Poems Inspired by Edna St. Vincent Millay
#EdnaStVincentMillay
Poems inspired by the American poet, playwright and feminist activist Edna St. Vincent Millay. Here you'll find poetry using the style, themes or characters found in poems written by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Along with poems about Millay herself, including praise, criticism and tributes.
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
31st Jul 2020 4:49am
31st Jul 2020 4:49am
If Still Your Orchards Bear (The Apple Tree)
The apple tree grew tall and thin,
The apples small and sour,
Yet full of leaves the chipping bark
Came late to meet the hour --
Ever nearer to its fate;
Apples unfit to reach a plate.
Its only nourishment above:
A clear loft moon devoid of love.
Should the tender leave the trees,
The orchard only filled with bees
In blossoms full open to pollinate
Would not they were so free.
A tree departs from the full and sweet,
Remembers red around its feet --
Does not look back in vain,
But...
The apples small and sour,
Yet full of leaves the chipping bark
Came late to meet the hour --
Ever nearer to its fate;
Apples unfit to reach a plate.
Its only nourishment above:
A clear loft moon devoid of love.
Should the tender leave the trees,
The orchard only filled with bees
In blossoms full open to pollinate
Would not they were so free.
A tree departs from the full and sweet,
Remembers red around its feet --
Does not look back in vain,
But...
#trees
#LifeCycle
#EdnaStVincentMillay
519 reads
4 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
29th Jul 2020 4:34am
29th Jul 2020 4:34am
Time Heals but Remembering...
In old photographs I remember pain,
Of love and lust lost through those early years,
And though the wounds have healed cruel scars remain,
Like mementos of harsh and acid tears.
Now in silence I weep for that young man,
Reading the coded verses from his past,
With each rhyme I become more of a fan,
When he swore his emotions were so vast.
But looking back now I feel like a fool,
For having such an imagination,
At least I hurt softly and played it cool,
Thinking it was more of a fixation.
I still have memories to burn and singe, ...
Of love and lust lost through those early years,
And though the wounds have healed cruel scars remain,
Like mementos of harsh and acid tears.
Now in silence I weep for that young man,
Reading the coded verses from his past,
With each rhyme I become more of a fan,
When he swore his emotions were so vast.
But looking back now I feel like a fool,
For having such an imagination,
At least I hurt softly and played it cool,
Thinking it was more of a fixation.
I still have memories to burn and singe, ...
#love
#lust
#TimeHeals
#obsession
#EdnaStVincentMillay
598 reads
4 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
27th Jul 2020 9:55am
27th Jul 2020 9:55am
Miscarriage
It was as if; we held a new born gift
but there were tears that stung inside
the uncorked purity but lost it's pop and fizz
sour taste, the tang that dents your pride
Acid vapour, the smell of hate it crept
tarnished rings worn, purity in doubt
as fractured heart: under carpet swept
expectancy that withered with each flout
"Whatever" just a meaningless defence
the loss of closeness, abandoned soft affection
just alone in that lament
stillborn child delivered by C section
( ashes of life)
but there were tears that stung inside
the uncorked purity but lost it's pop and fizz
sour taste, the tang that dents your pride
Acid vapour, the smell of hate it crept
tarnished rings worn, purity in doubt
as fractured heart: under carpet swept
expectancy that withered with each flout
"Whatever" just a meaningless defence
the loss of closeness, abandoned soft affection
just alone in that lament
stillborn child delivered by C section
( ashes of life)
#heartbroken
#EdnaStVincentMillay
482 reads
5 Comments
Josh
Joshua Bond
Joshua Bond
Poem Published
23rd Jul 2020 10:24pm
23rd Jul 2020 10:24pm
Gogyoshi Poem, Nr.03 — Undiscovered Roses
Star petals litter the ground
like exhausted angels and homeless people,
their avant-garde beauty reduced
to the boiled purity of an impassioned plea:
don’t cut me with anything less than perfect.
like exhausted angels and homeless people,
their avant-garde beauty reduced
to the boiled purity of an impassioned plea:
don’t cut me with anything less than perfect.
#dreams
#LifeStruggles
#HumanRights #EdnaStVincentMillay
#HumanRights #EdnaStVincentMillay
551 reads
6 Comments
EdibleWords
Poem Published
16th Jul 2020 3:34pm
16th Jul 2020 3:34pm
If You Get Mad it Means I’m Right - a Game
If I defame you’re character
- call you a rapist
You getting mad means I’m right
- swap that out for any other offense
Remember it’s only
natural to get mad
when you are hurt...
it shouldn’t hurt
to be called human slime!
