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Best Poems Written by Ohseannah Hannaesho

Below are the all-time best Ohseannah Hannaesho poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

Trapped Dreams

Sound of kitchen supplies,
Lonely espresso in the morning.
I wore deception and walked through the 
Willingly blind people 
That crowded the cemented roads;
Ants each with a role, 
Some carrying the weight of no answers
Some the weight of no questions.

The screaming, the crying, 
The fear, 
Desire to escape the bedroom cell;
The companionship of silence
Foreign kindness,
Friendly pain,
All in me, with me, on top of me
Below me, surrounding me,
Following me, grabbing me,
Arresting me.

Convicted to dead thoughts,
Breathing out the spoiled odor 
Of a decomposing mind;
 
Emptiness of conditional love,
Abusive love,
Aggressor armed with self –hatred
Beating out of you desire,
Obliging you to crawl
On your blistered knees,
Like a rat seeking food,
Feeding off crumbs of happiness.

Savior night, 
Putting him away in the darkness;
On the balcony
The smell of a peeled orange,
A sinful cigarette burning,
Looking inside,
Dull light leading the way
Through my door to his door,
So close,
 Yet so far away from misery.

I step back inside 
Covered by soft sheets of dreams,
Thirsty soul, only tears;
Rest floating around me,
Darkness put me away,
Hide me from him,
From life,
From torment,
From disappointment,
From all the trapped thoughts
And all the trapped dreams.

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

Walking

Walking in my soul;
I took my shoes off as I started to walk,
The noise they made was too loud
I could hear myself following me.

Walking barefoot in my soul;
I had to stop and look behind
And there they were my footprints,
Quiet footprints in a circle.”

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

I Lost My Life

I lost my life.

Where is it?

Is it covered by my passion red throws?
Is it sipping coffee from my morning yellow mug?
Is it floating around disguised as cigarette smoke?
Is it dispersed in the lavender scent of the shower gels I use?
Is it painted on the faces of beautiful women displayed on fashion magazines?
Is it asleep, nurtured by the sage soft comforter?

I lost my life.

Is it on the car seat as I drive to work every day?
Is it on the keyboard?
Is it amongst the people I see in that corporate cell?
Is it in the alcohol of the happy hour drinks?
Is it in the eyes of an old man sitting at the bar?
Is it in the tanning salons?
Is it in the bags of frozen food at the supermarket?

I lost my life.

Is it in the picture of the man I long for?
Is it in the thoughts of the men that long for me?
Is it playing with kids at the Sunday park?
Is it praying to God in the different churches?

I lost my life.

Is it staring at me from the dark sky at night?
Is it the warmth and light of the sun?
Is it suspended between the seasons?
Is it locked up in the hours that can’t cease?

I lost my life.

I can’t wear it,
Like a pair of pants outgrown
I can’t see it on me.

I lost my life.

Lines on my face,
Signs of how time has owned me,
And how life has escaped me.
I lost my life.

When did it stop being all I have,
All I do
All I remember
All I hope for?

When did my life get trapped?

When has it become everything there is
In between all I am...

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

My Son

My son, 
extraordinary occurrence
coming from the unknown
going toward the unknown,
Perhaps born from the divine predicament
Perhaps from pure coincidence.

My son…
I cannot mention your name
I cannot glance at your face
I cannot kiss your cheek
I cannot smell your presence
I cannot allow a thought of you
Without your entire life, every moment of it
Invading my mind, my heart, my soul.

That first heart beat echoes in my mind:
It was shy but fast to compensate,
New but familiar,
Yours, but alongside mine,
part of me.

The day I first saw you:
Tiny little creature with unthinkable potential,
The cry of a siren, the glance of the ocean
the smell of country rain, the warmth of a summer day.

My son!
You have enlightened my life.
You have brought innocent enchantment
You have brought unashamed curiosity
You have brought daring harmony,
You have brought brave positivity
You have brought loving gravity.

My son,
Because of you
I don’t regret, I accept
I don’t forget, I forgive
I don’t just live, I aspire
I don’t fail, I learn
I don’t just age, I grow
I don’t expect happiness, I choose it.
Because of you I try to be the better part of me.

My son,
Thank you for being, for existing.
Thank you for being 
The sound of my silence
The dreams of my sleep,
The thoughts of my mind
The love of my heart.

My son,
I have been graced with being chosen
To pass onto you what was given to me
A chance at life so TAKE IT, EMBRACE IT.
Dare to dream the impossible
MAKE MISTAKES,
Laugh out loud
Dance like a lunatic
Smile, cry
LOVE,
Just be, become.

My son,
You are a shooting star
Shine bright
Be that inspiring light!

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

Florence

Sweet late night kisses
In a familiar parking lot,
Hold me longer and don’t lie to me
Comforting lies are not enough.

I’ve been on my own for so long
I’ll wait a month longer;
I close my eyes and I can see
your wrinkled hand holding mine
on a sunny 80 something bench.

In your arms, I found reason to 
Forgive all my past mistakes
I found a way to let go,
Let this strong and accepting heart
Be fragile and hopeful again.

