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Best Poems Written by Julie Kuhns

Below are the all-time best Julie Kuhns poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Water Lily

Circled by serpeants
a bloom reaches for the sky
rising above chains

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Cactus

A lone pinnacle
set off from the dry underbrush
to soak up the sun

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Avalanche

Hurling downward drift
whites out the already white
prevents safe passage

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Butterfly

Looks are deceiving
as you sit on my petals
you are bugging me

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Enabler

Oh my God! You are such a liar!
Sitting in a chair, your eyes conspire
To tell me lies you’ve told before.
But to me, you cannot hide the core
In your existence.
Oh my God!  I can hear you hiding
Behind these words you are confiding.
Your eyes plead for my silence.
Weakly, you ask for my reliance
In your existence.
Oh my God! I would chew those lies,
Lest you hate and cut all ties.
I’ll take your reasons with a smile,
So that I may rest here for a while
In your existence.
Oh my God! I hate all the things I know!
Hate all those things that you won’t show.
So, keep lying to me for goodness sake!
Perhaps, someday, it will restore my faith
In your existence.

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Death of Anna

There's a war going on, but Anna is dead
There's work to be done, gossip to spread
Soldiers have been dying everyday now
But we must get the autopsy, must somehow
I heard of a man blown up in a car
But Stern is the dad from what we know so far
There is something sad in all of this
There are priorities we've seemed to miss
Since when did a bunny take top story
While our men in arms take second glory
I'm fairly certain that we'll go to Hell
Take our souls to the devil and try to sell
But poor, poor Anna, been gone nearly two days
Leaving the reporters in a mad, dash craze
To saturate media with speculation and talk
While her family must hide or be stalked
The world holds it's breath while her body is checked
Only to tell us what we knew, she was a train wreck
There is something sad in all of this
There are priorities we've seemed to miss
Since when did a junkie take top story
While our men in arms take second glory
I'm fairly certain that we'll go to Hell
Take our souls to the devil and try to sell

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Art Imitating

Truth
is better found in the voices of lovers.
Poets
merely play with words and
Artists
search the canvas for visual seduction.

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At Night

Simple sleep
Such intimacy
One leg over
Chest pressed
Head to lip
Smelling hair
A twitch
Adjustment
Quietly cold
Calm isolation
Body curls
Shoulders covered
Head to chest
Hear a tick
A flutter
Attachment
Protective pull
Pure intent
Arms sink
Hips pressed
Head to cheek
Taste of salt
A sigh
Arousal

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Dorment

It comes to this, my broken will
To try
To lie
Have you now gotten your fill?
An entire life you want to kill.
It comes to this, nothing you do
To try
To lie
Will hide that your fondness grew.
I admit, for me, it’s the same to you.
It comes to this, I will give in
To try 
To lie
Just to save you from that sin
Of lies you will commit again.
It comes to this, just you staring at me
To try 
To lie
Not really blind, but your all that I see.
It’s familiar to be here, don’t you agree?
It comes to this, I’ll stay right here
To try
To lie
The truth is still, but very near,
Not moving back, but forward equals fear.

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Nazis

Maestro's uneven orchestration of life,
seasoned with unassuming whispers,
began the eminent finale 
of their misguided souls