Doesn’t that make sense!?
Fragility to accusatory
generalizations
is just evidence of guilt
not indignation at
dangerous lies
...because hell
what’s so bad
about being rejected
and despised? ...
- call you a rapist
You getting mad means I’m right
- swap that out for any other offense
Remember it’s only
natural to get mad
when you are hurt...
it shouldn’t hurt
to be called human slime!
Doesn’t that make sense!?
Fragility to accusatory
generalizations
is just evidence of guilt
not indignation at
dangerous lies
...because hell
what’s so bad
about being rejected
and despised? ...
#sadness
#EdnaStVincentMillay
638 reads
4 Comments
AspergerPoet56
Poem Published
4th Jul 2020 11:24am
4th Jul 2020 11:24am
If Edna Wrote
We say circumstance, as if it where designed
Chaos in the wind. Is but seeds of revolution
History in books are nothing, statues remind
Is our guilt ridden cleansing, a right solution
Our love of humankind diminished, till recent times
Unjust blood spilled, dubbed hate crimes
We create the fuel, in how its taught
Innocence never dies, its a slow torturous rot
In ignoring it, the cancer grew not undetected
Ostriches head buried in sand, not affected
Protesting parades, with rage and violence
His death viewed,...
Chaos in the wind. Is but seeds of revolution
History in books are nothing, statues remind
Is our guilt ridden cleansing, a right solution
Our love of humankind diminished, till recent times
Unjust blood spilled, dubbed hate crimes
We create the fuel, in how its taught
Innocence never dies, its a slow torturous rot
In ignoring it, the cancer grew not undetected
Ostriches head buried in sand, not affected
Protesting parades, with rage and violence
His death viewed,...
#EdnaStVincentMillay
550 reads
17 Comments
Tallen
earth_empath
earth_empath
Poem Published
2nd Jul 2020 7:10pm
2nd Jul 2020 7:10pm
Dusk in the Desert
I swear, this summer’s sun
still scorches close to night
as I must have been the wettest there
returning home from my desert hike!
Got to take photos of desert fare;
saw a monster, orange and black
looked no worse for wear
nor thirsty for a damp redact!
Getting difficult now for me to see
few streetlamps light my way
relying on starlight skies for me
‘fore denizens emerge to play.
still scorches close to night
as I must have been the wettest there
returning home from my desert hike!
Got to take photos of desert fare;
saw a monster, orange and black
looked no worse for wear
nor thirsty for a damp redact!
Getting difficult now for me to see
few streetlamps light my way
relying on starlight skies for me
‘fore denizens emerge to play.
#myself
#desert
#DeepUndergroundPoetry #EdnaStVincentMillay
#DeepUndergroundPoetry #EdnaStVincentMillay
765 reads
30 Comments
JohnnyBlaze
Poem Published
2nd Jul 2020 12:48pm
2nd Jul 2020 12:48pm
[ CC ] ("What is dead may never die!")
What is dead may never die! declaringly bemoan
cast members in "Game Of Thrones" awaringly not
they are next to be made into fishbait, then bone
by cahooted politicians cabaled who nefariously plot
treason every season after season numbering seven;
what is unformulaic may never be foreseen is a lie!
I binged. When finished, watched it again. And again
knowing who'd be blood pudding and mincemeat pie
Why?! am I wasting my time with this digital dross?
Is it because of...
cast members in "Game Of Thrones" awaringly not
they are next to be made into fishbait, then bone
by cahooted politicians cabaled who nefariously plot
treason every season after season numbering seven;
what is unformulaic may never be foreseen is a lie!
I binged. When finished, watched it again. And again
knowing who'd be blood pudding and mincemeat pie
Why?! am I wasting my time with this digital dross?
Is it because of...
#death
#dragons
#EdnaStVincentMillay
539 reads
3 Comments
Ahavati
Poem Published
1st Jul 2020 9:11pm
1st Jul 2020 9:11pm
Seedlings
( after Edna St Vincent Millay )
First Seedling
Love is to the Spirit
as a seedling to earth—
both take root and flourish;
or, wither on rocky soil
Second Seedling
You can hide your candle under a bushel;
but, risk burning your entire abode. . .
~
First Seedling
Love is to the Spirit
as a seedling to earth—
both take root and flourish;
or, wither on rocky soil
Second Seedling
You can hide your candle under a bushel;
but, risk burning your entire abode. . .
~
#spiritual
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
#philosophical
#EdnaStVincentMillay
1306 reads
31 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems Inspired by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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