I fear to become like Florence
The beautiful lady upstairs that danced alone, 
That died alone.

Take me with you
Dance with me,
Let’s dance under this forgetful moon.

You whispered you only dance for love
And you’re dancing with her.

I prayed for you to come away with me,
But now I can’t pray for myself
I can only pray for your happiness.

I’m crossing the days that make up this month,
Days take over nights
As nights take over days,
And yet time is so still.

One month,
Is too long for my tired, doubtful mind.

Maybe I should forget you,
Let you dance with her.

I shall dance alone,
Alone;
Just like my beautiful Florence.

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

Dismissal

I am sitting here alone,
I look around and I see:
The couches you wanted to be here,
Brown leather, brownish auburn leather,
Couches made of a football dream,
Shattered, or a football dream
Imagined;
I see a misplaced shelf, 
Once towering over my desk and a dream of togetherness.
I look some more and I see the bar stools by the kitchen counter,
Empty;
No children to sit in them, a family dismissed.
I see a light oak kitchen table placed by the
Dark cherry hutch. 
Once a set,
Now two individual pieces that quietly state,
Their will to not belong.
I listen to the sounds and I hear:
I can hear my heart beating as it always has.
I listen closer and I can hear the baby breathing.
The breath of new life, hopeful and unaware,
An existence allowed by chance.
I breathe in the air of this small apartment
And I smell:
I smell the candles burning;
Please keep burning as you might be able to burn 
The cells that cause me to remember.
I smell sadness,
I smell an unkempt apartment and an unkempt union.
I close my eyes and I try to feel and sense:
I sense your presence still lingering here.
I dial your number, the number meant to be my answer,
…no answer.
My call has been transferred to an automated voice mail system,
My call has been transferred to the dismissal of emotions.
I sit still and listen some more:
I listen to the me that is left, telling me to stop holding on.
Please let go of your embrace.
I will go taking the best of you with me as
You accidentally gave yourself a chance to start over.
I will replace your sweet lies with the loyal truth.
I will never seek happiness in a glass or in a white line.
I will never seek happiness amongst people that live 
as drums beating to the sound of emptiness.
I will walk sober, and will embrace 
Life and death intoxicated only by images of happiness
That will be earned.
We walk different paths for a reason. I can’t follow you because
I will elude myself along the path that you have chosen.
I refuse to be a ghost before my time has come;
Your freedom to not be will be my freedom to become.

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

Patch Doll

Rain chasing rain,
My mother’s heritage
The ability of being used;
Make me smile,	
Touch my hand,
And I am there, slave to a glimpse of acceptance.
Patch doll,
Patches of unfulfilled dreams,
Patches of buried desires.
Dreams,
Ashes twirling about,
Hovering over the grave
Of a life, unlived.
Potential of potential,
Tangible illusion,
Shapes sculpted without lines, 
Without borders.
Expectation of greatness,
Anticipation of being.
Living death
Dying life,
Pushing against the cold unknown
Just to be,
Crushed by the weight of layers of pain,
No way out,
And no way in;
Cover this grave with flowers,
May their beauty,
Be my salvation.

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

Springfield Avenue

The street lights blink yellow and red,
No traffic to stop,
Cars are parked,
Shops are closed,
All is quiet,
All is still.
The wind sweet and warm,
Conceals all the unsatisfied desires,
The pain, the sadness,
And infuses hope
In the new day awaiting.
The moon, the trees, 
The sound of sleep in the air,
The dark sky, the presence of God
And my loud thoughts,
Sit with me on my drive on Springfield Avenue.
As I drive,
Images of what I know:
My parents’ unexpected hug,
Toffee, chocolate pudding,
The smell of grass just cut,
The swings, the fireworks,
My grandmother’s stories,
Of an Italian blue sky;
My aunt’s lost love,
My father’s dreams,
Me at 9 on that plane
To a different life.
My first crush,
The day in that church
When I said yes
But felt no;
Me at 26 on a plane again
to a new life.
My first love,
The greatness of it,
The pain of having to 
Leave it behind.
Images of my cousin,
Standing at the alter,
His love in her eyes,
And on her brother’s face,
My grandfather’s smile.
I drive, drive, and drive;
Drive away from the angst inside,
Drive hoping for more images,
Drive away from all these images,
Drive to remember, drive to forget.

Details | Ohseannah Hannaesho Poem

The Last Moment

The last moment of you haunts me,
You were sitting there on the couch
The dark afternoon all around us,
You were still wearing the night before.

Silence, silence, silence;
That silence was the loudest of all sounds,
I was sitting next to you yet you were so distant
You were unreachable.

I was looking for myself in your eyes
But I couldn’t find me anymore
You had thrown me out,
Now I’m back into my half life.

The night before raped and ripped the
Whole into halves again
But it didn’t stop,
It ripped the halves into hundreds of pieces.

I put the pieces back together
I thought I would see “us”,
I put the pieces together
And it’s only half,
My half.

I’m looking at my half,
Some pieces are your pieces,
Some of my pieces are still with you;
Keep my pieces as I will yours,
My half looks better with some of you in it.

My half looks better now that you are part of it.