Best Stranger Poems


Premium Member Stranger

So long ago, or so it now seems,
I lost you and all of our dreams
because you'd changed inside,
a stranger you could no longer hide
In all the years of loving you
somehow I think I always knew
we would never make it to the end
but I stayed, trying hard to pretend
that we could save what we once had
Now it's all gone, the good and bad
I'm suffering through the healing years
filling the oceans with my tears
and still I cry; in bitter sorrow they pour
I wish I didn't love you anymore

Do you know what you should've said
on any night we lay together in bed?

"I'm sorry that I've made you cry
Please don't leave. Don't say goodbye
It's not too late. I know I'm wrong
My problems have gone on too long
and I'll get help because I'm to blame
I love you and I feel ashamed
I know I hurt you by closing the door
but I promise not to hurt you anymore
I've been a fool for letting you down
Please tell me that you'll stay around
I need you. Please stay with me
I'll be a better husband, you'll see
I want to keep you by my side
Please, tell me your love hasn't died."

Those are the words I longed to hear
Saying them would've kept me near
Words only in my head, not in your heart
It was your weakness that tore us apart
I wanted to see your repentant tears fall
I pleaded with you. I had to crawl,
but you didn't say any of those things
It was to your bottle you chose to cling
You allowed evil to have its beguiling way
as you became more of a stranger each day
I'll always have regrets. For you I still long
I had to sing the last word of our love song
How I trembled when I had to walk away 
My aching heart thinks about you every day



August 3rd, 2017
The Poet's Ache Contest
Sponsored by Greg Barden
Original Post ~ May 4th, 2016 ~
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

The Uninvited Stranger

Another tirade of drunken anger
Brought to life by the uninvited Stranger
I lay trembling, still, ever so quiet
In a corner, hidden beneath a blanket
Biting down hard on bleeding lips
I knew it wasn't to be over yet

The blistering sting whipped our skin
A silence of screams heard only within
Upon our flesh of scarlet welts
Carved by the Stranger's thin leather belt

Cold cloudy skies, a mother's black eyes
No friends allowed in while we'd panic and run
He stumbled and cursed, threatening to get his gun

To live with the Stranger's drunken rage
Was like living in hell while trapped in a cage

Karen Anglesey 2003

6th Place Win in Nathan's "In To The Deep" contest 07/09/13

Hey Stranger

I wonder what you'd say 
If I met you today 
in another time 
in a better place. 
Somehow,Somewhere 
Would you recall my name?
Would you recognize this face? 
Would you recognize my smile? 
The same smile which 
knows the color of your eyes.

Hey stranger 
would you pass me by 
with no turning back 
or will you look my way? 
Will snapshots reverbrate 
that once upon an autumn day? 

If I met you today
in a different time
in some better place
eventhough your name might be different
that face slightly changed
Somehow, Someway 
I would know it was you.

That cute little smile
when you look in my eyes
That glow on your cheek
The moment we speak
The sparkle within
 displaying your deep loving soul
The beat of your heart
needing to make me whole


Hey stranger 
would you pass me by 
with no turning back 
or will you look my way? 
Will snapshots reverbrate 
that once upon an autumn day? 

Not a chance on our life
would i pass you on by
I would grab hold your hand
and make you my wife.

Premium Member No Stranger To Love

The cold night air wraps around my shoulders like a moth-eaten shawl.  
A rasping rain pelts the bitter sidewalk below.  
Visions of what once was flash in and out of the headlights passing by.  
How did it all go so wrong, as lovers become nothing more than mere strangers?  
Your heart has grown so hardened to my pleading touch.  
Ghosts we have become, passing through each other in our home that has slowly become our tomb.  
Words have become a foreign language to each other's ears.  
How did this divide go from small fractures to seismic shifts?  
We loved each other so, now we lay next to each other like phantoms.  
How do we bring back the light within our souls,  
Before we slip through the cracks of this cold, lonely cityscape?  
Shivers run up my spine as it's getting close to 2 a.m. now.  
I stick my hands in my weeping pockets and jingle my freezing keys,  
Look at the blank screen of my phone, waiting for you to call—but you never do anymore.  
I guess it's time to start walking home; you'll be long in bed.  
I try to tell myself we can find our love again, I just know it, if we try hard enough.  
Walk up to the rain-soaked building, enter with silent tears in my eyes.  
Put down my keys, take off my coat, and crawl into bed,  
Hoping that when the first rays of sun peek through the blinds of the windows,  
The space between us will slowly evaporate like dewdrops on a flower petal.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.

