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Best Richard Eichmiller Poems

Below are the all-time best Richard Eichmiller poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Mysterious Crush

Mystery person, you haunt my mind
Which is torture at times,
Mystery person, you're hard to find
But that’s fine, your voice is beautiful like golden chimes.
You can pretend I'm just a creep.
Your beauty is beyond compare
Those lovely eyes say a thousand words
Truth is I think of you before I sleep.
Your beautiful locks of brown hair
They're so beautiful it's absurd

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This Is Not What I Expected

This Isn’t What I Expected

Lusty-eyed dreams, 
Broken nightmares, 

This is what it has risen from the cream, 
This is not what I’d wished to fare, 

Yet, I’m the bad one, 
The one who no one loved, 

But, that’s not why I’m done, 
The one who no one loved, 

Literally, I’m few—and far between, 
Figuratively, I’m he who haunt the tragic scene, 

For, I am a teenage failure awaiting being seen, 
As, I sit and read, and read, and read this screen, 

The cursor dancing in rhythm, 
At such steady pace, 

Marching to the beat of its own rhythm, 
Oh, Quite, Unlike, my own race, 

Scurrying, Scarcely, Scurried,
Flee, Fled, Fleeting, 

This is what I’ve amounted to—hurried, 
Nothing more than a wasted—mass.

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Ode of Lily Black

To lil 'ol Lily, 
Who lived on Wolfbane Lane, 
Your dresses quite frilly, and you quite silly, 
You make the town wonder if you're sane, 
Dear, Lily Black,
He sealed your fate, 
While the town mourned, 
if only, Dear Lily, we could turn time back,
Your fate was sealed by a lover scorned.

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The Poem That Answers Itself

Why should I care,
     About Academics?
     Saying the same thing twice?
There be no reason, 
     To try in school,
          When failure is nothing less than host, 
     To try with a hobby, 
          When no one reads your
Why should I care
     About love?
     About aspirations?
     About, poetry?
No one listens, 
     Nor cares.
     Leave you behind
     Are self-absorbed
          and you, nothing less than giving.

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My woes

I'm a tad dried up
I haven't written a poem in a while,
Waiter, pour some coffee in my cup,
So where was I, Trying to convince you about you're beautiful smile,
No, I was talking about my woes, 
As you can see, I'm a terrible poet, 
I couldn't rhyme to save my life, 
But, Hey, it pays the bills, even helps me deal with my foes, 
You try to tell me I'm a good poet, sadly I don't show-it
Someday, maybe, I'll read my poems to my wife.

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Traits of a Mother

M. Mature
O. Obsessive
T. Truthful
H. Helpful
E. Earnest
R. Respectful
S. Self sufficient 

L. Loveable 
O. Outstanding
V. Virtuous 
E. Efficient

I. Irreplaceable 
S. Spontaneous

N. Nurturing
E. Economical
V. Virtuoso
E. Eager 
R. Reliable 

E. Entertaining 
N. Nice
D. Dedicated
I.  Industrious 
N. Not appreciated enough
G. Good Nature

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A Walk into the Thicket

I walk into such thicket for such answers
	Life purpose
		For hope of learning nature’s charms
	To find life purpose
		For those days I lay dying
			I hope to not discover—not living
I not want this life to live
	Not to give up.
		Unless it neededly be so
I wanted to remove from life:
	That which that that fight bad
	[And]Cowardly chaos
I sought to rim wide and tightly the tree [of life]
	To drive life into no certain escape
		To deprive, of all luxuries, it.
If it prove a fighter . . . 
	Then I’d so speak of this
		In published prose
	Be it gentle—or sweet
		As lover may so be
	Of such I’d ably speak truly
I see as it lie—in men’s lives
	For there to be an unknown
		Whether it be:
I walk into such thicket for such answers.

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Pet Peeve, No, 1

This is for all the people out  there,
That can't use proper grammar, 
You make me want to tear out my hair, 
Or hit you with a hammer, 

Yes, my grammar is not the best, 
But please try to improve, 
And I'll try, not to slam my hand into your chest, 
If I need to I'll move, 

Grammar rules, 
Such as, A or An, 
Grammar is an important tool, 
And should be used by every man and woman, 

Don't ignore your mistakes, 
You were taught better, 
For goodness sake, 
You need to know these things to write a proper letter!

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Those Intellectuals

It would be nice . . .
	If these ‘intellectuals’ would . . . 
		Do as they ought
	They sit as if enjoying be
		Nary need be
			Nary present a’tall
Yeah, all of those I’d not be considered amonst
	Mere as “I’m not good enough for your cult”
		Of overly determined.
			Burnt out.
				Worn out.
					Sparsely conscious.
I did once try.
	But I failed in your eyes . . . 
		And I apparently cared what it was,
			Or, did I . . . 
Since, I know not the answer.
	Supposedly you do.
		So you tell me.
			Such, is societal.
You know all, 
	Nary know anyone otherwise
		But only, if only you allow . . . 

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What is love

Love is the bond  not shared by  few,
Love is from those who hold you tight,
Love is the reason I remain true to you,
Love is from people that make you feel alright.