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Best Poems Written by Mark W.

Below are the all-time best Mark W. poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Reflections of the Past, Visions of the Future

Tying the knot,
I thought sowed my soul.
Making me a better man,
But I discovered the lack.

Learning how to respect one another.
Loving another at the cost of loving myself.
Unrequited pain, a new form of loneliness.
The body exposing it through night terrors.

Ending with a big bang.
I rebirthed being alone.
In darkness He did his magic.
Cementing my non-negotiables.

Yet again I stand with another.
Uncomfortable comfortable.
Both of us with a checkered past.
Trepidation with hands on the wheel.

Wiser with a touch of grayscale.
A new kind of love we embark.
Both of us have probed for faults.
Scared of what seems perfection.

I stand with her having shaking hands.
And a fearful smile from my past.
I look over to see her response.
For once trepidation turns to tranquil.

She reads me like a book.
Caring where no one has before.
Nurturing my every wince.
The chips are landing perfectly.

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Memento on the Moon

Memento on the moon, our existence based on what we cannot see.
Subjective logic we measure by mere senses within our body
A penny lay I law on moon’s largest crater saying, ‘In God We Trust’
Nay a picture of God found on this coin, rather a man once worshipped
Proving our everlasting toil of higher power on earth versus universe
Never fully finding the rubric of justice but trusting a flawed process
Living breathing proof of our détente of existentialism wresting fate
Fighting chaos, embracing a land of laws to control the new
Both beautiful and horrid contradictions whimsically stuck in a dance
Desire to progress but strangled with fear we marched on
Seeking knowledge while carrying the boat anchor of tradition
We made it just far enough to learn how small we actually grew

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Dream Management

I dream of reliving my heart’s past fall.
To marry again and bear the long haul.

I long to long.
To sing that song.

One day I will lock in the courage.
One day photos will find the fridge.

For now I must simply yield to stall.
Readying my boat before the waterfall.

I dry-run this until my skin peels off.
I pray I will be ready for takeoff.

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Rise of little brother

When big brother becomes too big
So large it has to put on a larger wig
When the inner cloister is as big as the outer
And detecting dissension becomes too easy to stir
That is when its helm begins to self-sabotage
The appeal of change is no longer a mirage
Its sheer weight disables its ability to pivot 
Like Rome’s fall, emerges ignitable toxic glut
The regime self-implodes with the slightest match

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The Jewel Of Jesus

How can the lover of the downtrodden have a favorite?
The dichotomy of Jesus’ choosing is like an enigmatic wavelet.
To become a jewel of Christ takes more than a confession.
One must let go of the earth to reach His heaven.
One must gain faith which requires humility of highest order.
His jewels are unafraid of life’s inevitable disorder.
And to believe that gain can come from complete loss.
Willing to tear down one’s own house and bear the cross.
Jesus’ jewels will give their last fish to another undeserving.
To fully commit to the unseen and to forgo self-serving.
Often being a downtrodden you have the edge.
Due to having little to lose when on the ledge.
Jesus often searches for His best Jewels in the dark.
Like Paul, who in the dark made his profoundest mark.

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The Wall

I drive past the building that used to be Kmart
The side wall I once met with my car making a dart
I was 17 and at the lowest part of my life
On medication that sadly furthered my strife
I survived that wall over 20 years ago
Never again letting myself ever go that low
That wall is a terrifying reminder of mortality
And a source of gratitude with highest gravity
Just like one day my life will pass
So too will that wall turn to grass
Until we meet again mister wall
I stand tall loving the long haul

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The Curious Coif

Enigmatically stubborn to style, the coif
Some days it can be easily pulled off
Other days it requires an exorcism
Like Zoolander it can look like ‘Magnum’

Hides my receding hairline like a charm
Sophistication to my head’s yardarm
Its antidote is a very windy day
Requiring heavy doses of hairspray

When it works my lady wants to stroke it
I recoil in fear, making her remit
For a single finger can ruin it
It’s a fickle angel to babysit

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Here we go again

Here we go again
Back to chaos’ den
Emotions stretched abound
Spirits are being drowned

Yet another test
Stressed no rest
Pressing my vest
Nest of pests

Nowhere to hide
Noone to bride
Embrace the tide
Time to ride

Living is ripping
Praying for blessing
Singing while stinging
Bathing in beating

We’ve been here before
Scars from past gore
Roaring while being sore
Crying for no more

Get used to the downpour 
We must make it to shore
Grit my teeth I must
The process I trust

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The Joys of My Life

              I once thought I was a renaissance man
               Who needed sophistication in my plan.
              Joy seemed to reside on the highest bar
         One day I unexpectedly tooted and felt pure delight
        And I realized joy is free and right there in plain sight.

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Tailwinds

Life’s walls remain as high as the clouds
 Covered by shrouds of thunderclouds
   Looking up I awe in vast wonder
    Mental impasse envelopes by the hour
     Hour after hour
      I grow more dour
       I knit a suit of doubt
        I only see myself with rout
         Still on the battlefield
          Inside I aimlessly yield
           A crack appears 
            The wall has fears
             A fraction of a win
              I sneak a grin 
               I smack at the crack
                I laugh as I thwack
                 Time is my weapon
                  Grit is my gun
                   The hole widens
                     The bleakness weakens
                      The wall can time-worn
                       And I can become reborn
                        Time is my tailwind