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Best Poems Written by Suzanne Hopkins

Below are the all-time best Suzanne Hopkins poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

The Mandolin

Sometimes in life we can only see
something in our minds such as a memory. 
A scent, a sound, a word or a tune, 
can bring us to a time that ended too soon. 
We can look back fondly when we think of times, that we relive in our minds through a song or a chime .
A string, a chord, can put magic in the air
and bring us closer to people though  they are no longer there. 
The sounds of strings picked one by one
can send pulses  of love through your heart with each strum.
As the  musical notes dance and vibrate within,
they collect within your soul and release through your skin, 
Creating a glow of light  that shines, then slowly dims,
Until the spirit returns through the strings  of the mandolin.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019



Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Opening Doors

Old woman let me help.
I can get that door for you.
The sadness in your face says it all.
It's the least that I can do. 
So many years have passed you by .
The end is coming near.
Have you lived your life complete,
or do you leave your life in fear?
I can see a tear of pain
as I look into your eyes.
You say you have regrets
and that you wish you were more wise. 
You lived your life for others.
For that you stand with pride.
But sometimes you question why
when you look in from the other side. 
Your ailing body once was strong.
I'm following close behind. 
For my yesterdays seem far away.
Sometimes time can be unkind. 
You once stood here in my shoes .
One day I'll stand in  yours.
It will be me on the other side of someone opening up the door.
My eyes will say it all , as they do when I look into yours.
So many things that we can see 
from opening people's doors.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Reset Button

Click click, beep beep.
It's there beside you when you sleep.
Bright light, fake news, glamour, gossip, bad reviews.
It's in our minds, it's in our hands. 
Have we forgot where we began?

Reset button 123 
Hit the reset button 123
Hit the reset button 123
Hit the reset button 123

Click click, beep beep.
It’s in our heads. It’s in our dreams. 
So many things we hear and see.
Gotta love technology. 
It's in our mind, it's in our hands.
They've got us hooked.
Part of their plan. 

Reset button 123. 
Hit the reset button 123.
Hit the reset button 123.
Hit the reset button 123.

Your best friend.
The latest trend. 
Without  consent, 
it never ends.
Fake news.
Words are cheap.
Hit the reset button 123 

Your best friend. 
The latest trend. 
Without consent,
It never ends. 
Fake news. 
Words are cheap. 
Hit the reset button 123
Hit the reset button 123
Hit the reset button 123 
Hit the reset button 12??

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Between Four Walls

Between four walls where families meet.
Sounds of laughter and tears and children’s feet. 
Beyond the fine carved mahogany walls,
you’ll  find the heart and soul of those who walked through the halls.
Through sadness, through joy, through life and through death. 
Through laughter, through illness, through success and through regrets. 
The construction doesn’t stop when the last nail is hit,
for the house may look finished, but the home is still being built. 
Because within those walls there lies the core, which changes and transforms as more people walk through the door. 
A treasure of memories, some good and some bad. 
Some stay and some move on but the memories stay in tact.
So when you smell that smell and see that vision, of times once shared, and you sit and you listen, you can hear that sound of quirky laughter. 
You can see the room where family and friends used to gather.
Remember to cherish those memories that four walls can bring. 
Remember how the sun would shine through the windows and warm up your skin. 
Remember the faces of people who would walk through those  doors. 
Remember the memories it created and know that  it will continue to make more. 
And as the keys are passed along and it’s no longer your own, know that you’ll always have those memories of your house you made a home.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Now Dead At 63

I  walk through the night, cold wind brushing my skin. 
Feeling I've lost all control, sipping slowly on gin. 
I look up to the sky  at endless space and unknown. 
I feel worthless, unaware , reaping solely what I've sown. 
I once was a young  man. I once thought I knew it all. 
I felt unstoppable, invincible, doing shots until last call. 
Each sip flowed through my veins bringing me comfort and pain. 
I forgot my troubles and my worries.  It kept my feeble mind sane. 
The paper is crumpled and torn between my aging paws. 
The gin is burning my throat. The negative energy it draws. 
I found my saviour, my shame. I thought it took it all away. 
It brought diversion and ecstasy----- and regrets the next day.
The flames burn  fiercely  in front of me. I see a man across the way. 
Am I looking in the mirror? I never thought I'd see this day.  
My reflection melts inside of me. The smoke is entering my lungs.
Smouldering the last of what is left of me, I  stare intensely at the gun. 
I descend violently to the ground. I can see yet I am blind. 
Bitterness fills my weeping soul. Memories infiltrate my mind. 
I hold the bottle in my hand. The mortal enemy beside me.
I have spawned my mere existence. I have created my own destiny. 
Where am I?  I do not know. Have I crossed the finish line?
My mind races with memories but my heartbeat I cannot find. 
I’m floating. Can you see me? My eyes are big and wide. 
People  told me this is heaven. I don’t believe them.  I think they lied. 
Where is the light? Where is the peace?
There are no sure things, no guarantees.
I walked through my life waiting for tomorrow.
Now all I’m thinking about are yesterday’s,  my soul filled with sorrow. 
Regrets now consume me. 
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. 
The bottle there beside me. 
Now dead at 63.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019



Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Pebbles and Stones

You followed me on the path of pebbles and stones.
I could see you behind  but never felt so all alone. 
Whats that distance, that demon,  that's become that part within?
Devouring your body and your mind. Mass confusion,  it's  a sin.  
I saw through trees to the shore,  and the sparkle shone through. 
I could feel it in me but I felt nothing from you. 
I have tried and I have failed at finding gems in souls.
Uncovering  fragments of ash and consuming  black holes. 
We dangled the cliff , the sun setting low. 
I saw you beside me,  your emanating glow. 
Your thoughts  were in mine. I could feel your touch. 
Your hands were on the rock, you were glowing that much.
The shimmer, the glitter, so hidden yet so true. 
You see what’s before me, but I can see inside of you. 
The waves scatter the surface, travelling ripples in time. 
Our hearts were beating in sync, together yours feeling mine. 
As the darkness set in, the air became still.
We walked through the moonlight descending the hill.
The bottom of the trail, covered in ashes.
A fire had been burning , an empty book of matches.
A shiny stone in the distance mirroring 
the stars in the sky.
I could see it in the stone, I can see it in your eye.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Impersonators

They walk through the grand doors, 
their halos up high.
Their pedestal they stand on. 
Their lives filled with lies. 
Masks of angels and saints, 
so heavenly and divine. 
Who believes it? Who can see it? 
They eat the bread, they drink the wine. 
They walk down the aisle 
and kneel down on their knees. 
They are a menace to society, 
an uncontrollable disease. 
As the choir sings softly, 
they look him innocently in the eye. 
Making  peace within themselves, 
before they should die. 
Their perceptions are low, 
their intentions are clear.  
They are people you should question, 
people you should fear. 
Disingenuous impersonators, 
the games they will play. 
They will  receive  their retribution, 
come their judgement day. 
Until then they will scheme, 
live their lie and never show 
the  true side of themselves 
they want no one to know. 
They will deceive you, they will fool you, 
they will become your good friend. 
They will tell you what you want to hear, 
then demean you til the end. 
As they sit in the chapel 
and your eyes catch their stare, 
be aware of their devilish influence, 
they act but they don't care. 
They walk towards the doors.  
They cleanse their souls before they exit. 
They place their fingers in the water, 
the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Different Suits

I was sitting at the table,
cards revealed one by one.
The dealer full of evil sin,
Me, all I wanted was some
Fun. 
I had waited  for my play. 
I held all five royal spades.
The  loser I soon became, 
as I put an end to the dealers game.
The king proclaimed hooray. 
He was gonna carry on his same way.
The queen was lost in a world of chaos. The jokers had gone astray.  
Caught in a game of different suits. 
Lost in the lies of many untruths. 
The cards were laid. 
My cards had been played. 
The aces concluded my fate.
I  held my prize and walked to the door.
Shattered egos  trickling down to the floor. 
Ignoring the yells, avoiding the glares, I had pissed them all off, and I  didn't  even care. 
Too many times the hearts have lead. 
Sometimes they were better off dead. 
For a heart is blind and only follows its kind,
Taking control of ones with weak minds.
The king proclaimed hooray.  
He was gonna carry on his same way. 
The queen was lost in a world of chaos. 
The jokers had gone astray.  
Caught in the game of different  suits.
Lost in the lies of many untruths.
Only the diamonds will ever shine through,
showing their true faces to you.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Toxic Fantasy

He  came to me quickly with a smile on his face.
Full of life, past adventures, passions and dreams.
A strong, sexy man  who stole my mind and my heart 
I soon came to see things were falling apart.  
Fantasy man...you have the world by your hands  
Fantasy man put your hand in my hand.
I'm in a fantasy land, I am your biggest fan. 
Losing a battle with the fantasy land. 
Desire, self destruction, battles and demons. 
I wished I could help him, I wanted to free him. 
For him and for me. I loved him. I needed him.
I could feel the time coming when I would no longer see him. 
Fantasy man...you have the world by your hands.  
Fantasy man, put your hand in my hand.
I'm in a fantasy land. I am your biggest fan. 
Losing a battle with the fantasy land. 
Dark water, blue skies, I could see it in his eyes.
A tear of sadness and pain, jealousy and shame. 
Unconscious, unaware, struggling for air.
In a fantasy world nobody cares.  
Fantasy man, you have the world by your hands. 
Fantasy man, put your hand in my hand... 
Lead me into your fantasy land.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

Details | Suzanne Hopkins Poem

Angels Fly Aside of Me

Dark clouds roll in from up above. 
My heart cries out with tears of love. 
A crying out from deep within,
For something that just could have been. 
What once was there with hopes and dreams,
Now fills my mind with silent screams. 
From up above I see a light. 
Of smaller things that look so bright.
From deep within I feel they’re free. 
The angels fly aside of me.

Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019

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