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Best Poems Written by John Walton

Below are the all-time best John Walton poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Porcelain Shell

Ribbons from her wrist; 			
dip the bath, to amber still.	
Stain her porcelain.

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Head East

There is a bird here, 
calling back to her echoes;  
terribly in love.

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Mr Chin-Held-High

The dry eyed man walked
with his chin held high. 

He'd done his best, and 
said his worst. 
There he walked away, 
away from the hearse. 

Who it contained, 
I do not know... 

But whoever it was, 
they sure got a show.

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His Yammer

Stricken by the yammer, 
I decided to leave. 			
I'd rather be in 'The Slammer' 
as he'd never drop to one knee' 

I love you, I do,
but you must not pretend- 
I am nothing, for you!
You know I don't contend!

So explain why you do this- 
Why did I ever believe,
I could ever be your fair Miss?
Why couldn't YOU simply leave?

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Professors Desk

Like a crowd of Roman folk, 
they've collected in the rise of 
chairs and desks for the day, 
to approve and disapprove.  

Ones kept a gape to his mouth 
peering into a bar of light on the ceiling; 
the turkey student. 

Another leans her knowledge 
heavy head on her hand; 
marching through the mind numbing 
pages of her psychology book, 

looking about the room 
to see who is more than likely 
to be the one that suddenly 

pulls a gun and starts shooting- 
probably the one intently listening
in the back, obviously woken 
by the rush of lateness; 

the ones who smile 
are the ones who frown most.

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Let Go

Let go. 

Just let go. 

It's okay, there is no shame. 
This is no show, this is no game. 

This is life. 
It's okay to fail, 
just remember to 
never doubt your ability 
of getting back up. 

Roll with the punches, 
roll with the hooks. 
Grab yourself a pan! 
Think yourself a cook! 

Do what you can! 
Do what you may! 
Never let anyone tell you
this isn't your day! 

GET UP! GET UP! 
DON'T SLEEP! 
ONLY REST! 
      CARPE DIEM!!!

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Minds Ease

As sweepy wind blew 
against my door, 
A sudden ghostly chill began 
to sweep the floor. 

Wrapping the table leg,
I watched as it climbed;
whipping my candles flame,
I heard its whispered plea.

 Rest your mind dear boy,
 the pen has become weary.
 Allow yourself one nights final wink, 
 before you become dreary.

	She is all I dream of 
	and I write to forget her. 
	Rest will not put my mind at ease, 
	nor my heart will it please.