Home » Poems » Best » Lola Martone » Best Lola Martone Poems

Best Poems Written by Lola Martone

Below are the all-time best Lola Martone poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Lola Martone Poem

that kind of love

I want the kind of love that young children can't stand
the kind that remind old people of their young loves
the kind where we spend hours on the phone talking about nothing.
the kind built on trust and security,
the kind where we really just enjoy each other's company.
the kind that they write novels about.
the kind that are in those fairy tales that we were told not to believe.
we would defy all these statistics that adults like to throw around.
the kind that goes from high school sweethearts to an old bickering married couple.
the kind that has slow dancing in the kitchen and photo albums upon photo albums.
the kind where our families get along,
the kind with family reunions and weekly dinners.
the kind of love where no one wonders if we will divorce in a year.
the kind of love that lets us just hold each other all night.
the kind with loving bickering and food fights.
the kind where we both cry on our wedding day and we fall in love all over again every morning when we meet each others eyes.
the kind where we both planned an anniversary surprise and end up surprising each other.
I want the kind of love where we are just so in love it is sickening.
the kind people would kill for and the kind we would sacrifice the world for.

Details | Lola Martone Poem

Forever a fight

In an endless loop of arguments
A game that neither of us ever win
A house built on a sandy foundation
Loose lies must come out in the end.
Knuckles and bloody knuckles
Tears in muddy puddles
Smiling to our friends and showing each other our teeth
I am sick of the battles.
The war the we won’t ever win
Land that we still have to conquer
But to conquer you must kill
It seems easy enough.
Just stay off of each others land.
Turn your noses to the secrets,
And keep the peace
Well peace is a trojan horse
A horse made of wood.
Well wood is flammable.
And the truth will spell out in the smoke.
It is never that easy to just pretend that nothing is wrong.
Guilt is a dangerous game
And you will never let me in
Deflecting our points
Pretending to kill
An endless battle in the war that neither of us will win.
A wheel with a broken pedal.
We know where to go but won’t
Because all that is left for us,
Is to wave and let the white flag win
Maybe escape is all that is left.
The only chance that either of us can survive.
Your favorite escape.
To hide from the inevitable win.
When the reaper knocks on our door,
We know what we have to do.
Bid our goodbyes,
And hope to see each other in the afterlife.
I try to say goodbye but your silence is deafening.
It carves into my mind.
Blood seeps into my brain.
I am out.

Details | Lola Martone Poem

Blue-the hue of sadness

Blue, the color of the ocean, mirrors the tears that streamed down my face when you said goodbye. It's the hue of the lies I told, 
the hidden pain that the world never saw, 
the ache in my heart when you expressed hatred—a sentiment I feared was true. 
Two years have passed, 
yet I'm trapped in a cycle of remembrance and regret, 
unable to escape the shadow of our past.

The details of our shared life—your number, your address, 
the places we cried—are etched in my memory. 
We could have avoided this heartache with the truth, 
but I was too immature to realize what we could have been. 
Your face haunts my dreams,
 your voice still echoes, and I'm left questioning why we lied, 
why I claimed to hate you. 
I gave you love, 
but it wasn't reciprocated, and that's fine. 
Yet, I'm burdened with the question: 
why didn't I just tell the truth?

I penned a final letter, 
a farewell, believing it would be the end. 
But I can't call you, even though I remember your number, 
because you've moved on. 
It seems I'm alone in this lingering pain,
 seeking closure I'll never find. 
So, I'll try to move on,
 to pretend, 
to forget this poem 
I never wrote. 
People may think me mad for clinging to this juvenile love, 
but despite the hatred that now mingles with my affection, 
I can't help it—I still love you.

Details | Lola Martone Poem

academic validation

Algebra makes me feel stupid.
Equations and inequalities,
algebra makes me feel stupid.
I could have an A in the grade book, but that doesn't mean that I understand. 
lost in class, barely turned that in on time.
Algebra makes me feel stupid.
So I drift into my own world.
But at least in my world, I'm not alone. 
Algebra makes me feel stupid,
it's not my teacher's fault, but my own.
The problem is, I run on academic validation, more so than food or water,
so I sink.
pretend- and make them think
make them think I know what I am doing,
but I am on the brink.
the brink of failure.
Algebra makes me feel stupid.
once gifted, now barely scraping by.
once impressive
what makes me impressive?
certainly not my ability to solve complex algebraic expressions. 
is it my ability to fake it?
to only raise my hand when I know the answer?
Is it too late?
is it too late to know the answers?
too late to say I don't understand and ask questions?
Algebra makes me feel stupid. 
once excelling in school, now regular.

