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Best Poems Written by Theo Nikula

Below are the all-time best Theo Nikula poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Sailor

Shaped by wind and sea

Ship on the ocean floor

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Solitude

Idle hands,
resting on the table. 

All strength sucked out, 
lifeless. 

Touching, 
feeling, 
but sensation is no more.

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Final Thoughts

I’m sitting in my rocking chair. 

Back and forth it goes, 
like a tide;
Alike life. 

Back and forth, 
like a constant stream of thoughts;
Moving emotion, 
never ending, 
to my journey’s end. 

So many things, 
remembered and forgotten. 

But in the face of death, 
life is but a pebble; 
Kicked along the pavement by a child.

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Open Cage, Birth, Funeral

Fear comes and goes. 

Tidal waves.
 
Cleaning the shores,
repetitively.

I too, am afraid. 

Afraid of loss, 
Afraid of things which I can’t explain. 

And of the bird, 
deciding to depart, 
unreasonable. 

I want the bird to stay, 
and I know that it will. 

But the other bird might not, 
which leaves me feeling;

Nauseous.

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Agony

Crawling in my bones;
Poison, 
Injected. 

Crows picking on me. 

The itch.
The terrible itch. 

Reaches through my skin, 
Burning me like acid. 

It hurts. 
Oh, it hurts so endlessly. 

When will it depart from my fragile body, 
My mind, so clean. 

When.

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I'M Going To Bed, Said Mr Bell

I didn't sleep well. 

Matter of fact, 
I never do.  

Sleepless nights, week after week. Early morning, yearning, for something to improve my state of being. 

A being, which seems to me as more of a prison, than a life.  

It never gets better. 

Rooms filled with people, eager to learn, but yet I'm just; 

So, so, tired. 

Walking instead of sleeping. People passing my pale cheeks without a notice. I'm invisible. Like a ghost among men, never to be acknowledged. 

Growing weary of it all. This life of mine is more like a slow walk towards the coffin. A walk towards the land of six-feet-under. And I'm tired.

Oh, so tired.

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If You Only Looked Closely

Searching; 

Something lies hidden in the depths of the mind. 

Like a swift flap of a butterfly’s wings, 
sensible. 

It’s there, 
surrounded by dark shadows of a past, 
remembered. 

Life has left this man forever, 
never to return the light to his eyes, 
fill up his hardened skin with life, 
make his old heart beat. 

It’s all gone;
And so the box remains closed.

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Hatred For What Is

Water, 
running down my weak shoulders. 

A laughter, 
like tiny rivers, 
cleaning me from all things bad. 

Strengthening;

Letting go of the weight, 
gravity, 
free falling, 
floating. 

Birds, 
flying, 
chirping merrily. 

Strong shining stars. 

Tranquility, 
spreading like drizzle. 

Showered with; 
Tiny drops of water

Soft against my skin;
Gentle words.

Words, 
that mean everything.

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Fragile

A broken window, 
which I used to look at the world. 

I'm picking it up, 
and my hands are in pain;

Bleeding.