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Best Poems Written by Ingvar Thorisdottir

Below are the all-time best Ingvar Thorisdottir poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

My Monster

among you and I and among us all
remains a feeling of shallow intoxication
that seems to play on and on and on in our respective heads
as everyone important to us has gone on to some beautiful destiny
I sit here amongst the caucasion sleeves of paper on the floor of my chamber
the numbness of the so called "art" on the radio
mommy, I have done it

as the winter approaches, we batten down ourselves for the impending darkness
snow ensconces the dull tundra of all the acres
understandably blundered by the wings of burden and shame
I toil with the literature of my past and the science of my future
I thought I found you at least a dozen times, but you weren't you
daddy, throw another log on the fire

is there mercy in this chaos and this uncertainty? 
will I ever retain escape velocity and leave this earth?
I must leave this place and find sanctity elsewhere
no doctor revive me, no professional conversationalists, please.
mommy, daddy, take me home. 

the shoreline thunders, with the red clay -- imitating dover
I stare down at the mercurial wash of the crushing tides
special sequins rain down into the fundy sea below
I shall wake the wight inside of me
and destroy the pain inside of thee. 

mommy, daddy -- rape the teeth from within my head
to paint a better picture of the son you thought you knew
brother, I miss you and your insolent charm. 

but little monster, I think I will stay for you.

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

Lambeau Haiku

crisp and savage frozen tundra 
running after a deep play action pass
the pilgrimage will be made

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Do Not Mourn the Stars

time is of no consequence
life will carry out its eternal sentence

blow by blow we return vertical
nothing remains but the eternal

do not mourn the stars, as they move us
the curse of time is all but a fuss

when stars die, they drown the light
no control, no matter how much man made might

no god, no saviour among the living
only love and love remains for giving

among the distance and eternal youth
love becomes life's sleuth 

what remains under light's guardian? 
only love can bring me home again.

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

Frozen Glory

man triumphs only when there are no boundaries
and with this game the boundaries are set in stone
the team around you, the boys you have grown to know
the rich and the beautiful have come to see the show
steel cuts into the frozen water at our feet
the black mistress has become our only focal
our lumber bound together with adhesive ammunition
I am never alone on the ice or near the ice
breaking away or circling backward
patience is the name of the game
the more it changes, the more it remains the same
my home's past-time -- my families passion
nothing hits my ears quite as audibly; 
as the sound of steel on ice
you were my first true love
hockey, you are my only true love.

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

Puberty

if the boy did not return from the rhineland
he remained social and loquacious 
he versed in music and was quite ambidextrous 
his toy airplanes glittered in the sand
he lost his footing, he showed his hand
he sought to be carless and frivolous 
his senses remained extemporaneous 
he listened carefully for the iron gland
his gift was not to be unfounded
his turn was never to be
at long last, he finally did blossom
though lonely and confounded
to the flames of woe in the sea
his mind was wretched, among the flotsam and jetsam.

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

Jellybean Row

There is a place I know
that the locals call jellybean row
the drunk dance in the street
there is no animosity, nobody is a foe

the wind whips and curls around the battery
more complimentary then flattery
people see it as an adventure
rather then inherent danger

the car absent path of intoxication
arms entwined and shameless flirtation
a pint in hand and family on my shoulder
greasy fish, fit for mastication 

as I step off the boat in aux basque
I need not wear my mask
for I am on the rock
where love is felt when no one talks

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

A Somber November

the bleakness of which was unparalleled 
your weakness will no doubt be up held
havoc has consumed a once fertile mind
the girls and the women have been so kind
as to bring candy and cherries to my home
turned away to remain in my steel dome
no visitors, no family shall enter
bemused to myself, mumbling insane banter
scratches all over my arms and on my amygdala
the only bites consumed are on a tart royal gala
a Scottish hymn playing over and over in my head
beside me a dead poem, remembering the once bled
my slumber interrupted by a phone call;
you can be happy now, you will not fall.

