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Best Poems Written by Terri Buffington

Below are the all-time best Terri Buffington poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Past Tense

There's never a quiet moment in this orphanage of lost thoughts.
Every night I meander into group therapy alone.
I wonder which lost soul I'll save tonight,
And by the way, who am I?

AM/FM contraband,
Broadcast to the city of the already damned.
Broken bottles shipwrecked again,
Driftwood diaries left to repent.

I never knew what I thought you knew.
Barren, vast, and devoid,
Careful in my reckless endangerment.
Rose colored gas mask of years of "sucking it up."
Prepared for nothing much,
But hoping for the impossible.

What do I do now?
When Once Upon A Time begat The End.

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Operation Conniving

So this is what it's like,
On the other side.
So this is what it's like,
To be the one who lied.
Operation Conniving.
Eyes open, doors pried.

Once I sat, reluctant to use what I knew.
Allowing the waste of a talent held by few.
Well, opportunity finally beat down my door,
Finessing my weakness of being an attention whore.
Found out that intelligence ain't just for show.
Observations and smooth words, you reap what you sow,
And I've planted a whole field of lasting impressions, don't you know.

So this is what it's like,
On the other side.
So this is what it's like,
To be the one inside.
Operation Conniving.
You'll be on my side.

It's an exercise in restraint,
When your own reality you paint.
The truth is in there somewhere,
Won't point it out, don't care.
Betrayal amongst sinners and thieves.
Tell me, who's going to actually believe?
It's all just one more setup in the end,
And you are just another passing trend.

So this is what it's like,
On the other side.
So this is what it's like,
Oppurtunity applied.
Operation Conniving.
Everything to hide.

Well, here I come again all alone,
Sitting pretty upon a disturbed throne.
Magnificent puppets being strung along,
But the choir belts out the saddest song.
What's this, a new player enters the game?
A Conscience, Guilt, Feelings of Shame?
This wasn't part of the scheme, have no trump card in hand.
Forgot how to handle real life, it's different in La La Land.

So this is what it's like,
On the other side.
So this is what it's like,
To be the one who cried.
Operation Conniving.
Who's on my side?

It's possible to create what you want from thin air,
Playing those around you like a Sociopath, no care.
It's fun to see just what you can do,
But the peak is mighty lonely when it's just you.
Hurt, hate, incinerate...just leave a pathway back.
That's the trick you see, always expect a crack.
Little did YOU know you had it all planned.
Had you known what you'd do, your soul'd be damned.

So this is what it's like,
On the other side.
So this is what it's like,
To yourself you've lied.
Operation Conniving.
Nothing left but to hide.

Here goes again...
On with the show...

Details | Terri Buffington Poem

Season's Greetings

As the sky's tears fall silently,
The earth becomes a wondrous sight of sound and color.
Everything bright and new.
Everything springing to life.

As the sun's anger beats down,
The earth smiles in the warmth.
Everything alive and changing.
Everything carefree.

As the wind's fierce cold rips,
The earth sleeps to escape.
Everything gone and quiet.
Everything awaiting.

As many leaves stir from their sleep,
The earth awakes slowly.
Everything alone and alive.
Everything creeping.

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Sincerely, Me

I'm restless and senseless,
I act on a whim,
I'm obstinate defiant,
Lost between hero and sin.

I've lost what I need,
Yet recovered my habits,
Slept in a runaway box car,
Headed toward the Sabbath.

Hades' hand quivers,
Thinking of me,
Michael beckons my soul,
Knelt humbly upon knee.

Lost in the crowd,
Yet the center of attention,
Walking a tightrope,
With uneven suspension.

Lost the one thing I loved,
Like change to the couch,
Leftover frostbitten flowers,
Attempting to fly South.

Through a rain of confusion,
A Sunday Herald held overhead,
Forgotten mystifying emotions,
The right words said.

A cloud outlined in silver,
Marooned in the sky,
Walking in gratitude,
You've earned your wings...fly.

Sincerely, Me.

Details | Terri Buffington Poem

Childhood

Childhood is an imaginative adventure for which only you have a pass,
Childhood is a romp in the ocean with all the underwater mass.
Childhood is asking, "Why?" and only getting, "Because,"
Childhood is running in the cool grass in your bare feet with no cause.
Childhood is freeing your spirit, heart, and soul,
Childhood is going over the bridge without paying the toll.
Childhood is seeking that one good thing,
Childhood is flying on golden wings.
Childhood is really feeling that cool breeze on your face,
Childhood is wanting to run that one last race.
Childhood is the greatest experience you'll ever feel,
Childhood is a box you should never seal.