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Best Poems Written by Ivan Beresford

Below are the all-time best Ivan Beresford poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

I slowly twist the whiskey lid and sniff at the smell of my addiction,
This feeling of depression somehow make’s me feel better,
While at the same time want to hang for my sorrows.
Self-pity reaches a whole new dimension as I lift the bottle to my lips,
I stop, And think would this be better with ice? I don’t care ether way,
But still I pour it into the pint glass anyway, Half way, Don’t stop yet.
The glass is full but still I pour another, was I expecting company? I don’t remember.

I take a deep breath and swallow down my pint, With the rest of my sanity,
My eyes start to droop and my head spins, Should a young boy feel like this? Who cares?
I slowly walk towards my window, I can just fly away from this life, Can’t I? let’s find out,
The wind blows across my face as I close my eyes but I don’t fly, Why? Oh it’s them again.
The voice’s stop me from flying away, They want to hold me back, To see me suffer with
them,
I feel there eye’s watching, Waiting, Their arms are long, No not long just thin almost
nothing
at all, They begin to talk, Whispering evil and sin into my soul.
I listen to what they have to say while trying to close my eye’s and hold back the tears,
They tell me to not be afraid, I am… They say they wish to show me something, I open my
eye’s,
Then I spot someone, barely just out of the corner of my eye, I turn and there she is,
No… God please no… Not here, WHY HERE??? Please anywhere but here,
Once again I watch her walk to the edge, A train passes but I don’t see it,
As I stand once again helpless I see that same smile on her face, She thinks she can fly… I
shout.. I scream.. But I can not move.

I try to close my eye’s but I can’t, I have to watch again… just like the last time,
The tears won’t stop coming now, I gaze once again at her loving face as she begins to fly,
I try to move, To run, To reach, To catch her but I can’t, I have no choice but to watch,
Then there it is, I hear the shattering sound as she hit’s the ground, I see the blood though
my tears.
I feel the shame and guilt all over again, Should a young girl feel the way she did?
The way I made her feel? Did she know how much I loved her? Needed her? Need her now?
I sit and shake in the corner of my small room, No one came, No one heard my cry’s,
I take another deep breath and swallow down my extra pint then I pick up the bottle,
I push and force down the last drops then gaze into the bottom, I cry.. No answers here
ether.

I take out another bottle, slowly twist the lid and sniff at my addiction.
I look for answers.

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

Behind Loving Eye's.

We dance as I sing my song, your head resting on my chest,
I look into your eyes as they fill with tears, tears of joy? Tears of pain? 
Are you happy or sad? Tears with meanings I’ll never know,
As each strand of salted water stream down your face,
You smile and for this, I love you.

We shout with hate and angered voices, our faces red with frustration,
Words of spite spat out with no hesitation, our fists clenched, and our eyes locked,
I see the fear in you face like a thump to the pit of my stomach,
I slump to my knees as my anger disappears like the mists of a fine rain,
You take my hand, as I stare you take me in your arms,
And for this, I love you. 

I touch your lips and feel your breath on my neck, 
I feel each and every curve with tender hands, 
Your soft skin against mine, I hold you tight and kiss you tenderly,
 As the moon shines through I see the reflection in your eyes,
 A glint of the woman you used to be and the woman you are,
We look at each other for eternity,
 And for this, I love you.

Your eyes are closed now, as we sit together hand in hand,
Our feelings tucked away inside our souls, our mouths shut, and we say no words,
We make no attempt to express the thoughts inside our minds,
The TV flickers against a backdrop of darkness in a silent room,
The rain thumps against the window in the cold hollow night,
I hear your lips open as you breathe, I feel your heart pound,
You tilt your head towards mine and whisper you love me
Like a voice shattering a thousand silences,
And for this, I love you to.

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

Strawberry Erotica

Sweet, Sensational, I glide my fingers down her skin, 
Barely but softly touching her sweet soaked flesh,
As I feel beneath I gently kiss the firm of her body,
I look at my loved one and think of the pleasures she could endure.
I decide to test the limits of her sensuality but before I do, I think a little fun,
I spread the mint Ice-cream all over her, but before I slowly lick it off,
I watch as the cold feeling make’s her skin harden, I start there.

