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Best Poems Written by Maurice Yvonne

Below are the all-time best Maurice Yvonne poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Cathartic Weave Of Three

listen, the whispers of leaves turn colour autumn is here. now that you are gone who will wake every morn to lift the sun unveil the sky etch in the clouds who will paint the rainbow? i had a dream and in the dream i wove you a poem i used the fiber of my character to create spools of silken thread dipped in the juices of my passion i dyed them in the colors of my imagination re-enforced each and every single strand with the strength of my love touch, the echoes of the rain - waters - blossoms spring. now that 'us' is just a word no longer with you as one i alone wind up metal toys cut out paper dolls the beach swept from under my feet the child in me flees. spun spools from the intricacy of my spirit designed a pattern to the rhythm of the music of my inner thoughts enamoured in your vision crystal beads gather on my brow as i toil your finely bred gift as i braid every part of me with every memory into every sliver of fabric taste, uncut snow shapes crisp cold ices the wintertide. instead now rusted a fools gold chain of loneliness hangs around my neck like a noose mourns a union that once had breath a twosome that now is dead. see, the sand sculptures paint rekindle a childhood summer past. sew in the loving glow emits my flawless dreams with my boiling blood initial my woven piece my work at an end i awake you lay there a wingless angel asleep smiling as if you heard a bell ring your boundless warmth embraces me the moon no longer smiles the stars no longer wink smell, seasonal airs stimulates senses memories they deliver. without a touch barely - i kiss you. in this my decade of one hope is a wickless candle the night just day without light in the glee, hopes and dreams, in the human spirit, lives the miracle of life. magnificent voices in every pitch deep and resounding, the melody of echoes and whispers – uncut. Jan 4 2017 With Love Armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2017



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A Long Loud Sigh

genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.

...maybe it's been a while since you two spoke...
when the dead sea still hosted life,
the hanging gardens of babylon grew in sinc with the breath of the planet,
before the tower of pisa started to lean or mayan buildings were in ruin.

so you write words...any words...they might at least soothe your hurt
hold your heart in a protective shield.
you know how crippling unrequited love can be.
do you still dream of its hug...genius?

life and love share more than a first letter
(like the first letter you wrote under the veil of inspiration).
they also share good and evil...it's a flip of the coin.
either way is fine with you. you'd bathe in holy water or sell your soul.
life, love...passion...somewhere in there...it lives, genius.

all of nature a reflection through its transparent figure glows dark 
like the shadows live in the radiant illumination of evening rays.

so let me speak of us!
recently when i tried to hold you...
you were like a ghost in the bright of day,
a phantom out of its element...
there was nothing of you...i could embrace.
when i tried to enter you a freezing cold ran through me like a winter brook.
you exhaled me 
as if i were fog on a deserted country road invisible to absent eyes.
still you were my drug of choice.
addicted, i chased the dragon...you...genius.

memories fill me...
days when we would paint words,
stitch in a metaphor or two,
weave in music, 
write instruments to fill in the spaces,
ordain a voice.

i remember...

you wanted to taste me
i was overwhelmed 
how you put your fingers on my lips 
how you licked them...you...genius.

you were that giant pine i would climb in the dead of winter
(why do they say that "the dead of winter"? winter will die 
when hell freezes over. winter isn't death it's purgatory.)
the one with the needles that punctures human skin.

come to me again and touch me...
like the butterfly does the wind...barely but thoroughly.
(is it true that just a tiny flutter of their wings could be 
the start of a hurricane? are the icebergs melting?)
i didn't just write that out loud...did i...with you I'm shy...genius.

