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Best Odin Roark Poems

Below are the all-time best Odin Roark poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Odin Roark Poem

Candle Whispers

Candle Whispers

Moths and other creatures
find peril in hovering
especially above seductive candle flame

Yet

We sentient beings
hover not
instead
keep vigil over imagined messages
awaiting the magic
the comfort of vision

As we stare

Buried passions
encouraged by flame
make sacrificial
the walls of insulation
while our fortressed barriers
forfeit protection
dissolving resistance
becoming a river of liquefied defense

We wonder

Is the flame but deception
entrapment
subtle weaponry
seducing the innocent
destroying the gullible

Or

Is it pure light
ignitable by will
extinguishable by nature
its essence of imagination
weaving a ribbon of warmth
among the unlit kindling of love

For just as the cynical enemy
bounces its cold shadows of hurt
restlessly about the wall
waving its determinant position
one's heart beats echoes of defiance

Such are the candle's iconic images
empowering the ether of life
ever simple
ever flexible
even as its waxen folds
melt into mounds of spent energy
awaiting recycled resurrection

Darkness questions

But if we listen

Flame's inner glow whispers its promise to return


Details | Odin Roark Poem

Quietude

Quietude
          by Odin Roark

Quietude
Like a tree’s dark shadow
Knows only the absorption of all colors
Rendering the din of senses
A cacophonous silence

How gentle the process
Once resistance abates
The mind’s own deprivation tank
Engendering trust void of fear

Yet

So hesitant are many
To embrace the white light
To wait out nature’s tintinnabulation
The white noise becoming aphonic

To lay oneself down
Afloat atop the water
The grass
The ethereal reality of consciousness
Where leaves of brown
Beneath the awaiting orange of 
Red and yellow repeat nature’s cycle

Where jasmine lures the mulch of life
Into purity’s gateway
Patiently biding time’s eternal truth
Preparing one with zero

The hush of peace
The quiet of love
The mutation of hate
Conjoin in harmony’s sublime reward
The circle of quietude



Details | Odin Roark Poem

6 Second Trailer

6 Second Trailer

OMG
Did you see it?
OMG
Its...
I'm...
Oh
My
God

It's a fantastic flick
This is...
OMG

The full trailer?

It's coming
It's coming
OMG
So am I

Did you see her...
His...
Its...
Oh
So sweet
Gotta tweet
Gotta sleep

Don't ya love it
OMG

Who wrote it?

The screenplay?
Who cares?

Opening?

Premiering 2015

Bit early, eh?

What, the trailer?
Ya think?

Yeah, but
WTF
YOLO


Details | Odin Roark Poem

Paper Doll Chorus Line

Paper Doll Chorus Lines
                         by Odin Roark

Sun and wind
Imagination’s puppeteer
Turn and twist cutout paper dolls
Strung across blown out window casements
Creating daily enchantment amidst the smoke

How precious
These afternoons
As scissors assist small fingers prepare 
The matinée performance
Cutting daily “stay in your homes” flyers
Into dancing friends

Soon
Say the mothers
The war stage
Will be replaced by
Velvet curtained openings
Where make-believe hope 
Will find flesh and blood still intact
Renewed hearts respecting
Freedom
Happiness

Soon


Details | Odin Roark Poem

Energy's Suffocating Gallop

Energy’s Suffocating Gallop
                                  by Odin Roark

Ancient blood soaked sand
Plumes its sticky residue
Beneath rapacious hooves 

Dust storms of evil stampeding beside pipelines
Goad flow to tankers
Where ubiquitous black gold addiction 
Steers toward pervasive profit-docks  

Behind sweat lathered greed
Winds of historic baggage
Tether their historic words and song
Blessings and curses
Exciting swirling vortexes

Windmills of molten fire
Entitlement’s rape and pillage of breath
Of pores once absorbing purity
Evil’s global bubble
Appearing as mankind'