My tongue runs in smooth circular motions around the cold of her skin,
I slowly kiss and then suck at the half melted cream that is now running,
Down to her forbidden parts, Forbidden to all but me, I take advantage.
My lips now wet from her desire for me to taste her, I dwell on this moment,
Could this be any better? Or course it can, I haven’t finished yet.
I take her to the kitchen an sit her on the side, I look at her and smile,
As I open the fridge and pop the Champaign, I feel the excitement from her body.

I drape her in cold Champaign and rub the sweet liquid into her skin,
I can no longer contain my urges, 
I place her to my lips and with untamed anticipation I bite into her,
Her juices gush into my mouth as a feeling of admiration rushes through me.
Then I take mercy on her as I finish her off, I walk back into my living room,
I sit down and look at my loved one, I offer the last sweet strawberry to her.

As she puts it to her mouth… she turns to me and smiles…
Oh yes.. Here we go again…

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

Love, Faith Or Acceptance.

What is Love?
In MY opinion, Love is….. Just this……

Her eye’s when I read of them crying, 
The thought and the taste of her tears on the tip of my tongue,
The ability to help her with my words,
To stop the pain she feel’s when I touch her heart in the only way I know how.
The sadness in her eyes that glisten with a sweet look that can do no wrong,
When through my heart she hears what I try to say, 
Even when I’m to scared to speak the words.
Love to me is not about how someone can make you feel,
But for me to have faith and accept that no matter how sad I am,
Or how many tears I cry, I can still in my deepest, darkest time’s,
I……. can still make her smile.


What is Faith? 
In MY opinion, Faith is….. Just this……

The ability to see and realise that my God is not bound by words in a book,
But only by how far my belief can stretch,
That I do not have to.. or feel the need to.. believe in a same single God, For God to be real,
That in fact, God is not what I am told HE is, But what I believe SHE is.
My God will not punish me for the mistakes and sins of my life, For she is no judge,
She does not require me to live by her laws and rules, For she is no tyrant,
No matter how I chose to live my life, She will take my soul and care for who I am.
Faith to me is not about how my God says and demands I should live,
But for me to accept that no matter how bad my choices in life may be,
Or how people may view or judge me, She will in my deepest, Darkest times,
She……. Will still love me.


What is Acceptance?
In MY opinion, Acceptance is….. Just this……

I am Evil, I am Good,
I am my Demons, I am my Saints.
I am my Hopes, I am my Dreams,
I am my Greed, I am my Desires.
I am my Gives, I am my Takes,
I am my Family, I am my Friends.
I am my Life, I am my Death,
Acceptance to me is not about what other people tell me or think I should be,
But for me to have absolute faith in who I am and what I do,
That people love me for who and what I am and accept what I believe to be right,
Even in my deepest, darkest times……. 

Love, Faith Or Acceptance…….
Separate they are opinions….
But In your Deepest, Darkest times….
Do you not think….
For a single moment… that they just might be……     
EXACTLY. THE. SAME. THING……?

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

A Bitter Man.

I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by anger and hate with a heart full of passion 
and love  trying to claw it’s way to the surface through a chest of ice.

I have control over my life and all within, my problems are my own and my fists do my 
talking but if you were to take that control away, you would see my tears, tears of fear that 
hide in the shadows of my soul, a sign of cowardice, a sign of weakness, a sign of defeat.

I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by the memory of my past with a child 
battered and 
bruised silently crying for the help he knows he’ll never get.

I have a partner who loves and respect me, I have children who look to me as a role model 
but if you were to take this family away you would see a frightened little boy who is afraid to 
be alone, scared of the dark and the monsters that lurk within, unable to cope with the 
pressures of life who’s only feeling of safety comes with a blanket pulled over his head.

I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by the aspirer to be unlike those who took an 
innocent boy and twisted, tore, broke and destroyed his soul for fun with a body full of pain 
and anger.

I built the fragments piece by piece from a shattered remnant, broken still but able to feel, 
although not complete I pass for human but if you were to take this soul from me and watch 
as the pieces fell one by one to the cold damp floor, you would not want to look back up, for 
no longer would I be on the edge of sanity but flying over the line like a vulture stalking it’s 
prey, were there once stood a man would now stand a monster.

