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Best Poems Written by Zachary Newman

Below are the all-time best Zachary Newman poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Two Cities

Atop a hill of ice and snow
There sits two cities built long ago
One of black, an ominous place
The other of gold and captivating grace

People journey from near and far
To see a view entirely without par
A castle of obsidion, made to last
And an elegant town, of light and glass

Rarely appearing to those that seek
Caring not if they are strong or weak
But if you travel in the frozen waste
You may find yourself eventually faced

With a view on which few mortals have layed eye
Majestic beauty under the endless blue sky

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Humanity

We are young and innocent, born of chance
Dirty and barbaric we are at first glance

Our power lies in potential and curiosity
Giving us the needed escape velocity

To surpass all odds reaching astounding heights
And becoming one with those distant shining lights

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Strange Faces

Blank faces constantly pass you by
   Known but unknown all under one sky

   Although you do not know their fate
   New worlds for you they may create
 
   For though few will know your inner soul
   They do have the slightest control

   To see thy face and share a glance
   This improbable deed entirely of chance

   Brief this encounter may seem to be
   But of your fellows it does make you see

   That you are just one of infinite beating hearts
   All born of life; To play their part

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Empire

From Roman laurels to Britannia's immortal sun
Men fight to not be outdone.

A game of ego played in the highest degree
Creating woes they shall never foresee

Empire’s are not made to last
And so the die is somberly cast

A one and it shall fall all too soon
A six stays times hand only till the next blood moon

However even when the last column crumbles to naught
Know that it will live on in thought

For the hearts and minds of men are ensnared
As their truest desires are shared

By the thought of a great, golden throne
Set far away and all alone

From moral ideas of grace and community
These are no ways to opportunity

The throne is sought and many shall walk its path
However all shall soon feel its wrath

You cannot seek a seat of gold
Without watching your heart eventually grow cold

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The Forge

A journey usually begins With a whimper not a bang
So in this adventure I shall begin in a most unusual way

This is a story of the forge, a place that dreams are made
At the core of the Verse there is a place of beginning.
From stars to language and even ideas and dreams
That drive intelligent beings from start to end.

In this forge a man works the cosmic bellows
That stoke the flames that fuel all that is.
He is known by many a name and title.
But in this story he is just a man.

Through his careful watch and craft he toils.
His work is less labor and more an art.
Because from nothing itself his creations come.
A thing that is worthy of at least a wayward thought.

The man's age is something entirely incomprehensible.
He has forged the verse again and again.
Being there to see it born.
And then again to turn it back to the dust it came.

His hammer is the paragon of originality.
And his anvil the gate to creation.
His body a collection of nothingness and dust.
His mind the first of all things.

The man will continue to work for ages to come.
And many more after that.
So when you look to the speckled skies above.
Look for the celestial Forge at work on high.
And bask in the glow and warmth of existence.

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The Lonely Guardian

Cast adrift alone to endlessly Guard.
 That which the gods have left entirely unmarred.

 Endowed with gifts enough to reach the stars.
 Limited only by his inner scars.

 For although this lonely figure be ready and able.
 His inner goings are anything but stable.

 Chaos and order fight tooth and nail.
 Seeking to be the one to finally prevail.

 However balance rules all and to this he is but a slave.
 For divergence from its path will take him straight to the grave.

 But fate his mistress will not grant him this end.
 And to her he will always have to depend.

 That which he protects is a most precious jewel.
 Its scarcity can be called naught but cruel.

 For the Guardian is of the jewel, and it of him.
 Either may cause each to forever become dim.

 The chaos inside him seeks this thing most dark.
 But order be watchful, ready to light a spark.

 Perpetual sustainment is his curse and joy.
 For in many ways the guardian is just a boy.

 Young and curious he casts wistful glances above.
 Staring deep into the speckled darkness full of love.

 For although the guardian is forced to wait and dream.
 His heart is bursting at the seam.

 To leave his lonely, troubled post.
 This is what he wants the most.

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Music

Carried by winds of captivating grace
Causing word and deed to interlace

For when man does speaketh through his soul
It connects him with the universe as a whole

Inspiration given and marvels soon made
All through a simple song timely played

Actions then imbued with heavenly verse
Makes struggle more easy to traverse

For music and magic be one and the same
Both given and got by mans inner flame

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The Lives We Live

A Tyrant of black
Lounging in his tower of glass
Surveying all his domain

A Merchant of gold
Sitting in his mansion of bronze
Calculating in his voluminous ledgers

A Soldier of grey
Patrolling his streets of stone
Upholding the nations peace

A Worker of brown
Toiling at his labor in a steel factory
Trying to feed his starving family

A Man of white
Walking the brick alleys of a world in decline
Seeking the necessities he rarely has

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Mountain Reflections

When I sit atop a high mountain all alone
And feel the cosmos to the bone

I dream of adventures traveling to distant stars
Traversing the dark to make the galaxy ours

If only imagination could take me away
From the trivial goings of day to day

A ship to take me wherever my heart would go
Careless and free entirely without woe

But I lay here in this beautiful place
Forcing me to have to eventually face

The reality of my mortal life
Full of pain and endless strife

If only I could fly away
To follow the travelers simple way

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Patience

Fire and passion drive man to deed
 When a sage's word they fail to heed

 Wait and wish but stay thy hand
 For impulse leads to things unplanned

 He who takes a moment to stop and think
 May find his woes may quickly sink

 Away to depths which effect you naught
 Abandoned in your place of thought

 Reward be given day by day
 For he who seeks to find the way

 Apart from swift action born of lacking sense
 Bad fortune then to leave you hence

 Do take the time to consider thy fate
 For this may make your life change from good to great