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Best Poems Written by Rhia Madison Thomer

Below are the all-time best Rhia Madison Thomer poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Sleeping With Sirens

You measure love in the
leagues across the sea,
and if it was more than twenty
nothing’d bring you back to me.
I could not bring myself to
that same principle of love
could it be measured in distance?
Can you measure the sky above?
For each night I sent my heart
across the stars to you
an immeasurable distance 
perhaps, but it is true.
I couldn’t deny your heart beat
beating next to mine,
but it came as a surprise
when you looked at me to decline.
The sirens were calling
they were singing you a song
you measured love in the distance
the sirens were closer all along.

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Putting On Makeup

I woke up this morning
and found my face was not my own
that person in the mirror
wasn't the girl I'd come to know.
I wore a stranger’s face
and had to turn my eyes away
need to put on that makeup now
so no one else would know today.
I picked up the lipstick,
paint on a perfect smile
pull on mascara and eye liner
hide the tear tracks now, they've been a while.
Powder the face, hide the pale color
and those dark circles under her eyes
eye shadow up above to
where the bruises might show through.
Make sure the smile painted
hides the blood upon the lips
where you kept on accepting
the lies and their biting kiss.
Face her again
she smiles in her knowing
all those secrets you may hide
she is gladly showing.

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Familiar Taste of Betrayal

I’ve tasted betrayal before just like I have tasted lies
but each time it’s so bitter, the taste always a surprise.

I cannot expel this sickness you left to rot in my soul
the brittleness of your lies that made you lose control.

So I am left no resolution and more unanswered questions,
you told me it would be an hour when I’d only had seconds.

You came in as an infection and you’re leaving a disease
once proud I stood and yet you brought me to my knees

your taking me down and you’re dragging me low.
Why take my hand if you only plan to just let go?

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The Sickness

You left your sickness rotting on my tongue
But it seems your betrayal has only begun

Infected, my throat lets no word pass their lips
Your sickness has become a total eclipse

Brittle, my tongue slowly begins to decay
Broken, my feet still dance your ballet

Made low by the sickness within your soul
You leave me with no virtues to extol

Condemned like a house my roof to cave
A grain of sand on shore eroded by the wave

Fractured, my fingers still beg me to speak
Blinded, my eyes hide and forget to seek.

Silence like a cancer it cankers my voice
And as it grows I am left with no choice.

You left your sickness to rot on my tongue
Terminal, the cancer for one so young.

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Song To the Moon-Repost

The moon hung red in the sky,
too heavy for the sky to uphold
she leaned against the rooftops;
the stars glittered in fear about her.
I walked beneath her heavy laden form
and my lips formed words, whispering,
a silent prayer. In my hand I held a book,
from it I sang to the moon;
like the coyote in the night, I sang.
Words of the ancients escaped my tongue
in songs of healing, songs of hope.
Was I selfish to not want the moon to depart yet?
For it was her celestial body
that had first given me hope all those nights ago.
I spilled words from my mouth in the form of song.
They sky was pregnant with her form.
Red and old she watched me, eyes solemn.
I sang through the night
giving her the hope she once gave to me
and slowly her form retreated
back into the heavens.
The moon hung yellow in the sky,
too heavy to be crowded by clouds
she leaned over stars
who glittered quietly with her in the night.

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The Bird Sings

If I were a bird, would you clip my wings
then cage me away with pretty things?
And, if my wings were to be clipped
why not just burry me within a crypt,
For a cage is too small for a master of sky,
I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly.
For to have wings that cannot soar,
then why not nail me to the floor?
Tonight I shall make my final swan song
knowing I have been locked away so long.
For a cage is too small for a master of sky,
I was meant so kiss the sun, soar, and fly.
So still the caged bird, she sings
without her sky, without wings.
Sometimes laments, sometimes sighs,
sometimes she whistles her own reprise.
For a cage is too small for a master of sky
I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly.
So then curious is it, the caged thing
who finds she has the heart to sing?
Because it would seem a great strain
to be caged seems twisted and profane,
for a cage is too small for a master of sky,
I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly.
When asked, why do you sing, bird?
The answer is a simple word,
hope, for escape from behind these bars
that keep me caged from the stars.
For a cage is too small for a master of sky,
I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly.
Birds should have no master, no kings
and love cannot be clipping wings.
But now it seems I must live confined,
in this hand crafted cage of your design,
but a cage is too small for a master of sky
I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly.
So must I wait for these wings to heal
and relearn how the wind may feel.
If I must be caged, still my heart sings
of the day I can again use my wings.

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Five Letters

These are the five letters you left me with:

So you are leaving, walking away,
Old wounds grate against silence.
Realizing a moment too late, what’re you doing,
Reading through all those beautiful lies,
You never meant what you said.

And, I read them, over and over again
but five small letters never seemed so big.

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Destruction and Reconstruction

Am I forced to watch you leave again?
My hand is left holding empty air
hadn’t I just held you as we walked?
And now, there is need for repair.
For there is a stitch in my heartbeat,
it snags on something in my chest
another broken piece of myself
left trapped inside my breast.
You took the photo; I got the empty frame,
left me to sift through the debris
couldn’t you try to say more carefully
that you no longer needed me?
The glass that’s on the floor
is the aftermath of our destruction?
It mirrors the repairs to be had on the inside
as the heart attempts reconstruction.

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With Broken Bones

Your making me walk on broken bones,
I’m breathing through punctured lungs
put me to the tight rope time to cross,
off you go, this is the grunge,
of my life, will it pay off?
Take out rent on my heart
and hide yourself up in the rafters
start the decay then depart.
I can taste bitterness on my tongue 
feel it rot within my teeth
you’re making me kiss with bloody lips,
the ghosts are waiting just beneath.
Your making me walk on broken bones,
I’m living like a ghost dies,
Put me up to the pulpit,
I will recite the preacher’s lies.

Details | Rhia Madison Thomer Poem

As We Lay You Down To Dreams

Lay your head down,
child close your eyes
enter dreams
wherever they may lye;
of someplace better 
than where you lay
inside your dreams,
for you we pray.
We bow our heads
and from bleeding lips
from oft repeat
we say this:
"Lay down your head
close your eyes without fear.
Child no one can hurt you,
no not here."
So sleep child
and dream of a better day
someplace better than here,
left washed in gray.