaries movement
The trees whisper faint
stories but i am
ear-less to their memories
I wish I could close my eyes and
fall asleep to their song-tales
like a child at bedtime
I'm faceless to this circumstance
I feel like shattered glass
The future seems at once
both short-sighted and vast
I'm getting through on faith
believing my time is precious
and too rare to spend it in a cage
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
you hurted me
but then I lay in bed
thinking about your kiss
to help me fall asleep
it doesn’t feel fair
that the chaos of loving you
breaks my heart
but mends all the pieces right back
Nov 8, 2022
Nov 8, 2022 at 11:01 PM UTC
fill a tub with rose petals
as the faucet cries
no time to mourn anyone
now
guitar hums with a slowness
i don't seem to remember
a lonely pain underwater
emotionless motionless
water mends
neck deep
when will the violin scream
when it does
promise me
you can't hear it either
from way down here
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
Is poetry the last bastion of the scarred mass of humanity lost to the subtle truth that words are signs from the divine that we are all one and nothing, because if so then I must hope that mine are worth the lasting
If what is both false and true heard by no one but the mute passed trembling from his unused lips sealed with venom by a scarlet kiss and gassed silently on by occultist grips narrowly worth the waiting
Then and only then will we learn both the where and when as the spirit goes on laughing
Falling further farther down clutching tightly golden crowns mimicking Gods with emboldened sounds riveting emotion flicker round
Theater is what we’re asking
Days upon days without any end the trigger lingers shoot again imprisoned here by our own command lost in thought not acting
What will it be our own device to save us suffering from the pain and strife the mortal coil lust and vice perpetually worth the asking
The snake he calls with warm lit clouds and the sun is ever shining
Uproot the tree out of sodden ground the branches broken crash and pound
litter ridden strewn across the burial mound the eagle cries in distance
Sparrow flies upon the wing angels make joy and forever sing our ears in whispers but never bring consistently the frequency to our brains
My foot falls but once upon the wither winds softly like a child carrying me to the end
the bridge between the forest creek meandering mends uplifting me from sorrow.
So long until tomorrow.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
Making mistakes
Lying
Doing the wrong thing
It's all added up
The pills
The drugs
The attempts at sleep
Nothing mends
My broken soul
Anxiety attacks
Like a lion
Does to its prey
I'm just a victim
Of my own mind
Ruining any chance
I have at survival
Much less happiness
My thoughts to end it all
Overwhelm my thinking process
I want to disappear
And never return
I don't want anybody
To know who I am
I don't even want to know
Myself
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:17 PM UTC
6.02 a.m.
sunlight pries your eyes open and i
meet you for the ****** time again and again
nothing mends and breaks my heart more than watching
you fall in love with a novel fragment of me every day
9.35 a.m.
i toast bread with both eyes closed
and i let them char like the edges of my heart
you tell me last thursday's joke
but i erupt into hilarity, anyway
3.17 p.m.
nostalgia is a side-effect of forgetting
you reminisce about knitting parties we never threw
between giggles, i wonder how your words are needles
that pick all of the right places
7.43 p.m.
this world is a stygian dystopia
but you, you are my sole scintilla of colour
i feed you blatant lies for dinner
only to let you sleep with a peace of mind
11.59 p.m.
i watch you fall asleep to the rhythm of my silence
there are all types of silences and distances
but this
this is the worst kind
please, don't forget
to remember
me.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
Ive got an Angel watchin
His tattered wings wrapped round my shoulder
Beaten, I lay broken, in tattered Angel wings
Bruised, I am battered, on tattered Angel wings.
Slowly I weaken, consciousness is gone
Bruises becomes badges, where bleeding used to be
Broken bones mend like solid stone, Granite on my feet
Ive got an Angel with tattered wings.
Ive got an Angel watchin
He mends the mangled mind, manic, megalomaniacal
He takes the blows my soul cant handle
Ive got an Angel with tattered wings.
Ive never said thank you for all that hes done
But without God, he would be none
So I give thanks to God
For the Angel with tattered wings.
His feathers in disarray, some missing
Wounds Garnered from a life commanded to protect one
Commanded to serve, no matter the cost, taking on what I lost
Ive got an Angel with tattered wings and when I'm taking
a leave from me he brings me back my sanity.
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 12:07 PM UTC
Heavy the weight that one must carry when things start to come apart,
Emotions unbound a soul in sorrow the burdens of a troubled heart;
I will be your friend and while your heart mends I will share in your joys and sorrow,
And wait for that day when you finally say, things will be better tomorrow.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC