A Saturday Poem

[ from afar I fell for you ]

from afar I fell for you
at a distance counted every freckle
the small scar above your pink lip
things that would fool a microscope
I followed from a telescope distance
that cute mole stuck on your shoulder
the sweet crease inside your elbow
the ever slight cowlick above your brow
and that auburn hint in your flowing hair
sights missed by the common uninitiated
I see as lighted billboards flashing constant
decades passed all traces erased
but still your beauty remains
and I fall for you again each day

A Short Love Poem on a Thursday

close breaths draw deep these colors

close breaths draw deep these colors
that shade cool the attraction growing
in sights small want builds it’s castle
where pecks evolve in melting moisture
on fallow ground star dust seedlings
share chilly bumps an intimate soothing

 

whitesands

A Sunday Evening Poem

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The Beating Rhythm Psychotic

swirling clockwise the sands surround my head
violently throwing up a black widow brain twister
sucking at the orphaned airborne chattering near by
a taste of green drops, and catches on tongues edge
spit up ascending the ladder of the dark mass growing

yellow woven turnstiles shade broken mirrors blushing
few castaways survive the blue sharp edged slivers
a cutting positioned high slicing multiple hard wares
shaved metal showers fire the gears to slow grinding
hot the forging casts an orange tint inside quick lightning

skull bobbing and nodding a whitish poultice oozes out
backwards talking carnies run this shaky festival booth
the show, a perpetually moving storm of three card Monte
red the queen traveling veins of this tornadic spun tempest
to fall in monster hail stones pounding out the beating rhythm

A Poem for a Sunday

Please check out my poem published today at Dissident Voice, and give it a like and share while there.

http://dissidentvoice.org/2017/06/my-white-privileged-poetry/

many blessings

Rob

 

nonukes1

 

Afternoon Poetry for Memorial Day 2017

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Have not been feeling well for a few weeks, here are a few to catch you up…. peace!

 

 

 

on the mantel I found your note

on the mantel I found your note
sitting, I read it by the fires light
drowning in the words you speak
arms flailing at ears flash pierced
woven inside I tasted the strings
stuck to the web of a silky trap
sniffing at branches in the dark
sprung loose cracking my teeth
die rolled lost in the floor boards
smoke or a vapor up the chimney
waking in the dark coffee chimes
drifting shale scents over fences
whiteness grows in sight reflected
blown ashes the glowing doth fade

There Is Only One Shade Of Black

cling hard the colors fading
under skin loosely hanging
hundreds of green sparks
showering the open garden
palettes of shades watering
the sky an ocean of blues
powdered hues cast subtly
of reds and yellows shining

distinctly separated bows
the horizon ever changing
glazing now these doughnuts
set in facial sockets aged
scents and sounds do reign
each note has it’s own ringing
yet as night settles here darkly
eclipsing the shadows dull light

in blindness I discover harshly
there is only one shade of black

perpetual the change that remains sweet

muffled giggles in blooming flowers
spark light the butterflies cool rise
yellows, oranges, and blacks scattered
in a blinking musical whirlwind ballet
lilies and crocuses spinning a melody
delicate antenna mimic a child’s wave
May shadows at noon disguise liquid
puddles skated smooth froze as ice
floral scents carried along spring winds
perpetual the change that remains sweet

[ in that barren, dark place ]

in that barren, dark place
only those who know, know
solitude commences loudly
enemies all who pass here
self the worst provocateur
humans scampering all earth
in a kaleidoscope of shadows
swords reach just shy a slice
but the echos of words ring on
swollen, a tribute to Vincent’s ear
they rattle the brain unconscious
oh how can loneliness be so busy

chasing rabbits breaking bones
a lie, a trap set, the fowler’s snare
sanity too high a price to chase now
looking through those looking through me
forgoten groceries laid at the doorstep
or the gas never pumped, the stares
the wind strikes without royal regard
while graveyards seem a quiet place
out beyond the bustling brainwaves
no you can’t feel it just a vapor passing
here though rides a desperate cowboy
breathing this dusty trail until it’s end

nonukes1

An Evening Poem

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her silken feathers gently brush

her silken feathers brush gently
swirling white shades above blue
glass reflections a doves whisper
soothing my beating breast steady
first touch of her angelic artistry
inhaled aura the scent of freshness
beauties breath held tightly and snug
clinging I a child to locks of honey
dripping golden pools of radiance
limbs quake beneath the warm shadow
it’s darkness the one light shinning
as galaxies fade upon her passing
casting a bow of colors skyward
tickling the universe with her toes
small and sweet her touches spark
a trail of bumps spreading quickly
covered now under wings of desire
transforming as the bold monarch
guided north by nectar’s strong call
lips tasting newness as seasons ebb
short fluttering strokes bring floating
of sticky orange pollen resting eyes
falling gentle on long brown lashes
bound once again to this lonely planet

More Trouble At Fukushima?

Weird blue smoke hanging over plant after several earthquakes today.

link to live cams here