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Best Poems Written by Stephanie Kjaerbaek

Below are the all-time best Stephanie Kjaerbaek poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

Beggars and Thieves

Maybe I feel sorry for;
The  amongst us thieves;
The ones who give to us;
But don't ever receive.

Maybe beggars can't be choosers;
Like lovers amongst the abusers;
That's a game I refuse to play:
Before they roll the dice, they make you pay.

You call us versions of Robin Hood;
Just like I felt you would.
Maybe you're just one of the outlaws:
Fate tied to a string of lies.

You unravel at the revelation of flaws;
Only your internal demons remember;
How your body loves to dismember;
The spirit lodged somewhere within.

Now lost to the top that spins;
Make a promise to fate;
Hoping that your intentions will relate;
Why do you take a chance on nothing?

Weren't you were promised something?
I really don't have the answer.
I've been begging the question;
Using my life as a form of detention.

From the dawn of the phoenix;
To the dust to dust amongst the ashes;
After another one of our car crashes;
Still the flames rise up and swallow us.

All the leaders make us follow;
And I don't know of a reason why;
We get back up again and try;
I don't know why you don't make me cry.

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

Wars

When she walks around this Rocky Mountain downtown;
With a pretty-in-pink style Mohawk;
She doesn't look like an eighties version of a bad hangover.
While she obviously indulges in ballet classes,
As well as the occasional psychedelic drug that circulates in her system.

These days the drug users prefer rubbing alcohol mixed with ammonia.
"Nail polish remover, anyone? Champagne with a hint of methanol?"
 Welcome to our party!"
 That's their raison d'etre.
 Which of these should really be the love that dare not speak its name,
 Instead of Morrissey's version of a fatal goodbye kiss man-to-man?

I feel like calling out to her:
"Nice leg warmers!  They complement your ballet flats beautifully!"
I have a feeling that she wouldn't strike me.
Though I would get a dose of that lovable, yet snarly, punk attitude:
At least in this town, yuppies in suits haven't tried to take over.

The delivery of a punch won't feel as bruised;
As a heavily insulted heart that burdens the walk;
With an extensive, intricate system of weights.
This electrocution-in-the-making shortcuts the system;
That holds us up to the premise that we are victims.

Not exactly in the nicest way:
When image has become the definition of an inner deity;
No introspection for resolution solves this mystery.
When instinctive pleasures win over self-respect;
That candy stolen from a baby bites back.

So at least this girl has won a war:
Maybe she won't last the battle.
She refuses the enslavement of the fashion world;
She takes over her own identity:
No servant to the establishment yuppies or the fashion divas.

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

A Really Bad Poem

So crushed and misappropriated am I!
Am I!  Am I!  Am I!  Am I!
That my heart lies on the floor, waiting...
Waiting forever hopelessly while mourning
The loss of your eternal love, darling.
Baby, sweetheart, darling..
I miss you like a fish misses bait.
I love you like athlete's foot loves dirty feet.
I want to be with you.
I want to eat you.
I want to be one with you.
Long past death doing us part,
I want to be the bat in your cave.
Please take me back, I beg of you.
As Justin Timberlake is to pop,
And Janet Jackson is to dance,
I am to you.
NEVER leave me.
Please!
Please! 
Please!  
Or else, my eternal love, I shall die...
As critics would like...

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

Anita

Broken with eyes missing,
Just as two souls were kissing:
Missing spirits in search of merit.
As the wind rose up into the sky,
Circles of ice and hail formed. 

Upon the whisper's scream,
In the horizon's echo:
A return to the primal.
Instinct desires them,
As the sunset's fire burns through their skin.

A token love casts a spell,
Of black magic onto the throne,
Blood-stained and lined with nails,
She sets her eyes upon his image,
Scarred into woven silk cloth.

Centuries old now;
As if for the first time,
At the feel of sunlight,
She lifted up her veil.
The moon rose up into the descending darkness.

