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Best Poems Written by Madame Paillasse

Below are the all-time best Madame Paillasse poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Madame Paillasse Poem

Sea Foam

The waves beat at the shore
Abruptly pouncing
Slowly retreating
Again and again
White froth churning 
My eyes watering
My throat tightening
I open my mouth
Nothing
Silence
Water blissfully moving by me
The silence so sweet
Yet saltier than the ocean waves
Neverending cerulean blue
Wading through this Atlantic oblivion
Wallowing in these dark depths
Deeper
Deeper
Laughing
Water filling my lungs
Crying
Needing you
Needing just a breath
A breath of your chlorine
Your toxic gases that are so inviting
That’ll save me

The waves beat against the shore
Abruptly pouncing
Slowly retreating
Again and again
The sea foam takes me, engulfs me swiftly
As if it’s last supper
You just watch
You don’t help me
I float among the waves, as they gently touch my shoulders
Their fingers so cool yet comforting
Something I craved
They whisper nothings in my ear
They encourage me to follow their maniacal, repetitive beating against the shore
I can finally let myself go
And let these waves take my hands and follow their peculiar dance
That is so freeing

In this freeing bliss
I can rest now
Not at peace but at blissful ignorance 
And the thought that I tried

Details | Madame Paillasse Poem

Flower

You call me a flower
But what kind?

Is it a yellow tulip? A cluster of warm sunshine and happiness? 

Or maybe a Lily of the Valley? The tears I’ve shed for you made into delicate little milky white blossoms
Each petal carefully watered by the streams of water that run down my cheeks

Or am I an Aster? A small star, made from Astrea’s tears, so small and insignificant compared to the shining, sparkling gems that light up the night sky. Looking up at those ethereal jewels, never being enough. No wonder Astrea cried, I would’ve cried too.

Or am I a White Lily? My innocence and purity once so clean, as white as snow now forever tainted with your darkness. A dark, unremovable mark on the alabastrine flower, that will stay, no matter how much I try to get rid of it.

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The Monster and the Butterfly

One blissful spring morning
As the sweet sun showered the flowers below in it’s glittering presence
A small butterfly drifted from flower to flower
It surprised the monster that such a tiny creature wouldn’t get caught in the wind
The monster admired the butterfly
The tiny creature had such an impact on its surroundings, everyone knew who the butterfly was
It was free, it was careless, it lived a life of happy bliss
“How are you so free” asks the monster
“My wings of course” the butterfly replies “They give me my freedom”
The monster thought about the butterfly’s reply, it was a peculiar answer.
“I wish I had wings like you”the monster said
“You can have them if you like” The butterfly replied
It’s tiny heart filled with a feeling of spring
It was an unfamiliar feeling yet a pleasant one, an addicting one
The monster was very surprised
Yet agreed to the butterfly’s offer
One
Two
And he plucked off it’s tiny wings
“Now you can be free” the butterfly said
Happy and as blissful as ever
The monster felt a sudden sense of joy wash over him too.
Peace, finally
It was a very pleasant feeling, one that was inviting, enticing, addicting
“Yes, I can. Thank you butterfly” he says
The monster wanted to test out his new found freedom
And feel that happy, peaceful freeing feeling
That dulled and stilled his hurt 
Oh but the wings were too small, too fragile for his big paws
And as soon as they got separated from the butterfly, they lost all their unique freedom.
They shattered
The monster was selfish, foolish 
He was a monster, inside and out
“Butterfly” he says “I…I broke your wings, now you won’t be able to be free”
“It’s ok Monster” the butterfly starts “were you free at least?”
“Yes, I was”
“Well then that makes me feel more free and more happy than any pair of wings could”
The monster didn’t understand. Was the butterfly just stupid or stupidly nice?
So they sat there, in silence, watching life go on.
“Monster?”
“Yes”
“I feel very free right now”
“So do I”
Life moved on, the clouds slowly trudged onwards, the slow hum of insects echoed around them. The soft, gentle breeze blew past them, sweeping the butterfly up and taking it far far away. 
And so the monster sat there, alone 
Peaceful but still not free

