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Best Poems Written by March Archer

Below are the all-time best March Archer poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | March Archer Poem

Punching Bag

I have this inkling feeling each time before i break 
a tightness in my chest, i swallow air 
and each time i want to discard every piece of you i own 
but i forget, forget, forget 

i close it off, i just don’t think about it 
and silently i let you barge in on my space 
and ask for more 
all you do is ask for more 

then good days turn into bad days 
and all my good poetry turns into bad poetry 
now i’m standing in the shower thinking over my day 
you didn’t do anything but disappoint me 

i didn’t get a lot of birthday wishes this year 
nor did my grandma send me the right book 
but i wasn’t upset, cause there was always you 
not anymore, i guess 
at least not the way i want it 

you make a point of walking over me and then wiping your feet 
and i make a point of breaking down and crying like a little kid 
and i don’t know how to say that i want to go alone 
since you’ll follow me anywhere 
but i need you to stop being attached 
attached to me, your punching bag

Details | March Archer Poem

Ocean’s Jaws

In cold winter air, I tread to the beach 
Looking for things that I think I need 
A shell of some kind, washed up jellyfish 
To the creaky shack, looking for things I missed 

I crack open the door and the warmth hits my cheeks 
Look back to the ocean, hoping it might speak 
And tell me to stop, to not go underneath 
But I never listen, I rinse and repeat 

Whatever you’re cooking, it smells like a home 
I reach out to call, and you pick up the phone
We fall back in bed to the sound of the tone 
I open up, you let out a sweet moan 

Write me your sweet words, sing me your songs 
Tell me where to go and where to belong 
I let the tide take me while I’m grasping at straws 
I let the shark eat me, I swim right to its jaws 

Bite marks and scratches, on what I depend  
A cold dish that doesn’t taste sweet like revenge 
Washed up to the shore with nothing to defend 
I beg for you, darling, to hurt me again

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Wild West

Pleasure and exposure, closure 
All of you steams and then boils over 
All of you gleams and beckons closer 
Raised well, all “yes, sir” “no, sir”

Naked edges, hollow scratches,
Bear witness as your world collapses
Get wild, dip me into the ashes,
Share your ambitions and your passions 

Wild west, child now, child then 
Insults are your ignorance, lucky guesses — your sixth sense 
Horse kicks out, is it reflex or self-defense?
He doesn’t speak, so why don’t you just ask again 

Generations came, shame evolved the same,
Open wide, tongue twists into a molten ruby flame 
Get wild, Honey, call me by your name 
Find newer ways to stake your claim 

Three bullet wounds, like full blood moons,
Gunpowder smell across sand dunes,
You loved my singing and my tunes,
You made me think that love was good 

Dances, made up through our glances
Slick back our hair, as tough as gangsters 
Get wild, write a couple stanzas,
Running won’t get your questions answered

Details | March Archer Poem

Music Box

I wind and wind and wind
And then I watch the ballerina spin
I never get tired of the soft melody that accompanies her dance

The music haunts me in my days
I hear my neighbor playing it on her piano
And I think of the way you laughed, and talked, and moved your hands 

And how you danced, and danced, and then you stopped 
Because, well, the ballerina and the music cease too
The gears break, the spring bends too much

The box is cracked into pieces
I’m standing alone and wondering 
If this was really what I wanted to feel 

I lay at night hallucinating your voice 
Thinking of things you could’ve said to me 
If we had spent more time alone

And wonder how you did it
The same dull click of the closing music box
The torn off notes and the interrupted ballerina 

The same dull look in your eyes
How did you do it?
Was it calloused rope or was it your uniform tie?

But they don’t wear ties in the military 
They don’t wear white shirts with ironed collars  
They only wear guns 

You were wound and wound and wound 
Forced to play this ugly music
Forced to spin around and dance against your will

I didn’t have the time to shut the box and let you rest
You got wound and wound and wound
Until you snapped

Details | March Archer Poem

Birch Trees

I clutch at the magazines,
the letters, the newspaper cutouts 
I look through your old notebooks
tracing over rows and rows of numbers 
a library catalog, a stamp
l’m looking for something more personal 
something that could make me feel you again 

there are birch trees everywhere you look 
I missed them, I longed for them
almost as much as I longed for the time 
when you would hug me, pat me on the head 
and call me by a new name 
every time I saw you it would be something different 

it’s been years, but I only just became ready 
to take this step, to forgive and forget 
I prayed you get relief and you got it
but now I understand why they wanted to keep you for a little longer 
why they wouldn’t let you go 