Stranger In My Bed

Who is this man laying beside me?
You’re not my lover and I’m not your enemy
Searching and hoping for a familiar touch
Wanting and needing it just a little too much

Where is the man I married prior to this war?
I want him back entirely as I had him once before
They tell me he’s changed and it will never be
But loving him so much; I tend to disagree

Heroically fighting for our freedom abound
Risking his life for a cause to be unfound
Solitude and silence is one of his demands
And as for our family; we’re not under your command

Shelled and mortared each and every night
Not able to sleep for the fear of needing to fight
Hot, sweaty and exhausted; feeling all alone
Feeling as though you’re invincible; wanting to come home

Exploring and probing for the man you used to be
Trying to find similarities; trying to remember me
I’ve been with you this entire time; all the while you were gone
I never left your side my husband, even though you have withdrawn

What is it going to take for this stranger to up and leave?
How long must you isolate yourself, how long must we grieve?
Our children need you desperately as so do I
Don’t let them destroy you; don’t you dare die

Come home again my best-friend and thrust this stranger out
He’s been residing here too long and he’s reign is over no doubt
You’ve served this country honorably without any remorse
Now serve your family faithfully and let our marriage run its course

I will not give up and abandon you nor will I give in
You will fight for this family adamantly as you did so back then
I’m tired of sleeping alone with this stranger in our bed
I want that loving, caring man; I want my husband back instead

Premium Member The Stranger In Me

A stranger lives within me.
I see her now and then.
Sometimes it's hard to see the line,
Where she and I begin.

Human beings are complex.
They have so many facets.
It's like they wear a kind of cloak,
In which are many pockets.

One pocket holds a nurturer,
Another holds but self.
One is confident and brave,
Her sister grasps for wealth.

A cloak of personalities,
Which hides even from me,
The person that I really am,
The soul I want to be.

One side of me is honest, good,
One cries out for revenge.
One side of me is beautiful,
One angry and unhinged.

Which side of me will I let out?
Who will I let them see?
When will I meet the one who hides,
The stranger that is me?
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Coaxed By a Stranger

She hid her talents in the deepest darkest recessed corner
Taking it out never, for fear of being called brilliant.
She did not want to be shunned or ostracized, 
Knowing her people well

Then one day she met a stranger who coaxed her a tiny bit
Encouraged her to allow herself to be
She shook out one sliver of a slip of a talent
And began to glow, and began to grow.

Premium Member A Stranger After Dark

I was sitting on the back porch ‘bout an hour after dark
When I couldn’t help but notice a tiny pulsing spark.
I thought it was a firefly – It had that kind of glow
But I’d never seen the likes of it – what it was I didn’t know

It flittered to and fro just like a firefly does
I went into the backyard to determine what it was.
Just as I approached the place I thought that it might be
It flew right up and landed very close to me.

Soon I realized it was no ordinary find.
What happened next you won’t believe – it nearly blew my mind.
A Lilliputian creature stepped from this tiny craft
Right then and there I was aware of questions I should ask.

He must have been aware of the fear he’d caused in me.
I could see my hands were shakin’ -- never thought I’d be set free.
His tiny voice became quite clear and in a most convincing tone
 He said, “My friend, be not afraid – I‘m here all alone.”

He appeared to be confused a bit and why, I’ll never know
But the fear that he had fostered was about to let me go.
 He began to tell his story; I let out a sigh
I knew I’d better listen to this little guy.

Now, he was small in stature; ‘bout a half inch, nothin’ more –
Why, I believe that he could pass through the space beneath the door. .
He then began to tell me – It must sound like a dream.
He was here because of some wayward sunbeam.

“I race Haley’s comet to the far side of the sun.”
He said, “The race is always over before it has begun.
There is a reason for these victories, you see
My good ship Omnipresence, right here in front of me.”



“Time and space,” He said. “Are always at my command.
I can do more things with them than man can understand.”
He said, “I spin the rings of Saturn, create firmament at will
 I flew a mission of atonement to a very special hill.”

 I asked, “Do you know Jesus? He died upon that hill.”
He said, “When all things are settled, everybody will.
I led three wise men to him that cold and wintry night
The shepherds were there to witness a miraculous sight


So you ask do I know Jesus?  -- it fills me with such mirth --
This very craft was hidden there at the moment of His birth.
I was there to hear the angels when they sang out on high.
Yes, I’d say I know Jesus, That’s why I’ll never die.”

Written By John Posey
12/18/12
© John Posey  Create an image from this poem.

Soul of a Daughter, Life of a Stranger

Yesterday when I stood before him, he spoke my name
Today, I still stand, but the floorboards are cold
and he no longer knows the color of my eyes. 

With each spoonful of the steaming grey I lift my arms,
Up, then down, again and again, a repeated motion – weeping,
My arms are trembling with the weight of the spoon
that holds in its cupped womb my raw, injured soul.

Father, I say, in a voice cold from straining not to break 
I prod away the soup dribbling down his chin, gently.
The wrinkled hands are limp at his sides, lost.

What should be mad and free is caged within me; fluttering
feebly, thumping about in a circle of broken pieces
The look in his blank eyes has labeled me a stranger
But when they are closed my name is written on his face.

Premium Member Living With a Stranger - Emotive Write

You stare at me with vacant eyes
It’s like living with a stranger
Tears and tantrums we both despise
Where is the man I once loved?