GENIUS?

fine!
hide.
don't show yourself.
don't speak to me.
fine!

don't bother with rising the sun today.
forget those showers you create your magic arc with,
vacuum away all the plants.
lower your wall of blue.
i'm not interested anymore in those pillowy shapes i use to love so.

i've always known it is fire that cleanses, water that burns,
it is the moon that breaks the heart,
the stars that slaps the face...with...i don't know...reality.
i've always known by the time we see a star...
in real time...it's already extinguished...already dead.

it is our friends that will use us...our heroes that will lie to our face...
our blood will betray our trust...our teachers will fail us...
our leaders treat us like just another job...
the devout that will exhibit hatred.

still i believe. no matter what else...the rose will always survive.
the petals deceiving. they will repel all that is unholy.
grab it by the neck and squeeze out its black ooze,
leaving a gentle soul there to admire its adversary.
don't even get me started on the orchid
or even the flowers all...alphabetically.

i dare confront the beauty of nature's art unframed...
canvas loose to admire...genius!

i miss you but i am out of tears.
do drop in though. 
i can offer you a cup of dry warmth...
soothing like burning logs that crackle with laughter.

or 

take you to my secret place.
behind the camouflage of forests dense,
where vines grow through spiral staircases 
made of turtle shells and dressed in discarded snake skins.
green is the theme there. it is everywhere,
unabridged, unabated, unaffected, undisturbed 
with a fuming, burning, yearning to be touched.
so let's...let's grab...hold...squeeze..
feel free from the cheap paradigm offered.

i don't think you know, even while you sleep, i hold your hand, genius.

dream a full rainbow on a fingernail moon night,
feel february twenty ninth its absolute might,
taste fully the slight of a pheasant in flight,
yearn eternal life, wish a vampire's bite,
concoct rhymes nicely fluffed with built in sight.

genius?
on this sombre morning the sun is blinding.
damn my eyes.
there is a negative entity drapes our children's world.
shame on us...shame on you...i need you.
i am reduced to an objective observer.
life glides on the little wings of its carrier,
its final resting point in the hands of the wind.
another life carried away on a worker bee,
busy stealing nectar from a succulent bud.
a stowaway hangs on for dear life to the flyers leg.
gets off at the next flower.
meets up with a companion to create a new life.

genius?,
everything changed when I met you.
was the sun rising or the mountain sinking.
was that an orange globe against a blue sky
or a lit round hole in a sad wisp of air.

i'll play a keyless piano if you'll paint me a horizon I can reach.
i'll sing you a ballad with a single note...

i walked into my life without consideration.
maybe crawled.
all the same...
when do I get a choice.
when will they stop holding death over my head.

if i could direct a few more plays with you as my guide...
my art, my life! genius i long for your influence...
even one last time to see your face, 
unite and give you one last kiss...goodnight.




April 1 2015
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Linda
Contest Name:A Million Dollar Poem






Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

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The Breadth Of My Love

if my love for you was any greater the trees would line up in poetic forms ...awe you in sonnets written... ...part...to allow winds to cool your face... to trace it with nature’s hand. all the oxygen that covers all the waters rise, supercharge the breadth of my emotion. mountains would melt, shed their peaks like tears of joy. even the arid deserts serve up fruits, their prickly pears peeled on a platter. sunset would pause and sunrise hurry... ...exist in a paradox to herald your presence. petals would climb their stems regroup to bloom again. butterflies re-cocoon emerge as glorious fairies for all children to adore. the skies would willingly shape, etch, paint, frame my exuberance. the planet would swell, the galaxies expand. in the endless depth of my singular love i hold you dear, safely contain you in my admiring smile, for now, forevermore. 16~10~2014 Armand Hamouth

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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I Think Of You - An Alternative Universe - 6


From childhood it was a world of two...you and I...
I leaned lightly, leisurely against your heart and you let me in.

We were five I use to draw you rose scented flowers
using an ordinary led pencil. Youth! The world was ours.

Seven!  I know that was the first time I saw you blush.
I whispered a song for you so no one else would hear.

Oh when we were nine! The potato sack race.  I entered with Lisa.
 You gave me that look. Oh that look!  And you  left without a word.

At eleven years old I had my "magic wink". "A Magic Wink" you'd
say sarcastically.  How it made you giggle to make fun of it.

It was at thirteen we decided to burn the gym floor with our moves.
Our first dance.  You stole my breath. Emptied the room of oxygen.

Fifteen...we started running and my God we ran and ran...
our shoe prints dug into the concrete. It was then I knew. Forever.

