Poems About Edna St Vincent Millay by Top Critiquers

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, ...

( 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. . .  
 
~

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,...

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.  
  
 

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...