Monday, July 28, 2014

And So It Was - by Bob Atkinson

A Whiter Shade of Pale

Poemwriters: Booker, Reid, Fisher
we skipped the light Fandango
turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kind of seasick
but the crowd called out for more

the room was humming harder
as the ceiling flew away
when we called out for another drink
the waiter brought a tray

and so it was that later
as the Miller told his tale
that her face, at first just ghostly
turned a whiter shade of pale

she said there is no reason
and the truth is plain to see
but I wandered through my playing cards
and would not let her be

one of sixteen vestal virgins
who were leaving for the coast
and although my eyes were open
they might just as well've been closed


she said, 'I'm home on shore leave,'
though in truth we were at sea
so I took her by the looking glass
and forced her to agree

saying, 'You must be the mermaid
who took Neptune for a ride.'
but she smiled at me so sadly
that my anger straightway died
if music be the food of love
then laughter is its queen
and likewise if behind is in front
then dirt in truth is clean


my mouth by then like cardboard
seemed to slip straight through my head
so we crash-dived straightway quickly
and attacked the ocean bed


and so it was that later
as the Miller told his tale
that her face, at first just ghostly
turned a whiter shade of pale

and so it was


And So It Was
(c)Bob Atkinson
to stop and tell a story
to those who hadn't gone
has quick implications
being right or wrong


doesn't really matter
do we tell the truth in all
we say, do, denunciate
or do we just revolve


around those reflexed feelings
what seems comfortable today
in feeding image of self-worth
or contentment toward our graves


to set in motion accolades
and minds tuned to a song
garners ornamental tweets
allows us to belong


to a mood of indecision
strictly aberated in some way
you think it normal tuning out
some think it's moon gyrated

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Sound Turned to Silence - by Bob Atkinson

Sound Turned to Silence
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
we all, in our own way
struggle through pursuit deranged
broadcasting our thought processes
in that in life of little gain

how much snaps your memory
to where you hear my tune
and sift your own experience
to drive home my good moods

how much of who I am
rubs right off on you
am I just noise in your cabin
as you ignore my attitude

silence knifes the book pages
as if cutting sentences in half
spewing waste out through a gate
and pulling shards of glass

silence feeds the open echoes
trundles through my past
and forms that open crust
of my ocean as I laugh

silence fills my need for clarity
non-ambiguous in its tone
the world defined by nature
or total lack thereof

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

They Feel - by Bob Atkinson

They Feel
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
they feel they're in the right
all tallied, set up finely
thoughts true, until refrain
lays doubt upon their brains

power comes, and power goes
sends will to kill down hill toward those
who allow themselves finite divinity
giving up on their hope of humanity

right and wrong lie somewhere here
between luck and perseverance
not when the strong survive
but when we sift out another's lies

take from those who give
and feel strength of will to hear
what can't be said in public
killing never solves it

A Quality of Time - by Bob Atkinson

A Quality of Time
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
send me into mind spin
as you take my imagination
toward a twisted gyration
without parachute's release

just flow with destiny to heaven
not trying to scrape sides to stop ascent
with fingers raw from pushing ever
toward that goal that ends in death

I'll just enjoy position
of my time here on this earth
that point which shows my vision
keeps me from scraping dirt

someday,
when my mirrors shows the past
will smile and say I tried to live
as if one not with feigned pride
all that could be done I did

with simple tools I had
all my friends found me to
give more than was allowed
not asking gratitude

'till then I'll spin my story
so some can with smiles so sweet
look back on this simple life and
imagine what it could have been

to live in times of trouble
when hurt was passed around
and flowed into our being
before it turned around

