The Web Poetry Corner

Robin

of

Charleston, SC, US

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CharlestonBogard@looksmart.com (Robin)

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The Attack

by

Robin

Harmony’s siege

of opposing forces
four white mice
and eight black horses
ticking away was hatred’s time
(the attack was hatred
an imperfect crime)
And none the soldiers
would receive a dime
while fighting in

a perfect rhyme
And all the while Pain was filling
all the prey that were the killing
of this battle, of this war
"I am hatred hear me roar!"
said the Puck of this sad tale
(he started this, he didn’t fail)
but good beats bad
in stories we’ve had
let tradition last
as it has in the past
the fighting did cease
and all had peace
The mice and horses
went on with their courses
and all was made calm
paw in palm.

The Blow

by

Robin

You have hit me
and I’ve bled.
I’ve survived
and I have said,
"All that I will
ever need
is the Will to
up and leave,"
but, thus, this dream
has been crushed,
thrown away,

and passed as dust
by your anger
and your hate
that you say,
I will create.
You really know
what’s in your soul
self-scorn and fear
that takes its toll
on my body,
heart and mind,
your love and care;
they’re hard to find.
In a fight,
you never missed
the chance to lace
my lips with fist

fumed by traits
your mother tastes
from your father’s
cup of hate.
In that nasty
heart of yours,
I feel and think

that violence pours.
In ev’ry vein,
in ev’ry limb,
black blood pulses
in rhythm
with the fist
that deals a blow
to my face,
white as snow.

Coping

by

Robin

When dealing with doom
I cannot win
Death & Fate loom,

so dire and grim,
over my life
and destiny
through out my strife
and majesty
Life is a test
and as tests go
This is the best
but hard as stone
When time is gone
it is your end
what was wrong
you cannot mend
you will be tried
quite severely
all of your follies
will cost you dearly
>From start
from beginning,
you are challenged
you start sinning
you will cheat
the truth will tilt
when you’re punished
you stink of guilt
The people you knew
will stop and wonder
"Where did she go?
Have I shunned her?"
Death is a question
Why should you die?
Here’s a suggestion,
do not ask why.
When you are born
a question lingers
How will you die
would they point fingers
Who is your killer?
Is it a friend?
Is it old age?
When is your end?

Your patience
is tested
your last hope
is arrested

when you’re gone
your life will cease
no more testing
your spirit has peace

The Blow

by

Robin

You have hit me
and I’ve bled.
I’ve survived
and I have said,
"All that I will
ever need
is the Will to
up and leave,"
but, thus, this dream
has been crushed,
thrown away,

fumed by traits
your mother tastes
from your father’s
cup of hate.
In that nasty
heart of yours,
I feel and think

that violence pours.
In ev’ry vein,
in ev’ry limb,
black blood pulses
in rhythm
with the fist
that deals a blow
to my face,
white as snow.

A Stygian Life

by

Robin

In search of power,
Kids of the flower
made little ones cower
over acts they performed
those Bullies are cold

due to power they hold
no matter what’s told
by authority figures.
But All will go down
and be judged with their frown
by a King with a crown
of thorns o’er his head.
Needless to say,
the redeemed shall stay
and the vicious will pay
in the depths of their evil.
Control corrupts all,
not following law
and people will crawl
to find what’s not theirs.
Respect should be given

to the men and the women
who help the weak live in
this hellish test: life.

Coping

by

Robin

When dealing with doom
I cannot win
Death & Fate loom,

so dire and grim,
over my life
and destiny
through out my strife
and majesty
Life is a test
and as tests go
This is the best
but hard as stone
When time is gone
it is your end
what was wrong
you cannot mend
you will be tried
quite severely
all of your follies
will cost you dearly
>From start
from beginning,
you are challenged
you start sinning
you will cheat
truth will tilt
when you’re punished
you think of guilt
The people you knew
will stop and wonder
"Where did she go?
Have I shunned her?"
Death is a question
Why should you die?
Here’s a suggestion,
do not ask why.
When you are born
a question lingers
How will you die
would they point fingers
Who is your killer?
Is it a friend?
Is it old age?
When is your end?

Your patience
is tested
your last hope

arrested

when you’re gone
your life will cease
no more testing
your soult has peace