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Best Poems Written by Viola .X

Below are the all-time best Viola .X poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Lost, the Late

Grown up, messed up Peter Pan
Meet wide-eyed Alice of Wonderland
That has become you Neverland
Tell her when to drop

The city is your jungle now
You rule the streets from underground
'Til was the girl of sunshine found
Flowers grow in her footsteps

She is Life as you remember
Before all months became December
Will Spring return now she is member
To your shadowband of The Lost?

You, who once taught souls to fly
Fearless of the fall, you'd climb as high
As to paint your fingers blue with the sky
Now: Afraid of lifting both feet off the ground

Alice is vunerable to this Land's seduction
But she won't survive it's love of destruction
Unless she learns to fly above the corruption
Teach the girl; save our hope

Screw what courage you keep to the sticking place
With time winding down it is now you face
The monsters you grew; her blood you will taste
Forever after is you are late

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The Ladybug

Eight dark spots
And a faded orange shell
Against cream fabric
Dead 
On my pillow

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Frozen Ghost

Parchment-paper trees 
Rise from a backbone of fallen snow 
I walk through the skeleton of the world

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Looking Up From the Menu

A silent parade of spice and steam above me
Glasses of water glimmer like crystals in a cave
Low yellow light melts over me 
“May I take your order?”

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France

In the year gone by, I've been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
I've walked over sands leading to the Mont Saint-Michel
I've even gazed into the eyes of the Mona Lisa, and realized
This is not what living in France is about.

Listen:

Life in France is driving through the green tides of the countryside
And eating crêpes beside a dark-grey storm of a sea

It is asking friends over for just the appetizer
And discerning the importance of petits cafés

It is summer nights and live music calling from café doors
And wandering about a town gone dead come Wednesday

On Thursday, it is eating galettes at the morning market; 
It is discovering always new things of an old town

It is passing a hand over a stone wall and thinking of
The number of centuries your fingers have just felt

Our river la Rance is more beautiful than the Mona Lisa
I prefer the castle on the corner to Mont Saint-Michel
And our little church inspires me more than the Eiffel Tower
Because this is what living in France is about.

Listen:

It is knowing it's everyday beauty
the slightest details that are what makes it great

Mostly, it is the sound made by sneaker soles on cobblestones
And the scent of fresh bread on the air

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We Never Leave

Lying down beneath a tree, I listen
The wind draws whispers from rustling leaves
Stories stir in the ravines of the bark
They make me smile mostly, but sometimes I cry

The wind draws whispers from rustling leaves
They are left there by birds and moss and rain in roots
They make me smile mostly, but I cry
When I hear of worms wriggling to sidewalk suicide

Left there by birds and moss and rain in roots
Is the promise of life and an energy that connects us
When I hear of worms wriggling to sidewalk suicide
I see that life, all life, is wondrous and strange

The promise of life and an energy that connects us
Makes me look at my arms, imagine them covered in bark
I see that life is wondrous and strange
That I am part if it all, the bald eagles and the mud


I look at my arms, imagine them covered in bark
My feet become roots and my fingers become leaves
I am part of it all, the bald eagles and the mud
They were here long before me, yet they speak in my voice

My feet become roots and my fingers become leaves
Stories stir in the ravines of my bark
They were there long before me, yet they’re told in my voice
Now you lie beneath me, so listen

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Mornings

I'm awake before the baker's rise
Heavy eyes at half-mast, I stumble downstairs 
To the coffee machine; the dark liquid blooms
Outward with heat in my stomach

One more cup and I'm ready

Stepping out onto sleeping streets
Morning chill converts my breath to vapour
It hangs around my head, thinly white and streaming
A silver creek flowing upwards

There's a mist over the town this morning
Shops and streets in shades of gray
Now color gains new contrast and
What worlds revealed are ethereal

Now the skyline blushes pink
My breath invisible, my goosebumps 
relaxed
I grow warm beneath my sweater

Back on the path
That will carry me home
Streetlamps flicker and dim around me
They will die welcoming the day

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Find

There's not a story in your soul that you wish to spill?
Not an idea in your hand that you want to see spread?

You fancy yourself a Master of Words but they evade you
Like bruised hounds fleeing a man with a stick

Do not fear the blank page nor the words that sound like echoes
Write the poetry already written on your insides

What phrases traverse the length of your intestines?
What concepts lie printed on the pink of your brain

What words cling to your heartstrings and swing
With the beat of the blood carried away by your arteries?

Find the letters that form stitches that hold you together:
The mind to the body to the soul - Find:

That it is poetry that extracts the essence of sentiment 
And makes audible the voices in your head - Find:

That it is to poetry you will turn when you can't think of what to say
To poetry you will turn when your voice is taken away

It will release you, tease you, chase you, face you
Take you by the hand, turn you - Make you face yourself

And there, you will find you cannot help but write poetry 
For poetry is you

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What I Hope For You

I hope you face never loses its openness
I hope your heart never leaves your sleeve
I hope your eyes never lose their wonder
I hope your fingers never cease to weave

The strings that hold us all together
The strangers, the family, the friends
I hope you’ll know which bonds to cut and which to make stronger
So you won’t be alone against the blows Life sends

I hope you continue to greet everyone with a smile
Even when all they’ll offer back is a frown
And on the day you find you have risen to the top
I hope you’ll be kind to the jerks that put you down

I hope everything you want, you must work for
And I hope you appreciate what you have, too
I hope you never lose sight of what is important
And always come back to the ones that love you

And I hope you will walk beside Our Lord
And listen to what He has to say
I hope you understand He has a plan for you
Lesson and mission for you, each day


Most of all, I hope you realize that:
You are all you need to become all you want to be
And finally, as both a sister and a friend
I will always be there when you need me to be

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The Beast's Hope

The Beast regards the Rose, recalls how once she was fair
Now she dies
Slowly, the death of one desperate for air
And so hungry
For love, but all to breath is despair

He watches hope wilt at her feet

She sheds blood-red petals as a mourner sheds tears
She cries
For empty months that had become heartless years
She feels
The curse drawing close; this fate she fears

Soon, in her glass tomb, hope shall die