Free Poems - Written at Age 21

Free Poems - Written at Age 21

Elf Songs

I stand alone
Beside the sea.
I watch the winds
Who follow me.

Stars are silent
In my heart,
And the whole world
Stands apart.

I sing softly
To myself,
Humming elf songs
From the shelf.

People glance at
Me and frown,
Puzzled, frightened.
I look down.

People pass me
By and they
Cannot grasp me
Look away.

Sometimes someone
Looks at me and
Wonders, waits.

Sometimes I hold
Out my hand,
With myself
Inside it and

Hope somebody
Saying this is
Who I am.

Very rarely
Someone sees me,
And I barely
Feel it frees me.

They perceive the
Hopes I haunt.
They believe the
Worlds I want.

Warily I
Squint and smile.
Someone loves me
For awhile.

Then they see the
Things in me
Who I beguile,

And they tire of
How I grieve,
Lost like madness,
And they leave.

I sing softly
By myself,
Placing pledges
On the shelf.

Putting promises
People say them.
They don't stay.

Watch the sky
Grow bright and blue.
I don't want to
Frighten you.

Watch the worlds
Whisk words away.
Don't believe
The things you say.

I grow guarded --
Build a wall
Of smiles and irony.
I fall

Friendless, free
Into the far
And foreign sea
Of who you are.
And watch a star.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems


You dream a dream,
And bathe your toes
In scarlet flows
Of icy streams.
It softly glows
Upon your knee,
For your heart knows
A dream is free.

It glitters, plays,
It makes you smile.
You waste all day,
You sit awhile.
And watch it quote
Quite quietly
Words you once spoke
Before you woke
So silently.

The turquoise sea
Is far away.
The forest trees
Have naught to say,
And no disease
Can make you die
When you have dreams
Who love the sky.

A dream believes
But never wonders,
Never grieves;
It breathes, it thunders.

It turns and twirls,
And entrances
Wavering worlds,
Because it dances.

You sometimes cry
About your dreams,
Because they die
Because they seem
To bend the breeze,
And dance upon
The quiet trees,
And then they're gone.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems

Mermaid Poem

Fifty-five years ago
Under the sea,
A long-lost companion,
Remembering me,
Glanced over her shoulder,
And murmured a sigh.
The water grew colder.
She saw the sky.
She saw breath in my heart,
And she took in her tail,
Swam to the surface
And searched for a sail
A ship she remembered
For eight thousand years...
After I slipped afar,
Drowning in tears.

I was too far away,
Dark and deprived.
Russia was dying and
I was alive.

I only have shadows;
Dim memories.
Eight thousand years ago
In the deep seas,
Cold in half consciousness,
Startled to be
Born in a body and
Flung in the sea.
We seduced sailors with
Nowhere to go.
...What I remember
Defies what I know.

In the dull days
Of 6000 BC,
Worn by the ways
Of the deep turquoise sea,
Perched on a stone,
I laughed and splashed you.
We were alone.
My whole heart thrashed you.
My whole heart threw you
Grieving to hell.
You say I knew you.
I knew you too well.

If mermaids are miracles,
What do I see
...When I remember
6000 BC.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems


When I was very young
I knew
The songs I'd sung,
The color blue.

I lived to love.
I lived to write.
I looked above
Into the night.

I would part
The winds, and pass...
And my heart
Was made of glass.

My face was pale
But filled with fire.
My feet were frail,
But they desired

To feel the day,
The soil, the stone;
Pretending they
Were not alone.

I saw myself
Inside the sky.
I was alone there,
So I cried.

The river mocked
The petty frantic
Way I thought
And the romantic
Way I talked
The dreams I sought,
The streets I walked.

I smiled, I sighed,
I wished in fountains
Almost died
Inside the mountains.

I lost my heart,
When I was young.
I fell apart.
My life grew numb.

I could not say
What filled my head;
The words that lay
Within my heart.
My lips were dry,
My fingers dead.

When I was young
I found myself,
Somewhere, hidden
On a shelf.

I breathed belief.
I broke in two.
I sighed relief
When I saw you.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems

Spanish Highways

I heard you haunting me.
I heard my past,
And the wind wanting me.
I left at last.

I hummed to heaven
With little to lose
Walking and watching
My brown leather shoes,

Along Spanish highways,
Too tired not to smile.
Orchards of olives
Draped mile after mile.

At the side of the road,
With my scarf and my tie,
And my feet growing cold,
As the sun lost the sky,

I trembled silently,
Frightened and free.
I slept on Christmas Eve
Under a tree.

I saw the moon
In the dark and cold sky.
I spoke too soon,
And the feeling flew by.

