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Best Poems Written by Cameron Boyd

Below are the all-time best Cameron Boyd poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Senryu 1

Red curls
infinite
envelop

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016



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The Gardener

Wet skies
Grey dawn 
Blankets the coast.
Black rocks
Sea foam 
Triggers the most
Atlantic applause,
An encore to those
Just hearty enough
To make a life on The Rock.

And to answer the call,
Between stone cracks,
Moss roots, 
And squalls,
A garden was planted 
Where nothing 
Had grown
Before.

Before...

Before the Gardener came
The coast was a love-lettered painting,
A bouquet to the sun,
Orange, red, and yellow flattery
Through living imitation.

"Seek ye first the kingdom of God,"
Said the sign
On the gate
At the edge of St Johns.
"But I think I've finally found it,"
Said the man
Creeping silent
With his too sharp sheers
Cutting flowers
Uninvited. - 
- Everyone's front lawn
A memory
Of what united
Them for two score years.

Bloody hands dropping pedals on his way to the shore,
"Don't worry," said the man,
"I don't want to come back,
With any luck," he said again,
"I think this should be enough."
As he placed in the arrangement
A note that read,
"Je suis
Désolé.
Bitte fragen Sie nicht
Für mehr."




100 years ago, July 1st, 1916, the entire Newfoundland and Labrador regiment was killed at Beaumont-Hamel, during the Battle of the Somme in World War I. Of 780, only 68 reported for roll-call the next day.
After 40 some years of having no military of their own, they had mustered up a unit of volunteers to support the war effort. 90% of them never made it through their first engagement.
Canada Day isn't just about celebrating.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

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Xx

She wears the night sky on her face
Constellations for her freckles
And wisps of shooting stars hang
Forever falling from her ears.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

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-onic

Drinking this bubonic tonic
with sonic running through my veins,
making these feelings seem platonic
and the world a bit brighter and better
with these quadraphonic sounds
and with these hydroponic pounds
of this atomic chronic 
i'm not so shallow and bitter.

every sound electronic,
and made monophonic,
the dances moves suffer,
all anamatronic
until that iconic bass drop
starts attacking tectonics 
with so much Napoleonic rage,  
it moves these symphonics
to super, hyper, ultrasonic.

johnny mnuemonic's
not just hooked on phonics anymore,
but instead he's a supersonic supernova
among the stars a Casanova
exploding with the  
sounds of natures conics
that would make Pythagoras proud,
the demonic harmonics echo behind him
like a shadow fading as the sun goes down.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

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Little Man

A cannibal of currency
You’re not yourself anymore.
Became your purse long ago,
Sense of self tied to coins
Of which you’ve never held.

Little man, little man,
where is your home?
The house on this hill
Just an empty shell
Painted like so much canvas.

There for the eyes of your peers
But your peers aren’t your friends
And your friends aren’t around
Tell me please, where did they go?

Little man, little man,
Do you hear the sound?
No one is calling your name
Where did they go
And where are they now
And why aren’t your friends in their homes?
Little man, little man
Do you hear the sound?
They’re making it plain as day.

You ate their income
Ate them of their house and their home.
A cannibal for currency-
Consumed all your friends,
Fat little pig on the hill.

Little man, little man
(You) can no longer ignore the sounds
Of ten thousand mouths
All hungry for you.

You ate their money
But you couldn’t stomach
The pure human spirit inside.
Now they have crawled back,
Out from the ghettos,
Starving and hungry for you.

Forced to eat each other,
You’ve all but raised cannibals,
But this time of flesh and of blood.
Little pig, little pig,
Can you hear the sound,
Or have you become deaf
To your own cries as well?

No one will miss you
You don’t have a home
Your friends became food
A long time ago.

(Die Geld von die Leute Sie Essen gekauft
Sie isst ihr Geld,
Mehr jeden Tag,
Kein Geld fur Essen
Sie isst Sich,
Jagd nach dem Hunger,
Fett kleiner Mann,
Jetzt der Jaeger ist Essen fur jeden Mund
Kleinen Schwein, Kleinen Schwein
Konnen Sie den ton horen?)*

Greasy lip smacks
Sound like ten thousand claps,
The only applause that you’ll ever hear.

----
*The absolutely horribly written German stanza (pls halp).

The money of the people bought their food
You ate their money, More every day,
No money for food, They ate themselves,
Hunting the hungry, Fat little man,
Now the hunter is food for every mouth,
Little pig, little pig, Can you hear the sound?

It’s been forever since I spoke any sort of German and it’s fading fast. Sad face.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016



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Starcrossed

I won’t be your Romeo, 
in fact I refuse to be.
I’m not what's best for you,
I’m not what's best for me.

// 
I refuse to be your princess,
because even I can see
you’re not what's best for you,
you're not what's be for me.
 
\\
You won't end up my Juliette
I don't want you to
I don’t want a perfect girl
You’re just right being you.
 
//
I don't want a knight in shining armour;
I can wield a sword on my own.
I'm not looking for love,
you're just better than being alone
 
\\
I won’t be your king,
 
//
I can’t be your queen.

 \\//
But together...
 
//
You will never be my Romeo.
 
\\
At least we'll be something.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

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Halo

I've never been here before 
Why is it so dark? 
This place is unfamiliar, 
So cold and unforgiving, 
I can hear wide open spaces 
And feel something close to me. 

There's got to be a way out of here 
But how much pain 
How many deaths 
Lay between here and where I want to be? 

Scared stiff, don't move a muscle 
Thank god I'm still alive, 
Safest place to be 
s'where I've been standing all along. 

