Delilah Miller

Delilah Miller Poems

Blue sky,
blue sky.

Looking at you, wishing the day by.

So good to be home
and out of the heat.
All those excess people reminded I'm alone
as I explored the busy Chicago streets.

A poetess can be wasteful when it comes to love.
She'll wade and wallow
through the waterfalls below and above.
She'll sip big for ability's sake and swallow.

He has an appetite
sweet to satisfy.
But he's so distant and curt,
with painful goodbyes.

Over the short years,
we've fired comments at each other
that were like deadly darts
in the skin of some clever animal,

Thanks to Ivan Donn Carswell for all his help and corrections. He's an amazing poet, happens to be posted on this site; look him up.

The music stretched out its notes;

It seems that when I was at my busiest point,
treading water in this chaotic sea of estrogen,
(that is my life)
you managed to waste my time,

We had this priest come and talk to us on the feast day of St. Joseph and so strangely he mentioned a girl would know the right guy because he'd be willing to sacrifice his dreams for hers and for God's. Not only am I not a god, requiring sacrifice, but my dreams so often don't follow the path I imagine God would dream of. I suppose, at one point, it's Him or me.

Seven deadly pink roses waiting on my windowsill;

I am a sidewalk that cannot handle another footstep;
A bone that is too weak to be broken
because it halted growth and from motion is kept.
And I'm the game machine spitting out tokens.

Chemistry class, block two
consists of electrons, Mendeleev's table and a few beakers.
The room is surrounded, right across the hall
are the religion class and the student speakers.

My body is weak and unprepared.
A baby feeding off me?
Will I survive the gluttony and vanity?
So I flood myself

For new possibilities
new people,
new places,
there must be a new age.

My art teacher skirts around me,
makes a Jimi Hendrix joke
and keeps his eyes down.
The paintings of red women,

Yes, it's not what people like to hear and yes, it's bad to be cynical. But I'm allowed my moments of doubt. In any case, I'm still a total flirt.

No one can catch a break,

It's not too 'poetic' but it's what I was thinking in my head and as much as some sanctimonious, impractical writers would pretend, I don't think in poems

Teeth pull the words back;
I've just bit my tongue!

When is that last glimmering ray of sunlight
shining in to illuminate that last corner?
When is that last piece that actually fits right
falling into place, the puzzle-joiner?

A smile on a glowing face.
How many people have felt content
and never said a word out loud?
How many of us tell the world our malcontent

Have you ever seen the sky,
when it's gourging with love
that clouds cover it
and the stars

To all my conquests, past, present and future.

My coffee cup's a lighter shade of blue this morning.

I don't know the name,
or purpose,
of that voice climbing out of you,
with its claws digging into the rocky wall of your throat.

Delilah Miller Biography

'The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.' -Walt Whitman I think writing is my way of keeping it simple, of being honest with myself.)

The Best Poem Of Delilah Miller


Blue sky,
blue sky.

Looking at you, wishing the day by.

Blue sky,
purple sky.

Storm coming in, here it is, there's the eye.

Blue sky,
grey sky.

The earth is wailing, the thunder yells, and the clouds cry.

Blue sky,
grey sky,
black sky.

Tore away at the moon, swallowed stars, listened to the sun die.

Black sky
Green sky
Orange sky
Red sky
Pink and yellow and mean sky.

Come on and roll in; it's only in my mind.

Delilah Miller Comments

Ivan Donn Carswell 19 August 2008

Delilah Miller is a promising young poet. She is imaginative and uses excellent descriptive skills coupled with fine poetic insight. I recommend a close watch on her writing, she is truly on the move! Rgds, Ivan

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Thad Wilk 08 September 2007

I enjoyed reading your poem (Hopeful) it all came together excellently! ! Thad

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Kyle Harbinger 04 July 2007

Reading your poetry is so refreshing- keep doin' what you're doin'!

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Aron Heroux 10 December 2006

You've got a lot of passion burning in you. Does it show, or is it contained quietly in your writing? Either way, I think there's honesty in your fire. Kudos.

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