Poems by Maisen A. Hill
Poem
Small feet make large craters in the streets Weakness - apparition of defeated minds Mine born to shine Tempest winds born to die Hollowed out bodies call out of divine guidance His intervention - loosened grip on responsibility for your decisions Twisted wicked intentions deceived in misguided intuitions. I heard
Poem
What is the definition of been through hurt? What is a voice that hasn’t tasted dirt? What are these systems that perpetuate curse? Who would you say has been there first? Who would you choose to ride when it's time to do what it do? Who? Is
Poem
My heart beats. Hands shake. Breathing raspy. Leg bouncing, bouncing, bouncing. Counting down the imaginary rests I want to take. My head quakes. Shake loose the negative, cling to the positive. Advice makes the result feel preposterous. A violent whisper, a brush of fear A death match fighting back a
Poem
I was dreaming when I wrote this, forgive me if I go astray She walked through the out door, she wore a raspberry beret But it was Saturday night, I guess that makes it alright And you say, “What have I got to lose” I say: Come to the park
Poem
Jimmi lived in the mountains, Anna lived in the sea. He filled his walls with pictures, She filled her hands with shells. Jimmi loved the sharp, clean air, Anna loved the way bubbles tangled in her hair. He walked the cliffside path, She swam beneath the foam. He saw the
Poem
Let’s take a minute and take a journey through the brain. Lately things have not been the same, the gale force winds of change Have jingled the chains of stagnation and humiliation. Sitting in a pitch black room, pacing in anticipation. Captivated by the world, and silence means participation
Poem
Here it is the 9th wonder of the world. Open your ears wide boys and girls. Widen your eyes - catch this mystique The mythic, mystic, prolific, rhythmic, Lullaby Surely I can relate to your terms of life Give you a series of words resembling advice And pray to the
Poem
See I wanna scream. A yell from the rooftops Screams into a void. A clutch tightens in my chest, like an old woman clutching her purse. Roar with defiance. Bellowing silence. Wailing for guidance. Howl to the moon. Raging at giants. Defying science. Can you hear me? I mean, can
Poem
When I write, I need to feel the wind in my pen To touch the unfolded stories of the blank page When I start these words, rarely do I know how to begin. In the opening I can already envision the end. Ambition’s heat building up, a raging fire
Poem
Take a minute as I kick it. Maisey Royale The voice spittin from a different dimension. Ever get that tension when you're reminiscing. Questioning every decision, searching for what was missing. Piecing together clues that don’t even be existing. Twisting memories, life gives lemons, sell lemonade. Turn
Poem
I, too, am America Once strong, now fractured, cracks in the picture frame Morals eroded, hearts corroded by shame, family drifting A love locked away, behind a glowing screen, where it quietly decays I, too, mourn the shattering of Martin’s dream In a system that sows discord, hope is
Poem
Longing is a fancy word for decimation. A mirror I run from when I should be facing it. I know truth, and truth knows me I pray to the Lord, mold me. Faith tangled between fantasy and heaven’s decree. I beg the hope I long for, don’t control