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Best Poems Written by Daniel Larson

Below are the all-time best Daniel Larson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Back To Lost

Looks at the roads been travelled
     every morn when he awakes,
Smiles at his few glories
     and sheds tears for his mistakes.
Can feel the ancient breezes
     that have long since passed this way,
Their echoes are still ringing 
     through the sins for which he’ll pay.
Been forced into the valleys,
     his journeys kept to the dark,
The guiding light's holding hope
     in nothing more than a spark.
Prayers remain unrecognized
     deep in shadows of his gloom,
The mirror keeps his secret
     underneath a pale costume.
He’s become but a number
     on a faded page long creased,
And hung up like memories
     in the bellies of the priests.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2013



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Rocking By Decree

Have faced the final curtain,
     the passing through of change,
A crossing of the mountain
     on pathways, oh, so strange,
No more visions are moving
     over the clouded stage,
Words no longer do remain
     upon the crumbled page.

This chair becomes the pleasure,
     the throne of last resort,
Where futures wait silently
     for tomorrow’s report.
Sometimes the weight seems lifted,
     sometimes it’s not to be,
Through all the chained up mem’ries
     souls cry out to be free.

The fountain has stopped running,
     the rose been starved of drink,
Sands of time roll down the hill
     taking one to the brink.
Then thunder meets the sunrise
     and neither knows what’s meant
By the sounds of aftermath
     that echo through lament.

Suddenly the yesterdays
     have melded with the blind,
The times of life once gone by
     disappear far behind.
The rocking chair’s still moving,
     the eyes still come to see
All that has e’er gone before
     has somehow set one free.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Daniel Larson Poem

Just Gets To Be That Way

Like to be free from earthly debt,
Wake to mornings without regret,
No longer hear the babes that fret,
Be satisfied with where I'm set.
     I'm a long ways from that place yet.

Still searching for a warm embrace
And for all that it could replace,
I've seen the cross fall from its base
When passing through another place.
     I've not yet found amazing grace.

Stumble oft' on the gravel road,
Struggling hard with a heavy load.
Somewhere the future will explode,
High above this humble abode.
     And still I'm faced with what is owed.

There are some which hunger for need
And others that plant from the seed.
One will follow and one will lead,
Once in awhile I'll hear them plead
     For all the broken hearts that bleed.

Souls drift over seas of the mind,
Riding the waves once well defined.
Yesterday holds the secrets blind
To the futures not yet outlined.
     Sometimes life is just so unkind.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Daniel Larson Poem

Rising Sun

I have woken on a morning, seen the last of ev'ning's dew,
Heard the prophet crying out but was little I could do.
I had headed for the mountain but half-way got turned around
'Cause I seen a shadow floating over someone's sacred ground.

I've walked ten thousand miles or maybe it's even more,
Trying to get back to a place before they shut the door.
They told me that you're leaving but you'd already gone,
You headed for the Springtime because that's where you belonged.

     So clasp your hands and bow your head, and pray that when it's done,
     You'll be standing on that mount in the glow of a rising sun.

I can remember times gone by when I was but ten years old,
When all the things beyond that point had already been sold.
Now Henry became Susan and Mary calls herself John;
Too many things were changing as the world was rolling on.

     So clasp your hands and bow your head, and pray that when it's done,
     You'll be standing on that mount in the glow of a rising sun.

Some swear that there be angels a' traveling sight unseen,
Touching soft the broken hearts an' dancin' through the dreams.
But I will never know them for they're working while I sleep;
They're busy looking for the souls that they are bound to keep.

But I know of the thunder that comes from o’er the rise,
It shakes the ground I'm standing on, brings tears to my eyes.
I'm told that it’s salvation an’ it’s coming on the storm,
And mercy’s the only blanket that’s gonna keep you warm.

     So clasp your hands an’ bow your head an’ pray that when it’s done,
     You’ll be standing on that mount in the glow of a rising sun.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Daniel Larson Poem

For Those To Come

Came from out of nowhere
     in the middle of a storm,
Something from yesterday
     that somehow had been reborn.

Window frames were open,
     waiting for the dark stained glass;
Church bells rang through the town,
     choral singers sang a mass.

Children ran here and there,
     searching for the hidden prize;
Headlights turned the corner,
     changing colors in their eyes.

Suddenly tomorrow
    brought all that's gone before;
Far beyond horizons
    there remains an open door.

Tell me when you have been
     lost in shadows of your mind,
And of those days that rode
     on the passing winds of time.

Long ago we were young,
     yet those years will not return,
Pictures of life once lived
     now hide lessons still to learn.

The youth we cherish dear
     will soon grow to take our place;
Pray they will come to know
     that we've left for them our grace.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2016



Details | Daniel Larson Poem

Gotta Luv 'Em

Can't tell you no more 'bout all of this pain
Nor the voice that screams "he's no longer sane";
Can't sleep through the night
For the hard blinding light
And the music that refuses to wane.

There's something about the doctor I'm sure,
Promised salvation and a miracle cure.
Strapped me to the bed,
Sent a pulse through my head
That keeps saying one day I’ll be pure.

And then there’s the smell that drifts through this gloom,
Keep telling the staff someone died in this room.
It’s said with a grin
“He’ll rise up again
And we suspect it will be about noon”.

There’s needles at dawn, another at ten,
The bed spins one way and then ‘round again.
They point to my face
And say “what a disgrace”
As the brown spittle runs off of my chin.

