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Best Poems Written by Evelyn Collins

Below are the all-time best Evelyn Collins poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Splash of Color

Its rather hard to remember when the days bleed together.
Bruised yellow, low melancholy soul
combatting vibrant purple highs.
Its diffucult, 
when something resides inside of your ribcage
ripping you apart.
When all you have to give the monster 
is the rolling black of a lonely 3 a.m. 
Its hard,
when all I am is gray. 
Gray matter heart beats too slow.
Gray matter brain splatter on the wall. 
But all I see is red

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2016



Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Hypocrite

Naseauted by the sermon,  
by their definition of love       
brush the taste of vomit off of my tongue.
Head screaming, sit in a pew.
"lord, the father. My heart belongs to you"                                   
assuring the assured, with their egos oh so tall.             
all the while assuring me I will fall.       
The screaming masses of bodies        
The adrenaline, running through everyone in an electric current.
The night before that sunday
So fun
Protesting the church                
Masked they stand, in clouds of tear gas and hate. Screaming about the right of man. No. She will marry her wife. 
No matter what these people say.       
The sunday school teacher,
Intoxicated enough to forget the next line in their group chant.                                                                                         Lord the father, my heart belongs to you.
Hypocrite. The word rings in her ears.

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2016

Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Finding Me

I’m from toy cars and mismatched Barbie shoes.
I’m from bike races down the one road where no unpadded limb was safe.
I’m from a Sunday carpool and Tom Thumb slushies in Florala.
I’m from the twang of Conway Twitty,
the screams of Aerosmith and a hundred dances in between.
I am a child, finding joy in excitement!
I’m from dribbling chins and watermelon juice,
“Goodnight, sissy”, Band-Aids and kissing boo-boos.
I am a role model, finding strength in my fear.
I’m from bonfires, tailgates, and kissing goodbye. Barbeque at Jay’s and Christmas at the Hill.
I’m from standing on a milk crate to shoot pool and burning eyes in Walmart swimming pools.
I’m from Easy’s growl and Smokey’s purr.
I am passionate, finding love in freedom
I’m from jumping on a trampoline in torrential rain and the smell of roses
I’m from barefoot adventures, crawdad fishing, and “stay out of my pecan trees!”
I’m from 3 am Life with Ethan and 2 pm short cuts to Kayla’s
I am the hope I find in myself.
I’m from rivers, I am from oceans.
I am from pain and joy and tears of both,
I’m from love and belief in the power of unity.
I’m from toy cars and mismatched Barbie shoes.

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2017

Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Mime

There is a mime, controlling my brain.
Wordless, silent, to solitary he is confined
constantly in pain
This quiet mentor is tormenting my mind. 
He teaches me to perform, but he's all too perverse.
The necessary faces, 
teaching me with his 
Silent movements
all of the necessary lines
to fool the audience. He's a master of the art.
Oh, what a farce.
There is a mime in my mind
and it seems to me he's falling apart.

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2016

Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Ms death

I enjoy destroying men. 
Well, boys. Hurting them, ruining them.
However you want to phrase it, the point is I love it.
I suppose I do it simply because I can, 
but I know its much deeper than just that. 
Silly little boys, just looking for sex. Thats all they are. 
I change that.
I show them what love is,
I sit with them silently and let them cry on me
like theyve never cried before. 
I promise them I'll love them forever,
I take them from their friends, 
I turn them into bag carriers and cute picture takers, 
I hold their hands and their hearts. 
and then I leave. I just leave. 
There was one boy once, a boy I truly loved. 
With all of my heart. I had no intent of leaving him.
But I finally met my match
a mr.death, in the flesh. 
I met the boy who did to me
what Ive done to so many others. 
Karmas a bitch, isnt she?

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2016



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Existential

Where are we to go if there is no true 
home?
where do we look
when knowledge has so many forms?
oh Beelzebub, oh Lord, oh books and art!
you all have contradicting intelligence,
intelligent nonetheless. 
How are we to absorb information,
when emotions from the whirlwind heart of culture
and consideration
cloud the vacuum mind?
Why are we expected to upkeep a dying planet?
What difference does it make
if our children are never born?
Why do we want so badly to continue
this species of disaster?
We only produce, prolong, and provide
pre-made destruction.
What is this life we live?

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2018

Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Nonbelievers

Little church in the middle of nowhere, empty car in the parking lot.
Hundreds of empty souls and their memories have wandered in between halls and pews; teeth gnashing lies, angry hands signing love while simultaneously forcing their words down your throat like a medicine syringe to an infant but what have you done to be deemed sick, nonbeliever? 
The trees are pink and the house is purple and when you put them together the sky turns lilac
The butterflies in the bushes don’t flutter into my hands anymore and they say it’s because I have not found god
Little girls in purple houses are losing their innocence and the pink trees are losing their appeal because demand out runs supply and, couldn’t we say the same for faith?
What haven’t we done to be deemed as sick, believer?

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2018

Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

ASK

Have you ever heard
The pathetic rhythm of defeat?
have you yet drummed to the beat of losing feeling to the brain when logic is snatched away
By reckless hands of someone you cannot name? 
Have you tried harder things than the rocks on the bottom yet?
have you found those vices numb in their beautiful faces, twisting and grey, void of satisfaction?
Tell me if it's better than the shredding throat feeling 
Of a sob building
When someone you love
Looks at you in a way
That conveys a grotesque disdain.
Tell me your story, answer
so what is unasked from your mind will be poured into my hands
and i can recount to you how it does get better 
In a way that will help heal your experience and mind your pain

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2018

Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Human Tribulation

Scream burn in the corded bridge
take me as I am or not at all.
I am sick, demented
what is, insane?
Super nova burst and created monsters
I am only one.
This world vomits pain and in it I find the
best feelings.
my chest is throbbing because the black 
monster i keep there doesn't know 
how to do anything but beat against its cage
and pretend to be okay.
I'm going straight to hell,
where I'll be free to be as unwell as i 
please.
Please me, please you.
In a bedroom we are all just black
shadows and silent moans.
In the morning light i am a goddess 
without emotion and you are pitiful 
this is all I have ever learned.
Goddess, in Hell

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2018

Details | Evelyn Collins Poem

Paper guts

The ticking of the clock in the living room echoes 
my footsteps, my breathing, and my anxious heart beat.
Something has robbed me of sleep and I am not myself 
until the pencil twirling around my fingers in the clumsy coping mechanism comforting only to the strangeness in my bones  
meets paper. 
Where my guts can spill in an array like sunshine on water
across a page and cut through, not skin but my rain gray barren landscape mind. I am not myself, 
movie screen actress spiraling in graceful slow motion.
the kind no one notices because they're cursed with braces in adulthood. 
Hiding from starry eyed children and anxiety ridden adults, I have not been myself. Pacing, with paper guts and pencil limbs.

Copyright © evelyn collins | Year Posted 2018

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