Her eyes looked up to the starkness,
Of yesterday's possibility.
As his eyes told her goodbye,
She flashed her sharp fangs at him:
Her dark brown eyes shocked his whim.

Natural, and to effect, her platinum hair:
She was a tigress;
Who moved like a ballerina.
Grace and extravagance defined her;
The way lines cut by a blade bleed.

The sunset gave meaning to the moment;
To the plans he wasn't scheming;
Over the end he was just dreaming of,
She would wear that black fedora,
Then attend his would-be funeral.

For a decade he would hang on,
To the snow in his image.
The mirror is the sky's vain.
He took her up on an offer,
She made in vain.

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

Games

Michelle refuses to tell; 
How many pennies she’s thrown; 
Into that old wishing well. 
Michelle hasn’t been told: 

Destiny wasn’t written in stone. 
These days, I really don’t care: 
How many deals you make; 
To dealers over a free hit; 

You only live for your next fix. 
You’ve already put out the fire; 
With the abandonment of desire; 
At house parties with hustlers; 

While searching out cheap suppliers. 
She chose not to play the usual card, 
Still she put her hands on the table, 
She sought out the winners amongst the sinners;.

A way into that addictive game 
She made a deal with a blackmailer . 
Now she wants to lay the blame; 
I don’t think I came for a sad story. 

About smack and snow, in all their wasted glory. 
I know of her history.
How long she lasts, only time will tell; 
Her  ride to heaven looks like hell.

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

Volcanoes

Volcanic rain beneath the ocean floor sputs out
As the sponges wonder what the lava's for
A cannonball that casts out the eye
As skin separates from flesh

Suddenly the exposed, exacerbated skull loses its mesh
A careful entrapment of scarlet tears
That weave in and out of the quilt
Destiny developed him over the years

He promised that when the day was over
He would wish upon a four-leaf clover
Pyrotechnics played with his demons
As he courted his own semen

One wish granted brought him the dynamite
Another wish came true when he found fire
The last wish fulfilled his greatest desire
Off with his face forevermore

He used to wonder what was in store
As he sailed upon this sea of gold
Once upon a time he abandoned love
As he had been told

He used his hands to steer the ship 
The salty brine of the ocean on his hands
He used to lick off his hands
Till the sun started to look insane

Deep inside a dizzying, hypnotic state
Suddenly the stormy skies could relate
As the sun vibrated towards him
The clouds moved closer and closer

He thought the second coming had arrived
So he quickly let go of his pride
He revved up the cannon
Then he lit the gunpowder

He thought a stick of dynamite would aid
The process of cutting through with the blade
So he struck a match and held it up to the device
Till he heard a big bang

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

Longer

Start to sound like nothing at all: 
When their back’s are up against the wall, 
And the Empire’s fortress starts to fall. 
I hear there’s a concert for grieving; 
Down at Altamount; 
Surmon on the Mount; 
There is a gospel for the good: 
Misappropriated, misunderstood. 
Come on! Give us a reason, 
Instead of an act of treason, 
Against your collective self. 
This abandoned nation, sometime, somewhere, 
Left its very heart on the shelf.

Details | Stephanie Kjaerbaek Poem

Outlaw

Visions blind his sight; 
These nightmares wake him up; 
In the middle of the night. 
Memories fade to dust in time. 
 
He misunderstood the message from; 
Outlaws arrive at the border by transgression, 
They fight against the boundaries of oppression. 
Now this boat is sinking, 

While he goes down with the anchor. 
I watch this tragic shipwreck. 
Cameras show up in surprising places; 
Familiar strangers view public dangers. 

Sitting here staring at these white walls ;
Some insect under his skin makes him crawl. 
He wonders at how she eats away at his flesh; 
Still edgy after a night without rest.

People come and go but he swears; 
They count the droplets that drip off his forehead. 
They see inside his desperation; 
Results up for anticipation.

He condemns with such ease; 
The other’s desire to please;
The affliction that rules his kingdom.