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Best Poems Written by Michelle Marek

Below are the all-time best Michelle Marek poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

Hidden Secrets

Twinkling little
balls of gases in
the sky.
             
Millions upon
millions as I look
up. How in the world
did you get there? 
                   
        Making me
feel as if I am lost
in your world. So 
 dark and majestic
but your little
lights fascinating
me every second when
there is           
                   
           
darkness. 
                   
 Oh wait but there
are these figures
hidden between you.
                   
  Only some certain
eyes can see your
hidden secrets. 
                   
          Stare at
your wonderful
patterns forever. 
                 
Why are you
disappearing when it
begins to lighten? 
                   
   One by one your
beautiful patterns
begin to fade.
                   
                   
          Don't go
now.
                   
   Soon enough light
has fully taken
over.
                   
        Your
patterns are now
gone. 
   As darkness comes
again you soon start
to reveal yourself
one by one again
each and every time
being even more
fascinating.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

I Am

I am the weather constantly changing day by day.
I am the light that fades before darkness takes over.
I am the cheetah protecting its young.
I am the rain pounding against the window.

My hair is silk brushing across your hand.
My eyes are baby blue crystals bearing down on people.
My hair is golden light that reflects off the green grass.
I am the blinding white snow as the sun shines bright.

I am a bird’s song echoing in the daylight.
I am the wind blowing past your face.
I am the unstoppable river that moves and moves, day by day, and season by season.
I am a book worm inching, reading page by page as hours go by.

I am a splash of color to everyone’s joy.
I am the ground beneath your feet.
I may speak words of hate but my friendship will never destroy.
I may make mistakes but I am the one you keep.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

Mother's Day

In times of past I have spoken words of regret.
You've learned to forgive me and not take it as a threat.

These last few years have been a roller coaster ride waiting to become a straight line 
again.
We are the arms at the bottom waiting to catch you.

You may be miles apart but our love will never depart.
From my head to my toes you will never let me go.
From times I needed you so.
You have been there at the most.

This is your day not mine to celebrate what has made you who you are as I make this 
world mine as years go by.
I am happy to call you mom and to say thanks for being strong through some tough 
moments that I have been apart of.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

Beyond the Light

Speak of the mind of
the truth inside but
the truth is never
revealed.
                 As
the time soars
through the sky but
time is never seen.
             As the
rays from the sun
come baring down
lighting the world
beneath our feet.
              As
light guides us
through the path we
meet face to face.
               As we
approach the days we
live the light
guides each and
every one.
             
                   
              Slowly
every day must come
to end.
                   
  With the light
meeting the west and
darkness meeting
east.
                   
              As
darkness guides the
path we walk.
  Your very last
light of day kisses
my cheek before
fading to dark and
coming the next day.
                   
               Where
we see face to face
once more.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

Autumn

A leaf breaks away
from the tree.
Swaying back and
forth until softly
hitting the ground.
Trees in front yards
and backyards with
vibrant colors of
yellows, oranges,
and reds filling the
neighbor hood around
us.
Watching many upon
many leafs being
blown past houses
until layering the
ground with splashes
of colors.
Yard after yard
filled with leafs.
Slowly tree by tree
start to become
bare.
The sounds of rakes
scratching against
the pavement
gathering every last
bit of color into a
pile.
Hearing the
crunching of the
leafs as they are
being gathered.
Watching people jump
into the piles and
watching the leaves
fly up and slowly
come to a halt. 
Trees are bare now.
Slowly the colors
are disappearing.
Bags begin to show
at the ends of drive
ways.
Until there is
nothing left.
Knowing deja vú will
be back again.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

Candle

Flick,
flick of lighters
and matches lighting
one by one releasing
scents of joy into
the  rooms. 
Every little ball of
light dances as each
and every gust of
wind sneaks past
through every object
it touches.
         The gust of
cinnamon follows
closely behind every
gust of air flowing
past it. 
      Hot liquid
flowing and
swiveling back and
forth until it hits
the bottom.
   Slowly by the
hour the hard
scented object
begins to shrink
after every drop of
liquid one by one
flows slowly to the
bottom. 
               
Finally there must
come an end to
everything.
              As the
final drops of
liquid makes its way
to the bottom. 
    The glowing ball
of fire dims and the
last few whiffs of
cinnamon sneak past
my nose and into mid
air until next time
I must say good bye
to the joyful
scents.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

Flame Path

watching the flame dance all around. 
                                                Go left go right they never stop.
 Just as you are watching them they hypnotize the life out of you and absorb it through 
their flame path causing you to become very sleepy.
             The power of warmth pulling you closer pushing the bitter cold away. 
                 The light of the flame path vanishing any darkness around it.
               Pop and crackle pieces of hot embers begin to fly all around.
           One swings past my face as I quickly dodge the red hot ember.
                                 These dancing flames begin to fade. 
                  No more energy to add to the warming pit of fire.
                   Darkness takes over the light of the dancing flames.
                     Nothing is left now but glowing red hot embers. 
The bitter cold begins to return. Second by second the flame path is nothing but another 
memory.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

Beyond the Storm Path

The pulsing sound beating off the ground fills the air with mist.
            Leaving vibrant little drops glistening in my hair. 
      Screaming louder and louder, seconds later, weakening to a dim.
      The gust of air becomes more powerful and begins to turn you to an angle.
    Your sound begins to roar once again, adding booms and flashes of something more.
              I seek light. I seek darkness. Then followed by the sounds of war. 
          The sounds get louder and softer after every strike of light.
                       Your sound begins to fade. 
             Your pulsing, your flashing, and your war zone all fades to nothing.
  Light begins to whisper through the darkness, becoming more and more obvious through 
every wakening moment.
       Now all that is seen is a shinning ball of gold glistening through out the day.

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

The Pumkin Shows

The knives, the
designs in the
process, and the
seeds to enjoy
later.
Soon the designs are
finished.
Orange pumpkins fill
the streets with
designs of all over.
The creativity shows
through each and
every object that
fills the porch.
Soon night comes
quickly on
Halloween.
The glowing designs
show more and more
as the night
continues.
From house to house
you begin to notice
the designs that
shine through each
and every pumpkin. 
The night is
starting to end.
The glowing objects
are starting to
vanish.
One by one the light
is blown out.
As the lights vanish
I begin to think
they will be back
next year.
The designs will get
even better than
before.


By:Michelle Marek
10/25/13

Details | Michelle Marek Poem

The Feelings of One Person

I am tired of living behind this invisible glass just waiting to be let out from behind.
          I feel like just another lurking shadow in the light just waiting to be seen.
 The words are piercing my throat ready to be spoken but nothing comes out as if they are 
being pulled back in.
                     What do I mean to this place I call learning?
                     I want to be known for who I am, not for what I am.
                     I don’t like being messed with as if I am a fish’s bait. 
                        The anger deceives me as if this is a game. 
The sadness and sorrow is scratching away at the inside of me wanting to be released as if 
it was a river wanting to flow but an object is holding it back from doing so. 
              I feel so alone in this crowded room but am I really? 
                        Is this reality or just a horrible nightmare?