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Best Poems Written by Ant Mac

Below are the all-time best Ant Mac poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ant Mac Poem

The Crow

The Crow

Calling, falling cast a shadow,
Dark the pitted claw does dig, 
Diving deep inside the shallow, 
Rising above what others did.

Stark the teller of the story,
The bitter end will show no grace,
The battlefield still washed with glory,
Who won the fight to take their place?

What looms our sight in comprehension?
The tension holds us fast and tight,
Sit better pressed in cold contention,
And reappear in summer’s flight.

Arrest the moment for its treasure, 
The pressure closed to take a bite,
A universal mould to measure, 
Weary from the dead of night.

Revered for ebony jet black feathers,
The weather bathed its inky gloss,
Rescue the clasp that holds the letter,
Or let it seek out those who lost.

Float higher still in sweet surrender, 
A warning to those who hear, or think or feel,
The flesh is sharp the beak is tender,
Gently it’s pressed impose it will.

Details | Ant Mac Poem

Kensington

Kensington 

Children of frustration
when dreams rose from the heap
the darkest of locations
tell white lies as they speak

open to persuasion
when abilities are weak
waves of degradation 
disturbs all those asleep

awake the dispensation 
to turn the other cheek
the house that they were raised in
and company they keep

a blur of segregation
when summers burn with heat
sit back for meditation
and sow all that is reaped

peer deep into what’s stationed 
the lost or stolen sheep
a core that rocks a nation 
only on occasion weeps

passed down from generations
too scared to take a peak
the truth is out there somewhere 
you can find it in the street.

Details | Ant Mac Poem

I am

I am         

I am man
I am nature
I am of life and of death,

I am lesser
I am greater
I am of right and of left,

I am mechanical
I am manual 
I am technically a wound up mouse,

I am loud
When I am silent
I am inadvertently at fault with doubt,

I the ego, me the person 
I the genius, me the fool
I am lost when I am chosen
Found
I am
A part from you.

Details | Ant Mac Poem

The Pugilist

The Pugilist 

The push for purse
or punishment
to take the heavy iron

what brands the foot
or binds the hand?
another step in time

agreed the lengths
to self-defence
endure the cunning mind

when thoughts repressed
the body stretched
and pain sets out to find

behind the point
that pokes at fun
and parries all away

a boxer’s punch
was worth the punt
to fight another day

within the hand
where justice fits
the scale was tipped to weigh

amidst the sand
the knuckles land
and dare they join to pray?

skipped upon condition
reasoned beyond all doubt
the crowd was here to listen
with every second count.

Details | Ant Mac Poem

The Moth

What is mist in my demeanour,
makes me fray when I am touched,
the thread is just a little leaner,
when the rug is pulled too much.

Adjust the light, 
reduce the glare,
the eyes will compensate the glow
with just the right influx of air,
the breath will gently ease its flow.

Call from the candle,
the patterned handle,
generates the heat of light, 
and when it’s bare without a sandal
the iron brands you in the night.

Aware of the feast,
release the craving, 
the best will save it in a jar,
wearers might warn us by waving,
when our engraving made its mark.

A stark reality to territory,
we covert the dark to rest,
the part that sparks our own clarity,
and every fight is but a test.

Caressed the stretched out wing and body,
the rack and ruin of a maiden flight, 
the pressed at best now torn and shoddy,
unless the pest drifts to new heights. 

Despite the knit of what was woven,
the proven cloth still dares to shred, 
the holes return to join the stolen,
fitting to nourish on what was said.

Details | Ant Mac Poem

The Debtor

To all who are among us
I bid you all farewell
as the lid press down the eye
another story tell.

Drift me to a meadow
at peace the ever last
where all the times of sorrow
rest only in the past.
                   
Judge me by mistake,
for who does wear the crown?
Win or lose the game
the dice have rolled me down.
          
As the end is final
and all begins anew.
Whether inch or mile,
love travels back to you.
                   
Adieu to those who loved me. 
Why must this slip bereave?   
This part of what was lent me,
is all I have to leave.