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Best Poems Written by Katrina Parkinson

Below are the all-time best Katrina Parkinson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

Forever here, forever young

Coddle my wounds as you once had done
So unearthly spirit, do your lips quiver the names of all you had pained hither
The wicker of my wallowing moon, do you see, so speak
If one had been held from whence my end had discovered, 
From whence none shall recover,
Had you seen, so spoke, every bludgeoned apology struck parched upon your fallaced lips,
Yet none to touch, none to see,
Ever poignant word that had struck e'er so deep within me,
So see my tears, so weep upon these fears,
Had lapped upon the sand, drenched and disfigured with every clear blear of word
Had you seen, so had you spoke
Would you then succumb to every fear
Bleating upon the cognitive recognition of childhood
So hold me now
Here, as you had once done.
(without fear)

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

Mothered

My mother is not a good mother
Perhaps I tried to deny such a truth at one point
Perhaps I always knew
Cruel, masochistic, benign to my every woe
I only wanted to be mothered, mother
I think I dont want a mother, anymore,
Mother?
She was never my mother
No, always but a mother to anyone else
Mother, all I wanted was to be mothered 
I only wanted you to pay attention,
To my bellybutton, mother
All I wanted was a mother, mother,
Not you.

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

A Goddess to Ravage

Blaring lights of glaring savauge,
Gaudy surmise ceased to suprise

Light of darkness, sun to the sky,
In sight to sanitise the tear of thy eye

Unswept and wept 'pon broken bodice,
Wept and kept and hounded the goddess 

Fanned the fawn of cauterised fallace,
Hell of cold, unearthly palace

Chaste and torn chest of satis,
Man to maid and hound of malice 

Seam to see unravel of ravage,
Goddess to test the fondest of savage.

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

I am the bitter taste of gall

Is it wierd how my scars ache when I think of her (unbled blades, tap of streaming tears)
Is it odd how I wish to kick, stab, bludgeon her (the dog hung within the gallows, mellow flesh hung low)
Is it wierd how I cherish my lacking ability to see her (as a true mother, was she?)
Is it wierd how I wished she simply died, (dead, dead, a dog borne to death)
Because its not (I know its not, its not, its not)
She is nothing (to me, to everyone, she never was)
Absolutely nothing, when I truly think of her (the torrent of clotted blood, free)
How I wish she'd drown within my mindless plain of unshed tears (searing tears bathed within my bath)
I wish I punched her myself (i did, i swear i did...)
Pounced with the same ferocity as my feline counterpart (slashes upon the very fearful fleshy wrist)
I wish she were dead (by my own hand, claws fail to retract)
perhaps one day the blood I mercilessly shed (the bitter taste of gall, black, hopeless)
Shall bulge and clot upon my leg (blood baring blood, eyes unseen to the eye)
And state her name (the fear of flesh)
Transform into her mane (the bane of bone)
As it were I who slashed every letter... (blood borne blood)
Is it wierd that I find solace in these wounds? (blade and bath)
Within the hurt of her (a bath bathed within blood)
I think not, because it is not, it never was.
(so I shall say goodbye)

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

Bloody Shores of Fear and Ice

Bloody shores of fear and ice, seldom seen
To be the stringent strangler borne of leaden blight
The barred bastard, whore of the night
Seen so the lowly leers led to fear the fall of life
Stitch of mind, sown to soiled sickly ails
Hie thee, and hail, to the tale of mind, in
Bloodily bodied names, satin faced for the dame
Paled in pallor, for the witch’s wicked hour
Within Buoyant bliss, sweetness slashed by sharpened kiss
Miss of missives, begotten the barbed sir, 

“for who shall see, for who shall impede”
“th’seed’d blight o’birth shall receive, to be…”

The bane burdened to birth, borne blade bade,
Shameless flesh on whitened plane, loss of gain,
Pain of vanity, forlorn on sanity, to be,
Morose and emancipated, of eldered youth, to see,
Flesh of forborne fantasy, lay'n upon foreskin of fantasised fallacy
Blackened and drowned the breast in mulled mirage
Befallen the besotted and kissed the tendered brow
Love to leave, the missus to be missed, to the
Bow of mutilated man, and to feel
The warmth of human disease.
(is to see what is meant to be seen)

To be loved within livid leers
To be kissed within saddened tears
To fight the fall of the detestable
To fight the hind of the unmissable

To let fate take upon the shores of snow,
Is to know the end of fear, and the enticement of ice and foe.