I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by my own selfishness and ignorance of all 
things I don’t understand with a desire to learn everything and a young man who’s thirst for 
knowledge is unquenchable.

I have with me a answer to everything, I twist and manipulate the question until my answer 
fits like the smallest of hands in a newly knitted glove and is accepted without second 
thought but if you were to take that answer away from me you would see a boy lost and 
confused knowing nothing outside of his own range of mind, scared to venture into the open 
world out of fear it may consume him.

I now stand before you a bitter man

       With an aspiration to be greater than what I am.

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

Take My Soul, I Give It To You

I could give you my heart but I’m not sure I own one anymore,
For the sorrow and pain hurts so much, 
I feel although I’ve abused it’s kindness, I cast it out into the dark,
It never came back.

I could give you my body but what good would that be?
For although I’m still within my youth, my body is broken,
My ache’s and pains would only be a burden on your life,
And to carry my weight a burden upon your own beauty.

I could give you my looks but no use they would be,
I care not for appearance nether out nor in ,
For both of mine are ugly and would dim the light you shine,
A force upon you I would not wish upon the evilest of mankind.

I could give you my humour but it is now dry and dead,
A smile once crossed this face and laughter from this mouth,
Now only bitter spite at the world and hate for all within,
Words of corruption  and sin, only the crackle of my frown.

I could give you my eye’s  but no longer do they see past myself,
They see the evils of both man and woman alike, the things they say,
A gaze of stone cold cruelty that cuts deep into the bone,
A gaze I have never witnessed from the softness of your face.

I could give you my mind but the insanity would drive you to harm,
For no longer do thoughts of  love and happy endings roam within,
A sick twisted mind trapped in a sick twisted world trying to escape life,
Evolution of the mind subjected  to a world that destroys the purest of men.

I could give you my life but I don’t even want it myself,   
A waste of space on the rust of humanity no longer with a purpose,
A tormented wretch of useless flesh 
On bones that not even a starving dog would chew.

So to you my last hope of salvation I give my soul, I beg of you please,
Guard it with your life, love it as your first born, guide it to maturity,
Teach it’s heart to believe, heal it’s bodies wounds, help it’s look to shine,
Show it’s mouth how to laugh and it’s eyes new beauty to see, ease it’s mind,
And give fresh purpose to it’s life and together with your help I will try my best…
To become the man you always say I AM.

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

A Soulless Life.

A lifeless corps dragging his feet through the dirt, 
the wet sludge sloshing through his toe’s,
He lifts his head and looks to the people running past in a blur,
As the sweat drips from his forehead, 
blood rolls down from his eyes,
If you look carefully you can see his life reflected in the crimson shine.

He wonders where he once belonged but only for a brief moment,
Then as he started he remembers why. 
No one knows his face here, he is safe,
The people clear from his path, they are afraid but know not why, 
they struggle to see him, no matter how hard they strain there eyes.

A shifter from existence before time, 
exiled to a backwater planet with so little hope,
His brain hurts from his fall, he fell a long way,
Confused he hopes that he can plead with his masters, 
knowing they show no mercy.

Sitting up on their thrones of diamond, his masters contemplate,
They fear his power, were he ever to remember, they could lose everything,
Knowing that death is there only option they summon their assassin,
With a point of their fingers the order is given,
With little hope in their souls.

As he sits alones in a corner he cries, he is alone in life, but not for long,
She is beautiful beyond words,
he smiles and watches as she walks towards him,
As they embrace one another their lips meet, 
her warm breath on his mouth, what is this feeling he feels for the fist time,
He lays her down and runs his fingers over her body,
Breathing heavily and closing her eyes, she embraces the pleasure,
For she has never known love.

As the morning sun breaks she pears to her side only to find him gone,
She lays her hand on her stomach and cries.
His feet shuffle towards the lake as he gazes into the glistening  water
“ SWOOSH” The assassin was swift, not even looking back before he was gone,
As a dismembered head rolled to a stop, he looks at his reflection in the water,
Then as he gazes into the crimson shine of his tears, they remember.
   
 God help us all.

