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Best Poems Written by Autumn Ehrhardt

Below are the all-time best Autumn Ehrhardt poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Prose Is My Devil.

I believe prose is the devil,
The page is too large with detailed explanation.
A herring that is hungry for details and plot lines.
A parasite that taunts me.

I am in love with the poem,
The page is concise with word paint.
A butterfly kiss on a lilac desiring immediate nectar.
A lover that teases me.

For the verse is easier quest
For the moment bound
the present beloved
the feeling liver.
The solemn sinner.

I believe prose is the worthy prince,
The one with the page and the avid reader.
A well educated monarch on a lofty peak.
A soon king that rejects me.

I am in love with the unattainable,
The poem's black heart.
An ignorant fool who understands
A line left open.

For freedom is heartbreak
For the doomed spirit
the critically judged
the cursed be-er
The chosen loner

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Human Vessel, Daily 14

14:Passages plot themselves on maps
To get you somewhere.
Pour your soul into a hollow vessel
For the archaeologist to find.
To replicate each moment’s sound
Will never bring satisfaction
perhaps exaggerate boredom
Definitely annoy reactions
Because the vessel's form is unnecessary
There is no catch-all for past rains.

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Speak To Me With Light

He winces contritely,
The new silver in his hair 
Is only a wise light.
I try not notice for only
He is only my life.

I stare with abandon,
My wine glass
And how it fills red, violet, white
And can only be the vessel for reflection
The filament spreads evenly
And this liquid delights.

I retrace the warmth of the quiet
To the long mountain road at midnight 
The trees in the headlights
The thick forest blackness
Hours of clean air
I crack the car window
Freezing July tonight.

It is longer than expected,
But I know how to wait.
No longer a wispy maiden with eyes of dread.
Life is this heartbeat 
He glances at me often on the curvaceous up climb
Our mature honeymoon 
Captured in memories' sight.

I tell him this is a good place to stop.
It is frightening to be at the top of the wilderness in the cold,
But be bold for the cosmos has an order
That fills every space with spectacle,
In the pitch, there is no interference.
No glaring light bulbs or street signs.
Only creation's windows.

He winds me into his arms, 
Our celestial bodies are now the heat
Against the shiver--Death's  a small disturbance
Speak to me with light my love
For existence only 
When the only cover for sleep will be these stars.

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The Shop, Daily 28

28.
So this is the  little shop
That you wish to stake your claim
Fill your precious storehouse
With sundries and fame.

So this is the commercial alter
That you pray to every night
Sell your cheap drink umbrellas
Hit on miracle sprites.

So this is the fun palace
That you built upon the sand
Worry not about foundation
Spit irreverently on its land.

So this is your soul’s investment
That you spend hours at play
Kill your own profit
Push eternal life away.

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Choice Dealer, Daily 2

2: You are sad: admit it
Failure can’t break you.
You set the pace for the new deal
And giggled at the tired choice dealer.
Over paid and under appreciated--we negotiate
But not for the caring-
But for the price
The price of the first failure was too outrageous.

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Not Needing a Meeting, Daily 31

31.
Some work day mornings just fill with sour time.
The evenness of the florescent lights is annoying
I see all the familiar faces hating every moment along with me.
A department meeting, how horrifying.

The common voices outlining choices--that have nothing to do with you
Blacken and blue, I must stomach this painful gathering of shrews 
A pressured push in the brain
To not let this  poison my day
I rely on pleasant memories to carry me away:
The last cherished talk, the phone message from a friend.
I really can’t wait for this meeting to end.

Now my agitation has been noticed.
I am not paying attention--thinking about folly and Ben.
The expression on my face shows rejection
Can she see my recollection of the last time we met?
Crap now I am found out; she must be judging what my whole life is about.

Turn toward her stare, show sincerity and care
Easy now tiger-- and smile--give the moment awhile.
Save face, my Japanese ancestors would say.
I am disciplined, this is work--not time to play.
Don’t let distraction make you her prey.

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Bad Dream, Daily 1

1:  A bad dream will protrude in the new light
And the first conscious breathe will lapse,
Until the warm air of morning kills the night.

The dark images now simmer but not burn.
And the chaser and the tormentor must wait,
Until the moon composes the next nocturne.

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The Little Daily 25

The little
That second
That tiny look
That burns a hole
That insignificant tolerance
That brings a daily peace
That puny joke
That makes a giggle
That serious moment
That forces a choice
The little makes a big impact.

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Crystal and Dust, Daily 24

24:Drops of color splinter from the crystal’s sharp edges--
From the hard clearness,
Blue splays
Orange dances
Green jumps
Purple plays
As yellow mellows
Down the hot day.
Even through the dust
that filters light’s passage,
Rainbow’s essence delights the ceiling.
Beams win against a decade of unwashed window.

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Early May Morning, Daily 27

26.
The low level haze
Carries the smell of smoke superbly.
The morning cooled daze
Leaves no room for joking.
Silence flies a dove.

The May early Sunday
Marries the peace of two lovingly.
No serendipitous replays
Sighs for attention provoking
Reverence stays above.

The grayness of this sky
Expires the normal jests remarkably
The quiet does not lie
Takes no verse evoking
Guidance He is love.