Robed in white zealotry
The blinded hawk-minds
Embrace the Middle East predatory contaminant
Wallowing in solipsistic riches forgotten
Awake only to pick tomorrow’s gluttonous prey

The world turns on turbine propulsion
With oceans bowing to its slavery
Delivering liquid smokestack suffocation
Silent killers preparing ghosts 
Of time’s new-century-plague 
Ignored

As oil gorged tankers find port  
Release their pandemic sleight of hand
A destruction as innocent as rabbits from a hat
Charms the ignorant
Beguiles the wannabes

Wheeled transport
Delivers the demise of children’s hearts
Left to take a number
Unaware there is no lottery
Only loser-consciousness 
Adult indulgence clinging desperately
To evil’s mane and tail
As it whips gullible eyes
Into cataract submission

Alien life hovers above
Grieving the minions destined
To find black energy’s ashen dust
Sprinkling its fool’s gold
Upon a barren planet


Details | Odin Roark Poem

Winter Cabin Reality

Winter Cabin Reality
            by Odin Roark

The storm door
Improperly closed
Bangs violently
The clapboard shedding
White paint chips
Wounds without first aid
Flecks of age
Mixing with the drifting snow

Walls shudder with the gusts
Windowpanes rattle their death threat
Should one shatter
Beware flood gates of frozen forever

When will guardians arrive
The stewards of their weary retreat
Providing solace for this place
We so willing endure

Harsh punishment
This loneliness of disuse
The fear of abandonment
Looming
Looming
Always looming

Such anxiety for...
In order...
In order to...
Appease elements restless
Unhappy
Feeling forsaken

The stove sad
Laboring for no one
The refrigerator longing
Waiting like a giant petri dish
Anxious to be opened and examined

Bed covers squirm amidst
Nature's innate seekers of shelter
Six-leggers pass four-leggers in the night
Perplexed
Wondering
Where is everyone?

Field mice
The basements fortress of faith
Anticipate the happy slogging
Of drunken feet above
The excess food celebrated not
Falling through spaces of beamed flooring
Affording reserves for future seasons of need

Thus awaits the wilderness shelter
Determined to remain creative
As temperatures drop even lower
On this little respected life-saver
Multiple-soul make-over haven
Urban's satellite arbiter for sanity

Earnestly it awaits yesterday's loyally
Its generational-visitor relay
Its reason to hold on
Its inducement
To stay whole
Just one more year

Crunching snow outside raises hope
Two mice
Three spiders
One gentle squirrel share
"Got to be more than a bear"


Details | Odin Roark Poem

Gotta Play the Game

Gotta Play the Game
            by Odin Roark

Okay
There's this big choice
Pack it in
Or play the game

So it goes with
That societal barometer
Called Retirement

Some of us
Know nothing of such nonsense
Others
Well
Their club dues
And tee time fees
Speak another language

Now the game
Has many rules
Make up your own
If you wish
It's all about beating
That dumb death trap
Called Retirement

So

For those of age-be-damned mindset
Put it out there
Youth is more than a state of mind
It's craziness never subdued

Give the creaky joints
Some Glucosamine and Chonodroitin
Slap on the skin goo for liver spots
****'m if they don't like suspenders
Or mumus
Eat your veggies though
Fox News even supports that
Avoid sobriety
And trip into wherever you need to be

‘cause

No one knows
Where you need to be
Better than your stubborn self
Which is an earned right of passage
The other way

With a shot of Jack in your paw
You're that person that's always wanted
Adventure
Freedom
Your own experience
And just a little bit of
Wisdom for a chaser

C'mon kids of "Age Be Damned"
Time to parrrrrtttteeeee!


Details | Odin Roark Poem

X Continues Marking Many Spots

X Continues Marking Many Spots
                        by Odin Roark

Anonymous living suits many,
gypsy fever of the brain.

Seldom hiding in the shadows,
the glare of klieg-light attention
forever glares upon responsibility,
a disease to many,
a growing malady for most,
a welcome invitation to others.

