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Best Poems Written by Thresha Reese

Below are the all-time best Thresha Reese poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Thresha Reese Poem

Road Kill

Ok, this is where I was
A few miles since you last saw me.
A little before sun up,
Before I became road kill.

Stay closer and I'll tell you more.
May I ask, before,
When will I see you again?
Your pure and unnatural thing,
Your nut house?

It's never so easy
When you are road kill like me
Not even hurried
No one checking If I'm here.

Who are you anyway,
To have ever looked this way?
A love letter to road kill,
That spirited, wounded animal
With unfinished business.

Ok, so where were you?
Did you think it wasn't spelled out
Clearly a few miles since I last saw you?
Before you became road kill?

Details | Thresha Reese Poem

The Tongues

The Lying Tongue
sang a song
The Flattering Tongue
played along
The Know It All Tongue
intended the composition
The Meddling Tongue
held it's position
The Harsh Tongue
kept quiet for once
The Tactless Tongue
reluctantly obliged 
The Rude Tongue
got annoyed
The Loquatious Tongue
was soon overjoyed
The Discouraging Tongue
hummed on
The Self-Depreciating Tongue
became withdrawn
The Argumentative Tongue
thought it all wrong
The Boasting Tongue 
thought it right on
The Hasty Tongue 
felt it was contrite 
The Discouraging Tongue
and all this singing
The Indiscreet Tongue's
awkward whistling
The Complaining Tongue's
plodding drone
The Cursing Tongue
let out a no-no moan
The Judgemental Tongue 
liked that a lot
The Self-Absorbed Tongue
rolled it's eyes
The Retaliating Tongue 
held out a hat
The Intimadating Tongue
offered a prize
The Cynical Tongue 
just laughed
The Accusing Tongue
choreographed
The Gossiping Tongue 
signed autographs
The Doughting Tongue
crooned the refrain
The Accusing tongue 
blasted the blame
The Hasty Tongue
fanned the flames
So the Belittling Tongue
dismissed the party
The Devisive Tongue
composed the ending
And the Silent Tongue
looked on.



* All tongues borrowed from < Thirty Days to Taming Your Tongue by author Deborah Smith Pegues >

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Californy

Jack was sitting poker faced 
With bullets backed by bitches.
Neal hunched at the wheel 
Puttin everyone in stitches.
He was braggin 'bout 
This nurse he'd screwed, 
While drivin through Nebraska. 
Said that when she came,
She honked the horn, 
And Neal just barely
Missed a truck 
And then he asked her 
If she'd like to cum like that
All the way to CalifornY?
See a redhead in a uniform 
Will always make you horny.
With her hair net and her white
Shoes and a name tag and a hat,
She drove like Andy Granatelli
And knew how to fix a flat!
And Jack was at the bottom 
Of his second 2020.
Neal was yellin out the window
Tryin to buy some beannies
From a Lincoln, full of Mexicans
Whose left rear tire blew 
And the son's of bitches
Prit near ran us off the road!
Well the nurse had 
Spilled the Manischewitz
All up and down her dress, 
Then she lit the map on fire 
And Neal just had to guess. 
Should we try to find 
A bootleg route 
Or a fillin station open? 
The nurse was dumping 
Out her purse looking for a kiss.
Jack was out of cigarettes,
When we crossed the yellow line.
The gas pumps looked 
Like tombstones from then on. 
It felt lonelier than a parking lot 
When the last car pulls away. 
And the moonlight dressed 
The double breasted foot hills 
In the mirror, weaving out
A negligee and black brassiere. 
The mercury was running hot
And we were almost out a gas,
Just then Florence Nightingale 
Dropped her draws and stuck
Her fat ass out the window
To a Wilson Picket tune
And she shouted "get a load of this! " 
And give the finger to the moon.
Counting one eyed jacks
And whistlin Dixie in the car, 
Neal was doin least a hundred
When we saw a shootin star.
Florence wished that Neal 
Would hold her 'stead of chewin his cigar.
Jack was noddin out and dreamin 
That he was in a bar,
With Charlie Parker on the bandstand 
And not a worry in the world, 
And a glass of beer in one hand 
And his arm around a girl. 
And Neal was singin to the nurse
Underneath a Harken moon
And somehow you could tell 
We'd be in CalifornY pretty soon.

Details | Thresha Reese Poem

Reveille Rev-Uh-Lee

A signal to arise.
I saw it in your eyes.
Reveille.

In good company
Aroused in your bed
Reveling with you
Reveille.

A celebration of the bugle
Your eyes of blue
So close to sunrise
Alive with boisterous excitement
Reveille

Awakened in no time
Every day a new one
Yielding to your arms
Your trinkets with magical powers
Keep us not asunder
Reveille

Tis cold this time of year
Whispering sweet nothings in your ear
Aloud with temper
Under the covers
Consumed and alert
Daybreak for Saturnalia
Reveille

And should I sleep
Away the hours
Under Sun and Moon
My romantic muse
Your castles in the sky
Visions of you
My fool's paradise
And it's cool sheets.
Reveille.

A dream of a rustling
Amongst the flowers
Plumb dumb
With much attention
A revelation
Of our affection
Forever young
Is your fine 
Devotion.
Reveille.

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Thistle

Thistle's when i'm prickly down
Upon your silky pappus.
Ither on over
Your showy
Purple flower head.
Onorpordum Acanthium
Is where i quencheth
On the pointed end
Of a prickspur
Not knowing the time.

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A Palace of Aloneness

A Palace of Aloneness.

