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Best Poems Written by Kyle Maples

Below are the all-time best Kyle Maples poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Chirps

Songbirds loose small chirps,
Tiny enough to slip through
Momentary rain.

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Grandmother

Drift into the depths.
Submerged you are beyond sight,
But you are still here.

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Leashed

At sunset on the gray suburban street,
The only sounds are sounds of scraping feet.
My dog and I tread slowly on the black
Asphalt. I feel something is pulling back
The leash; my dog has found a treasure trove:
A mailbox, where the people come and go.
Though she would like to stay and smell all night,
I pull her back and walk with all my might. 
But, as I think of all that I must do,
The early spring wind pulls me back into
My jacket, where I rather would not hide
When in nature's beauty I could preside. 

Though in the darkness it was hard to tell,
I realize, now, that I am leashed as well.

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Fair

I went timid to the street fair last night
And hoped intensely for an adventure,
A destiny. But destiny is not
A right, but a privilege with a flat rate;
I found my fate too costly. I doubted, then,
Whether my choice was right, but deemed it so, 
For, as I left, the pulsing sky met me
With thunderous applause. Or, maybe, it
Was waving, pleading, shouting out a low,
Desperate warning, begging I return.

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Why Do We Delve In School All Day and Night

Why do we delve in school all day and night?
Sunrise and set, both see egos engrossed
In education used by us to boast
And overtake, regardless of how slight.
Our Grade Point Average must define our worth!
Exams, essays, homework; praise them wholly!
Our university’s prestige decrees
Whether or not we each deserve our birth.
A battle fought with cap guns, noisy toys;
The animals, stuffed full with bulging fluff
Dress up, our feet are touched by dad’s shirt cuffs;
These games are played by infant girls and boys.
How easily high intellect astounds
The geniuses with brains of Play Dough mounds!

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In My Hometown

In my hometown, there lies a street,
A buzzing, busy city street,
Where cars speed forward in roaring fleets
Toward places to be and people to meet.

And on this street lies a bouquet,
A busty, bountiful bouquet. 
Next to the cracking curb, it lays
And braves the the traffic of midday.

And the bouquet has leaves of red,
A lustful, lively, bloody red.
It's sad such life will soon be dead,
Crushed by our killer tire treads.

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Makeup

The girl wears makeup
In light, the sparkles shimmer
Like tears in her eyes

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The Bird

I opened my eyes.
They feel upon a bird and
The prettiest song.

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Piano

A piano sits
While amateur musicians
Passively compete

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That Morning On the Beach

That morning on the beach, where did we go?
That June, before the current swept away
That thin island between the sea and bay,
Where did we walk, the risen sun still low?

Before the current swept away the land
And me along with it, where did we stride?
Next to the sea, the waxing, waning tide
Whose rhythmic jaws consumed the footprint sand?

No,

We went nowhere that morning on the sand. 
I stood and let the icy waves beat me
And hoped that they would pull me out to sea,
Far from this disappearing island. 

Back then, I thought the sea would set me free,
But all it did was make a memory.