Even back then,
at twenty,
the waking age,
at least for this X,
a Midwest-ignoramus,
a miscreant not even aware,
experience was about
to render raw and tender the face.

The vengeance proffered
gloriously fait accompli,
needing not the klieg light focus,
better mere awakening
by simpler means
like...
like,
a few beers,
so liberating,
so embarrassing.

This '56 student of students,
bathed in the drenching of
Kerouac,
Baldwin,
Miller,
Bergman,
Fellini,
Truffaut,
Godard,
Kieslowski,
Antonioni,
damned near drowning
in flailing need to see
and survive.

After all…

This was education,
totally missing
from cult religious dogma,
not offered in Aristotelian mode.

So…

Here X was,
always at the Plaza screens,
or the Waverly,
Saturday nights,
lasting forever.

X along with some buddy Y's and Z's
exited the art houses and made their way,
oh yeah,
to the Russian Tea Room.

Saved up rations of money…

Black Russians,
minimal water,
more Black Russians,
the world as we discovered it,
not the world as professed
All around us.

There
in Italy,
France,
Poland,
life seemed somehow more real
not caked over with candied syrup
like American’s urban seduction.

Oh how we longed
to be part of it…
make films.

But more important,
discover what it was all about,
this life
that for many

Was but professed by a God.

Those were times,
magical times
where peeling away the facade
was so delicious,
while we got wasted.

Along about 2 AM
Columbus Circle Books.

Sit on the floor,
thumb through 25 cent paperbacks,
always a Nietzsche,
a dog-eared Menninger,
a used Baldwin,
treasures we could afford.

‘Course…
We had to careful to save enough
for the subway.

We…

The X Y's and Z's hugged,
kissed with manly disregard,
Hell,
we didn’t care who was watching.

We were happy.
We were learning.
We were happening.

X dragged his weary ass up
the 4 flights
screwed back in the light bulb
old man in 4f always unscrewed,
figuring no one's gonna rob
a dark floor.

Simple shit.

But…
love him
to this day.
He was wise.
My first introduction to street cred
in spite of his oldness.

Next morning…

Ah,
Sunday New York Times,
Espresso,
Aspirin,

Growing up.

Learning the hard way.

Sublime,
One’s x’s.


Details | Odin Roark Poem

Chalk Dust

Chalk Dust
by Odin Roark


What history lurks
Below blackboard surfaces
Wedged in creases of eraser felt
In between folds of Oakwood trays

How pristine we wipe clean
The dark window’s surface
Making ready today’s learning
Tomorrow’s remembrance
Future’s childhood bygones

Like stars burned out
Disintegrating to dust
Time’s ancient knowledge
Forever seeks rebirth

Even though for many
Such simple magic
Has all but disappeared
Merely white dust memories
Purposely forgotten

For a few
The latent markings
Remain black and white teachings
Forever embedded in rainbow dreams


Details | Odin Roark Poem

Poets Escape

Poets Escape
         by Odin Roark

How willing
This heart and mind
Absorbing pain's daily prose
Global flagellation becoming
Best sellers
Top Box-office
Google's lifeblood

Whether Syria's dismemberment
Washington's absurdity
Or Hollywood's Grand Guignol Follies
Exhausted passions and intelligence
Clutter synaptic duty
Excused as collateral damage

Everyday wars of fear
Slowly accelerate
This self-destructive countdown
Repeating Time's insidious cycle
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust

While few escape
Some find refuge
In the manifestos of metaphor
Using echoes of cranial madness
Illusion's manic voice
Mumbling through the night
Arranging similes
This is like that
That is this

Until...

Dream's phosphoreal mirage
Becomes imagination's reality
Layered tapestry hanging firm
Mind's needlework in progress
Becoming woven experience
To shroud forever
Weakness's acquiescence

For what?
For whom?

Poets know not
They just are


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