2//4//2025

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

The Eclipse of Two

Besotted, ensnared and diverged thy pupil
Dilate the ache 'pon holy gate
Sewn son to sun of love'n marred and married gait
Palpate the touch o'titular chance
Kiss'd and carresed thy senile smile
Tipped'n tallied bashful sway, to fall
Away, and away, eyes to 'ssemble 
And resemble the semblance of valour and holy hour
Mine to my own, to pitiful ponder
Shone Sun to shine 'pon th'drought of moon wept wonder
Sullied sultry shout yonder, and o'er the wind swept chimes 
Of chortl'd laugh, and Sun sung sonnets
T'lay a kiss t'stain, and eclipse within th'sky. 
Dearest, and dire to die for, Sun of mine.

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

Ever Effervescent -come, shine of the morning dew-

Our words hushed within the requiem of dusk
Within sorrowful nights come wistful days
And o'er the saints and their haunting gaze
A shade, one more
A day foretold
My heart at peace, at tender brow
What's dark and bright
Comes day and night
The morning dew mellows 
At the barron's implore.

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

To a future Lover

I am watching 3 inches off of the floor,
The man outside waits at my door
I know the screams from within the box 
Howl and call upon your order upon the rocks
But I know you can hold your tongue 'till the end of the night
And I know you can wait until I seem right.

Feel your spite, wait for the burn
For we all want, we all yearn
Wait 'till the rafters waft clear air upon your neck
And slither the silver lined tears that slipped as I begged for you not to check
Went as you dreamt and I wept as my days fell to waste
In haste as the rafters breathe my name and a lack of accosted face.

Calm the wolf from within the box 
As it grazes your poisonous flesh to protect my infancy from the fox
And I know its not time to let go
But the manhole beneath my feet pounds at my door, as I fall slow
The stars dont seem so far, I have found
Wait, for the words beneath the world may fall down.

This cant last for much longer, not anymore
But there's so much water pooling beneath the door
I wait for you to pick up your head from the floor
Before I fade away and fly
Further towards the future prediction of faded grave
And engraved words that spoke of one, and none that forgave.

Wait for me, wait as I wave, hold upon my lacquered oak door
And hope your unsustained kisses sing the words slipped beneath the door
In my heart I had a place for you
In my mind, I thought you knew
through and through, your fist would always break through 
Before the chain of the swing broke and the manhole only grew.

The poem never ends heartfelt 
We forget this flesh, blood and bone was borne to be felt
Forget this sad life, for I'll slip by silently
And we can separate separately 
Before your order is recieved
And my door can recede.

Treat the right side of face, made up and out of place
Criss-cross down and turn before the water can swallow what is left of the face
Lullabies left to ripple across with words sang through a silver lined haze.

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

The Hound of Sleep

I see thee yet, mine eyes on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Thus to mine eyes, o'er th'one half world 'pon the sacred curtained sleep,
Seek thou sure and firm, set stepp'd earth nigh summon thee to Heaven, for 'twas echoed knell,
Thy very soul hath prate of thy whereabouts, hear it not, 'tis seeming rest,
Was't the bludgeoned torrent that hath 'straught and tarnish the flesh in faith?
Is't the the awakened howl that hath thus cried? Thou shan't look on't again, thou'st darest do nought.
Thou'st which poor malice hath hail th'merry well half hounded soul,
'Tis the keys locked 'pon thy versities, for 'twas once the pungent ghoul,
Cribb'd, confin'd, is't the glowered blood that hath b'come blanched by thy wall,
Hath slept'n stitch, thy valiance hath drunk'n thy blood 'gainst the wear,
Thou wouldst cut deep, for 'tis o'th'world th'hellhound e'er so sharp'n sleepless squalor,
Here hath thee lay, 'tis'n tow for th'clamoured "love-long livelong night" to close,
Thou see so speak, so th'lamentings heard i'th'air, hath clench the hand e'er so badged'n blood,
'Tis the trill of th'obscure bird, Ho! Do pall th'horror, the wine of life is drawn, sun dreamt'n covered in gall,
'Twas a bath bathed within thy tears, so slept'n the affliction, hath bellowed deathless fears,
Thou hushed had it now seen, so scarf upon the eye'n tender brow, hath drench'd th'sun crowned crow,
So lay th'drought o'thy blood,
'Til thy conjured mirth of blade, shalt milk th'bile of human mind,
See to none o'th'blessings,
For whoe'er so high shall fall, so fall, e'er once more.

So, adieu! Adieu! 'Til hither shall callst thy night'n th'gallows,
'Tis a hush, none spoke nor howl,
"Thus thou shall sleep no more."
Thy hath seen, so spoke,
"Thus thou shall sleep no more."

Details | Katrina Parkinson Poem

To the world

I just wanted the world to know that this was not me
And i am not her
It was never me so long as i know her
I am not the one to blame so seen as her vision centers upon me
And only me
So see this vision is not mine but in my stead the prophecy seen by her eyes
So long as the world can see she is not me and i am not her
They may believe she was only here to decieve
They shall believe that i was never to blame
They will see that we are not the same

9//2//25