I stare at the birch tree, right next to your old apartment building 
and wonder if you would stare at it too 
you probably didn’t, you didn’t care for them like I do
you’d just pass by and get home to your books 
the books that lay in my room now
the books I grab, I flip through 
in hopes of proving that you had once existed 
that you weren’t just writing on a page

Details | March Archer Poem

Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating In Space

Beep beep beep 
The motor is running, everything is in place 
My heavy breathing fogs up the glass placed in front of my face 
The various buttons, I want to press them, such a colorful display
Ladies and gentlemen, we’re making history today 

I feel trapped by the crushing pressure, I let out a loud wail
Every moment counts, I’m about to drown, we’ve done it, we’ve tipped the scale 
And just for a moment, for a split second, my rocket ship leads me astray 
Everything breaks, I fall out the airlock, infinity pulls me away

My crew mates betray me, they cut off my chord, they say I can be on my own 
Everything’s dark besides the stars in the sky, so far, so cold, so unknown
Then I turn my head, my eyes are so blurry but I see the earth in its grace 
Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you, we, are floating in space

Details | March Archer Poem

Winter Wind, My Hands Are Frozen

we go ice skating 
we go sledding, we go fight in the snow 
 your cheeks are red because it’s cold, 
my cheeks are red because you’ve never touched me for this long 
your fingers are long, your arms are long, you throw the snowballs hard 
and you spin and spin on ice like a ballerina 

then i slip and you smile at me and extend your hand for me to grab 
except, i don’t slip, and you don’t smile  
and i could never hold you 
even for a second 
i wished to be a young man but i was just a boy 
and you were older, and lovelier 
and handsome 
and i was lonely, and confused and wanting more  

it was innocent, and then it wasn’t 
it was cold, refreshing 
a snowball to the face 
then it was heat, and lighting 
an electrical shock down my back 
when i wake up next to you 
fully clothed, and i can’t deal with the longing 
so i just lie

i traced your sharp cheekbones 
and your long fingers 
in pictures, my lips on your cheek
you didn’t mind 
when a young boy who wears skirts and grows his hair out kisses you 
you still have snowball fights, and go ice skating, and drink hot tea 
go to parties and compliment his clothes
and laugh at his jokes 
and lead him on like your life depends on it 

you kept trying to solve that 
rubik’s cube 
but you never tried to solve me
a boy, a riddle, desperate to be found out 
desperate to face the winter wind
my hands are frozen, i can’t feel my toes, my skin is turning pearly white 
i would’ve given you all i had 
each secret picked apart like you’re dissecting it 
us, blown away by winter wind 
us, melting away to frozen time

Details | March Archer Poem

the love of a poet

no one ever will love me poetically
i’ve thought about it, many times 
people will savor me
they’ll enjoy me 
they’ll take what i have to give 
but never with bated breath 
never with stars in their eyes 
and the sky on their mind 
they’ll hold my hand and stare blankly 
they liked loving me, i guess 
but never like a poet
and that’s okay, i accept my fate 
this burden is mine to bare
but i will, yes i will 
every person, every breath, every day
i will love through vivid colors
and sounds only i can hear 
i’ll bend words to my will 
and i’ll kiss and i’ll touch 
i’ll feel glitter and sparks and bass 
and clubs and waterparks 
and space 
i’ll love you like a poet will 
i’ll love you like a warm embrace

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Mother

she has the wrath of a god but the mind of a human 
the steel grip of an eagle, but she’s painfully weak 
i shake like a leaf 
since whatever she’s doing 
makes me scared to the bone, i can’t even speak 

whenever she screams, the silence that follows 
deafens me more than her voice 
don’t prick your finger, thread in a needle 
none of us are here by choice 

her stare burns my skin; it’s shabby and marred 
the scars on my knees are surgically  placed 
i’ll keep it together
my face stays unscarred 
but i look like my father; she says it’s a waste

Details | March Archer Poem

Son

there’s nothing more i want 
than to be your son
than to be loved 
and cared for, like i’m one

i pretend it doesn’t bother me
but i always get excited, giddy 
the moment you want to watch a movie with me 
and when you don’t immediately reach for your drink 

there’s nothing more i want 
than to be your son
for you to call me “my boy”
why can’t i be your boy?
your oldest boy

there’s nothing more i want 
than to leave my past behind 
we don’t need to keep looking back
we don’t live there anymore 
we’re different now 

and i’ll grow and i’ll change 
and i’ll keep wanting 
cause i know that i’ll never ever be-
i’m always in the past 
to you, at least 

always the little girl with a head full of curls 
that faded to blonde in the sun
always the youngest daughter 
and never your oldest son