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Best Poems Written by Tatyana Carney

Below are the all-time best Tatyana Carney poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Tatyana Carney Poem

Soul Stones

We swallow boulders:
(lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken)

Mouths open wide and heads tipped back
like Hawaiian fire eaters.

Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history,
sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect
and acid.

The stones settle,

BOOM...

      BOOM...

            BOOM...

Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight
'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk.

We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that
we've had rocks for breakfast,
lunch, dinner,  for years,
in the hopes that someone will recognize
the broken concrete footprints behind us
and touch us gently on the forearm:

"Honey, are you alright?"

(and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble
the already cracking facade?)

There's no stopping the torrent then,
tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing
to the point of cathartic vomit-

boulders of every shape and size
tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room;
broken teeth and granite eyes 
until we no longer see the floor, the walls...

And then serenity.

The hand has moved to the shoulder,
forming a universal hug.

"I'm here now... and you're ok."

We stand up, together, and leave that room,
a soundless void of yesterday,
to absorb the impermeability of stones,
carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity.

No weight at all now, and barely a second glance,

but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...

Details | Tatyana Carney Poem

Brush Stroke To Uniqueness

If my mind be painted in colors borrowed, would it be red? 
Rusted in brown, or maybe instead, an indigo streak?
Depending upon the source of inspiration, 
and the song on the radio at the time of connection...
I keep coming back to sea green, 
or the blue of underwater murals at 3ft tall of childhood,
eyes wide in fickle, transient hazel
absorbing each moment, be it safe or unstable
categorizing each scent and each color
each love and each valor
each crisp Autumn, Summer
in vats of brain paint to be later unlidded
and splashed with insignias
of every person and place and event
that ever touched corneas innocent, bent
on absorption.
If my mind be painted, I think it be green
like the moment I'm lucid before I dip dreams
and hang them to dry in the gallery
"Mind's Eye"
and push to wake up to connect, signify
every sensory path that I've traveled before
to traipse them again and still come back for more.
I'm a stickler for art and with your canvas blank
my sweet innocent dear, with each word that you hear
you will brush stroke your way to uniqueness.

Details | Tatyana Carney Poem

Self Control

Tonight, we saw the split second
the rush before dying, the twist of good metal
the swerve of the drunkard in a flash of white light
We braced only precious things, my 3 year old daughter
and our own frail adrenaline bodies held tight
Tonight, this man chose
to pour his soul out with liquor to the brim
I'll never know if pain or laughter forced his hand
I'll never know if he saw my daughter crying
with eyes of fear unknown by the young
Tonight, I held back the winds
the rage through my blood, the taste of vengeance
The twisted car was given a name by it's maker
We, by our parents - my daughter, by us.
Tonight, we still breathe, and, thanks to self-control,
so does he.

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Faith

A ring of truth, a silver star, 
so set me adrift and I won't get far, 
but tether my soul to astounding faith 
and all that is left is my rippled wake...

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Love Along the Way...

Don't bruise the flaxen reed
Don't wind the strings too tight
on instruments of hearts and wishes
burning, burning bright...

Call the night, the night.
Call the day, the day ~
as we continue the fight of our lives
we love along the way...

Details | Tatyana Carney Poem

Quiet - I'M Weeping.

Arrow's echo

bouncing off birch trees

capturing sound in it's wind:

blue birds at the screaming peak of hunger,

rustling of ants with the last haul of insects before winter
down deep into quiet tunnels of perfectly rolled soil and sand,

the singular first drop of rain on a crackling red leaf 
still holding it's breath 'till it turns brown,

four hawks in a circular flight
bleeding the wind in wings

and me, lost in autumn

shot from your bow

last year.

Details | Tatyana Carney Poem

We, the Imperfect People...

We don't expect something from nothing 
but always keep hope lightly lit
We want what we know won't be quite good for us
and force situations which never will fit
We speak when we should hold our tongues by the throat
and let silence bounce off the air
We verbalize nothing and yet all at once
we scream that the world is unfair
We hold all the cards to our life in one hand
and grab with the other at dreams
We grow up imperfect and tragic and bent
and about to burst out at the seams
And yet in this comedy of errors
we still pin dark dignity down and demand
that we're made in the image of One who is mighty
and not a mere mortal, a man
We yearn for a taste of perfection
and search with an uncommon zeal
We reach out for moments which polish our bones
and convince us our future is real...

Details | Tatyana Carney Poem

Simplicity's Gifts

Cockle shell candles and firefly lights
padding the path to the woods
Grass crunched and scattered in weeds and in patterns
of the way every garden should look
Cobblestone herb baths and sleepy old stars
shooting the breeze in the dark
Waiting for someone to wish and discover
the cobblestone path in their heart
Night time is patient and fragile and ancient
with secrets just bursting to share
Turn up the jasmine and glow in the shadows
with eyes open wide to the moon
Luxuries lunar light swinging old stars
parading their final hurrah
Flittering fireflies brush up on moves as they
follow the trails of the heart
Pumpkin shaped lanterns delight the warm eye
orange and gold muted voice
Hanging from tree limbs bent down to oblige
and also to be understood
Fly on with sonar and pipe cleaner wings
soaring above all the lights
Lit up like secrets, hovering, weaving
simplicity's gifts of the night...

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Rain

Suddenly, my shoulders shine
with blessed liquid, sweet, divine
Mouth unhinged to quell the tongue
with, oh... just a kiss, just a drop
These days we had when we were young
Running mad through hot cloud tears
soaked and chilled and giggling while
we scoffed at future, mid-aged years
We'd hurry obtuse with dress and heels
calloused veneer from latent appeals
to strip off the clothes, to don on the suit
The sky opens up and dissolves this pursuit...

Details | Tatyana Carney Poem

Violinist Composition

I hear the straw hum
stretched chords groan and snag my heart
leaving me composed.