This palace of aloneness is not my home. 
It's bricks know only the time of run-off bygones.
Transition past it's thousand entrances 
Impaired with creeping ivy 
Into it's stately communion hall
For the dead and the living you'll end up.

Look out it's eyes towards blurred views 
Draped in so longs never to be clearly revealed.
Gawk at it's floor to ceiling shelves infinitely crowded
With ô so decidedly swollen hearts
Captive inside tightly sealed jars.
To dust them is not my task.

Here, cabinets are filled with illogical medicines
For conditions without extensional cures.
A repository for good and bad intentions.
You'll know as soon as you feel it
That you are there.

I'll take no residence in this palace
On the dark side of it's interference.
Secure no long or short term stay in it.
This settlement has no neighbors
To cheerily comfort with a smile.
No happiness locker, no blowing kisses.
No escape if you accept lodging here.

Move on, let weighty doors close before you
That have no real escape.
About-face before it's dark shadow becomes you.
Recapture only evidence that matters.
There is no recouping backwards.
Offer up your redress to tomorrow today.

Flee past this palace of forlornness.
Avoid it's thorns upon your ankles.
Clutch your heart from head to toe. 
Keep your future safe to ascent again.
Stay out and away look up to heavens above
Even now they are clouded with silver linings.

Details | Thresha Reese Poem

She

^she_

^she_  had a love/hate relationship with food
she only fed with her eyes,
i was a sparkless firecracker 
and spoke English like i hated it.

not the least bit compatible
in any department 
at any hour on any menu
she wouldn't even drink the water.

I would slip through the cracks 
should she stop staring at me
up and down her beautiful 'it is'
she lit an incense and i was ignited.

i offered up an apple
a yellow delicious manifested
i peeled it for her
but she wouldn't taste it.

i laid eyes on her lips 
kissed with dark secrets
an awakening of insects
with equal day and night.

She ate me with her eyes
clear, bright, ripe
it rained on the fruit
and i took a bite.

I spoke to the grain in her ear
i had so much to say
succulent was my speech
She took it all in.

potash, stolen, honey and rye
sup the festal dish don't cry
she had parted the thin line
between a want and it's fill.

I lapsed into that petri-dish
pierced by her green staring
Her warm glassy ogling
all up and down my countenance.

Nourished of palate perception
She relished on her diet.
I indulged as her entrée
feasting her with my gaze.

It would take a while
like a gala supper without wine.
^she_ would  have no seconds
no weakness for flavor of the same.

well fed and fed up
she checked me out
her unusual hunger
gave me best regards

No repeats nor duplicates since
such foodstuff is most uncommon
Her daily bread was nurtured
with the edibles of my mind.


The End.

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Barbed Flowers

Barbed Flowers.

I would write this all down to you
If i thought you could read.
If your hand didn't cast a shadow
on what i would author.
If only you had seen what i saw
that i can only chalk about now
but not here - afterall...

Listen? You can't do that one of two!
Not for yourself, not even momentarily.
Patently not for me nor for others,
not for our girls whom have ears
that listen and seesaw.
Your noisy darkness grasps the heart,
plays it like a theremin.

This is how i feel
when you feel the way you do...
like something always does.
Better left unseen, unheard, unread.
Put to rest the thread,
it comes unraveled
when the needle is unminded.

The scent of October,
it's windy fragrance,
i scribe this to myself.
Saptaparna etched in color.
Holding the muddle together
a little while longer... with rusted wire, 
I nurture beautiful barbed flowers.

Details | Thresha Reese Poem

The Bewailing

Underwater where sound
carries much farther
the bustling of fish feeding
awakens the whales 

tis morning above
frigates are moving 
their noise like fright rising
all the sea's creatures
suffer it's passage          
                                       
from shore into deep water
filling the oceans and seas
noise pollution is deafening
the whales by nature 
swim towards the quietus
mass strandings before them

dolphins lead the way
facing an unheard of escape
frigates grow larger
and the new are born to it
the bewailing 
that ear splitting deprivation
our cloud of disquiet

at sea level up on it 
above the drone of ships
onboard under Cetus
no hue or cry is made of it
the devastating consequences
of 1087 feet per second 
beating soundly to extinction  
all that lives below 
while humans draw power from it.

Details | Thresha Reese Poem

The Gun Carriage

Having engaged in unlawful
Sexual intercourse
The hunter inflicted suffering
Upon my dissent.
Trained for rapid eye movement
He showcased with a violent temper
And in conversation
How it was for the purpose
Of my moral improvement
That in his chasuble
He designed to subdue me.
What an obscenity
To doubt the machinery
By which my chastity
Supports my collected bodies!
The gun carriage moved
Backwards and forwards.
The old world thrushes
chatted in "la Casula".
His discipline hastened
A yawning fissure.
The gorge that would
Breach the structure 
Of our relations
With divergent opinions.
The chaser chassed in
Cheap chauvinism.
The change in this
Chattel's luster
Could be seen in a
Chatelaine's cat's eyes.
Apocopated celebrants
Gathered for the sacrifice
I could tell by the
Marked interruptions
Gapping the framework
Of our forlorn continuity.
It scared me so
That I was not trusted
To trust myself
Or my resultant suffix.
Castitas, intercourse
Or crying became informal.
I longed for the days
Before the chasm
When secured
In composed type
We were the receiving set
Of a mounting foundation.
Now an uninformed attendant,
A collection of various sections
I indulge in mild beverage
And still find no quenching
The deep cleft of my harmed surface.