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Best Poems Written by Angie Mae

Below are the all-time best Angie Mae poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Late Night On Salisbury Ave.

The meadow's radiance gradually dimmed
and evening littered far and wide
it encouraged the unfamiliar 
and everything uncertain.

The night accelerated sounds of anticipation 
as a thousand strangers loomed
 
and I thought him to be a foreigner 
until he glanced twice 
as his smile slightly dropped
 astonishment plagued him

Insecurity encompassed me
as I turned away in doubt 
betrayed by the numinous... 
that often guides my thoughts

He left with lady and child, to merge 
With a thousand anticipating strangers 
 and the northern lights sheltered me
  the explosions across the sky 
gave satisfaction -to so much expectation 
that unexpectedly emerged 

Then the night was briefly soundless; 
the applause prolonged 
as were my duties...by my immersion
and within what felt like only seconds
he was passing, 

 through a thin pane of glass 
all I could yield was a smile, 

a smile to the incredulity within his eyes. 

Enclosed with the evening...was the meadow, 
and the difference was indistinguishable.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

One Truth

Our present incapable to convey, 
beneath the heaven's sky, 
yet we share the evening elucidation, 
equivalent morning rise, 
my storm will rage your way, 
your gust flustering me one day, 
articulating thoughts of you...
and mystifies my life.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

A Bitter Brew

Outside, there is a small trail
and  six steps 
separating me from those that pass on by,

Impossible, to hide, behind my ruby house coat
and synthetic flavoured...  
bitterly savoured, morning coffee

An old man walks by,
paced, in slow - rhythmic strides
in order to balance three bags
his aluminum collection

Toes, emerging from the tips of his tattered shoes,

As he spies me
we engage in observations

He is courteous, as he desists,
lowers, his head in his travels,
continues to descend down the hill
around the corner of my house,
heat scorching
 
This morning, 
all I can hope for

Is that he does not rip my garbage apart.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Remains and Residue of Love

56 years. 

Now he lives on the 8th floor, 
she lives on the sixth. 

2 floors, 
two buttons, 
and 20 feet away. 


He travels 
by cane. 

Relieved 
they don't make those things 
out of saw-dust, 
she lives 

2 buttons, 
two floors, 
and 20 feet away. 


Too much momentum 
to spin her attempts, 
he waits for her guide downstairs.

Paces in front of the window each day, 
and when she makes her move, 
he hurries down 
-well, he tries- 
so she won’t assemble outside, 
unaccompanied. 

Always wondered what they talked about, 
perhaps the loss of their only daughter 
thirty years ago. 

perhaps not.

That other day 
she sat alone, 
and I thought 

... he may have just had taken a nap... 
and as she rested there waiting, 

she joined him, 
in the only way she could.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Sky-Scraped Ruins

The evening fresh, 
stars allure, 
birthed- ground-breaking. 

To look back, seems feeble
forward, Vigorous.

It is almost too late, 
I have hollowed a place
for each hope I carried, 
trickery twisted imagination. 

The sky littered, 
calling...all visions to death, 
each cup of soil, 
warmth
befriending faith with roses
daisies, 
as I walk away, 
nurtured.

There are no more stones-
upon stones, 
upon stones, 
only hours perhaps, 
devoted.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Arid

Fragments of copper scatter; 
smothers an Opal kiss
the surface only matters; 
ardour does not exist,
and deserts of weary Chicory 
sway with limestone tips, 
swelling like the cactus
blistering our lips.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Chateau De La Gardine

Flourished, the vintage affection of elegant talent
drizzled lightly in the exploration of a drowning yacht, 
 resurfaced, only through amiable bailing, 
continual, until the waves desist, 
the ocean arid, 
then lingers, 
submerged in the dip of the shoreline.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Willow

Weeping Willow tree, 
wave gently over me, 
hide me from the breeze.

I wish to serve cake, peppermint tea, 
Delighted you munch so happily 
no other place, I would rather be..
then sheltered in wispy custody.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Only a Geranium

It is only a geranium
blooms with steady scorches
unswerving loyal drizzles
and swells with glorious colours
that seldom waver to impressions 
as one passes by

 I am only there to contribute, 
take from such beauty all that I can endure
and perhaps as I gain courage  
seed a few more each weekend
until the mornings consist of fresh perceptions
 captivating admiration
and if I need to escape, 
walk out the back gate, 
it is only because 
I often forget to remind myself
it is only a geranium.

Details | Angie Mae Poem

Sweepstakes

He was a silent man.

He stayed upstairs, typing unceasingly
and during dinner, mumbled accusingly
nothing ever finished

That evening he noticed, 
saw his child sitting in the distance
alone, he crossed the field

He teased; they played, 
among the blades of several hills, 
a thousand times they rolled, 
vibrating

He laughed; they roared
 Disney visions, collaborating 
goose-bumps; torching recollections.

He taught; they practiced
hundreds, of air pockets among them 
they flew like ravens


They went home, and thereafter

He was a silent man; 
his child unspoken.