Home » Poems » Best » Abijah H. » Best Abijah H. Poems

Best Poems Written by Abijah H.

Below are the all-time best Abijah H. poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Abijah H. Poem

Passionate

Pulling this wagon by the scruff of my neck,
is like relaxing cross-legged on feeble bike handles.
The gentle gusts of your hurricane dazzle me.
Humouring the limitless requests of an oxymoronic cloud that swoops over your vision,
second by hour,
are the 3 batteries connected through the flat sides, powering my crowd of maggots.
The pedagogy of every goddess' life without the gods;
the arthritic juddering of a pencil after snapping between one's fingers that fell off;
spurs that sympathetically pierce the apple after hearing of the triangles;
wide-brimmed umbrellas drunkenly spiralling down to the epitome of existence -
"Mercy!" screams the provided resolve to them all, rekindling its might and willpower with its insecurity.
"What is the bread but flowers?
If the orchid and the rose would through the solemn winter implore,
Would we lie here in fantastical distrust?
And when the clock is returned unscathed, will you cower in it's presence?
What will it whisper to you, should such words of passion ever exist?"
The sake has been forsaken,
The sole has been consoled;
In which ethereal distrust should this fantasy subside?
For, in ours, I see a merely extinct world.
And the caterpillar has started its pledge across the tapestry again.

Details | Abijah H. Poem

Burn

I remember watching your sunrise,
The way I tried to sit back and let it unfold.
You swooped me off my feet and showed me the world.
The tendrils of a swarm,
Ricocheting warmth.
Do you ever grow dim,
Morning star?

Details | Abijah H. Poem

The Clouds of Mount Everest - may you ever rest

Flapping without flying.
It feels okay.
Your scales of fur corrode.
A foul, but sweet, but warm, but damp...
Scent of something new.

You're red and blue tomorrow,
Yellow, pink, today.
But forever, I'd say grey.

You're white, dirtied, pure.
Once lost, but now at home.

If invaders must die,
Make yourself the furniture.
You can stain my doormat red,
So you can see me before we part.

And I will hold your face in hand,
And with one cloth, I'll clean
Your blood away from head.
Your blood away from eye.

Your scaled tail of fur.
Your cotton socks.

You're red and blue tomorrow,
Yellow, pink, today.
But forever, I'd say grey.

You're white, dirtied, pure.
Hurt, but still at home.

The metal strings of death
Tug at your whiskered roots.
Cling, my angel, cling,
And mark my shoulder pink.

Like lovebites from a lover,
Your claws can mark my home.
And dig out, I've felt you leave before.
Must you leave me here once more?

You're white, dirtied, pure.
Alive, and still at home.

And forever, for not seeing,
Life would tell with much dismay,
"If you're white and brown today,
Forever, I'd say grey."

Classic, Zig, you are,
But I search and search and search
To no avail.
Nothing could replace...

The noise of so much hurt:
The grazes, gashes, wounds.
They sing to me. And, awe.
And silence.

Your silence.

You're white, dirtied, pure.
Here. And still at home.

Because we were flapping without flying.
And it felt okay.
Your scales of fur were damp.
A foul, but sweet, warm, damp...
A scent of something new.

If you're bloodied and blue today
Forever I'd say grey.

And under the ground you go.
And out of the way, you stay.
And over your vessel, I promise.

You're white, dirtied, pure.
You're gone, but still at home.

Details | Abijah H. Poem

Don't waste my time

The ambush came in back to back
The train that came was right on track
To me, this feels like blasphemy
I won't stay how they wanted me

When I die
Will I leave by their design?
I'm not sure if I'd
wanna know
so
Tell me a lie

To me, this feels like blasphemy
That I can't breathe at all
It's just a waste of time

Details | Abijah H. Poem

Onions

my dear friends,

i am writing to address
a memory of sorts:
a lovely barbecue,
evening, on the beach.

you all brought
ingredients
to pile on my barbecue.

you all brought your onions
your palette knives
your cutting board
and one of you were
cutting onions.
                at the beach.

the juices, they pricked
pricked my sockets for droplets.
oh, it was lovely,
the sizzling crackle of veg.
and i took my chair,
i examined the burns.

the sizzles, the pops, how the knife had painted
the onions
onions!
red onions in the sky .

it scorched my eyes
oh! the taste!
and you were all so thrilled
to share your creation

the meal was fantastic
filling for the night, but for days after
i couldn't rid myself of
onions
without cutting them away from my eyes
so i vaguely remember
in a dream like state,
one of you took your palette knife
and scooped them out for me.
i cried and shook for hours in relief!

and, oh! what a time.
and, oh.
onions.

Details | Abijah H. Poem

You'll get Yours -- Tooth for Tooth

12 when I wrote this, from the perspective of a mushroom.

My gills grasping at air, but the grass is not too far;
My scales glimmering stupidly to shine through watered tar.
And in the gaseous tarmac world, I shine here far too bright,
And oh, the air, too stale if for my gills to get it right.

I long to build a house and make a living off of sticks,
Press flowers to make bookmarks. Feather ink dips.
And for one day, to hear ... a knocking or a rattle
Of rats and pigeons at my door. To me, should they grapple

I wished to fly away with birds, claws ripping flesh and all
To find my new roots in the sky: frail, delicate, tall.
I wished to burrow in the ground when I must collapse.
I wish to hide me from the world. I wish for a relapse.

A tingle down my stem, my gills no longer pulchrify
My dirtied shine, my residue: I tell you, "eye for eye."
This vivid tarmac world around me, perfectly reflecting
How little you appreciated when we were worth defending.

Details | Abijah H. Poem

Batteries

When my batteries run low
My cogs screech, the spinners
And my eyes grow dimmer
And I'm walking numb
When my batteries run low

Their double A selves
Marked with gold and black positives
Or silvery white negatives
A living ying and yang
For the future, past, and present

When my batteries run low
The water evaporates me
And overwhelms me dearly
And I'm living numb
When my batteries die low

Details | Abijah H. Poem

So, and so, or so

So creeped out by my own ideas,
So I am so bad as I seemed, because
So and so said so, and
So and so sees it, and I'm
So scared to be what I'm scared of, what
So and so is said to be, what is
So so bad, so bad as it seems, she's
So creeped out said so and so, and
So scared to see it for so long, and
So and so said so, with
So and so and so and so, so
So so so so so so so.
So very much done with this.

Details | Abijah H. Poem

The Starfish

I treasure you, and promise to not conceal
Your eyes, your love, my love, my eyes
I promise forever to never disguise
I promise forever to show you what's real:
Today, how much I truly adore you

And promise me, that in any one dire
Situation, for sure, you'll let me be there
'Cause for you, I'd walk through the fire bare
And promise me, if we ever retire,
That I can still be here for you.

Details | Abijah H. Poem

Untitled

If I swear on my life that both are the same,
Why is one loud and distorted?
The other, just silence, fictitious guidance;
Too gentle for minds too contorted.

The first says I'm needy, but is, itself, greedy,
The second too quiet; it died.
It flew away fast and I asked for help lastly
But it had already passed by.