A Voyage in the Mind - by Bob Atkinson

A Voyage in the Mind
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
a rendezvous of lovers
in the night when no one knows
how they find simple pleasure
in a companion's ebb and flow

street lights spraying whiteness
on the shadows of the moon
no rain in tonight's forecast
no cold could change their mood

breath comes out in sprayed vapors
as they discuss what they have done
in moments of sad aloneness
after their last meeting of

destiny shoving them together
for how long, they sure don't know
just feels so good together
sometime life puts on a show

so here on that path of shadows
they ask not what future holds
with possibilities of devotion
which can melt as if the snow

See the Light - by Bob Atkinson

See the Light
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
I tried all the things I know
from above board to down below
still my feelings were to grow
as I stood tall down in that row

carried me from birth to death
this pride that moved my aching head
when called to serve upon the line
to demise it might have been in time

but now, I still hold my head

hold it down to feel the pain
these days it doesn't fully explain
why the rain that feels so cold
breaks my heart down in my soul

but now, I hold my head so low

in time we may find the charm
where in the past was only none
now I see a future bright
as if all children saw the light

Regret - by Bob Atkinson

Regret
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
find my heart bent on this quest
of showing you my discontent
have seen both good and not
trying hard to avoid fool's rot

regret when filled with wild desire
that burning in the heart, a fierce lit fire
regret that always chills me down
and lets my will come to the ground

so many links I give to you
trying to get through and see it useful
a quick change in attitude
contrasting good with no repute

regret sometimes fills my page
while burning out it gets my rage
yes, there are reasons to ignore
what we can't control by force

force feeds that loop of hate
denies each of us has roads to take
why should one decide upon
that path another rides out on

regret that freedom dies a death
from not feeding its respect
hope someday we'll accept
power requires dispersal's checks

the world we see as blue and white
a secret life we see as might
travel here and there to look
upon freedom gathered for our good

disperse that power to the brood
don't let it fester with those kooks
who see their selfish purpose in a light
which doesn't value human life

Simplicity of Love - by Bob Atkinson

Simplicity of Love
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

circumstance breeds flight
as a bird moves over blue sky
here I find you tenderly
sitting here in love with me

burdens carried over time
your duty parallel to mine
all simple pleasures not to find
without the simplicity of love

tell me are you engulfed
with broken heart and purpose of
that duly constituted love
I find here in my heart

a world so complex in nature
takes away all rooted pleasure
those energies of force you see
we fight off with resistant pleas

resistance now holding fast
when we have achieved at last
a goal within arm's reach
that goal stands as you and me

love starts with beating hearts
flows down through one's mind
driven there by force of time
matures as grapes on a vine


then plucked by lovers taking truth
in feelings drawn so deep for use
emotions arrived here from above
with the purest simplicity of love

Show Me Some Love - by Bob Atkinson

Show Me Some Love
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
mortal enemies fight for reason
true to them in any season
causes always supreme
brought on by selfish scheme

show me some love, will retaliate
not with bombs but concern great
for your welfare, progress, children too
give me love, will give it back to you

leave your dogma in that pile
of rubble caused, the hurt, the fire
leave your chants and slogans sad
which make your mind into the bad

forget your pogroms, chilling hate
forget your suffering of late
forget your fathers' battles bloody
think of your future, brothers, cousins

stop the carnage with love of culture

The Percolation of Untruths - by Bob Atkinson

The Percolation of Untruths
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
"... both read the same Bible and pray to the same God and each invokes His aid against the other ..." Abraham Lincoln

here we have an issue
which festers in our hearts
how could we ask salvation
when our misdeeds unruly spark

that deviant cultural condition
which keeps some from living safe
while progress of power gathered
expands corruption in its wake

as we champion positions
without facts of true belief
only what some mortal man
feeds you deviantly underneath

which lays you out for mistakes
puts your permanence in doubt
who would prolong the soul of man
who bloodshed dishes out

pouring uncaring hurt upon another
in a universe completely wild
with judge and jury looking down
not behavior of which we're proud

we move into a fabled field
with heart set on success
a world without complexity
of those who thump their chests

as we avoid simplistic violent control
by our cultural elite
tell me if in this world can we
live with freedom lacking for our feet

to show true stripes requires good
devil hides with fleece upon his head
causes us to kill, torture, percolate
his dogma on top of men

Don't tell me you're going to kill someone in the name of God, that just won't cut it !!!

