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Best Poems Written by Angela Durrell

Below are the all-time best Angela Durrell poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

The Devil Personified

If ever I put a face to Mephistopheles
It would be this man’s
Smooth beauty, inviting but aloof smile
Such velvety black skin
Over the bones of an exotic Prince
Cheek bones high, nose long and fine
Gleaming tilt tipped eyes
But it’s his lips.
His lips look like promised Heaven
But they whisper blinding sin
His voice is like a breeze
I’m so focused on feeling it
I don’t notice the hidden particles.
When he touches me
I forget to think
My wanting body takes over
My flesh is excited
And his trap is sprung!
Too late to stop it
Too late to run
Too late to realize
He’s the Devil personified.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

Losing You

The knock came at three am
The witching hour
I stumble to the door in your blue oxford and my barefeet
They stood there like a pair of grim reapers in State Trooper gray
Their words don't make any sense
Redlight.....drunk driver.....make an ID
I call your brother and he takes me downtown
He's sure it's you and I shouldn't look

Six thirty am and I hear screaming
It's me......It's just hit me.....You're not coming home.
I feel my heart still beating but how can this be?
If you're gone how can my chest still rise and fall, is this proof of life?
If they told the truth my life ended at a red light.

Eventually the screaming stops 
and I am rocked in the arms of my best friend
Her tears mixing with mine
I have to save them!
The power in them may be great enough to bring you back!

Two pm and light forces me to open my eyes
I touch your pillow...it's too cold
I remember the gray grim reapers, the cement floor with the drain and the tears I 
collected
I hold them tight because they have power
I sit up and wonder if insanity will always hurt this much.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

Romani Girl 1841

Skirts swirl around her like colors in a kaleidoscope
Her feet move like they always knew the steps
The disks on her ankles tink and chime against each other
The music of her moves is more intoxicating than the colors in her skirt
But her beauty, Oh! That is so much more
With skin like satin clover honey
Hair as rich as cured mahogany, with eyes dark as any abyss
All it takes is one lash filtered look to cut him to the quick
Lips ripe and pink whispering possibilities
Hot breath on his ear is his undoing
Arms long reaching into to soft palms that flex to slender fingers
Each light touch gives him just enough hope
She may leave this band, this warm beautiful caravan of family
And be a gadjo’s wife
He falls asleep each night with colors swirling
Music enchanting, and hope ever present
that her invigorating love will come to him.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

Survive You

My only hope was that I would survive you,

But now I don't know why.

Your body was my temple.

I felt useful on my knees and while I worshiped at your feet.

Now, I've lost my religion.

Could you ever know what that means?

To lose your life's blood, but your heart still beats.

Oh, If I could hurt you too

I wouldn't throw a sucker punch

I want you to see it coming

I want you to feel my fist before it connects

To spill your blood with my pale white hands

Could I absorb enough of you to bring the color back to me?

To have my body warmed by your spilled life

I have this empty shell of me and hollow is so hard to fill

What will I do to pass the years?

When life is gone and existence never ends

My only hope was that I would survive you

But now I don't know why.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

Flesh and Bone

He is a man built from flesh and bone
His body warmed by the one he rescued.
This man who claims me as his own
Towering over me like a shelter from the world
My hand tucked in his as he leads me through this life
If he had been like the rest he would have left me behind
This man who breaths life into me
Whose blood he’d sacrifice to spare mine,
Who seeks revenge for wrongs I’ve been dealt
 This man built from flesh and bone
Loves me and claims me as his own.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

A Walk Through the Closet

His blue coat with the gold buttons 
hangs in the closet with all of his other things
Belts hanging on their hooks, shoes lined up in order of color, 
his scent still lingers on every shirt.
I have so many memories....
the red polo shirt he wore to the beach
we had the time of our lives
and the old gray tennis shoes 
I begged him to throw them away
Levi's with a hole in the seat
a sweat shirt with mustard stained on the sleeve
Suits and ties, slacks and shorts
all of the things he wore holds a differnt memory
His dresser pushed against the far wall
all of his cuff links, his watch and tie clips,
the cologne that smells cool and clean
just the scent can bring him back 
I can feel his hands....
he touches my face and hold my hand
A walk through the closet
brings back all of our memoies
we laughed so much, cried very little and loved strongly
These things are everything to me
I walk through the closet when I need his comfort
I'll walk through the closet for the rest of my life.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

Watchin' You Die

Waken’ up alone
Bare feet hit the floor
Three a.m doors aint locked
Two windows wide open
The garage door is up 
And your car’s still here
I can smell it in the air,
That sick metallic smell.
No use lookin’ anymore
Your body’s here but your mind sure ain’t
How much do you love the smoke?
Can I compete?
The smell’s strong, you’re gettin’ close
Do I wait? Should I go back in?
Will it start a fight?
I wait and watch
You ain’t put it out yet
So I sit at your feet
Lookin’ up at you
Watchin’ you die.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

He Woke Me Up

Sound asleep when his screaming wakes me up.
“Why would you do this? No decency to tell me!”
Waking up I hear his words but still don’t know what they mean
“Your best friend? “Oh don’t be so jealous!” he throws my words back at me.
Hearing him, I understand.
Did he open my email? Did he go through my phone?
He stops his ranting, He looks sad and lost.
His shoulders drop and he breathes deep.
Sitting on the edge of our bed he looks me in the eyes.
Gently he puts his hands to either side of my head.
In a whisper he tells me “I could kill you, you know?”
Softly he touches his nose to mine.
He tilts his head until his lips brush mine.
“I want you out of my house for two o’clock.”
He gets up and walks out the door, dropping my phone as he goes.

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

Justin's Shoulder

Peering out from behind his shoulder

I watched the world unfold before us

He managed our life with ease and veracity

I was loved and protected; my value immeasurable

Peering out from behind his shoulder

I saw only the best of what life had to offer

I was not disappointed, jaded or mistreated.

He always told me when to turn my head.

Peering out from behind his shoulder

Gave me only a limited look at him

I could feel his strength and hear his voice

Never really seeing the toll it had taken on him.

Standing on tip toes, neck stretched upward

To peer at my life from behind his shoulder

Was comfortable and easy

I always had someone to lean on

Strong arms to cling to

And I always knew I was loved
 

Peering out from behind Justin's shoulder

Details | Angela Durrell Poem

Unraveling

I feel them unraveling me

With each question, each look, and each new fight

She screams "it's mine", he yells "I want it"

God, will they ever shut up?!

I can feel my grip slipping

My mind is closing in on me

The light is getting dimmer

How long before I'm gone?

The need to run overwhelms me

I wake up in a sweat and the fear pins me down

Those hazel eyes bore a hole in me.

Disdain? Contempt? Blame, that's for sure.

How do you smooth that over?

She can't be bought, she's not like me.

Words of praise fall deaf on her ears.

She isn't proud like her daddy.

Jaysa is all that was good about us.

Little warm hands get my attention, sort of.

Alex asks to go outside.

"No, not today", and his blue eyes cry.

He expects too much from me.

I can't give anything to anyone.

I have lost my passion, my desire to love.

How empty is our lives!

We get home too late.

The quiet has set in, don't make a noise.

"Eat your dinner, then go to sleep."

My grip is loose at best.

I don't know if I want it back.

How far is the fall?

Will it be cold?

So, I'm not ready to let go yet,

But I hate the hanging