I lay alone
On the cold orchard ground,
Solid like stone...
As my world turned around.

I gathered dew
From the cold morning grass.
I thought of you,
And I let the thought pass.

Sometimes I dreamed
I might finally find you,
Far as you seemed,
At least to remind you.

At the side of the road,
With my scarf and my tie,
And my feet growing cold
And my heart in the sky.

At the side of my life,
With my famine and fear,
And my eyes on my knife,
As the future grew near;

With my feet in a stream
Of water and scars,
Living a dream
And sleeping in cars,

I sang of sadness and
Traveling shoes,
Murmuring mystery,
Singing the blues.

Next to a gas pump,
I sat and cried,
On the wrong highway,
Wanting a ride.

Maybe the music that
Lives in your voice
Fell back inside me and
I had a choice.

I turned and fled my fears.
I found the feeling.
I chose to work for years
Under a ceiling.

I found a scarf lying
Black on the pavement.
I found a tie after
Years of enslavement.

I put my scarf away
Under a bed.
I chose to learn, and stay...
And my heart bled.

Sometimes I stand by the
Window at night,
Watching the highway stretch
Out of my sight.

And the wind watches me
Lingering at last.
I sing the songs you see
Inside my past.

And the breeze breathes across;
Tickles my face;
Whispers, reminds me that
One day, someplace,

I'll stand with you again
In your heart's heat.
...I'll feel the highway stretch
Under my feet.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems


In Xinjiang the world is dry.
The mountains scrape the bright blue sky
With lifeless peaks of solid stone,
And I amongst strangers, was never alone.

There, the oases , their streets full of trees
And bagels and children, were life at its knees...
Where things could be bought, where no one had seen
Someone like I was, when I was eighteen.

The desert men, whose tired old eyes
Gazed with faintly veiled surprise,
Scrutinized my dim disguise
And made my memories despise
Nights I'd trembled, days I'd cried,
Tears I'd wasted, drowned inside
Years of shame and broken pride.

They gazed without mercy, their eyes breathing fire,
Dark like the gypsies of seething desire.
They followed my footsteps, they swallowed my breath,
They bathed in my shadows, entreated my death.

I met the men of paradise
Upon a sea of amber ice...
Traveling with the turning tide.
But I dared to dive inside
The fading lives, before they died.

I sat for hours and watched and heard
Every whisper, every word
Of broken, barely breathing stories,
Stained in pain and worthless glories.

In Xinjiang, I cast my eyes
Easily upon the skies,
And I tore my life apart.
I glanced within a broken heart.
I breathed upon the burning bars
And made myself a sea of stars.

Beyond the far side of the sky,
Half forgotten, faded, far,
There lies a land where shadows die...
Beyond the winds that sweep the stars.

Be it home or be it heaven,
It lies loved, or lost, forgiven.
You may recall, but though I try
I've music for a memory.
I only search myself and sigh.

I only wish I still were free.
I only wish I could remember
The meaning of the mystery,
The meaning of my Red November,
Who haunts and holds my history.

Beauty breathes in every glance
You care to cast on earth or sea,
And all your life becomes a dance
If you decide it ought to be.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems


Since the sadly silent lives
Of faded men, your voice revives.
And the sight of God was naught
Compared to what your knowledge brought
To broken men, the world around...
Hold your feet upon the ground.

Might your memories refrain
From repeating one soul's name,
Who so long ago has left?
Must you yet remain bereft?

As the answers you once yearned
Have been conquered, have been learned,
You would turn your head in Treason
If you wept now, without reason
If you bent your head in shame
And succumbed to earthly pain.

Look beyond the blue horizon.
Steel yourself don't gasp and grieve,
If you dare to cast your eyes on
Laughter; if you dare believe
In anything you yearn to be,
In any chance you choose to take;
If you believe you can be free;
If you've a promise left to break.
I won't forget. I can't allow,
At all eternities expense,
My broken heart to whisper now
And shatter me with innocence.

If I met truth and turned away
And left the world to sink in slavery,
I would have nothing left to say ...
I would have no words left to write,
And my whole life would be a lie.
... And here I fight, and here I fight.
I shan't allow my world to die.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems

The Stars

The stars are just planets
And suns far away.
They're not something you can dance on.
They don't talk to you.
They don't shimmer, smiling,
And listen to you pray
Or hear a word you say,
Or make your wishes come true.
They're just suns and planets;
They're not to skip and prance on.
You can't. They're pieces of light.
Not something to give your friend
When you walk at night.
They aren't something you can send.
They can't hold the future
Or warm you when you're cold, alone -
Or protect you in the dark.
They're only stars
From somewhere far away and stark,
And cold and lonely.
The stars are fire and old, like stone.
They don't revive
Dead hearts they're only
Sparks and suns. They aren't alive.
They don't watch you sleep.