Once I Thought You The Enemy - by Bob Atkinson

Once I Thought You The Enemy
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
here in the garden of good and bad
we look as if we've been had
stare at each other in disbelief
as if a mirror stands between

those we sought to dehumanize
those who attacked our pride
those whom we sought to erase
in front of us reflect our face

same wants, desires, accolades
same pride of purpose, same outrage
same story told of childhood
why do we fight, not understood

power comes to sneak through
control direction, setting of moods
power puts us all in chains
power demands a deranged brain

power for the individual
control of mankind a perfect symbol
of how to force a dogma far
into that mind of melted heart

fear not my friend the enemy
fear that "friend" who takes your freedom
by the chains of ritual fierce
from ages garnered, free will pierced

fear not the designated antagonist
fear one who points and shakes his fist
tells you "the enemy" is not on your side
and sets in motion genocide

Friday, July 11, 2014

Gabrielle - by Bob Atkinson

Gabrielle
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
Gabrielle wake up, our moon rises
vitality ebbs as ocean tides
forcing us to absorb life's phases
good and bad, calm and rages

Gabrielle rise with the moon

calamity has conquered us
yet we stand again as we must

fill our time with our sighs
wander through those forest trees
setting hearts with poetry

Gabrielle rise with the moon

red or blue it stands with you
showing us we can subdue
phases of our life's account
either way, I'm content about

standing tall or stooping right
into our fundamental pride
Gabrielle rise with the moon

see it now our present tense
see it find us in our beds
see us free to begin to live
watch a summer moon again

Gabrielle rise with the moon

Gabrielle, we've done our duty
you and me we've gone through
accolades or disgraceful moods

now it's time to watch the moon
ponder over me and you

Gabrielle rise with the moon

 

To Rise Again - by Bob Atkinson

To Rise Again
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
Flood 
oh, but I can rise again
have died but live to get
up to the top of my life plan
oh, but I can rise again

you say I've made mistakes of time
yes, they are many but I find
you have in your resume' dear friend
many dreams faded, ended

oh, but I can rise again
I'm not so down that I can't mend
here in my soul I know I can
oh, but I can rise again

here in this time of hardened mood
I've come to change your attitude
bring you to that frame of mind
which satisfies your needs and mine

oh but I can rise again
have died but live to get
up to the top of my life plan
oh but I can rise again

The Virtue of Excess - by Bob Atkinson

The Virtue of Excess
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

so many times we see
a fellow's guarantee
of failure due to bonding
of pride with effort starting

to erode some confidence
in allowance for non-prudence
pushing hard at storming
what should have been a warning

backtrack toward beginnings
you see fault emerging briefly
in someone's purpose bent
toward failure of content

try to steer from error
your friend, co-worker, parent
yet they seem intent on pursuit
of a decline in virtue astute

you're seen in a bad light
your efforts, skill and might
fade into an unwanted box
nobody thinks you're tops

should you stop and think
how to hope makes you sink
and tears on reputation
sincerity seeks salvation

don't know how to evolve
this situation toward resolve
just watch as people move
toward conflict of attitude

Vulgar Tongue - by Bob Atkinson

Vulgar Tongue
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

".... she had an acute mind, good morals,
bad manners, and a vulgar tongue ...."
France Under the Regency, Perkins

describing us as if a bunch
of satiated sots
no plan of distribution
would satisfy our lot

twelve years into the program
no words can thus describe
how we tear into confusion
not satisfaction of our mind

we have those habits resolute
although in argument
some say we be delusional
or wicked in our plan

here in the mortal battlefield
we fight for right and pay
while ingratiating destitution
into our clothing frayed

to come toward conclusion
of that which we began
helps us in our final days
take stickers on our backs

as signs of accomplishment
we did something to another clear
good, bad or in between
at their jabs we sneer

