poems on poetry
Home sweet home Latest site info Poetic stuff Serious stuff Funny stuff Topical stuff Alternative stuff Shakespearian stuff Musical stuff
  click here for a "printer friendly" version

Poems
by John D Robinson

 

 

 

To Move Forward

 

When poems trickle like walking in shoes-full

of small sharp pebbles,

when the words are doused in sunlight

or scorched with night,

when the days seem to hunt you like

ravenous wolf-pack,

when the clock is plotting against you,

it’s time to say ‘Okay’

pour yourself a drink,

unplug the pc and radio and phone,

 sit back

and drown in the quietness.

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

The Reminder

 

Its rarely that I share my

poems with my wife,

some of the sex-poems I

keep from her, particularly

if they involve her,

I offer her poems of

tragedy and humour,

the poems of human-

horror I hide from her,

she sees it, like you do,

everyday, we deal with it

in different ways,

ignore it, push it away

like it’s not a part of

their lives, but of

course it is

and I write poems

to remind them.

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Here Is

 

Here is the paper

here is the pen

here is the poem

about someone you

didn’t know or

care for as I did,

here is a poem

of sadness, a poem

of everyday despair

and tragedy, of

the hopelessness,

of the endless

anguish and pain,

here is a poem

of stark, brutal

raw honesty,

here is a poem

you won’t want to

read, a poem

gripped with the

madness of our

harrowing times,

here is a poem

without the words

of love to shine,

a poem that holds

onto her

simple beauty

and the wonder

of her time here.

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

The Refuge

 

I could take refuge in the

silhouette of holy places,

in the pages of children,

in the cul-de-sac of dreams,

in the wink of an eye,

a slight of hand,

behind the windows of

something lost,

in the headlights of a

speeding motorcycle,

in the music of love,

in art,

in the corners of history,

in the flame of last

night’s candle

but I’ll keep my mouth

shut and write poems.

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Most

 

Most know me as an

asshole,

some know me as a

wine drinking drug

taking asshole,

a few know me as

a poet

and I steer clear

of these people.

 

 

 

 

a line, (a blue one)

 

Rate this poetry.



Copyright is reserved by the author. Please do not reproduce any part of this article without consent.

 

© Winamop 2019