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Best Poems Written by Angie Wassell

Below are the all-time best Angie Wassell poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

Today I Wrote Poetry

There is a certain misery
That comes with daily routine

Conquering-
the memory
Of a life
   
         LeSS RESTRAINed

Creativity lost-
And the stars fade
Human natures-
     
          irrevocable mistake

Is it in our genetic make-up?
Where did this malfunction come from?
Designed with inner hallows
Never to be filled
Seek but never find
Cover your eyes
with dark glasses

clearly one cannot hide-
wide open
              EYES of deception

What is this shared familiar obscurity to the cold
leaving seeds to feed the future

                        Spoiled

In a perfect world....

 Today I wrote poetry

 Today I wrote poetry....

And that was enough

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

Fall

The ache of you/ still falls on me,
Comes regularly like seasons
And always, it finds me-
In ten thousands shades of winter

So many things/ 
my fault
I know
These things that keep us apart

But this distance it breeds
an aching need
Like a slow pain
Through my heart

Last night I was remembering
Those days before our cold war
Love, then....

So alive and crisp
in the autumn leaves
discovering your philosophies..
for simply knowing...
Knowing you
was a natural gift

But human nature has her memory-
when every season 

feeds upon the past

When hearts remain unforgiving

Love falls......
like seasons-
never meant to last

And when spring merely greets
with one lonely strain of light
dreaming through a weeping willow

I'll know why the branches-
hide from sight


Love fades like paper
turning yellow

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

Lure Me

You crave my....
pixie dust lust.
My
cinderella sex
dip- the tip of my wing
till it's wet with ink
put you under my spell

Want to linger on in
my silky soft skin
suspend yourself inside
my fragmented
        story
like good sex is ever
without fury

I am the promise of
an unopened letter
a psychological thriller
that keeps getting better

You taste my
well place lines
lightly laced 
with longing
questioning your resistance
wondering where you're belonging

Love for us....
A haunted unwanted memory
praying please
  "cure me"
Yet you lure me?
I am your
hour glass obsession
absent any 
vulnerable expression
don't mistake this girl 
for lonely
I've made grown men 
drop to their knees
praying goddess please
pull potions from those 
pale pearl pink lips
and cure me

Perhaps my darling 
I shall confess
I  am anything but 
a damsel in distress

yet still.....
    my quill
is dripping with ink

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

Evolution of a Marraige

A great mind is mine,
Although it shines different
in the light of another
  I suffer...
This  constant compromise
between loving and breathing-
The death of my bones/
Or the loss of our blood?

  Us....
On the upside
We can be sweet,
  Sweet perfection
Me... All Betty Crocker
In a yellow apron
Another pill/
Another powder...
Whatever keeps me/
Wrapped  in roses

Another selfish 
sacrafice to survive
The destruction of us-
  
And then.....
    The crash
Dare we lie
Another day-
On this stage

Dancing just to keep
all the things
I cherish least

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

Alone

This time it just might stick
The proof...
It all aligns.
You've pushed me to far
my love;
This is our great divide

And I cannot wait to sell you
to the village of fools
to go from trusted lover
to so malicious 
and so cruel

Just think..
All those dark corners
youv'e been hiding from-
I now know all their names

The signature at the motel
it is your own....
I'm no longer lonely
My darling-
I'm just alone

© on Dec 23 01

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

Today

Today.....

on the first day

of spring,

I remind myself

to remember hope

as if life is a wave

that I can catch

 

We are all born blue,

without a pattern

the sun behind the horizon

tells us not to worry

though we do

 

I tell myself......

It is the first day of spring

and there is no

"Then"...

just a now.

 

No sharp edges,

no corners- just

a spoon dipped

in chocolate

Hope....

a door

 I kicked down

and kept running

Until I almost

found myself

 

Love ......Yes

I shall love as if;

it is  my favorite 

small black dress

I slip past my hips/ slick

As if he wont notice

It comes off easily

from practice

 

Spring-

how it brings

the eternal optimist

maybe

he'll believe that

I could love him

as much as

I love myself

that I am a wave-

that he could catch

 
I catch my breath
And tell myself

Remember...

Spring....

"What happened to you

that makes you

this way"

Remember there is no "Then"

Just a now...

 Remember spring

  to remind you...

You forgot yourself

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

His Speech Bold

His speech...

Bold

Like red,

Red roses

Sweetly poisoned..

I drink his

Ill champagne

 

Drunk from syntax,

Hard and heavy

Like angels tongues

pleading loudly

His speach-
 born to tear the skin

an exercise in exhibition

Passion; alive in text

he likes to watch-

Me listen

 

I love the way he speaks

A little sweet

a little dirty

 

 I bet you like to pull hair

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

Redemption

She imagined he'd fine
the walk unbearable-
Along the pavement
In the blistering heat

Cursing the humidity,
and the absence of/
any reassuring breeze

Breaking for this place,
Once remembered by
Its playful streams
Aligned with jasmine-
       And overgrown daffodils

Trying to comprehend,
His questions remained-
Unanswered

He hates it here
     
The bright stillness-
Without words

The forward/
without motion
      
Witnessing the only thing
He ever loved-
Suspended in this desert

And yet...
how beautiful
It seemed
To someone raised
In a landscape
Never short of rain
       Lifting his arms
To her empty sky
             He prays for water

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

I Should Perhaps Apologize

I should perhaps- apologize
to all the stars
In the blue-black sky

For asking all its brilliant questions
to which-
I merely replied...
Tiny answers

And for as long as I / 
have left to live
I should perhaps-

Myself forgive/ for always standing
In my own way

And to the man I may 
most likely love..
To the mystery of 
his existence

 I pray-
 
If ever he shall ask again,

If ever those dark stars  

 Dare dream of us-

 I pray..

    That he may be forgiving

 If at the end of the day
It turns out -

        That I am stuffed,

To all the world
 I've ever loved....
        
   If it appears I just gave up

Details | Angie Wassell Poem

By Poxy

There you stand
 once again-
 In that moment
 
 The past;
 Quiet, murmuring...
 She brings you backward
 A season of sad all her own
You see her there
through the window
eyes so green
they could cut an emerald
Her body/
small and fragile
A little girl
with tiny arms
in a stiff dress
 An enigma destroyed
 Her heart
 
 Sundays dressed
 In a mothers purse
Filled with prescriptions
Treasured dolls-
whose eyes rolled across
the kitchen table
and a beloved father
who remained silent.