Vacant eyes stare unfocused
The body slouches over
Exhausted from the trials of life
Weary from the constant motion
Inside a heart aches
from the pain of being
Bleeding love that
will never be returned
Sleep comes easily
Whenever and wherever
Grateful to be taken away
to another dimension
Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved
Sanaa is hosting Open Link Night at D’Verse
When there was no hope in your world
I was there for you
When your heart ached
I soothed your pain
When you needed me the most
I let you lean on me
When you saw no future
I painted you a new one
When others hurt you
I consoled you
When you felt like there was no tomorrow
I cried with you
When you felt lost and sad
I comforted you
When you needed to remember
I made a note for you
When you were hungry
I nourished you
When lost in your own darkness
I would shine a light for you
I am your support, your crutch
Your everything
But making you whole
Has broken me in pieces
Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved
Word Prompts
Shine - RDP
Make a Note - Stream of Consciousness
Tender skin caught on barbed wire
surrounding an angry heart
Words trample on delicate feelings
just trying to comprehend the chaos
Eyes fill with salty tears
reacting to a life in shambles
Pain almost too hard to bear
Witnessing the demise
of what once was
Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved
Trample - Word of the Day
Tender - FOWC
Eyes - RDP
‘Amble’ - Stream of Consciousness
On this night of stars Where the velvet sky is clear and romance is in the scented air I look up into his face A place where I love to linger but my gaze is not returned The light is gone from his eyes His look is vacant and his mind clearly elsewhere He is present in body, though absent in spirit His heart, already taken back from me and likely given to another I knew then he was no longer mine My trail of tears was his parting gift Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Stream of Consciousness - Trail
Love is a thing of beauty Given unconditionally with the hope it be treasured Love is not a weapon kept in an arsenal and brought out in time of war Words are shared delicately In kindness and in the hope of reciprocity Words spoken from a heart may not be thrown back in anger Promises are the view into a future Shared with another in a commitment of love Promises made are to be kept and cannot be taken back in spite My white is your black The chasm between us filled grey where we are stuck in muddied indifference You are beyond my outstretched hand Pretending you don’t see me My end is your beginning Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Grace is hosting Open Link Night at D'Verse Poets Image by GimpWorkshop from Pixabay
Broken like the wing of an injured bird Broken is the silence of words never heard Broken like branches of a tree slowly bent and withered Crippled by the performance You so cruelly delivered Feeling shattered and broken in a thousand parts It is the sliver of glass that is optimism in my heart A heart left in pieces after you rendered your speech You have exited my world and you are now out of reach I struggle to sweep away the fragments of a dream Scattered in explosion A world of hope to redeem Broken is my spirit at the end of this line Broken is this heart You took what was mine Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Sanaa is hosting Open Link Night at D'Verse Poets tonight. I wrote this poem about four years ago.
This pain of mine cannot be denied My anger chooses not to bargain As I sink into the lows of depression I cling hopelessly to the habits formed by your dysfunction My crippled heart beats to the sound of a broken drum Acceptance is my demise because each day I die a little death Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Lisa is hosting Tuesday Poetics at D'Verse and has prompted us with the book On Death and Dying by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, M.D. In her book she says the five stages of grief are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. We can choose one or more of the stages in our poem.
A familiar song The scent of a summer flower Forgotten photographs falling from a book The broken plate glued lovingly back together Emotions long buried rising to the surface once more The pang of regret still stabs a lonely heart How did it go so wrong? Remorse came too late to mend the broken fences of protected love A mistake A misunderstanding Decisions made in anger with righteous indignation Unnecessary and unforgiving An explosion of emotions culminated in a solitary life with no one to accept an apology Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healingy All Rights Reserved Word Prompts Plate - RDP Nobody/No one - FOWC How - Stream of Consciousness
Hope for new beginnings remains a debt unpaid by Spring. Summer left it’s promissory note for new growth and abundance While Autumn failed to harvest the wishes and dreams left in barren, hardened earth And when winter came sadness fell as love lay dying Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Lisa from Tao Talk is hosting Monday Quadrille at D’Verse Poets and she bas promoted us with the word ’Season’ A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding the title.
The vanilla sky masked a sun desperate to break through Dreariness hung in the air like a wet blanket on hopes never to materialize Remains of life lived lay in derelict piles of rubble Dreams and memories scattered Never to be retrieved The city, a heart without a beat Ghosts of the brave wandering empty streets Searching for lost souls stolen from broken bodies Forever haunting Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Lynda Lee Lyberg is hosting D’Verse Poets tonight tonight and has prompted us with first lines of a novel. There were twelve to choose from. My pick was: The winter sun, poor ghost of itself, hung milky and wan behind layers of cloud above the huddled roofs of the town.’- Thomas Mann, Tonio Kroger, Penguin, 1955