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Best Poems Written by Susan Gibson

Below are the all-time best Susan Gibson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Young Innocence

Sweet dreams, soft and transparent,
Floated like feathers in the sky.
And through them could be seen all that ever was.
Or ever could be.

Naivete', shimmering and shining 
With rainbow light.

Unaware of the deadends
And the could have beens
And the dark and frightening
Nights of coming life

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Before I Die

I just want someone to love before I die;
 so tired of losing lovers and never knowing why.
My giving 'till it hurts just never ends.
 'cause all my loving lovers end up just as loving friends.

 They take what fits and leave the rest behind.
 And all the love just ends up wasted time.

And i keep falling over words that always sound the same,
 and keep dreaming of an end to all the mental games,
and keep getting lost in passion's everlasting lie,
 and I just want someone to love before I die.

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

I Used To

I used to wake up in the morning
 To the music of my soul
And search the whole day through
 For one like you.

I used to sing a song of joining,
 For in my heart I felt the light,
And I reached out every day
 With hope renewed.

I used to sing.  I used to dance.
I used to whisper poems nightly to the moon.

I used to love the artist in me and all that came my way,
I used to celebrate expression every day.

But, living found me coupled with pedantic, empty souls,
With clever masquerades of magic men.
And I find that I have turned around,
And left my voice behind,
And I find that I am not what I had been.

I used to sing! I used to dance! 
I used to practice all my talents every day.
I used to find expressing life through art
The only way to be;
I used to feel that was the only way for me.

But, now I find I have a cobwebbed life,
A dusty, boring, ho-hum life,
A life without expression or esteem.
I've turned into a shadow of a girl who used to be.
I've turned into the opposite of free.

...and I've turned into the opposite of me.

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

Kindred Spirit

I feel the fiber of our lives,
  the intertwining threads of our existence,
     like weavings on a loom,
       join together.
As if made of the other's own fabric,
  our life stories play in and out
             of 
                   each
                            other,
like repeated patterns,
interplayed between us.

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

Love, Naturally

Our lips softly touch, two-to-two, making a quiet, almost
imperceptible sound...
                                leaves, red and brown,
                                skittering across the ground,
                                windblown and crinkly.

You turn your face where I can see it no more,
laying your head on my shoulder, your hair playing lightly
across my face in the evening breeze...
                                                        sparrow feathers
                                                        ruffled and puffed
                                                        in the cool wind of
                                                        after-rain.

Then, as you fall asleep beside me, breathing long, warm
breaths on my arm, I lie there, exploring the nape of your
neck with gentle fingers, until my hand falls sleepily to
your shoulder and my eyes slowly close, leaving all conscious
presence of you behind...
                                    leafy shadows on a twilight lagoon,
                                    continuing their patterns throughtout
                                    the moonlit night.

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

Everlasting

The plastic flower sighed, stealing a glance at the rose across the room.
A REAL rose, a red, red rose, that filled plastic's heart with gloom.

  Here was a rose that had true life that grew and bloomed and breathed,
  While plastic was doomed to be the same throughout eternity.
    Never to feel the surge of life, to have life's color and hue!
    And plastic cried and closed her eyes and shivered in her gloom;

And never saw that first bloom fall
                                                 from that rose
                                                                     across the room.

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

On the Fringes

Where am I in you?

Am I just sitting on the
  edges of your mind,
Easily flicked away
  when you haven't the time?

Am I just a peripheral vision?
A perimeter friend?

Do you just glance through my glass
                 quickly,
            then out again?

After all this time,
Am I still just on the fringes of your mind?

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

Loss For Words

My words fall down and skitter around
  like leaves from an autumn tree,
    dry and crinkly.
                   Sapless.
                   Lifeless.
Vestiges of prouder times
  when language used to speak my mind.

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

Quicksilver

There's an energy to us
 like quicksilver.
Moving on its own,
 flashing out brilliance.

Quick, through us, pulsing;
Belonging to the space it's in;
 The space we're in.

Brilliant flashes splashed against
our sore and tender souls.

Details | Susan Gibson Poem

Where We Think We'Re Going

Tonight I know that where we go
  is based more on what we
           know about
        where we've been 
     than where we've been,
        and, certainly, 
           more than
where we think we're going.