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

Comfort of the Rain

I tilt my hat and look up to the clouds, The forecast said sun all day, 
The forecast was wrong, No change there.

I gaze up at the darkening clouds and smile, I love the rain, it’s my kind of weather,
My kind of mood. I walk on to my destination , the winds now blowing harder,
I don’t rush, I listen on as people begin to moan and hurry and I laugh,
How can you enjoy the sweet winds on your face if you don’t stop to appreciate it?

I can feel it now, a kind of misty rain, the kind that you don’t usually notice,
I take off my hat and let the breeze blow the soft water over my face, 
The cool refreshing feeling takes me back into my mind when as a child
I would sit out as the rain thundered down and think how much alike the rain I was.

It starts to spit as I stop to rest, A nearby bench does the job fine as I lay down 
And face the sky and close my eyes, I breath deeply as the drops of rain hit my
Forehead and slither down my cheek with only the odd one slipping across my lips,
I lick them dry and taste the sweet salty water on my tongue, my kind of taste.

Its not long before I’m awaken by the smooth sound of heavy rain, my clothes 
Almost soaking  wet, I rise and continue to walk while taking in the cool air and
Soft smell of the wet ground beneath my feet, although some times I feel that maybe
I am beneath the ground, people pass me at a pace to quick for me to notice but not to quick 
to see the looks they give when they see me.

As the heavens open and the rain begins to thunder down, I remove my shirt and stand
In the stillness on life when nature takes its anger out on the world and as the hail stings
And thumps against my bare chest I ravel in the pain as no one can see the tears
That run through my mind and down my face.

Then as my body begins to shrivel and my soaking skin embraces the bitter cold
I look to the sky’s and smile.

I tuck my shirt into my trouser waist and put my hat back on, then in silence
I continue my journey,
Through life.

Details | Ivan Beresford Poem

Woman of Art.

The steam slowly raises from inside my mug, wrapping itself around my pencil, eventually
evaporating into the musty atmosphere.
As I open my sketchbook I imagine all the possibilities of a world inside my head, but today
I’ll stick to what I do best.
I place pencil to paper and within seconds her eyes blaze like wildfire, a look of pure
mystery and a feeling of seductiveness.
Her nose is sly and round with a slight creek to the left in a cute and attractive way, I pick up
my cup and take a sip before moving on.

I sketch a swiftness of lines as a base to what will later become a sea of hair, my hand slides
down to her neck, she is beautiful.
I rub my eyes, it’s late now and my candle is starting to burn out, her shoulders are broad,
not to wide but slightly long.
I run the tip of my lead around her soft breast, they sag slightly at the bottom but I don’t
care, as I draw in her hips.
You could place your hands on hips like this and hold them for a lifetime, I move my pencil
up to her waist, I prefer the fuller figure.

I realise my tea has turned stone cold as I take her soft hand into mine, we dance around
the page between the flowers and tree’s.
I look into her eye’s of blazing fire and draw in the final outline of her hair, I think it would
look good light blue with green streaks.
I draw in her thighs as my pencil runs down her long smooth legs…. No, I take my eraser
and rub out her legs as I change my mind.
Instead I think I’ll have her legs disappear into a mist, her dress of gold and black sparkling
in the cold midnight air.

I draw in the tears as she cry’s, for no more life has she ever known, we walk through night,
as I hold her hand she rests her head upon my shoulder.
We take a seat on a newly sketched bench next to a fountain over flowing with water of the
darkest blue, and she sighs.
I get from out of my chair and fill the kettle, as the water boils I contemplate her fate, I pour
my drink and sit down at my desk, I get to work.
Her arms out spread and a smile on her newly formed gentle lips, I draw a sparkle into her
tears, then as I place the finishing touches I rip out the page.

The frame is cheap but not tacky, I placed her on the wall above my desk,
Where next to a crystal fountain of water blue and dark,
She can dance forever.

Best Poems Written by Ivan Beresford

Who Am I?

Bottom of the Bottle

Behind Loving Eye's.

Strawberry Erotica

Love, Faith Or Acceptance.

A Bitter Man.

Take My Soul, I Give It To You

A Soulless Life.

Comfort of the Rain

Woman of Art.