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Best Poems Written by Sarah Yaelle

Below are the all-time best Sarah Yaelle poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

As If Speaking This Way Would Reach You

Why must I speak, fair one?
For I must only be here
and near you to know your color.
Let me trace only my eyes.
I’m figuring your splendor.

And when the key clicks,
will thee know thine secrets?
I keep them behind my lips
and I swallow them down,
only to gaze for and ever.

I sing these words now
with pen and ink and leaf.
I write and string my song for you.
It is the loudest quiet—
I am the book and you the keeper.

Whilst the atmosphere hums violently,
my irises engraved with a spell,
I am unable to look away from thee;
an aura I cannot escape.
Even now, my mind, a prisoner.

But when I must speak, fair one,
for it is you who must be my undoer.
Figure me, if you must.			
Break my gaze, remind my soul,
so that you may know thine color.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2017



Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

Remember This

My mind was trying
To make fantasies
Of my memories.
But struth,
For me
I would rather live
In reality
Than seek a land
Of fading things.
My mind's eye
Now sees the world
With a welcoming
Hoping this reality
Surpasses dreaming.
Remember this, I plead.
One can get lost
In a place
They never wish
To leave.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2018

Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

Microwave

The cursed, blessed thing.
My Detriment Machine.
With this, to you, I cling.
My fear resides in the timer ring.

Because of this, we can renew.
Rekindle fires that once were true.
And although my pointer is black and blue,
I have yet to give up the warmth of you.

At first, I knew of no such thing.
But down on your knees, level with thee,
You looked into my eyes and gave me the key,
And showed me the castle of which you are the king.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

Color Me Insane

I have to take my pill tonight.
It does not want to go down.
It does not want to see me sane.
It wants my balloons to pop
And my colors to cascade
Off of my walls
And from my eyes.
Shades that you’ve never seen before.
I’ll tell you stories of a lore
In which I dwelled
Not long ago
But, it was
“Once upon a time.”
It shouldn’t have existed.
But in time,
It took hold of me.
A fantasy beyond what the mind can see.
A garden of places you’ll never be.
A blindfold
Of mystery.

There was a girl that held the stars.
And a demon that held her heart.
That drove her to live in a cage,
Which he held in the palm of the dark.
And she shined,
But resided in
A colorless mess
Of wandering,
And now I am here
Because of them.
The lore of a
Bird in a
Cage.

I’m sure you can see
It caged me too.
I’m all over the place.
I want to escape.
And have a petting zoo,
And a pool of tea,
And a jar of dreams,
And a cup of you,
Deep breath.

For this is why I take these pills.
They do not want to go down.
They do not want to see me sane.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

Every Single Day

Every day I walk with people.
Maybe not side by side,
Maybe not in the same stride,
But we are walking step by step.
Together.
To reach
To find
Our own stars
In our own time.
We all speak to each other
Every single day.
Either through a glance
Or through not giving one.
Every single day
We all say
“I am finding my place.”

Every day I dwell in a hall.
Where no one even has to sing
Or play a note with a string
To hear a melodious tune.
It’s where many
Become
One voice.
Filled with a sound
I’ll never forget.
I imagine
Every single day
What my life would be like
Without this music.
Every single day
My life is made
A stage, a song, a story.

Every day I see a star.
One with a face, a name, a heart
And although this one is not afar
I am lost in trying to find it.
Spoken words
Mean so much
Until
You aren’t the only one 
That hears them.
I gaze and gaze
Every single day
With hope to know its light
And that it would know mine also.
My every single day
Is made of these things
And I didn't even know.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2018



Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

Dear Flower

Color and scent
So hard to forget.
Yet I am persistent so
Trying to dim this heart's glow.

Although I still clutch
You're so hard to touch,
So with frail hands I reach
Calling out with soft speech.

I want to hold you,
But you don't have a clue.
This letter I write
So that I may be in your sight.

My Flower is a star.
I am near yet afar.
Now I sadly regret
In lonely retrospect.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2018

Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

Let Us Not Think For Once

I'll dwell with no dwelling state of mind.
Leave all of my wanderings behind.
Wonder not of your smile's taste,
But in the moment, know of its embrace.

Take me somewhere I can use my senses.
Without the price of my thoughts' expenses.
An answer I will never question.
Color I can see without inspection.

Once upon a time will not exist.
Let's kill the clocks and stop their ticks,
So that we may breathe without fear of end.
Eternity begins with us, my friend.

Release the feelings trapped within.
Held captive by fear of haunting sin.
Things seem wrong but could go right,
If for once thinking was nowhere in sight.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

Dwelling At 3am

It's 3 AM
and I'm awake
because I got too much sleep today.

I dreamt of you,
what a mistake,
because now I cannot drift away.

Now I lie here
forced to dwell
because that is how I will see.

If the feeling felt
not so long ago
is the feeling still dwelling in me.

I thought to end
this poem right there
but I have so much on my mind.

My stomach churns,
my chest, it burns.
My heart really is in a bind.

You see now
a vulnerable picture
of the girl you once treated worthwhile.

At night, I presume,
I'll yearn for you
and clutch onto what was with a smile.

I don't write what I do
to make you ache
or to curse at your beautiful name.

I write what I do
because I miss you
and it looks like you won't feel the same.

And so I dwell.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2018

Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

The Return

I have no control over me.
I walk and talk and sing and breathe,
but my soul and mind are like the sea.
I am tossed around frantically.

I sailed far from that island long ago.
My hands grabbed the oars and I began to row,
but I swear I've seen this place before.
The water is taking me to that forbidden lore.

A seagull above called my name.
He wondered why I looked so insane.
With panic, I called back up to him,
"I do not know, my lantern's dim."

I wept as I saw what the ocean stole.
My oars had floated away, I had lost control.
The shores of that island came into view,
drenched in the water of my sea, that's when I knew.

With no light left and fear of the land,
I stumbled out of my broken boat and onto the broken sand.
The weight of the past fell on top of me.
What I feared, what I missed, it all haunted me.

I never wanted to come back here.
I wanted this island to disappear.
But, it seems my sea did not agree with that.
What once was, is now right where I'm at.

The question now is, what do I do with my return?
Perhaps there is something from this island I must learn.
I may walk and talk and sing and breathe,
but I have no real control over me.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sarah Yaelle Poem

I Am Tired

As of late, my eyelids are heavy.
I am not awake. I'm trying to remain steady.
Feelings so great; my heart is not always ready.
I try to remain, but this challenge is deadly.

Into an empty screen, I continue to stare.
Looking for something that's not really there.
Reality is mean. Fantasy, a nightmare.
I tried the caffeine, yet I am asleep in this chair.

Shiver from chills, now cold and alone.
Blankets in hills, warmth still unknown.
No longer feel thrills; only fleeting dreams my mind has sewn.
Each day, my soul, kills. Slumber is all I have to call my own.

When I finally see light, it is only Your face.
Your voice, the color white, blesses me with grace.
Hold me so tight, so at last, I may bathe,
In sleep so right, lullaby me off into space.

Copyright © Sarah Yaelle | Year Posted 2018

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things