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Best Poems Written by Alvin Thomas Ethington

Below are the all-time best Alvin Thomas Ethington poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Solace In My Quill

I had found solace in my quill
Because therein could be expressed
That tragedy which gave me chills.
The pen and ink gave me some rest—

Because therein could be expressed
The cold emotion that I felt.
The pen and ink gave me some rest
From my own soul's distress and welts.

The cold emotion that I felt,
Discoloring my mind's debris
From my own soul's distress and welts—
For only sadness could I see.

Discoloring my mind's debris,
The ocean tossed and turned on me.
For only sadness could I see
And then I found you set me free.

The ocean tossed and turned on me
Yet you had taken me to land
And then I found you set me free;
We played like children in the sand.

Yet you had taken me to land;
You rescued me from sure demise.
We played like children in the sand;
You showed me that you were so wise.

You rescued me from sure demise—
That tragedy which gave me chills.
You showed me that you were so wise;
I had found solace in my quill.

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Haiku

nature's wrath
in the wind
forgiveness

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Silent Beauty

The silence now pervades my soul and mind.
I smile in wonder at the scene sublime.
The silence now pervades my soul and mind.

I wish to hold this moment for all time—
The beauty of the flowers full in bloom.
I smile in wonder at the scene sublime.

There is no need for dustpan, rake, or broom.
The roses in their glory make me cry—
The beauty of the flowers full in bloom.

I want to understand why when I spy
Upon this garden planted by a man
The roses in their glory make me cry.

It must be all a part of God's own plan
To show the awesome beauty He creates
Upon the garden planted by a man.

When I discern the plot, my thoughts abate—
The silence now pervades my soul and mind.
To show the awesome beauty He creates,
The silence now pervades my soul and mind.

Details | Alvin Thomas Ethington Poem

They Took Away My Innocence

They took away my innocence—
A child, but merely two years old.
My soul left with ambivalence;
I hate myself as I grow old.

A child, but merely two years old—
Abandoned, glossed over, abused.
I hate myself as I grow old;
Completely left confused and used.

Abandoned, glossed over, abused—
Why would a person hurt a child?
Completely left confused and used—
Naïf, so trusting, meek, and mild.

Why would a person hurt a child?
My soul left with ambivalence—
Naïf, so trusting, meek, and mild.
They took away my innocence.

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Haiku

flies trapped
inside rice jar
I ask him to leave

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Chardonnay Wines

I still can taste the Chardonnay fine wines—
The hints of oak we drank at lunch today.
The sun must brightly shine upon those vines;
Warm love in liquid gold its rays display.

Yet heavy is my heart and grief will weigh
Too soon enough for pure enjoyment now;
I know my eyes and spirit can betray
Another thought emotions must allow.

My body furrows its own empty brow.
You look upon my soul with fulgent grace,
But I cannot my love soon disavow;
I glance upon your form and see his face.

He does not care that I must love him still—
Would that my mind could break my stubborn will!

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Carrie At Cafe Du Monde

Her voice was soft on the telephone
She had gentility, like the part of the city she once lived

We talked of tragedy and chicory coffee
My friends had told me the situation was still grim

I asked her of Galatoire's and Brennan's
Of the Ninth Ward, and of her home

While I, pining and homesick, sipped coffee the color
Of the mulatto Mississippi River. . .

So polite and patient she was
For one who had lost everything

Details | Alvin Thomas Ethington Poem

The Result of Cruel Fate

The crone can hear the children's laughter, cold as ice
And they exclaim out "witch", not thinking she can hear
Their parents then admonish, "Try to be quite nice."
Upon her thin, emaciated form they leer
Of love forbidden she has paid the awful price
Malicious magic powers all the children fear
She only wears black, mourning each and ev'ry day
Her world is full of dismal, somber shades of grey


She loved a wealthy cultured handsome gentleman
But she had not the clothes nor proper pedigree
And never would be issued any wedding bann
For poverty did not amuse his family
When finding herself great with child of his, she ran
She felt displaced, just like a dead uprooted tree
In bleak back alley child unwanted disappeared
No chance immoral tainted peccant child be reared


Although she lost her core, her heart, her soul, her mind, 
She wandered dazed and crazy back to town she knew
Her fam'ly said, "We never have produced your kind."
There was no place to go and nothing left to do
But after mournful agony she came to find
Satanic powers very evil she would rue
She met the incubi in wooded forest glen
Although she knew it was an awful, grievous sin


Her soul and body raped by evil forces bold
Instilled in her the seeds of their foul awful pow'r
That grew more potent as she grew extremely old
Demolished, shattered self continued still to sour
Her sterile body, now quite barren, grew ice cold
A vile vexatious tongue lashed out at all each hour
Thus she became a bitter venomous old hag
While dressed in filthy clothes; on head, a dirty rag


She met a fine genteel young man, so good and kind
A person reaching out to all in charity
Attempted making better lives where he could find
He wanted human folk achieving parity
However, he had never met an evil mind
The succubus seduced his soul with clarity
 She crippled psyche; took his cash, his bonds and stocks
 Her languid lips convinced him caged; no keys for locks


Then when the moon was full one night, she murdered him
Around his vile demise all sorts of tales arose
She had dismembered rigid corpse each limb by limb
Disposed so very well of ugly bloody clothes
The whole ordeal had been a gratifying whim
Upon his naked body set a blood red rose
His corpse was never found; base tales do not abate
Today she suffers vile result of cruel fate

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Funeral

His family pretended not to cry 
But both his sisters had no heart to spare; 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie. 

The blazing sun one summer day drew nigh; 
Its orange radiance it could not share. 
His family pretended not to cry. 

There was a man in hell beneath that sky-- 
Discerning now that care, like warmth, was rare. 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie. 

All that his soul could utter was a sigh; 
The shattered saints in Heaven said Lord's Prayer. 
His family pretended not to cry. 

Like sunlight, his disease bore down to dry 
Emotions spent without concern or care. 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie. 

Upon the desert ground he lay to die-- 
Addiction was much more than he could bear. 
His family pretended not to cry; 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie.

Details | Alvin Thomas Ethington Poem

Scattered Shards

you
left me
all alone
without a chance
to pick up the scattered shards of my heart