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Best Poems Written by Erin Nash

Below are the all-time best Erin Nash poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Erin Nash Poem

The Old Wood

He said cover me with poems
when I'm in the old wood
paint your eyes of sapphire 
and run free you should.

I am the small dreams in your memory
the waterfall in your tears
the beat in your heart
the life of your art.

He said I am the papercut
that bleeds a quick pain
I am the door not shut
I am a lingering sugar cane.

I am the ash of beauty
the reality of nothing
the instruments in sing
the streep of a sting. 

Yes, cover him with poems 
when he's in the old wood 
paint his eyes of sapphire
and run free he should.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

The Moon Keeper

I sleep with the sun blaring in the night sky. Nomad has taken my moon on his venture. He plays the role in my dreams and fiddles in my day mares.
his conscience is buried in a place beyond life.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

The Plastic Vow

Waking up next to you is not what I had in mind
I know your inlove
but I wish we could rewind.
A vow was made
obligation overplayed 
why did I proceed
because in marriage I don't believe.
white satin, decadent cake
100 guests watched by the lake.
I tried my best to put on a smile
with the groom not realizing he was in denial.
This special day is such a waste
because when years go by it'll be replaced.
I didn't want to hurt anyone
I wasn't looking out for me
I hoped i'd eventually fall for you
and build our family tree.
I care for you but I have to walk away
because I know in the end
it would be me who would betray.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

The Creator

He lit a match to the sun
and it filled with yellow fire
he dropped a tear on a landscape
the colour was sapphire.

He drew a circle in the night sky
in a backround of sparkling dots
he put a colour in each eye
and gave angels, wings to fly.

He gave a beat to each heart
gave us light to turn off the dark
built a canvas for our paint
carved statues of saints.

He gave a noise to each sound
a tune to each note
concrete to every ground
a mind to each vote.

He shaped mountains for us to climb
he greened a crisp valley
Put ears to a grapevine
and a count to each talley.

He flew a kite to each wind
a sail to every wave
sunsets to be dimmed
and gave courage to the brave.

He composed a song for each bird
an enchant to every forest
letters for each word
the sun, rain and mist.

He coloured flesh to each skin
an expression to each face
time to each clock
and a tick to each tock.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

Empty Avenues

Through vacant atmospheres
the landscapes of seagull town,
and the ears that hear the silent outcries,
lies the riddles that gallop unpredictable songs
that rises hues of pallad sunsets.
I'd leave you alone with your thoughts,
thoughts of empty avenues
and speeches of people so few.
Watching the running rainbow
beginning the curtains close
blowing every dandelion
sketching the statues pose.
The wild flowers have withered
and my tears can't breathe.
Cant entice the hearts of stone
finding my words without a tone.
Blunt thorns consume minds
plain puzzle pieces aren't hard to find.
Dry raindrops trickle down my arm
parchments of apathy hosting arid harm
paper illusions flying low
we all dance bashfuly solo.
As I capture the lights
on wet road nights
I wish you'd follow me
up to brighter days
away from this maize

Details | Erin Nash Poem

Senses

I hear the distant tree bell
swaying the sound of the leaves...
I hear the rusking of beach shells
whilst the sand wears the waves on its sleeve.

I felt the wind whisking through my hair
trickling through to my arms..
I felt the blossoms falling on my head
feeling the petals soft charm.

I smelt the seasons rain
drizzlng to the ground
I smelt the jasmines blossoming
whilst the scent lingers round and round.

I tasted the humidity
hot and dry
then i tasted the nights chill
cold and rye.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

Henry

Henry,

Clear skied sunny day but everything is still grey
Grey as gloom, grey as the thought of placing roses on your grave
Grey as the rainfall that awaits us, grey as your father’s tears.
The sun won’t set and the moon won’t rise. There is nothing I am empty inside.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

Homeward Bound

Behind the lines of his cracked face
lies a journey of a struggle
his days of juggling copper
and sleepless nights on concrete floors.

His skin rains
under the orange noon
and as the crowds pass by
his eyes sing a wasted song.

The tattered material
the stench of his body
the turmoil of his emptiness
and the remaining days that follow.

He drowns his sorrows 
in an immaculate sea
as he floats nearby the crystal sand
with his catatonic expression.

The dark butterfly has flown away
and the crowds pass by without notice
they can finally smell the lotus air
since the beautiful stench has gone.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

Rebound

11 January 2015.

Its 2am. I left mascara stains on his favourite shirt.

Details | Erin Nash Poem

No Title

"Was your first time with someone you Loved"?


"Unfortunately"