Details | Lola Martone Poem

Lose my head

Down on my knees seems like the only place that you want me to be-
because when I get up close,  you can't seem to breathe-
up in your face, your voice laced with distaste-
luck a bug under your shoe-
or a tie in your lace-
When I open my mouth you distract it-
keep me focused on only what you like-
if I wonder to close
I might lose my head.
Cheater in my bed
I am losing my-
keep me on the  ground
but the clouds seem so nice-
tell me it's not true
not him. not you.
give me a reason to  stay
or I have to go,
Don't expect me to stay if you want me on my knees.
I need you to be able to breathe,
To let the lies flow out like the tears on my cheeks
I can’t stand the sound of distaste,
The sound of you begging me to stay.
Squash those doubts that you know very well are justified.
Unravel every part of me that still trusts you.
Shut my mouth, but this time you use tape.
Close my eyes, then make me blind.
My neck in a guillotine
Oblivious, just the way you like me.
Face on gravel
Now I know what you have done.
Soul in the clouds,
No way back down.
No way back-
No way out.
Tell me it’s not true.
Tell me that's not my body 3 feet away.
Tell me that it wasn’t you.
My ignorance, it was bliss but now I can’t feel below my neck.
Wait-
Not my neck-

Details | Lola Martone Poem

you people

“Blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb”
something that I will tell my future daughter
family is good
but friends choose you
your family has to stick around
your friends choose to
when everything goes to hell,
your friends are the ones who cope with losing you
when all else fails,
your friends are the ones who stood by you
your family might be one in the same blood
but your friends know your stories,
your friends know your soul,
they are the ones who will never go.

Details | Lola Martone Poem

can't act

the first crush after a breakup is hard. 
I keep seeing images of you in him and I'm scared my past is repeating.
I probably won't act on it. 
It is nice to be out of my pit though.
my pit of loneliness,
because now I have a reason to wake up.
I have a reason to put on something nice and do my makeup.
I have a reason to talk to people instead of hiding away.
I have a reason to go outside.
I don't have to lie about being over you.
I don't have to lie about being okay.
I am scared it will happen all over again though.
I am scared he is like you.
the man who broke me.
the man who left me on the curb colored blue.
the man who scared me and made me believe that I am unlovable.
so I won't act on it.
I won't tell him about the butterflies or the fact that he is always on my mind.
I won't tell him that I can tell he is struggling.
I won't tell him that I have been watching and waiting,
hoping for the chance to talk to him without being annoying.
I won't act on it.

Details | Lola Martone Poem

Out of my mind

you make me crazy.
you make me look at my phone 18 times in 5 minutes to see if you responded to my 263 tiktoks I sent
Those same videos convey a secret message
One that I pray that you can not decipher 
you make me crazy in the sense that you make me throw my phone when you take 10 minutes to respond to my flirtation attempt.
Flirting isn’t really something I do but you make me want to give it a shot
How is it you that made me someone that I can't even recognize 
Not even a year ago, I was saying “once a cheater, always a cheater” 
Now I am calling you misunderstood.
Why did I think that I would be different? 
different than all of those much prettier girls,
Girls who always know what to say
Why did I think that you would like me
When you wouldn’t make it official.
you say you don't like labels, and then you call me yours.
You make me crazy.
My head isn’t even speaking in logic anymore
He is just a guy!
Why do I let him make me cry?
You just won’t put your money where your mouth is

Details | Lola Martone Poem

regret your vote

do you feel regret?
regret for your vote?
Do you feel remorse?
realizing you're a minority too?
we stole this land, now the original inhibitors are in camps.
this country is built on the blood soaked ground of natives,
and was created on the backs of immigrants,
but suddenly you decide that they are the problem.
the kids are dying
guns are in schools and going to the hospital bankrupts people.
we've got a felon in the office and people dying on the streets.
eggs are $6 a dozen and people can't afford to eat.
Big pharma is getting richer while diabetic people die every week because they can't afford insulin. 
are you just now realizing what him as president really means? 
our military might be strong but our people are feeling weak
ICE is in schools but pedophiles and rapists walk free,
Billionaires get richer but life gets harder for you and me.

Details | Lola Martone Poem

my mama

my mama is not the women who made me'
my mama is the women who raised me
the one who taught me kindness, and patience
the one who taught me boundaries
and late night movies,
drinking coffee at 6 in the morning
on my way to a tournament
the one who always came to support me
the one who I replied on
the one I call mom
she may not have literally made me,
but  I like to think that she is the one who made me, me