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Best Poems Written by Meghan Newton

Below are the all-time best Meghan Newton poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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How over powering are the sun beams making up the illumines configuration of the blinds
that try so hard to withstand them. I experience the presence of their warm inviting bliss
every moment the mountains release their vibrant prisoner. But why is it that we so try to
push back the sun with draw string and axel? Are we guilty with dark in fear that the sun
would over shout our sins and judge us till our faces burn with rosy red its anger of our
nakedness?
How God he tries every morning, every benevolent wake of morning to illuminate us with
the warmth of his impeccable light. And oh how sad how dreary we pull back the blinds
grossly jubilant with the dark that stretches like blankets to fit our broken homes. Oh
must He be judged the way we fear that He would judge us? How deviated, misguided are we.
So let me ask, what were to happen if we were to burst open the blinds - rip them tear
them tangle them into a mangled mess?
What if we opened the rusted pane, kept bold for the presence of God?
How warm would our homes be, how inviting would our lives be for God, how anxious we would
be for morning's wake.
So how, I find my self asking, can I begin to rip away the shield that kept me hidden for
so long?
How can one remove the nails that kept into the wall?
How can one trust to be caught if they're too scared to fall? Its no secret, no puzzled test.
Put your doubt to rest. No need for flesh hands to worry about the pain. God will help you
rip the blinds from the window pane. That's his promise in the blood that the nails
themselves pierced to wood. And where are those nails now? Lost within the sands of this
earth, along with the blinds and the darkness and the sin we stained our hearts in.
Love is all in. So lets do the same for God.

Details | Meghan Newton Poem

This Word

Memory.
What is this word
We taste in our mind
Of unlimited remembrance
And timeless obsession?
This word.
Of creation’s language
And time’s resource.
A length of admiration
Or an undesirable disguise
Of which to hide behind.
Memory.
Soft words of encouragement.
Needle points of realization.
Relentless beauty.
A sinners worst nightmare.
A tireless child.
A sunset’s reappearance.
This word.
Trailing like a shadow.
Smoke in the sky.
Soundless laughter.
Flowers tucked in the grass.
As if all was lost
But not forgotten.



Meghan Newton
2006

Details | Meghan Newton Poem

Spinning On Your Broken Face

I wrote this when my husband was in boot camp. And I will write many many more when he
deploys... 



Oh great world you widely turn with sun and moon to make your entrance face.
But hath the sun be known to bring you smiling? The night, to brim your cheeks and
wrinkled face?
You groan in cognition with blaring traffic, silent steeples, the mountain’s face.
And though the sun shines brightly, can the core of the heart beat color to thine face?
For what then, when shaken form the quakes of loss? Shall rivers flow parallel with
sorrow’s face?
What then? Explain the quakes and quivers of salty sea tears, while grasses wither, burns
the prairie’s face.
If thou cant be willing to acknowledge the corrosion of thine face,
oh great world widely turning in space,
acknowledge why I miss the stars
And wonder where my tide went.
Tell me where the boat shall lead the tired soul.
For his feet be sore in boots of war.
For under my nails bares the sands of many lands that I have traveled in my mind in sweet
pursuit…
To catch the vapor if his scent
Be reminded this heaven sent.
Tell me so far the beaches see, as I too come to greet the sea
And bask in sun and salt and rain
To join in your broken heart of pain.
Tell me how thou heart beat still
Spinning on your broken face.

Details | Meghan Newton Poem

Jealousy

Jealousy.
Oh sweet Jealousy!
I feel thy bitter sting.
Take seat in my heart
And in my mind,
Take flight on injured wing.
Tis the moment
To endure?
To take one’s heart,
Once loved,
Once clean and pure?
I shant be pressured.
Gain is hopeless.
Thy tree is rootless.
I want one’s treasure.
To break through
Is the one who wins.
Shall this be my destiny,
To put out the flame of jealousy?
Wanting the possession
Which we cant hold
Shall sew my wound
Of further aggression?
Tis truth be wrong!
Tis nothing but a withered shadow
Singing its tempting song.
Raising peril
Carries the throne
On which misled
Covetness walks.
Pernishes tricks
Fail to carry
The withstanders
But chokes the one who stalks.
In the end,
The final end,
When holy sacred light
Touches down
On unholy ground,
None can hold a fight.
Tis thee who crave
A worthless blade 
That fall in darkness
With none to save.
Tis Jealousy
A path for me?
Thy urge is strong
Like gravity.
Will not my soul be moved?
Shall forever be
A tearful sea
Or an opened wound
That shant be soothed?
Jealousy.
Oh sweet Jealousy!
I feel thy bitter sting.



Meghan Newton
2004

Details | Meghan Newton Poem

Curtains and Doors

Here is a door.
Dark brown.
cherry wood, isn’t it?
Why yes of course it is.
The knob is gold.
And it makes that satisfying click when turned just a bit to the right.
Well maybe I don’t like cherry wood.
Maybe I don’t prefer doors.
They are dark.
Sad.
So dreary sad.
So uncomfortably
Noticeable
As if shouting the contents they so hide away.
Curtains, you say.
Maybe, perhaps.
They are light.
Welcoming the eye
But what they stow,
Oh.
Maybe its not the curtains
Or the dark cherry wood door with its captivating gold knob.
The key in the drawer is much darker.
Yes. 
Thick.
Solid gold.
So heavy.
So captivating.
So penetrating.

So lonely.

Best Poems Written by Meghan Newton

I Follow Thee, Thy Shepherd

A Morning With Mr. Thomas

Wake Me Up

His Impeccable Light

This Word

Spinning On Your Broken Face

Jealousy

Curtains and Doors