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Best Poems Written by Angel Copenhaver

Below are the all-time best Angel Copenhaver poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Addict

I see you speaking, 
your words misleading
I watch you closer 
but hold you further.

Your double meaning and secret keeping,
my heart is aching, my soul is reaching.
It calls out to you, why don't you hear me?
They echo into, your arms deceiving.
I'll disconnect now, for a moment 
but memories flood, I can't control it.

Our love is a poisin and it's deep within my veins
Our life is a mockery its driving me insane.
Our kiss is a catalyst to every horror show 
that kiss is the only kiss that I have ever known 

Ideals of my former self get lost within our sheets
I only feel the  beauty and I can't control the beast.

Together we did, conquer sorrow, but it was fleeting, gone tomorrow.
Goodbye my lover, goodbye my brother, i know we've learned from one another.
Lessons felt and rediscovered, goodbye my lover, goodbye my brother.

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Schizophrenic Love

There. I hear her voice 
It illuminates the air 
It tinges the rain when the clouds are full. 
Echoing a remnant of a thing some have claimed as love. 
I ache with almost saturation.
These unrested almost's that crawl beneath my heart. 
They are never anything but an almost! 
Is this the tip of my longing? 
Fractures of beauty and whiffs of reality float near and almost, also.
Taunting and puzzling these almost's pass by
and by..
She is again
I hear her!
Each fragment reminiscent of she!
I cannot still myself long enough to paint her beauty. I have only almost's
Even when I have her..
I have only almost's to give:
Almost a feeling I thrust,
Almost some passion I h(e)ave!
Almost, almost.
almost.

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Animal

Adaptation is survival
Consistent influences warrant
Adaptation
External influences
Transform thoughts
Into internal
Influences
Survival has no morals

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Process

Abstract idea
Communicated/expressed
Verbally?
Diverted/digressed
To hieroglyphics!
(re)constructed/percieved
To conform(to)able
Comfortable
Beauty:
Poem.

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Falling and After

You sneak into my mind 
One memory at a time 
Everything is u before i know it
You sneak into my brain
Nothing is the same 
I feel crazy and i pretty sure i show it
U snuck into my life
When ur gaze met mine 
We felt dizzy and we did explore it 
You broke down my walls 
You wanted  me to fall
I fell deeper than i really ever knew it 
I drove you insane 
I put up constant barricades 
You had me by the heart and we blew it 

Now we'll never know 
Distance between us grows 
Our stitch in time has torn a whole and we cant sew it 

You sneak into my mind 
One memory at a time 
Everything is u before i know it
You sneak into my brain
Nothing is the same 
I feel crazy and i pretty sure i show it

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Us

We can reach our (under)standing

Only once we've (under)stood
Behind
Beneath
Our seperate values.
Then we de and re construct 
Perception
To incorpate us 
Two
To(get)her(e)

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Covid

COVID
A cocoon starts. Thick membranes of tissue encompass yourself. Gathering and condensing molecules and listening to life. 
This skin, its filled with strains of a virus and craves the crevice of familial caves. A barrier. The host of your new pupae calling itself quarantine. Quarantine. This thick mucous seeps and creeps around the home and tries! It tries to wound all life into one. It fails. A pupae is one. You are. You are the life form that contracts a shell of collective consciousness. This shell that reaches for more, it is yours! You cant breathe. You want to share this cacoon with everyone, ANYONE. Then! Feelers. You have sprouted not only antennae, but music! The melody of change gathers atoms and sings the song of wings! You! The cacoon was meant for you. You hear yourself for the first time and when you emerge they see your beauty but cannot hear your song. Suddenly! The membranes close in on them. And through your newfound body and song, you console them through their own metamorphosis and together you sing the song of the butterfly.

Details | Angel Copenhaver Poem

Vagabond

She that travels alone 
Dies in the end in the bitter cold
With a trail left behind her
Of
Whispers
Thoughts
Of the world
And time
That was never hers to
Own.