Bethany Maxwell

Bethany Maxwell Poems

I sit and watch as the flames lick at the bricks
The red, and orange tipped beauty
The tongues of fury lick
As it burns through the wood and metal preforming its duty

As you step into the arena,
Your heart rushes,
Horse following close behind,
Giving you steady nudges.

The dagger slips through the skin
You know that you will win
Oh sweet red rum
The blood drips to the ground

Silver pearls fall down her skin
She knows she must do it for she can't stay strong
For all she has to do is count to ten
She knows he's always wrong

I want to melt away into nothing,
To be a simple molecule of air,
Floating in and out of people' lives,
Without them even knowing.

She walks through the rain, the pain locked behind her cold eyes
She sees the lights of the houses, those Christmas lights,
She sees her home, no lights, no tree, it is dark and still
The rain falls on her long white hair, her white gown flowing tears stream from her eyes

You are the reason for my pain,
You are the reason I stand in the rain.

I wouldn't be here by choice,

The child sits and weeps,
How could this be all that matters,
Why did this have to hurt so deep,
How could this be life?


Every now and then,


Bring me to my knees,
In an empty stone building,
Cold walls around my heart,
Falsely beautiful light of stained glass on my face,


Listen to the vines with the thorns
For they are the tricksters
Listen to their wisdom

As I sit and wait time is all I have to save
For in life all I am is a slave
To those who search for death

A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death

The pain she felt was behind her eyes
The eyes that were once the clear blue skys
Her face is clouded and dark
You can tell sorrow has left it's mark.

Drive a little slower,
Take a look around,
Remember the houses,
The yellow stripes of time.

(His smile wide his teeth shining
as he stood with the bright guitar in his hand.)

As he lays in the casket some month later

They retreat from the past
For they know they shall never forget, it will never pass
As those they love shelter behind whats to come
For from the bottle of pain they take some

You walk in the door no one does anything
Your walk to your room without a word
They say nothing
Their silence is the wound, it is the sword

My world is caged in,
I can not fly away,
I can not soar in the clouds,
With the wind and the angels.

The heat begins as the movement starts,
Two bodies, two hearts,
One place, one dream,
The sweat becoming a steady stream.

Bethany Maxwell Biography

Hello I am Bethany Maxwell, I live in the US, and I am entering my second year of college. I: write, play 5 instruments, I also enjoy acting. I love spending time with the people who matter most to me. In kindergarden I was a social flower, but I slowly grew out of my social self, I am happy in my circle. I have just transferred schools and changed my major to Sociology. I love music I wouldnt be able to live without it! I am always listening to music of some kind. I write constantly! I write poetry a lot I have about 300 poems that I have written. I am working on getting a lot of them on here. well thats a little about me :) If you want to e-mail me feel free to email me at this address:

The Best Poem Of Bethany Maxwell

Soul Of Flames

I sit and watch as the flames lick at the bricks
The red, and orange tipped beauty
The tongues of fury lick
As it burns through the wood and metal preforming its duty

The red hipmotizing, the orange bright
I watch the light fill the black
What a wonderful sight
Bringing the memories back

The house falls to pieces as I sit and stare
My tears falling to the ground
My eyes filled whith the flames glare
My tears fall to the ground without a sound

I sit and watch as the flames lick at the bricks
The red, and orange tipped with beauty
The flames swirl and mix
As I sit in silence intranced with love and lust

The flames so wonderful so bright
The night dark as coal
My eyes filled with stars, with light
The flames licking at my soul

Bethany Maxwell Comments

Sylvia Frances Chan 04 October 2021

CONGRATULATIONS dear Bethany being chosen as The Poet Of The Day TODAY. Most deserving! Keep writing your poems, dear Poetess!

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Ramesh Rai 03 September 2013

within her teen age Bethany has shown her great talent. keep it up

1 0 Reply
Greenwolfe 1962 20 April 2008

Bethany is a talented young writer who is capable of penning a masterpiece of poetry and short prose. This is saying a lot because few are as capable as she is in this regard. That is her quality. But the thing which gives her a special place of recognition is how she has defined herself by her works. Her definition, is by topic. Her topic is 'Life, in the Company of Death.' She, is a philosopher on this. And on this, she has much to say. A topic most grim and displeasing to many; it is to her a musical drama that ingnites all our senses and inflames our heart and preserves our soul for a better place that leaves all our fears behind and our love streched into eternity. Greenwolfe 1962

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