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

The Devils Pew

dare not say how you excommunicated me from your life
a spoken word became as absent as bones in a sharks body
a smile which once created smiles now creates eternal strife 

the way you spoke French to me and bragged of icebergs and rocky shores
How you opened your body to me and ignited a fire in my iliac furrow
Nothing made me harder then observing you finishing my chores

from the same land as my father, you abstained from monogamy
black lace of your undergarment was no blacker than your intent
there remained no sympathy, no love, no epiphany

the rug you hooked under my bed was tireless and askew
"stay out of the desolate pits" she would sing to me in annoyance
I uncovered refuge in the form of the devils pew

a pew which was cast in the ivory of a seals canine
the ocean bubbled like a wash of salt and foam
an adopted child cries out like an overweight feline

amidst a lack of sleep I was convinced you were Satan
manic screams about, stones broken in an abandon lot
white hot coffee sipped on in a park named after clayton

the summer we drove back through Annapolis in the valley sun
carnal relations presumed amongst the proximity of family
in the wake of which you claimed to have not had fun

your daddy since long dead and you long for his touch again
sympathy escaped me and I only craved your body and touch
I have not grown an inch in the 3 years since then

at home now it is winter and the flames crackle behind me
ah, I move through the ruins of my old and tired mind
the hot fruity nature is gone, the sting of the bee

you now know not who I am or what I have become
my name has become forbidden and I, immutable
I need not know where you come from. 

From then on, I remained at the devils pew
I cried to him "my mate has worn me down" 
"I wish to be reborn, to be fresh and new"

Satan tapped his lance and spoke 
"your life is of great importance to me"
his lies bludgeoned me and I began to choke

"I will create your paradise, paint me a picture" 
I complied to satan's delirious request
"My chamber and bed must be the only fixture" 

Choking as I was, I gave him a catatonic stare
he turned his back and bid me farewell
I appeared alone without any immediate care

the bed was soaked with sweat that was not my own
"was this a terror of the night? the vision of Lucifer himself?
and for the thousandth time, I reached for my phone.

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

Gaelic Queen

His mother, a gaelic queen
his father, a rugged pit miner
he wishes to never be seen
being solitary has never been finer

the son of sons he was
the son of sons he became
an expectation he did cause
his brother supposedly the same

The gaelic queen wept over her fallen friend
her lover stirred and fidgeted in restless toil
it was her heart that she swore would not mend
her tears fluctuated like fine Arab oil

her son laid like the fetus that he became
heart wrenching in utter terror
he knew not of his impending fame
his aorta crumbled like the crystal mirror

the gaelic queen knew not of her sons terror
the pit miner remained as stoic as an old tree
the boy had no love, no hope and no paramour
"raise yourself from your anxious coma" his father did decree

ignorance bestowed upon the gaelic queen
felt as if her son was still clenched mid-ween
"leave this rotting nest!" she did exclaim
"mother please" he felt his heart maim

the gaelic queen banished her only son
to the cold expanse of the north sea
wrapped in barley, hair in a bun
her friend has perished, but she did not flee

her son canted the lacrimosa
the gaelic queen's companion --
laid still amongst the lux aeterna
the boy glimpsed the coastline bastion

"farewell my gaelic queen"
the boy waved to his mother
the shoreline and the sea in between
"I love you like no other"

and this was the story of the gaelic queen
a heartbroken Scottish mother
and a son who wished never to be seen
whom she loved like no other

Details | Ingvar Thorisdottir Poem

No Sense, No Resolution

who stood by me the most In the muddy years of adolescence 
an invisible crutch, a stretcher of magnetic preportion
may it be harmonious, or a cacophony of dissonance
the eyes salinate, the skin raises, the body with its contortion

Soon it will never be created with honesty ever again
Soon it will be destroyed with machines
my ears will begin to hemorrhage 
my lips will crack and bleed
my fingers callous
my belly aches
my eyes shut
my breath
stops.
Inhale!
life begins
life returns to you
life feigns in the middle of the night
like a day sleeper with a bloody wallet
I cannot keep you in my catacombs no longer
hit the streets with new attitude and new vigor
Please, my love, breath again and refuse to give in to life's barriers. 

Life has turned into night and now has turned into day
heart strings have been cut, and you have left me
Only soft whispers of pain are what is left to say
please, sister, close my door and let me be. 

leather jacket, cigarette smoke, a greasy beanie from 1981
make no effort to save this broken chariot
my god, please return me my only begotten son
he has absconded to the last hotel marriot

This poem receives no resolution.