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Best Poems Written by Mark Anthony Cotterman

Below are the all-time best Mark Anthony Cotterman poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

Poetry Is

Poetry is white lights falling upon rainbows and snow
Casual exchanges blinked upon a shared pillow
Lip prints etched inside an antiquated photograph
The obligatory holding of hands as a lost-craft

Poetry is the scent of morning kisses
Words that blossom, an arrow that misses
Umbrellas unopened on a drizzling day
A trail of lovers unable to find their way

Poetry is an evening sparrow chasing the moon
Two silhouettes cascading into a spoon
Roses blown from a closed casket
The loneliness of waiting for her to ask-it

Poetry is the answer to what if and why
Tissues capturing the tears but not the cry
Rubies polishing a heart to an imperfect shine
The undefined likeness of I, Me and Mine

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

A Watercolor Lie For Two

upon the painted grains of sea
I posted dreams of a candy-cane
barely on the verge of belief, we
drown myself to sleep in a bed of insane

within the breathing skin of a canvas
you rub your brokenness into my heart
shallowly I drift to clean up the mess
that neither of us would ever start

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

My Black Thoughts

we live.  we die.
I question my questions

I sigh in the breath of disgust 

cold dark air follows my shadow
my shadow does not know me
I turn left but it begs right

flip the switch on the moon
go dark, let practical wisdom
doom the day and spirit the night

drink, drank until the numb of drunk
heals what bandages can not 

let go of what ills thy heart
let prayer cover words of doubt
let seeds grow in the very reverse
of what I have failed to sow

bring the kingdom
for what it offers can not be bought
and what can be bought
shall NEVER ease my black thoughts

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

I Am November

I am November, the chilling winds
blend with the conditions in my heart
My heart blends with 13 years of not
blending to the conditions very well

I am December, the morning shares
the same blackness as the nights
To which I divert from the light
calling for the morning to prolong its darkness

I am January, 5 days since you first said
my full name without a word being spoken
As my ice dispenses a single drop
unfelt before you appeared in a shadowy halo

I am February, too soon to whisper 
three words into your untested by me ears
Though 14 days in, I find comfort there
while you reach for the top shelf of doubt

I am March,  uncertainty keeps the ground
wrapped in snow and the lake waits for
Lovers to fall deep into its trap
one in which we barely escape

I am April, change has captured a soul
within the song of a bird that decides
Not to fly but instead make a home
of old leaves and unbloomed flowers

I am May, now into the 5th month
of finding a home, a shelter for brokeness
A hand to be unheld but very much held
in a quiver of complete togetherness

I am June, there is sun...vigorous sun
shining across ponds and glistening into
Conversations of a life to be lived and others
to be brought into our world, our home within us

I am July, I am tired and battered
by the maybes and some days
I am restless in a worn shell 
that dreams of being in that lake still

I am August, gardens have given of themselves
and now drift into the acceptance of expiration
There in all that greyness of upcoming death we find
the tethers of a tomorrow bonding our ankles to the bedposts

I am September, how the moments now go do not
will not and can not matter because
I am you and you are me and from this month on
we breathe in the love and only exhale to the Heavens

I am October, I am blessed by the cool air
that rises from an imported breeze
that has taken this heart, the one once frozen
and given it a beat, a hop and always a skip

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

The Touch of Being Untouchable

Breathe to the north with eyes
Filled with empty deep-blue skies
Traveling just east of my chest 
Where you shall find my brokenness
In the cries of a black bird
That seals my whole-world without words

Listen for the southern touch of lips
While caressing the softness of pink sips
Swallowing every particle of a flowing moon
That gasps at the intimacy caught by the spoon  

Touch me without the sense of feel
Cover up what I cannot reveal
Unchain your eyes
From the northern blue skies

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

Online Love

what is why as the metaphoric world
spins fibers once organic now plasmatic 

damsels in drag, boots in high-heels 
dancers swimming in tap-tap-tap

bras in search of breasts of real
nipples slip into a safety net

you sip away at your ghost
i toast with two pills and jello

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

Flow

Lay me down into the river in which both are fed
Lost of control as you sweep me through your life
Where land can leave you (with me) dead

Leaves are draped upon areas you love to know
The water seeps into our minds and does

FLOW...

over thoughts that we dared to choke on together

FLOW...

over fingernails that never scratched beyond the surface of each other

FLOW...

until we fall from the edge and splash until we drown...
 
     forever.

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

The Gray of Day

The snow has fallen
my feet are getting cold
The window is frosted
any color at all looks bold

The branches are brittle
her blanket remains unused
A heart should give off a little-
warmth when confused

The ground has harden
on this unpassionate day
My vision may be clear
But all I feel is gray

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

I Have Never Known

Unflown inside her own prettiness 
from ground deep, filled with me
lasting touches of feathered beats
heart broken on torn.worn silken sheets

Her lips stain, fresh born in paste
dressed in red petals and icy thorns
silent kisses strained my empty soul
for her scent I have never known

Details | Mark Anthony Cotterman Poem

Romancing Spring

Come to green mother

Naked, willed and wild

Visit the bed of death

Where circles hide

 

Submerse senses in the newborn

Aroma and cinematography

Tease the skin with warm wind

That tumbles and tingles dry

 

Cradle the baby’s breath slowly

As it toddles and cries into a bouquet

Beneath a marbleized sun

On the beauty of a bashful April day