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Best Poems Written by Randi Strandberg

Below are the all-time best Randi Strandberg poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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There Is Nothing More Beautiful

A Paris night,
There is nothing more
beautiful.
Late night walking
through small streets.
The metro, underground
is dark and mysteriously lovely.
Up into the nightlife
emerges spirit from
all.
Twinkling in spots all
around, the music
of the Parisians
sounds.
Like happiness wrapped
in a starry bow
but with wide awake yet
sleepy eyes.
It watches us slowly
wind down
into a café espresso and a
“Bonne matin, madamoiselle."

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Good Company

Feelings of nostalgia slide down my throat with the creamer.

Hot and burning,
but love reigns my taste buds.

Dry, mountain air and
long drives to short places.

Let’s have a chat,
Shall we?
Catch up and share our lives since we’ve grown up.

Disbelief is written in our eyes as we count life’s adventures.

Who knew we’d go from watching sunsets on the barn to staring at a starless sky through strange windshields?

Country music and dirt roads
run through my vessels,
stringing together the elapsed with the contemporary.

Change was inescapable,
but why escape the prosperity we’ve run into?

On the yellow line, I’ll lie with what’s ahead
and drink in life until I’m too full of experience to stand.

I’ll find my way home by the smell of the mountain rain, and once again we’ll revive in good company.

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Revel In My Ruins

virgin feet,
i stepped onto the quicksand
in ignorance of it’s
deceit.
as the clouds
overhead draw
together in the
grayest anger,
my heart hurts for relief.
i stand tall, but
that doesn’t change the
reality of this
disaster.
you were a tornado that
spun me for a loop;
so much destruction
in such a short time.
i can’t admit my defeat so
i’ll suffer in silence and
watch you walk away.
no matter if there’s nothing
left for me to rebuild
myself:
this is the end.

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The Inbetween

Everything chokes up,
But in a good way,

I think.

Being tickled by imaginary hands, but your words are all so real.

Maybe denial seems like the right word;
Am I ready to admit to this satisfaction?

The worse the idea, the more appealing it feels.

For you to reel me in,
Effortless,
My restraints are none.

I have no caution.

Throw me to the wind, with foolish delirium we’ll fly.

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Perplexity

my eyes are open,
they’re keeping score of the backlash
from this habit.

the tide of my captivation rolls in with the smoke,
yet lately not even the moon can pull it away.

hazy thoughts
keep me occupied.

let’s be straight-

stand up and speak your mind.

i turned those thoughts into
your entertainment,

is that bad? you tell me.

lay down awhile
leave your inhibitions by the side of the bed,
like slippers you can take them when you go.

it’s only a matter of time,

isn’t it?

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Daft Imitation

yearn for me.
sit in silence in contemplation.
waiting

to give into
the temptation.

the crave.

breathe it in deeply, harshly, wholly,
until you are it.

you are me.

there’s no turning back now,
it’s been too long,
the line has been crossed.

leave me, now
to let my hair down and
mourn;
the edges searing their patterns into my soul.

the smoldering of my
residue will
cease,

only wisps of memories that will fade, linger.

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Indistinct Sins

The dark of the night is my sanctuary.

Where sight lasts only right in front of me.

If I close my eyes, a smile forms on my lips and smoke curls out from underneath them.

The joint in my hand waits patiently to burn it’s light, while I hang my head out the window,
laughing, laughing.

Can you be here with me, during my good times? I’d like that.

The steering wheel is my anchor, keeping my body grounded while I lose my mind cross country.

There’s no place for butterflies when your tummy is too full of drugs, so fill me up and don’t apologize.
If I cry, it’s only in anticipation of the light that is to overtake us: nothing to be scared of.

I open my arms for you and wake up, staring at the road we’ve traveled, and the place we’ve not yet left.

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Musing

waking up at 3 am
to make a cup of coffee.
that’s my definition
of happy.
this smile is rolled onto
my lips by your
glowering gaze,
and the bitter
aftertaste of your
tongue.
that smoky film is
what resides between
us:
evidence of hazy
backgrounds to our choices.
all we need is a towel,
we’ll wipe away the
unwanted stipend
of emotions just within
reach;
they’re smeared in
all of our empty spaces.
now you’re on the tip
of my tongue, hiding
from me like we’re playing a
game, but
when I seek, I don’t
always find-
because you see,
the older we get,
the blurrier our
minds become to
the simplicity of
life.
lay back and close your eyes.
jump into sleep as the
early morning
fades into the
day
without our company.

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Lack

three hundred and sixty degrees
around me
is blank.
you are nowhere to be found,
therefore I
have nothing left
to surmise about
us.

reaching out
only slights my
equilibrium:
my view of everything else
is now distorted.

no glow shines from the
memories,

nothing else is left
to be lifted
from the disturbances I loved so much.

consistency wasn’t an option;
therefore discrepancy was bound.

let it go
let it be
let it drift away with the wind.

it’s over.

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The Things You Say To Me

the things you say to me.

they’re almost vulgar, yet they inspire me.
how do you make me feel?

you touched my chin
i didn’t know how to react.

smoke clouds and words
the best combination.
i can tell you’re a good person
by the way you notice me.

did you let your fingers linger on mine?
or am i just high

euphoria is what they call it

not falling, just treading smoke
keeping up
allowing my smile to unfold at

the things you say to me.