Home » Poems » Best » Maggie Flanaganwilkie » Best Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poems

Best Poems Written by Maggie Flanaganwilkie

Below are the all-time best Maggie Flanaganwilkie poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

Elemental

you spin 
the elements of your life 
in a vacuum 

coiled 
like a snake 
in perpetual hibernation 

no light 
no truth 
no reason 

no soft air 
to touch you 

inside 

where living weeps 
to unwind itself 

to begin feeling 

something 
anything 

the one thing 
needed to unravel 
its lonely existence- 

a touch 
of selflessness 

how do you do it 
I wonder - 

survive 

not knowing 
how to give 

or receive 

the easiest moments 
of every day

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

At a Loss For Words

My mind sighs blackberries 
and a moonstruck melody 
plays along my spine 
as I soak up the fruited juice 
of I love you coloring your lips. 
The cherry blush of breathless, 
And a smile amid the wash 
Of blueberry eyes, should indicate 
My intended reply.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

Unmasked

I've gathered hearts for seasons, and the reasons are my own; 
I'll spend no end or effort to defeat a sweet love, sown. 

So, should you ask, my task is one that really feeds my greed; 
I'm Misery, by myself no fun, your heartbreak's what I need. 

Behind the guise of caring eyes, lies Grief, disaster's clone; 
My desperate end, is you, my friend, beside me, all alone. 

With "Dear John" reams, our vacant dreams, your heart mismatched as mine, 
I'll reel you in, with half a grin, and blame it on the wine; 

Then hold your hand, play understanding games with you awhile, 
And as you sleep, I'll try to keep from laughing and just smile.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

A Seasonal Review

There is a certain spot within my soul 
That craves an Autumn scene 
Before the Earth runs cold, 
And slippers Mother Nature 
In a wealth of bunny dust. 

A poet needs to sing of Spring, 
Once, before his book is closed; 
For all the best are lionized 
In bounded works of rambling prose. 

The fair thee wells of Summer love 
Give pause to thoughts of unplanned change, 
And roots an artist's pen to scribe 
The depth and breath of untold pain. 

For me, the orange, gold and red 
Are buffers in a life that eases 
Through the Autumn's righting days, 
And brings to you a willing heart 
That dances as the moonlight fades.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

Onomatopoeia, Oddly Enough

When the moonlight's right, 
and the earthy smell of lavender 
lifts to meet a deep, evening breeze, 
and memories under long ago leaves, 
begin to fill the empty present 
with sensations of our first kiss, 
I have trouble moving an inch 
into my future. I miss its echoes.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

Creation

I read,
then chase the sun 
around the house 
to fuse the inspiration 
and the words I’ll use
to write a poem after dark.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

Counter Culture

Today's closing hangs lower than it did yesterday, 
trying to mess with tomorrow's dreams. 

Sitting here, dressed in a wry smile, my heart 
whispers to a sky, tie-dyed with the jewel 
of Navaho stone and the salmon pinks 
of Tsimshian legend. 

I feed myself with steam from Irish tea, 
invoking the memory of my first Lakota sweat lodge, 
and take comfort tracking what's left of tonight in Indian time; 
tomorrow will have to wait 'til I get there. 
This now is meant for savoring the scent, 
sounds, and sights of Mother Earth 
as she gets ready to tamp down the fire 
of a troubled day, leaving my peace 
under the watchful eyes of a Harvest Moon.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

When the Conch Shell Loses Its Roar

"We won't have a society if we destroy the environment." 
- Margaret Mead 



It's time to face the facts, Jack, Jill; 
give the marsh back to the ocean, 
move uphill. Give the river back 
its mouth, the shore to the sea. 
It's way past time to clean the obscene – 
ness from the blue-green waters 
we rape to feed us. Dead zones exist 
in the deep, yet we weep 
when nature disturbs our ego. 

We just don't get it. The need to breathe 
begins in the sea. It's life, renewed, 
in grasses that cleanse our ignorance, 
in spite of our arrogance, 
We are choking her to death 
with stupidity and greed.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

Color Wheel - Ii

Hold on;
me, make a quilt– 
preplanned antiquity
for beds that are tight and lifeless
just like most marriages-
tight, little truth,
a show...

no thanks–
I like my sweat
primal in the bedroom,
the sharp color of our breathing 
free, not a possession– 
what you let go
loves home,

and moods
are better talked
about than left in folds– 
if you bleed, too afraid to speak,
bitter wounds mount cold sheets– 
what shade of sleep
is guilt

to wind 
around your dreams.
If I say I love you,
every part of me is smiling-
all the stitching I need
to hold my mind
in place.

Details | Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poem

A Spanish Sun

Saffron light dipped and angled down 
the stairwell of an abandoned train station 
in such a way that one might think 
God put Picasso in charge of painting 
the sun-baked afternoon. 
The amber hue on earth 
was a sharp contrast 
to his Blue Period sky.