When you're away,
The stars sometimes weep.
The stars sometimes pray...
And look at the earth,
Finding the future there,
Wondering the worth;
Wondering the hope
Of salvation from hell;
Weaving a rope.
Breaking the spell.

The stars are just firelight,
We see them at night.
They don't live, or smile, or bring
Beauty or truth.
They can't really twinkle, sing,
Or return youth.
They can't breathe or whisper.
They don't know how to cry.
They won't remember you, and sigh.
They just inhabit the sky.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems


The sea was stone.
The year was grey.
That night had grown,
Beneath the day.
I breathed the white light
Of the sea,
And watched the ocean
Follow me,
Where I wandered,
Far and free,
Living like a

Deep within the
Desert plains
And up beyond the
Forest rains,
To a land of
Ice and sky,
Where men with dreams
Could go to die,
We sailed quietly
By night
Until half blue
Morning light.

I had a prayer.
I had a dream
I dared not strengthen
With a scheme,
Because I feared
It would not be,
Because I was not
Really free.

I was burdened
With the weight
Of hurt and heartbreak,
And my fate.

So I stumbled
Through the air,
And I had more
Than my share
Of goodbyes.
I lived a life
That fought with lies.

The everyday graces
Of far away places
Fell inside me,
And I learned to be
Coldly chameleon,
Painted vermillion.
Disguised myself well,
Hidden in Hell.

Now I remember,
And now I begin.
I drown the ember
Of my own sin.

I hear our voices,
Glowing and grown.
These are our choices
These are our own.

Would you like
To dive inside
Amber oceans,
And decide
To desire
To mend the pain,
And ease the fire
Make earth sane.

...Dancing in dangers
Who haunt every breath
Delivering strangers
From lingering death.

I'll stay 'till I know,
Then I shall return
To where I must go,
Because I burn,
Because I yearn to
Be free and alone,
And I will learn to
Be, on seas of stone.

In early morning,
While twelve stars wilt,
We sense a warning --
Watching Time tilt.

We see disaster
On the horizon.
We travel faster,
Keeping our eyes on
A mountain of magic,
A mountain of sky,
And on each other.
We'll never die.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems


Sometimes the night time makes music of me,
Sometimes it passes me by
Bending the waves with the winds of the sea,
Whispering into the sky.

Sometimes I lie awake under the black
Blanket of darkness and stars,
Wondering whether I'll ever be back,
Wishing to be where you are.

Sometimes I look at you, light years away,
Lying awake in the night.
Sometimes I'm silent with nothing to say,
Living in lingering light.

Sometimes I see myself, lost and alone,
Seemingly sleeping at last.
Sometimes my dreams dance on cities of stone,
Murmuring words of my past.

Barefoot and breathlessly watching the world,
Innocent, armed with a prayer,
Dreaming, and deathlessly dancing, I twirled,
Into the amethyst air,

Into the vaults of the varying sky,
Woundlessly windswept and strong,
Feeling the faults of the world in my sigh,
Breathing a barely-born song.

I believed beautifully, burning and blind,
I could float foreign and free.
I moved the memories of my own mind.
Music was magic to me.

I dove, like diamond dust, into the dark
Depths of a dim deathless lie,
Watching the light lurking over the arc
Of the escapable sky.

Sometimes I stand by the window at night,
Searching the stars above Rome.
Sometimes I breathe 'neath the broken and bright
Boundary between here and home.

Sometimes I free the fire into my eyes.
Galaxies grow in my heart.
I see the death of the despair I despise.
Lifetimes of tears tear apart.

When I remember what we used to be
And when I dream and decide,
And I imagine the future is free,
I feel like music inside.

Written by Anna Williams at age 21
Free Poems

See Also:


From Me

Blue Roses



manystories said...

Spanish Highways is one of my favorites. I still get some tears and a lump in my throat. I don't know if the emotional impact comes only from the poem or partly from knowing Anna and what she was doing at the time. I do love to read this over, from time to time.

writerwoman said...

When mountains, magenta and molded
Turn red,
Like you said,
You'll find the feeling you folded
Not dead.

I really like that part of that poem. It could be a song, with the way it is lyrical, symbolic and thought provoking.

writerwoman said...

Welcome to The Heart of a Poet- I Promise Blogroll.

Anna said...

Thank you! I hoped that one would be kind of universal...

writerwoman said...

They perceive the
Hopes I haunt.

What a beautiful line! It has a certain resonance to it, an echo, as they see you and that reflects back onto you.


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