Quotes about bruised, page 10
Love's Convicts
A new love arises on a new morning’s shore
Where the moon left behind a feeling so sore
The slightest caress can open all the gates
Of dreadful events dug up out of place
No matter how hard this new love may try
Each true kiss must be hiding a lie
One heart bruised another through timeless conflicts
And put all on probation as lover’s convicts
poem by P.R. Prosper
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Is She Not Silly?
you are making my life
so miserable
she tells him
why? why? why?
she asks three times
when i only want to make
you happy
to please you
to remove from you
that plaster of pain
from that bruised part
of your body?
she tells him of
her intentions
there is no answer
he is one hour from death
bleeding
yet she is still there
asking for an
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dirty Time
Depth of a bruised sea
rising from the surface
overwhelms the dumb shore
shining
for impossible tomorrow
golden sand, the locked door.
History repeats amnesia
for a depressed meniscus
shifts the nameplate.
Here was laid the image of
priestlees god of dusty face
small dreams.
The book remains incomplete
who wrote the contents
for blank pages?
poem by Satish Verma
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Buddha Steps # 7
take all of your clothes off!
stand in front of a long mirror.
there you are!
no costumes, no makeup, no lies.
just you.
greying, wrinkled, toes and fingers
bent;
shadows under your eyes,
bruised, and worn.
there you are!
in all the beauty
of years and scars.
breathing, aching, just being.
lifetimes and stories written
in human flesh, and hope.
beauty!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Time Of Need
last prayer tendered,
long veil pulled back;
i take you, without asking,
without caring, where
we've been, or whose dust
i brush from your lips.
my own hands are bruised,
and bloodied... my own demons
locked in their cage...
i am only a man,
you, a woman...
and this love, the only war
worth fighting in a world
of darkness, in this
time of need!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Booties Bruised
Empty dipped.
And freed...
Are the recovered pleaders!
Losing balancing acts and ripped,
From the 'Big Top'...
Of their beloved circus.
And the screaming is heard,
From miles around.
With a final bump...
That thumps their rumps!
Booties bruised are the bummed out ones!
But nothing stops them,
From mending their lumps.
And jumping over their humps!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wounded And Bruised
As I look back upon my path,
With those tests and mistakes...
I managed to pass with a lot of heartache.
I often ask myself,
If it would have been easier...
Beginning those tasks to prove to others,
What it was I could do.
Instead of choosing myself to compete against.
Since I can be unrelenting when I critique.
With a beating to leave me wounded and bruised.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ricochet
I stood all the doorways
Shipwrecked by the night
Stardust named my bits
And the myths did not know
Whether it was the bullets or the heart
No staircase no upper floor
I sun burst bruised each step
Said all the poems written long ago
Were they just whispers words fallen apart
Air ate mist
Mist ate my breath
Nowhere could I go
Bounced back by darts
Ricochet
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I Gave My Heart To A Woman
I gave my heart to a woman –
I gave it her, branch and root.
She bruised, she wrung, she tortured,
She cast it under foot.
Under her feet she cast it,
She trampled it where it fell,
She broke it all to pieces,
And each was a clot of hell.
There in the rain and the sunshine
They lay and smouldered long;
And each, when again she viewed them,
Had turned to a living song.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Lips
lips...
written in darkness,
mouthing words
in unspoken language.
searching,
groping for reason...
trembling before
the soft underside
of the shell.
lips...
bruised,
and wanting,
saying much
with silent moves.
lips...
that pray,
and drench loving,
with the softest
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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