Details | Madame Paillasse Poem

Masquerade

A colourful array of falsehoods
Intricately designed disguises 
Fools, fortunes, phantoms
Masks clinging on their faces
 Lives hidden away by an illusory veils
Veils that cannot be removed
Cannot be seen
Secrets tucked away in their eyes
Each a pair of stained glass windows that peer into their essence
A glassy marble home for their soul that if I looked into too hard would shatter
Revealing everything that’s so carefully tucked away in the deep waters of their iris

The constant buzz of talking voices 
Like cicadas on a bland, midsummer morning
Droning on and on
Nonsensical jabber
Their voices forcing their way in my mind
Latching on and not letting go
Easily forgotten
Inconsequential

Fraudulent elegance that appals me  
Something so distinct yet tainted by the frantic, steps of the beings around me
Music guiding them to their predestined downfall
The string weaved webs entrapping them like insects
They do not panic yet follow maniacal horde of feverish behaviour 
Selling their souls for this siren song
It rings in my ears, pierces through my mind and lures me towards 
That’ll remain a hazy memory locked in the back of my mind

 
There in the crowd I see a curious sight
Your mask 
A macédoine of a pleasantly sombre frown 
A twisted mockery of joy
A peculiar sight
That holds a comfort alluring impression
An enticing invitation 
A looking glass in which depths I find you
What are we if not a tragic pair?
The laughable parody of a Shakespearan play
Comedy and Tragedy
Intertwined fates 
I want to reach out, take off your meticulously crafted mask
Who is the soul living in your iris?
What caused it such great hurt?

Yet I’m afraid of shattering you
Or maybe I am afraid that underneath it all
All I’ll see is a reflection of me

As I look closer
I see one single tear travel down the porcelain skin of your disguise
I search your iris from a reason 
Your crystal sphere of truth holds no answers
 It’s an empty, foggy void
Your soul so deeply tucked away that it’s invisible 
I want to reach in, pull it out
Roll it in my hands carefully
Mesmerised by its details, flaws and imperfections 
Study it and memorise it to my heart’s content
Before dropping it back into your neverending fractal lake
Not forgotten
Noteworthy 

Lost in the mob of fluttering cicadas 
Coloured visages at every burning glance
Beautiful yet judging 
Bulging wide eyes following my steps
Expressions of simulated pity contorted by their porcelain coverings 
Drowning in their stares I want to become a phantom, a child of the shadows
An angel of darkness, a spectator able to watch these creatures from afar
Undetected
Softening my gaze I seem to sympathise with these beings
After all, isn't this a perfect place to hide your face from the prying eyes of this world around you? 
Masquerade, such a tantalising facade

Details | Madame Paillasse Poem

Porcelain Play

You tell me to stop
How can I
When the porcelain play never stops
It has to keep going
For the crowd 

Yet, the cracks...
They are slowly taking over
Slowly breaking 
my so carefully built play
my life
my happiness 
The cracks get bigger, can they see? 
no amount of joy can seal them now.
The crowd, it laughs. I'm glad. They don't need to see my cracks 
Yet...
Is this the end?
Is this where my porcelain facade finally shatters?
Will this be the final bow? The last act before it ends?
Will I be brave enough to take my last bow? 

No..I cannot.
 I try to gather my broken porcelain pieces back together, hastily.
  I don't care how they are put, as long as they are hiding the scared, frail monster. 
I look up at the crowd knowing, tonight won't be the last act. 
The show must go on, for now and forever because of my cowardly behaviour. I don't bow. 
I finish with a grin, a wide tooth filled grin that is the perfect finishing touch to my porcelain facade. 
My perfect disguise.
 My beautiful porcelain play

Details | Madame Paillasse Poem

Painting On the Wall

I sit here, perched on the wall
Frozen forever 
Face in my hands
Black waves tumbling past my shoulders
Smiling, pearly white teeth glistening
My brown eyes admire you from my spot, here on the wall
They admire your features, your furrowed brow, your sharp features
But you pay me no notice
You used to
Now the only attention I get is from your banker friends
So exotic they say, 
she seems so lifelike
Her eyes are hypnotic 
The same phrases repeated over and over again
You just nod, laugh, gaze at me for a moment with a smile
Is it a real smile? Or one that’s like mine, painted on?