Sentiment - by Bob Atkinson

Sentiment
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

please help me decide for real
how an idea of merit makes me feel
a scheme packed deep within my head
of simple memories regenerated

sentiment begins to percolate
as if music playing on background images
flowing in toward, or flowing out of touch
deep within some dormant seed of doubt

how far could a feeling go
if left unchecked, on its own to grow
how long can we hold emotion in
if an idea lay scorned, branded invisible

sentiment resolves that guilty rage
a folded notion or well meant statement
forever trading remorse for vindication
as it serenely captures then emotes explanation

The Civilized vs The Decomposed - by Bob Atkinson

The Civilized vs The Decomposed
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson



nobody now cares to admit

our cities have become drug pits

civilized moved on so they can live

without the blight of depraved kids



these heathen souls who have become

that part of nature known as dung

get not trained in setting goals like men

go simply lost to propriety, in any event



money has not to do with this effort

purpose and goodwill toward everybody

carries all material needed for good life

yet the guns of animals fire every night



with broom in hand and gritted teeth

we all believe in widespread freedom

we can choose that gentle path

or stop the carnage with heavy hand



pick up your boots and settle down

don't brood and take the easy ground

get to work with mop on fire

take back your humanity, respect desire



ambition finds its place in time

to clean out flotsam requires nose-grind

quality of life defines a city safe

kindness, love, stand at those gates



towns begin to percolate

grow grass, trees tall in parkland spaces

schools and places of learning grow

we give each other a respectful bow



we can accomplish all our goals

with effort stand up on our toes

takes not what we don't have

sane recognition of the worth of man

Baretta - by Bob Atkinson

Baretta
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

Baretta stays in front of stage
never living in darkness or purple haze
Baretta comes to sit with me again
winds her heart around my chest

follows form to its reward
leaving simple dreams of mind
honest feelings so described
to rest within my soul for time

when more cannot be asked of her
she wanders away from my perch
toward her fondest dreams held firm
not shamed by loving feelings burned

Baretta sits with me again
tells me how her day began
taking wishes one by one
folding them neatly in her hand

how can I reach for her when we
divert each other's wildest dreams
sounds sad as if a lost regime
confirmed into some dust of meaning

me, I wish that here in time
will find that path which sees the light
in this oh so darkest night, no starshine
Baretta sits with me again so quiet

confirm, do we see the moon
as looking down upon our moods
or do we stay in emotional rage
while standing firm in quiet payment

someday, if senses prevail
we'll find a way to open veils
take away doubt, sweeten need
as Baretta sits here still with me

They Feel - by Bob Atkinson

They Feel
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
they feel they're in the right
all tallied, set up finely
thoughts true, until refrain
lays doubt upon their brains

power comes, and power goes
sends will to kill down hill toward those
who allow themselves finite divinity
giving up on their hope of humanity

right and wrong lie somewhere here
between luck and perseverance
not when the strong survive
but when we sift out another's lies

take from those who give
and feel strength of will to hear
what can't be said in public
killing never solves it

A Quality of Time - by Bob Atkinson

A Quality of Time
(c)2014 Bob Atkinson
send me into mind spin
as you take my imagination
toward a twisted gyration
without parachute's release

just flow with destiny to heaven
not trying to scrape sides to stop ascent
with fingers raw from pushing ever
toward that goal that ends in death

I'll just enjoy position
of my time here on this earth
that point which shows my vision
keeps me from scraping dirt

someday,
when my mirrors shows the past
will smile and say I tried to live
as if one not with feigned pride
all that could be done I did

with simple tools I had
all my friends found me to
give more than was allowed
not asking gratitude

'till then I'll spin my story
so some can with smiles so sweet
look back on this simple life and
imagine what it could have been

to live in times of trouble
when hurt was passed around
and flowed into our being
before it turned around