Locked inside your own little world
Sometimes a piece of music makes you smile
But every day I know I’m losing you
I’m losing you bit by bit

I no longer get greeted with a loving kiss
These days you lash out uncontrollably
I get battered and bruised by your flying fist
But I’ll never give up loving you

NOT written from personal experience of living with someone with dementia

08~07~16

Premium Member The Touch of a Stranger

I could feel a connection, right here from the start
From the heart of a stranger, around every bend

What was stranger than that, was they would soon be my friends

A blending of souls, though from vast worlds apart 
I could hear every song, I could feel every wrong, 
all the cries, all the whispers
all the heart-filled expression, every soul searching question

     They reached out to touch me, and I was enthralled
     So many with voices, I would want to recall

I have visited places, I wouldn't have known
They lend me an ear and a kindly embrace
The faces are tiny, some never appear
But the journey has been one that has helped me to grow

Here from the archives that clutter my mind 
They listen so patiently, time after time
To words I have stuttered, words that have rhymed
To all my joys and all my sorrows
All of my wishes and hopes for tomorrow

     
     They reach out to touch me, and I am enthralled
     So many voices, I want to recall

You offer a page for all of my stories
I listen to yours, the joys and the worries
And when hearts are heavy, you offer your hand
With a bevy of troubles that may weigh me down
I will scatter my tears, right here on the page
Finding the comfort that comes to my aid

You share all your words, I show you my heart
You show how you care....and did from the start

As I scatter my poems and you share your own
A bond has united, until we have grown
I can click a small mouse, and once again know
Friend touching friend, is behind every poem


     You have reached out to touch me, and I am enthralled
     So many friendships, I will want to recall




__________________________________________________

Dear Stranger,

I tried my best
To show you part of me.
The side of me
You've never seen.

I'm more than a daughter;
I'm an artist, a writer,
A sister, a friend
And now to you a stranger.

I have a question,
Have you ever realized
That I have my own voice
And I have my own life?

I'm not relinquishing my soul--
I won't sell it to anyone.
If I can't be myself
Then who will I become?

I have a mind of my own,
A heart and gifts.
I have a life of my own
And it's mine to live.

Yes, you gave me life,
But it's not yours to give.
You gave me this life
So I can learn to live.

Tell me, have we met?
Have you ever seen me?
Or did you just see my music,
My tee shirts and jeans?

It's not what I look like,
It's how I look at myself.
I'm embarrassed to show you it.
Only you and no one else.

Don't be disappointed,
Mad or upset.
Be happy I have morals,
A mind and self-respect.

I'm the person I want to be.
I stay true to myself,
Meaning I'm me.
I'm me for no one else.

I'm smart and independent
Because you made me this way.
I'm no longer fearful and afraid,
That's not how I wanted to stay.

Now do you know me?
Or should I continue?
I'm making you realize,
I'm not being rude.

So make your decision.
Please, I just want an answer.
Not to be disrespectful,
But are you my mom or my mother?

If I Met God

If I met God in a snow-kissed wood,
Would he sit beside the fire’s warm glow,
And share my wine and quail egg soup,
And marvel at the falling snow.

And speak of truths I’ve overlooked,
But listen without a tilted head,
Beneath a canopy of linty pines,
With two bellies fully fed.

Now he would think it rather odd,
This battered man in tattered shoes,
In a chilly wood with notebook and quill,
With nothing more, but my dreams to lose.

Not once would he pray or sing a hymn,
Nor surmise a confession, my list of woes,
Nor wish for a thawed breeze to hie,
Nor ponder the direction longing goes.

Nor criticize my fondness of another’s bride,
Like the full moon married to the night,
Thus only spy but never reach,
To her golden shores of Leyte.

Then God would stand and tip his cap,
Without a final word would go,
And wander off into the dark,
So I might marvel at the falling snow.
© Greg Evans  Create an image from this poem.

The Stranger

Gifting dreams of hope to my eyes, he vanished in a flash
Carting away the treasure of sorrows, leaving mirage a trash

Thorns of grief were, in all, the earning on whose part
Left a delightful rose in the derelict mansion of my heart

He wasn’t the Socrates, yet he drank the poison of apathy
And with wine of love, he filled my heart’s vessel so empty

The bride of night ascended the horizon unfurling her hairs
Hands of that Azar  have given my thought’s idol such glares

Love, sympathy and loyalty are qualities profound
Anguish is what they reward you with, soothing although they sound

Walked he himself, to the hangman, carrying his cross of soul
To show me how my courage faltered in playing its role

Wisdom was rendered, Yamin, by vainglory inept
The book of vision he flung into the worthy hands of zest.

----


Azar, the father of Prophet Abraham was an sculpturist of fame for carving beautiful idols worshiped by infidels as deity

Scary Stranger

On flight to our Hawaii honeymoon, a beautiful young mother with cherub baby in arms expounded to us with eloquent conviction the unspoiled beauty of Hana.
On arrival we checked the map and left the side trip in our mind until walking the streets of Maui we met that same woman appalled at our delay to heed her advice and indulge our senses in paradise Hana. Afraid to meet her again I convinced honey to take me to those enchanting waterfalls, rugged serene shorelines, ancient mystical forests and so he started our forty miles drive from HI-37 to a:

narrowing one lane
winding high mountain edge cliffs
above precipice
 

Sixth Place: Cecilia Drewer-Haibun- 8/2/17

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