They’ve even recorded some of my rants
And swear I’ve talked tongues in some of my chants.
Believe what you will
It was that last little pill,
And just now I finished peeing my pants.

But sometimes there’s a gap in this foggy ol’ mind,
I recall the days of a long ago time.
For one moment it’s clear
About who put me here;
It were those “sweet loving” children of mine!

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Daniel Larson Poem

One Peaceful Afternoon

Sometimes there are songs sung,
     sometimes dancing in the street,
Once in awhile the blind
     fall in love with those they meet.
Memories will linger,
     memories will call the tune,
Sometimes on the breezes
     the old music comes too soon.

Ladies plant the tulips
     in-between last years old rows,
Then feel the sands of time
     slide so softly through their toes.
Blossoms will arrive soon
     with the season's passing days,
They follow shadows quick
     moving through the sunshine's rays.

Lovers walk through a park
     underneath the skies of blue,
Hand in hand, down the path,
     past the places they once knew.
Children ride upon swings
     which move back and forth in rhyme,
They be carried through dreams,
     taken to another time.

Some follow the footprints
     that had been left in the snow,
Some stay just where they are,
     they have nowhere else to go.
I myself wake from sleep
     and peek slowly o’er the dune,
Wondering where she’s gone
     on this peaceful afternoon.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Daniel Larson Poem

Springfield, By the Way

In the one skip of light fantastic
Stands the butler dressed in black plastic,
Then from under the kitchen table
Crawls the sister who's near disabled;
Watches brother run with his cohorts
While his hands are shoved into white shorts.

Then appearing out on the pavement,
Near the old shop that sells engagements,
Are the dancers caught in slow motion;
They've run out of elixir lotion.
Music's blaring but no one's singing,
They're fearful of what autumn’s bringing.

When the words came down from the Heavens
They'd gambled on sixes and sevens.
O'er the ramparts was hung the traitor
While the cannons shot down the sailor.
The high priestess opened the prisons
And erased all soothsayers’ visions.

On the morning of the night after
There's no joker spreading his laughter;
No ships sailing that carry Norsemen;
Just the echoes from the Four Horsemen.
Now the preachers have turned to fasting
As they wait for the everlasting.

Little sister's running for freedom,
Heard the Horsemen as well as seen 'em.
Brother's standing with hands in pockets
While he's watching ten thousand rockets.
In a short time it'll be revealed . . . 
Armageddon’s coming to Springfield.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2012

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Find Me a Friend

Got caught up in the crimes for just nickels and dimes
     while time was stolen from the masterpiece,
Never did see the flaw living outside the law
     where love became the only thing released.
I look down at the sand wond'ring when it began,
     knowing I can never turn the tides back,
Yet sometimes I can see the day when I'm set free
     and my soul's no longer under attack.

I'd looked out to the east and saw the parish priest
     was holding the one that I used to love,
Saw his hand come to rest underneath her soft breast
     as they danced through the moonlight from above.
Be it passion or hate, I signed off on my fate,
     was not looking for myself to be blessed,
And I never would know what it was I'd forego
     in the times that would hold what's been confessed.

In the dead of that night, in the soft pale moonlight,
     my heart knew nothing but the fire ablaze,
Only two bullets spent in the long lost event,
     neither saw the emptiness of my gaze.
They sensed each ones last smile for just a little while,
     as they fell into the other's embrace;
Now in times yet to come it will be said by some
     that they died with both dignity and grace.

I can still feel the heat as the sand burns my feet,
     I'm staring at the shadow of a noose,
I just pray that it's quick, that the rope's taught and thick,
     and my spirit so easily breaks loose.
I'll soon come to those times when the nickels and dimes
     are lost beyond the tides that won't return,
Maybe then in the end, I will find me a friend
     who will lead me on that one last sojourn . . .

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2012

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My Time In Madison

I found myself in Madison
     on the eve of a country fair,
Had no idea why that was
     because I knew nobody there.
The leaves had not yet changed their shade,
     though an autumn breeze drifted through,
Could hear the last marching band play
     as I walked down an avenue.
Looked at the sunset o’er the west
     as it moved from the water’s edge,
And wondered when tomorrow comes
     will I still be upon this ledge?

The morning light crawled through the blind,
     drifted down a hallway of grey,
And through foggy ruins of time
     I was awakened to the day.
Heard meadowlarks in field’s afar
     and children’s laughter down the lane,
Thought I saw passing countryside’s
     even though I’d missed the last train.
Dew drops settled upon the the grass
     while robins sang in unison,
I glanced quick out the windowpane
     to see I’m still in Madison.

The fairground had now come to life,
     I could smell the fresh jams and cake,
The platforms for the beauty quest
     were being set up by the lake.
New costumes had been passed around
     though ev’ryone was told to wait
For the crowning of “King” and “Queen”,
     whom would rule over this year’s fete.
Still I sat within my small room
     while the day seemed to come undone,
And though I lost my first pure thought
     knew I was still in Madison.

Sometimes life puts up a rainbow
     in-between thunder’s crashing roar,
Other times nothing counts for much
     when you’ve never been there before.
Found myself waking on pillows,
     looking at a prize I could win,
To travel over unknown roads
     to a place where I’d never been.
Had dreamt I was riding that train
     and woke up with my talisman,
Was forced to think about it twice . . .
     that trip I had to Madison.

Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2012

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Book: Shattered Sighs