Then suddenly at seventeen in the slip of time you left, dissapeared.
Stunned! I slept through the next two years even in the full light of day.

At nineteen I swam an endless pool but even the chlorine couldn't
clear your scent from my memory as my spirit filled out hard as steel.

Was it on my twenty first birthday you showed up? You showed up
 tried to hug me hello. Silent! Cold! I turned and walked away.

Was I still twenty one when I apologized for that day. When you asked 
for an explanation. I recited false words but we both knew. Hurt for hurt.

Then at twenty five we still had issues to work out. I asked you bluntly 
why you cut me loose in the prime of our youth. You my first and only.

I asked the question that burned in my gut. Without words your eyes spoke. 
You were still in love with me. There was only me. I your first and only.

Finally our lips met to never part again. Left to wonder why, I accept our 
lives without an answer. My love was that. Why would I have let you go?

Older than old now. One last time you leave. Death makes this choice. 
Alone again I remember how I never knew why once you left.

Not everything  is explained or understood,
like music by a one arm man playing a violin.

I sport my blank stare. Naked is the body of life.
Mystery sings blind the song of the lark!

and I...

i think of you.



March 29 2015
Armand




Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

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John Lennon


On the day  that John Lennon died,  people were just going  about their business  as they did every day.  Mark David Chapman  was reading  Catcher In The Rye  void of his holy self.  He would have had to  Imagine there’s no heaven.  John took the elevator  down from his room  at peace with his belief  that there was  no hell below us.  He stepped out  on that fateful day  over him,  over everyone,  above us only sky. On the day that  John Lennon died,  people where just going  about their business  as they did every day.  Imagine, all the people  living for today.  Chapman talked to Lennon. Just before he killed him. He was singing "imagine  there’s no countries  because it isn’t hard to do." Chapman shot his  hollow point bullets,  without cause,  there was nothing  to kill or die for  and no religion too.  What a senseless killing,  how senseless killing is.  I imagine all the people  living life in peace. John fell to the ground,  a pool of blood beneath him.  A preacher on a soap box  unaware of the horrific act  that had taken place  was spewing words   that never belonged  to his soul but filled  the tin cup he was holding.  He yelled loudly,  ‘you may say that I'm a dreamer  but I'm not the only one’   a woman in the crowd hummed  ‘I hope someday you'll join us.’  A teenage couple under  their breath followed with  ‘and the world will be as one.’  Amen! They say when the police arrived  Chapman was reading his book.  Imagine no possessions,  I wonder if you can. The Detectives did not wait  for an ambulance. They rushed John Lennon  to the hospital. They weren't looking for credit;  they had no need for greed.  The preacher had left  with his tin cup full,  no need for more or hunger. At the hospital the air was  like most emergency departments,  people comforting people  who themselves needed comforting.  A brotherhood of man. In a hospital with its tragedies  life is more than real  you don’t need to imagine  all the people sharing all the world.  It just is. You can hear  their hearts  beating in tune,  singing  ‘You may say that I'm a dreamer  But I'm not the only one  I hope someday you'll join us  And the world will live as one.’ 07~11~2014 Maurice Yvonne Sponsor: Kelly Deschler Contest Name: I Love Rock n Roll

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014



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Words - The Heart of Imagination


This seasoned evening sported a full faced  Orange Kool-Aid moon. Fully aware it was a marvel it shot me an arrogant wink. Not once but twice. I think i heard it laugh. It certainly flashed me an impish smile. Not much different than my own. No camera could ever capture a moment this precious. This needed, words- the heart of my imagination. I stepped inside. Pen in hand, iPad at my right side, laptop in front of me, desktop computer behind me, electric typewriter on my left side I was ready. I only hoped I would be able to express in words what  I had experienced. I penned this. This seasoned evening sported a full faced  Orange Kool Aid moon. Fully aware it was a marvel it shot me an arrogant wink. Not once but twice. I think i heard it laugh. It certainly flashed me an impish smile. Not much different than my own. 09~11~2014 Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A Contest Name: Best Poem of 2014

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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A Tulip Grows Under An Evergreen - Inspired By The Poets At PoetrySoup


