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Best Poems Written by Marty Windsor

Below are the all-time best Marty Windsor poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Explaining Everything

I need counseling and you are a therapist.
I need support and you hold me up.
I need acceptance and you are non-judgmental.
I need love and you give more than I ask for.
I need to talk and you are a good listener.
I need to listen and you always know what to say.
I need to be quiet and you hold my hand.
I need you and you are there for me.

This is what I mean by everything.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Nothing Something Everything Anything

When I look into some people’s eyes,
I see NOTHING.
Yet in other people’s eyes,
I see SOMETHING…
Distant, yet recognizable,
And I want to get closer.

But when I look into your eyes,
I see EVERYTHING,
And when our eyes meet,
Our souls collide,
And ANYTHING is possible.

In your eyes,
I am healed.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

The Architecture of a Kiss

"Do you wanna dance?" he said,
and she said, "No, I hate this song."
"What kind of music do you like?" she said,
and he said to himself, "Now it won't be long."

He moved a little closer,
in the chaos it was hard to hear,
but the nearer he came, the softer she spoke,
until he could feel her breath upon his ear.

The room became smaller and hotter
as he watched her lips as she would speak,
and when he couldn't hold it back,
she let him kiss her on the cheek.

Chemistry
Anatomy
the architecture of a kiss.
They never expected to feel quite like this,
coincidental bliss.

The midnight world was warm and wild
as they stepped outside to say good night,
and when he kissed her it felt as if
they were falling through depths of height.

Parting for home,
each one alone, or as such.
They never expected healing so much,
all with one touch.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Dutch Whispers At Midnight

Sheltered beneath her veil of tears,
Amsterdam calls to my heart.
She follows me
through golden dreams and opiate sleep
to tempt me away from the true path in.
She is the wind on the water
filling my sails
with a quiver as soft as a sigh.
For no words
were ever quite so breathless
as Dutch whispers at midnight.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Pilgrim Souls

Diamond tears are falling,
crystal streams of broken dreams,
lost on the horizon,
children in a driftwood jungle.
Pilgrim souls of brown and gold
shining in the autumn moonlight,
secret homecoming.

A shooting star scattered sparks all around us
as you buried me in the sand.
Magic dust for infant eyes,
the treasures we unearthed
laughing at the blues,
cheating time
and whistling in the wind.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Crying On the Coward's Birthday

Emily wakes up laughing
but I see tears upon her pillow.
She's so far away from
shoulders and sleeves.
Remembering surrendering.
No more pajama tops
or secrets in the dark,
just a flame burning slowly down to spark.
Where and when
then and there
she's losing track of details.
She punches the clock
and puts together
pieces of permanent plastic.
She hears a song,
her strength is gone.
She lays down her munitions.
Crying on the coward's birthday.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Gentilly Clouds

Love comes in colors
and April
(dressed in 501 blue rain)
chases winter
and her guardians of the heart.
Blackred roses bleed
through a cornerless sky
and lovers hide their eyes
from the hot pink iridescence
of it all.
Painted horsemen
canter by in full regalia,
flagwaving to the brokenhearted.
Black and white rainbows
and grey days fade
into technicolor dreams
and neon nights.
My canvas,
your landscape.
Still life moves
from a palette of pastels,
reflecting in your eyes
the color of Gentilly clouds.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Threading Needles In the Dark

Taking time to test tradition,
I entered a stage of your tragedy
where high hopes ended in question marks
as a mad dog bared its teeth.

You asked me if I'd help you
thread a needle in the dark,
and when the cold steel pierced my skin,
I felt your pain
but I let it sting.

A drop of blood upon my lips,
I waited for a tender kiss,
but you left me on a stairway in the rain
threading needles in the dark.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Pantomime

Once again I ask myself to suffer,
sifting through so many words,
there's so much I want to say.
Perhaps afraid to stand before you,
naked to your judgment,
exposing every nerve and every weakness
in a pantomime.

I wouldn't know what to do
with my strength anyway.

The deafening silence is broken
by the annoying sound of pain
as it goes away.
You are the voice,
and without your words,
my page lies empty.

I've been struggling with a phrase or two,
three nights passed without a gift.
No secrets falling from my lips.
No lover's knot of rhyme or reason.
Too many words to choose from,
yet never enough to say how I feel.

Tomorrow suffering.
Enough of a battle today.
Think I'll rest my head awhile
and dream of pantomime,
surrendering words to you.

Details | Marty Windsor Poem

Of the Same Soul

Flushed and frothing in the late July heat
of a slow motion Texas afternoon,
I ventured a call home
and found you
there.

Still of the same soul
and still the same
half of my whole.

It took almost an hour
to remind you how much we breathed
when rust was new on the dog
and kisses hung from trees
like diamond tears.

Remembering December in July,
a pleasant diversion from this blistering heat.
3am Delaney Street
and you
with those matchbook blues.
Every box you opened up
was like a gift,
and suddenly it was Christmas.

I drank a toast to you and me
and me and you
and thought of Dutch and Parson Brown,
dancing in our socks,
a lamp shade and a windowpane,
yet nothing left for posterity
but this memory in July.

And me
wishing skies were not so high
and cement didn't dry
and that we could carve our initials
in an evergreen Christmas tree.