Tonight you are angry, frustrated, in despair
You scream something incomprehensive 
The uncontrollable wrath flaming in your eyes
As if you are put under a spell
You point your finger at me
You scream her name
You call me HER name
As soon as her name slips out your mouth
It’s like the curse breaks
Along with you, you break down
Your eyes meet mine, shattered and hurt
You stare at me, waiting for me to say something
Of course, nothing comes out
Silence
Unbearable silence
Desperate you fling your glass at me, making it break into a million pieces
My canvas forever stained in red

Details | Madame Paillasse Poem

Description of An Alter Ego

A stupid question that lingers in the back of my head
Pools in my mouth, on the tip of my tongue as if I were to get an answer 
My gaze burns into the white wall, maybe if I stared hard enough I would be able to catch a passing glimpse of a variation of me that wouldn’t be so bad 
I would like her to knock on my door
I would invite her inside and ask “It seems like you are better than me, how so?”
She would laugh, her straight pearly teeth on show for everyone to see. No gaps, no flaws, no imperfections 
“Haven’t you answered your own question, because I’m better”
I would ponder on her reply, unnecessarily rude but correct and lean back in my chair wondering if I fell off would I be able to dissolve into the floor beneath me, 
floating away from my own heavy, body
A suit of flesh that isn’t my own
A bag of bones, blood and random assortment of organs
If I had wings, like a crow, I would fly away 
Far from this fleshly vessel I’m stuck in
Far from this tortuous mind
Far from the danger of my soul
Safe from my heart that is a double sided blade

I look at this brass necked reflection of me 
A creature of similar flesh yet so unconnected from my own 
Not an alter ego
But a disgusting reflection of twisted perception of my own disturbed mind that enjoys pulling me apart, taunting me and laughing at my sorrowful pities 
That traps me in a golden cage for it’s own amusement 
Observing me from afar as I sing a cry for help
It’s perfect features with it’s broad grin that laughs at me, at my songs, at my hurt, at the world
Golden chains that hold me down
A song blissfully ignored 
A breath left in a painful sigh
A black feather falls, gently, a dim shooting star fallen
Gone forevermore

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I Am Me

I sit down in my seat and look around
How can everyone seem so perfect…so unlike me?
In the corner of my eye, I see something black like a shadow
Creeping up to me, about to pounce 
I want to scream, reach out
But the darkness engulfs me
I am trapped unable to call for help
My thoughts get as dark as the never ending shadow that surrounds me
Why am I not like everyone else? Why am I not good enough?
Just when I am about to give up
There is a light
A beam of hope in the shadow of darkness 
A helping hand, a comforting smile and a kind compliment guides me out of the darkness into the light. 
It makes me feel ok
A comforting feeling surrounds me and 
I know that I may not be perfect but I am me.

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Hospital

I walk through the hell ridden hallways
The silence so loud it almost engulfed me, dragging me underneath the freshly polished tiled floor
Each room is a new hellish spectacle 
Each person looked like a withering rose, desperately begging for a drop of water to survive.
I walk past them as if I’m better, but I’m not
I feel myself slowly withering away as well

I sit in the waiting room, barely aware of my surroundings
The low, inaudible hum of the tv giving me a sense of comfort
I liked this place, it made me feel safe
It was blank and bare, a comforting contrast to my thoughts
Everyone cared, it gave me a sense of peace
Maybe I would be ok? 
I wanted to stay here forever and ever until I wither away

Details | Madame Paillasse Poem

Shatter

Shatter me
 The aching, hollow pain that carves out the very essence of my heart burns through my veins, filling this fleshy vessel of mine
 A mystery that is as obvious as the crimson of raw blood 
Bigger than just a muscle tucked away behind my ribs 
Working away innocently, never stopping even when I want it to
 Pumping blood through my veins along with poisonous feelings and pain
 That lits up, a lonely lantern on a gloomy, dark street as soon as the slightest ray of your essence begins to peer in through this stormy tumultuous night 
I inhale your presence, basking in it’s warm light 
Like a selfish, cold blooded reptile that devours each hopeful ray of light
 I let it shatter my glass bones, my fingertips, my heart 
This is the answer to my pleas I let it drown me with my blood
 Letting the warm, metallic liquid seep through me like paper 
Breaking my bones and my soul Embracing it like a painful serenade
 A sombre sonnet, a gift that I present myself that bestows my humanity upon me like a crown of blackthorns
Cursed forevermore my own tragedy that I bestow upon myself time and time again that shatters me inside and out