God damn, just take my hand, 
Lead me out of here. 
I can see you when I close my eyes 
Your halo burning bright, 
I catch your ghost just for a moment 
When I open them again. 
Where'd you go, please take me there, 
It's where I want to be. 

Out of here 
Away from here 
It's where I want to be. 

What's that sound? Something's moving, 
Something dark and huge and heavy. 
What's that light? Something's shining, 
It must have been in hiding 
Behind what's hunting me. 

It's moving further, getting dimmer, 
Fading faster back to black. 
Can't see my feet but hear them running, 
Cool air rushing by me. 
Can't see my breath but feel my chest, 
And the nest of coals inside it. 

What's going on 
I was safer where I stood, 
Why am I chasing in the dark 
After your fading golden halo? 

Running blind- I shouldn't say that, 
I chase the only thing I've ever seen. 
Gaining slowly it comes closer, 
I see now a little truer 
A horizon burning brighter, 
(I've) not laid these eyes on it before. 

How did I go so gently into this cold starless night? 
How do I not remember what the day had brought ashore? 

Jumping hurdles I can't see 
Landing gracefully on 
Roots and rocks and rolling ankles,
Feeling so less safe than I am sorry. 
Limping, bleeding, scarlet drops in darkness, 
A trailing crimson tail behind me shows I must be getting closer. 
Pits and claws and stakes and jaws 
Crawling now and gaining still. 

Lighter, brighter, shining down, 
Your halo there above me. 
I've made it, I have won, 
Your honey bathes me well again. 

But I am tired and I must sleep, 
Here on the ground close at your feet. 
Let me close my eyes and pray that if they open 
This was more than just a dream.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

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The Loneliest Man

how quiet it must have been
for you, michael collins...
how calm it must have seemed
for you, michael collins...
how tranquil you must have felt
up there alone
with no one on the radio,
except for you, michael collins...

doing something no one had done
with no one around to see
because you were in a place no one had been
with no way to share what you saw
because even radios fail that far away from home.
but not you, michael collins...

how dark was it in there
with not even the sun to guide your way?
how still was the air
with not even the wind to make a sound?

how many times did you ask yourself,
michael collins,
if you would ever see home again?
how many times did you think to yourself,
michael collins,
that you might not ever again
see the faces you remember?

on that clearest night,
did the stars not seem brighter than before?
upon coming into the sun again,
did you,
michael collins,
not feel lighter than before?

it must have been strangely startling 
to have been startled by that strange crackle
coming from the radio.
for another human voice to sound so foreign
yours must have been a lie.

how did it feel leaving that void,
michael collins,
and crashing back into existence? 
how soon did it feel,
to you, michael collins,
that your feet were back on the ground?

i imagine you must miss that silence.
...
i imagine you must 
from time to time
walk far far away
and look at the stars.

i would ask you one question if i could,
michael collin,
on the clearest night
when you look up into that darkness
have the stars ever been brighter than before?

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

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Remember Me By This

"Remember me by this"
is what you said
as you bequeathed what you bequothe to me
from within your hand upon to mine,
a locket you yourself had made
and just a day before,
with the very hands that grazed mine then;
the only ones to touch my core.
 
i was shook and shaken
full of fear
and also anger too
but you did what you had done
and one last time you disappeared. 
 
that locket in my hands,
the hands that yours had touched too soon before,
those hands then clenched so tight
the clasp your hands had made with so much care
was stuck sealed solid for four more years.
 
not a word did i speak to you
nor would i had i found you.
not a single sound then passed these lips upon this face,
this face of mine you used to kiss,
not a single sound was meant for you
or either of your ears.
 
not until that seal stuck solid gave way
and brought back your disappearing day
did i ever say a word,
a word which what was wished to whisper passed your thoughts
and echo off the walls that you had built inside your heart,
the walls s that you yourself had built
with those very hands,
the walls which never kept me out
but which had never let me in.
 
stuck solid seals give way in such a fashion 
that the clasp is then just more decay,
and upon mine eyes gazing at that locket
which you yourself had made
with the very hands you hold
holding someone else's to this day,
i did not see what i had seen each day before.

for those four years it was your golden face,
a face that stopped one's heart at but a glance
then made it quicken pace.
your golden face inside that locket,
with a smile only god could make,
with the very hands which he must hold,
which must have made the rest of you,
but this was not the case.
 
within that locket which you gave to me
with words telling, that this, the only way must be
how i remember you,
i did not find your golden face,
nor silver smile,
but instead a picture of myself
grinning like a child.
 
i do remember the occasion though i know it's not important,
you wished to be remembered- not in physical attraction
but in how you let me love you
and from your every silver smile
my school boy reaction.
 
the words i then did whisper
from my lips to yours,
words i doubt you noticed
as we are far from each our doors,
these words whispered something that i feared,
something that i feared so deeply
i had never said before
but yes i mean them now
and do i ever mean them truly
-
I am sorry.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

Details | Cameron Boyd Poem

Breakdown

Waiting here
Looking at the stars
Watching all the pretty people
Climb in all the pretty cars.

The sun's creepin up
With the numbers on the clock,
It's got me second guessin
If I'm really waiting for you
Or if it's all just a show
'Cause my car wont start
And my doors- they just wont lock.

This old four stroke engine
Never won a race;
Make a lot of noise, but it
Never took first place.
I used to hear it bangin' round my chest, now,
A friendly little growl,
I hope it only takes a rest, now, baby,
I haven't heard it in a while.

I ain't burnin' diesel, baby,
and I ain't burning coal.
I ain't burnin' much now, maybe
That's why I'm so cold.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

123

Book: Reflection on the Important Things