Poems by Maisen A. Hill
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
Poem
I could list the feelings I feel like But all I got is a pen, a heart, and my windpipes Been feeling confused lately and I wonder why So I will paint you a picture with this haunting lullaby. 2 am surrounded by the walls vibrating with anxiety wondering Pondering,
Poem
Who am I supposed to be? Where am I supposed to go? Why am I walking this lonely road? Why did it just get dark? Where did the light go? How am I supposed to know? When I get older I’ll run it all. When I get older I
Poem
Phenomenal vibrations coming to your location. Hypnotic control of the little voice in your dome. Captain Hook of the written word, not a thief but I’ll take your attention for a minute. Bask in how the rhythm bounces, I got limitless more I’ll pour it by the ounce.
Poem
I’m confident that my consciousness can touch every continent. Teaching how to coexist without condescending thoughts. Breaching consecrated and alienated power motivated decisions That birthed the constructed lines of divided nations. Disassemble the notion of the disabled to dissociate the belief of complacency Discombobulate misguided ideas of pray and
Poem
Maisen: understanding me is a complex desire. Maisey: If you could see clearly, You wouldn’t try to play me as a fiddle while I recite this riddle to you Maisen: I’m a multitude of compressed hidden layers Maisey: I’m a warm biscuit severed to you on Christmas
Poem
I could paint a windfall of symphonies, the gentle brushstroke against the leaves of the lonely tree. Or maybe chisel in stone a soliloquy that can mend the hearts of my enemies. Whisper a lullaby to ease the quiet ride of a solemn night, disrupting the plight of the human
Poem
The dreamer, dreams the dreams of promises unseen, Visions of a mountaintop too grand to conceive. A clear night of hollow stars whisper: An ode to the visionaries with the sights to bring bits of light, Even if it’s only seen from their cemetery. For most dreams are fully
Poem
I prefer the silence, later I'll complain it's too quiet. I’m a peacemaker at heart, but I'm not unknown to resort to violence. I keep to myself, avoiding asking for help. I keep to myself, I feel safer that way. I keep to
Poem
Who are you, just who am I You and I are intertwined in this space and time Simple beings made from cosmic dust From dusk till dawn, this life is the greatest lesson of making it along Do your dance, sing your song, life continues to move. . .forward What you
Poem
It’s a smooth cadence. An irregular tempo. Explaining is simple. The sight brings Enchanting wonders of the mind tenfold. A rise whispers to crescendo A fall that lands on the pianissimo view of a cosmic window. A repeating pattern. Truth decorated with paper lanterns. The sky dances with glimpses