A
fine
Parrot Tulip
in vibrant intensities 
with unique undertones
of green acquirable only in a 
few forests. A ruby red swirls within 
its petals beckons awareness of those very 
strokes that live in the lustre of your shapely lips 
like fantasy realized. Mirthful yellows in all those lacquers 
barely ever seen as one would scorch their eyes to gaze lastingly 
directly at the Sun - though I have been fortunate to witness identical 
iridescence in strands of your hair you unintentionally flip and like dainty 
fingers wave me on to move closer to your flawless frame - memorized easily.
A 
special 
fuchsia sparingly 
paints the flower they
say exists only in certain 
singular gemstones yet l know
this tincture for I have seen it in your 
cheeks when we play and laugh. Oh your 
laugh how it fills me - replacing noise surfing
the waves of sound in the surrounding atmosphere.
How enchanting when your laughter there - dwells to
tickle molecules invisible to the eyes but felt by the human
heart. Parrot tulips with their soft myriad shades become stunning 
against a deep black backdrop which shimmers bright like your ebony eyes. 
Sparkle like your smile and I grin happily just thinking of you, just thinking of us.
A 
pearl
white that also 
adorns the flower a 
special light effect I have
found in your complexion - dazzles
my mind each and every time I see you.
Parrot tulips a miracle of nature, a special
breed I admit are as remarkable as any offering 
that grows in our gardens but rarer still - you the flower 
I share my life with. No one, no thing, no life compares to you,
your approach - for every time I even think of you, the joy it brings
completes the meaning of my existence full. If not for you no other delight 
would have that extra zest I feel from the sharing of your love and light always.
A
Parrot
tulip oh 
what joy it
brings. How the flower
draws these words from
me. Ironic how true allure felt
fills our glass so I thought I'd share
with you how it uplifts my days - knowing
confident in our love as one - you'd never resent
me speaking of an elegance other than yours. So you may 
know - understand what the fibres of ones constitution compels 
them to write. Now - about a mystique other than the one you sport with
humility. Finally I have written a poem on aesthetics that does not mention you.
A
closing
monologue.
Just above and 
beneath the dirt grows 
riches unimaginable. Made to 
be absorbed by senses recognizable 
only by a few. They are free for the taking.
An appreciation, a love of a natural essence.
A flower, a person, romance you breathe incomparable
to anything real or imagined.  It alone are the wings we humans 
seek...as real and as precious as all else consumable. How lucky I 
am the magic handed out daily on these pages. The people I could never
find anywhere else then here. I am in love with their words in love with them.


the   re    frain       
is a  par    r               a 
ot  tu lip                m
hid   d                a
en u                j
   n             e
   d           s
   e         t
   r      i 
   c    
   e
    v
     e
     r
    g
   r
 e
 e
n
earthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearth
r  r r  r
 o   o   oo
o      o o   o
    t      tt     t 
  s      s   s      s
r r        r   r
o  o    o        o
o  o        o   o
t      t          t     t
s   s        s       s




