Best Poems Written by Emily C. Archer

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End of Days

End of Days
                                My grandfather foretold
                                 Of this profound time
                         A time when the earth would cool
                                    Then warm again
                     When it would quake to biblical means
                            A time when men would turn 
                                Turn from their creator
                          From their natural instincts
                            He told of a future time
                    When truth would no longer be TRUE
           A deception would cover the earth like a blanket
                      Families would rent at their core
    Spiritual blindness will dominate the consciousness of men
                               Everyone to blame
                      Not a mention of Jesus' name
                   Fear robbing some of their hearts
                      Death tearing nations apart
                               Closing his eyes
                                     He said
                     A time like this is bent to pray
              Giving God all of his duly deserved praise
                   To protect his elect-His children
                             At the end of days

                                                                              (c) Emily C. Archer

Copyright © Emily C. Archer | Year Posted 2024


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The Santa Fe Trail

The Santa Fe Trail

                                       The expanse is awe striking 
                                    Unhampered sun… moon… stars
                                        Wonderful yet frightening
                           The trail is rugged and emotionally magnetic
                                    Where money has no meaning
                                     Until we reach our destination
                         If a wheel spoke breaks in the middle of nowhere
	                               And this is nowhere to me
                                                 We must fix it
                                              The Santa Fe Trail
                                           Is all I ever hear about
                                                  Opportunity
                                                       West
                                             My family and me
                                      The 4 of us and all we own
                         Loaded in a wagon with 2 horses and a spare
                                          I don’t dare turn back
                                        We’re over halfway there
                         With the beckoning of a thousand sunsets
                                       Pointing the way to destiny
                                 Still the uncertainty is intimidating
                                              Thoughts about
                                                   Thieves
                                                Tribal bands
                                              Packs of wolves
                                         The ghosts in my head
                                 With one extra wagon wheel left
                                          And 900 miles to go
                                  I wipe sweat from my forehead
                            Pooled by the band of my trail worn hat
                               A nervous smile toward the children
                      Thinking that one day my journey will be a tale
                               Telling the story of a trip to California
                                       1743 on the Santa Fe Trail

Copyright © Emily C. Archer | Year Posted 2024

Details | Emily C. Archer Poem

Because He Beats Me

Because He Beats Me

                                Back I go into the den of tears
                                Splashing them across my face
                                  The ones I have shed before
                                           The memories
                     Some I have saved for years I this horrid place
                                 Standing still I await the blow
                              My head - My back - My abdomen
                                           Reality strikes
                                         It seems so slow
                                    I am paying for my sins
                              He loves me – He loves me not
                            Like picking pansies as they grow
                                   He chose me for this lot
                        The tender kiss soft as a butterfly’s wing
                             So special I feel when he’s near
                               Oh, how my heart does sing
                                Making up is romantic dew
                                     A glow beyond belief
                           Discolored speckled vision cleared
                                 It all boils down with grief
                            Like a Lassie runs I make my way
                                    A carpet for his feet
                              Bruises show a clotted flow
                                That fade well in a week… 
                                    I plot to steal away
                          Saving money for my future stay
                  He breaks my sofa – Says he’s take my life
                                 I am his come what may
                     Stored anger churns deep within my soul
                           Backdrop game of blissful years
           My bloodshed can never atone… Neither can the tears
                 For each mirror shows traces of healthy mane
                                   I return faithful in fear
                                          Unchanged
                                            Because
                                                He
                                            Beats Me

                                                                 - (c) Emily C. Archer

Copyright © Emily C. Archer | Year Posted 2024

Details | Emily C. Archer Poem

Him

Him

                                         Beautiful - Handsome - Androgynous 
                                       Charismatic - Understanding - Unifying 
                                                      Knows your pain... 
                                          Your desire to belong - Yearning 
                                              Want for something bigger 
                                                 Your purpose... Meaning 
                                     He will fulfill all the desires of the faithful 
                                     The avarice... The political seekers... The powerful 
                                                         The meek
                                           The poor in spirit --- The elect
                                     He knows God’s laws --- God’s word
                                             Deep familiarity with Jesus 
                                                    He brings light 
                                                       Bears light 
                                                      A new light --- A new way
                                          Appeals to the minds of men
                                                        Curiosity 
                                                 Carrying prophesy 
                         Holiness in his left hand Deviance in the right 
                                      A magnet-To-Soul Iron filings 
                                                           He is 
                                                   Once disrobed 
                                            Much too late to recoil
                                                     The ultimate 
                                               Numerology master 
                                          Twister of wrong for right 
                                              The man of perdition 
                                                            The 
                                                        Antichrist 

                                            (c) 2025 Emily C, Archer

Copyright © Emily C. Archer | Year Posted 2025

Details | Emily C. Archer Poem

Snobs

Snobs

                                                    Just look at them
                                    Polar opposites of those who idolize 
                                                  A gala dinner party 
                                                        Full of them
                               Spilling onto the terrace and pool grounds 
                                    Some with wealth - Few of rich means
                                                   Not all Illuminati 
                                                 Many willing to sell
                                                    Mortgage souls
                                       If only the invite was extended 
                                                        The Snobs
                                                Valet parked status
                                               Oversized diamonds
                                               No attachment to joy
                                      Wardrobe poor - People pleasing
                                         Men masquerading as men 
                                                       Manly men 
                                               Secretly... Willing to bow
                                           Bend - Kneel - Kiss the ring
                                    All for the next exclusionary level
                                                          Snobs
                                                     Delusionally
                                                      Forgetting 
                                                  Ashes-to-ashes 
                             As egos inflate like helium filled balloons
                               With each new cherished introduction 
                                            Glitz - Glamour - Gloss 
                                           Chariots to crystal ice bars
                                             As cocktails invigorate 
                                                      And deceive
                                                      The envied 
                                                      The chosen
                                                       Privileged 
                                                      The Snobs

                                           (c) 2025 Emily C. Archer

Copyright © Emily C. Archer | Year Posted 2025


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