April 27 2015
The Gardener



Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

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Thinking Out Loud

~writer's notes~ i think out loud from my fingers to a keyboard so forgive me if my speak is somewhat long winded if it has swirls and curls this is me hopefully you want to hear my voice in its totality ~the prologue~ just a child he clenches his teeth grinding creating a screeching sound much like worn out brakes the yell of steel on steel he bleeds my God how he bleeds a deep breath and boiling burgundy spills over the structure of his frame wears down the flesh to the bone the sun stops shinning birds start falling out of the skies have you ever heard a dog wail in pain that was him that loud puppy the barking that breaks the night in two i confess he was me - emphasize 'was' ~the story~ back in the day in the dead of night still young cautious we met at a special place where nature's hand had drawn a line a spot unique only we could define where pulses race at an amazing pace like cranking dry ice through veins You asked me "Do you believe in love at first sight." I answered "I believe in love under any circumstance." (later you told me you loved those words) you clarified "in love - i mean do you believe in falling 'in love' at first sight." I replied "I believe in sparks." your face lit up "Sparks?" you asked "Yes," I proclaimed "sparks and kerosene." looked you directly in the eyes smiled and added "wanna burn?" we kissed (how soft this moment was to the touch) the cosmos slowed down i swam in its essence at a crawl devoured this sliver of time as it simmered almost at a standstill I uploaded it to memory my internal library one with shelves leather bound shards of experiences with strong spines one's could stand the test of time our sweet union warm lit now a part of me you stole my lips bound to my heart as they are grazed against my waining restraint surrendering all reason i lost myself to your tender grip your gaze touched me deeper than any man should be felt like a unique note of music heard once never forgotten my wanting a whistling kettle a cool vapour of cleansing mist a burning desire to inhale your presence and never breathe again from then on it was always us you you were always there when I thought I was falling off the earth you handed me what you called gravity saved me from an endless existence among a bevy of extinguishing stars always had a paper pad a pen you were the only one understood my ink flowed of its own volition had a mind of its own could run slowly like a glass smooth lake or like rapids - rabid foaming at the mouth a waterway damaged by jutting rocks as it hits the sea wall - hard however no matter the ups and downs you you were always there when i sang Dylan and Cohen quoted them in Malta, Prague, Croatia lectured people smile the same in Europe as they do in South America cry the same in Africa as in Asia both when tears flow over smiles continued in England some tend to speak quietly in France their passion often screams so when I needed you when there were no words instinctively you just held me soothed my pain i was a man in motion interested in fusion our minds would eventually meld with love held shared a single bed like queen and king when we walked the moon was ours alone the promise of your love the nature of your embrace the perfume of your mane you you were always there ~ the epilogue ~ your words touched my heart your lips softened it your shine tickled my fancy your hold owned my smile together life seemed so unreal in the best of ways when the universe its vast array of entities pauses for what seems forever i dance stupid knowing everyone's looking even staring in disbelief that's what our love allows me the courage to be me no apology i live my time cradled in the calm of us live it just - being and you you are always here

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016

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Yesterday Love Was Such An Easy Game To Play


Yesterday, I went home for lunch, I never go home for lunch. When I got to our apartment  I don't know why but I didn't reach for my key.  Francine was at work and I always leave last in the morning.  I was sure I had locked the door but I didn't reach for my key. I reached for the door knob and turned. The door was open.  I don't know how I knew. The moment I entered I knew.  I froze. I could feel it, smell it, hell I could taste it. I started walking but my muscles wouldn't move,  my lungs were grasping for air  for some oxygen  some sweet, sweet oxygen but I could barely breathe. “Leave!” I told myself but I kept walking. Not really walking,  it was like moving through mud,  like a slow motion scene in a movie.  But this wasn't a movie.  This was my life and I could feel it slipping away  from my grasp. I heard noises! Francine.  I had heard those noises a hundred times before,  they were the sounds of an Angel  but this was no heaven  this was my own private nightmare. The moans traveled through the muck in the air  amplified like the hiss from a distorted speaker.  It mocked me over and over again. Climbing a mountain might have been easier  but I finally reached the bedroom, and there they were, and there she was. I knew, I knew the moment I entered the apartment.  Why hadn't I just turned back?  I could barely see, my eyes were blurry,  covered in layers of my own tears. I could see her  I knew I had never seen him before. They were naked and in our bed.  Naked in OUR BED! How do you that? How do you cross the line to that extreme? You'd think the green eyed monster  would control my actions from here on in.  I did see green! I was insanely jealous but I didn't want to end up the morning headline in the newspaper. That monster jealousy was by my side but I took charge.  I'd have to keep him at bay, at least for now. You'd think I would be mad, I wasn't. You'd think I'd curse and call her whore. I didn't! Being cut open alive must be lest painful than this.   This hacked away at my spirit,  tore away at my self worth. I felt like a pile of worthless shreds. I spoke I mean my lips moved and words came out... I think.  I think I said,  I'm not sure it all happened so fast, she never spoke. I could see the shame on her face  she didn't need to speak,  but, but I think I said 'Sorry... I said Sorry and I left. I wandered for what seemed hours,  it was minutes.  It wasn't like I was meandering to a different drummer;  there just wasn't any music anymore. I was moving to the rhythm of the beating of my own heart.  Like a broken record it was skipping, like a broken record it played  in a loop of repetitive monotony. I suffered in my circled steps  until I couldn't stand it any more. I found just enough strength  to return to the apartment. I knew she was gone  I already felt the emptiness in my whole. We'd never see each other again. We had been so much. She was a big part of my life. She was the love of my life. I would never love anyone like that again. So much of her was me. I thought she was my soul mate. We let go of all of it. There is a feeling of betrayal. A feeling of disgust. A jealousy that takes over. I'd never look at her the same again. Everything she ever did from that day on would always make me suspicious. Jealousy would rule me. Jealousy should never rule anyone. If you can't trust the people in your life, friend or lover, you need to remove that person from your life. You have to remove that person out of your life. Trust, is the only gift we can offer. Friend, lover or stranger! People can trust me. My word is my bond. I let her go,  I really didn't have a choice I would never be the same again. She was gone. She had left a note. It said Sorry! Sorry! We both were. Maurice Yvonne 11~30~2014 Sponsor: Verlena S. Walker Contest Name: The Green-Eyed Monster 
 

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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For One Pass Of Your Breath


you write your words and they make me cry you write those word and you know i die but i've died so often now i held you in my arms while you smelled my hair i saw that pretty little smile you saved for me we always ran  too wild to walk it takes two to tango only one to pirouette when you did your round about turned over every single  leaf left me out alone in the dead of spring or  was it winter,  it must of been 'cause i know i almost froze you kissed me back when we first met we kissed a lot way back then how you loved my lips the touch of my skin your thick black mane  how you'd whip it back exposing yourself all bare we never turned off the lights or ever said hush do you still own those dice the ones in gold with embedded gems in black you use to love to roll them  rolled those snake eyes that bit i'd swallow the poison like lemonade stripped naked, handcuffed and whipped your ceramic nails tearing at me my flesh on them  the blood on my back i didn't know   wore my white shirt 'till someone screamed from behind it was red i dripped on the floor like a lit candle melted like a witch drenched in Dorothy's water you clicked your ruby heels and you were gone i wasn't in Kansas anymore walked around with a briefcase  in my Armani suit i never shed a tear bedded woman half my age they lined up in droves  to be with this broken man i would yell like a cowboy riding a bucking bronco and i never fell i was the man  everybody told me so i would smile shyly   thank them their praise but i knew who i was make no mistake every rodeo has its clowns  I wasn't the matador even though I spoke fluent bull the only knifes i carried were in my back do you remember my white shirt the whole time i justified me to me by not thinking by not talking by not listening by not wishing  or even dreaming we both knew there was a gun in my briefcase we both knew I would never use it didn't own any bullets still i pulled the trigger some joy in that  pointed to my head click, nothing  and when I saw you yesterday and I held my breath for longer then I ever had i thought the room would never stop spinning i remember we spoke how i saw it in yours eyes as plain as day regret you knew of my success how fine i looked in my silk woven garb you said drinks? but i looked at my watch asked for a raincheck you'd have none of it and i think your teeth fell out when i walked          anyways I didn't understand your look you knew i had a backbone you know i never flinch that's the story of life take it when you got it with some guys there are no be backs my legs were like led as i walked away and i could hear your tears but i don't care much for phonies you threw it all away when you decided  to look the other way it broke me inside i'd never be the same i never turned to look  yesterday slept the same as always four hours tops nothings changed i'd give my right arm for one pass of your breath  against my lips but my soul? never!...i'll live with the pain. and other man stare and other man wish quietly yearning to be me you know i want to laugh success is like a flashy book cover the cover is what sells the book nobody bothers to read it but they know the jacket by heart set up a turnstile in my house watch the ladies come and go never let them get close never invite the nice ones the good ones the real ones never want to hurt anyone never want them to hurt like me to hurt like me hurt like me like me me? i'd give my right arm for one pass of your breath  against my lips... Maurice Yvonne 27~10~2014 Dadirector's Free Style Uncut
Contest: Whatever Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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