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Best Poems Written by Adrian Robinson

Below are the all-time best Adrian Robinson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

The Heart of Men

If my wretched soul
           wasn't incarcerate inside 
                the cage of my ribs for
                   my transgression 
                
                 I would walk to depth 
          of the horizon where the
 Sun sleep to set it on fire                       
like a burning desire, 
    and watch it burn to ash 
            My intentions are ruthless...
 
              If I grow feathers I would fly 
         to the roof of the great sky 
     cut the strings that the 
stars hang on, and violently 
laugh as they fall to the
      surface of the earth 
         and break their shine 
                 My intentions r ruthless...
 
                If I were a few step taller
          I would stretch my arms
    up the sky, and squeeze 
the rain out of the 
clouds so that the river
  become thirsty, and run
           to the ocean for water
              
              My intentions are ruthless,
              because I have the heart 
              of a men

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

Love and Math

Intangible darkness under the 
soft
moonlight- another night 
shadowing
My lonely my soul. 
Among the whispers of the 
wind
i shivered cold- 
yearning for your multiple 
affection- undivided- additionally 
I need you
We're a fraction-
                    Me
                   over    
                   you-
a part of me is still dying over 
you.
Yet again my eyes further rain 
and submerge you further 
in my thoughts.
I'm saturated by your attributed
sadness that's oozing through
the cracks of my heart.     

I wish your arms were her to 
pull
me from the pit of my pain.
Every dream on my pillow 
got the echoes of your name.

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

Each Man Giving a Bag of Tools

Idle tools and Unlock
Shackles.
 Gold line the 
Streets of freedom
 
        For the earth is finish 
       Built for our children, 
       But if disaster rise off 
      The sea and ruin the
       Pyramids  

Bring me my tools
And shackles,  
Make me a slave again.

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

My Ink Is My Blood

Lick these writings of mine  
Let my ink stain your taste buds 
Can you stand the taste of my pain?

Wounded by the sharpness of thy mind       i bleed continually- my ink is 
my blood
The words of my qull flow from my vein

I'm standing below the poverty line
Will manna fall from above?
There's no nourishment in the rain    

The freedom I search for is yet to find 
I want to be free like a dove
Free my brain from the mental chain    

Racism should be once up on a time
Pour me hate and i dilute it with love 
Hate me with passion- what's your gain?

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

Mona Lisa

Even if it takes the ink of a 
thousand pens,
I'm going to write about Mona 
Lisa
in the wake of the night,
as soon my writing pad by ignite 
by the glow of the moonlight.

The first time I saw her my 
eyes froze upon the surface of 
her angelic appearance.

Within a wink of an eye the 
features that construct her 
beauty put me to sleep upon a 
soft pillow of imagination.

I tried to express myself, but 
my lips fluently speak the 
language of silence, 
because I submerged in a 
ocean of words, before I floated 
up on a thought of adjectives as 
I seek to articulate my feelings, 
then I realized that no 
adjectives on the tongue of men 
can adequately describes the 
feeling I felt for her.      

As I'm about to say something 
her smile paralyzed the words 
that I was about to say so they 
didn't get to walk off my lips.

I set my ravenous eyes free to 
feed on the flesh of her 
congeniality. 
I glimpse through uniquely 
crafted windows of her soul and 
i perceived heaven where she's 
from.
      
She swept me off my feet and I 
fell from the stand of my 
fantasy into love.

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

My Pen Will Tell the Tales

I'm  under the weather of 
raging ravenous ravens
feathers--vultures gliding
awaiting the corpses
of my bleeding thoughts,
and my wounded pen.

The carvings that furnished
the sanctuary my once empty 
thoughts, and whatever 
darken  
words written on the tablets 
of my heart won't be 
forsaken  
by my pen.
  
My pen will tell the tales of  
the moon-less night that 
buried 
me under rubbles of falling 
darkness 
after the walls of the shy 
shaken.

My pen will tell the tales of the 
tears that streams down the 
cannons my cheeks, to wash 
away 
the blood that's oozed from 
my 
Wrists, when I try to leak the 
aches that's aching.  

My pen will tell poignant tales
that will stain memories

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

Angel's Tears

Each time lighten strike and 
Thunder speak 
Angels shed showers of tears 
until they fall asleep
and the tears fell through the 
dense pillows grey Cloud 
some people call it rain
I call it a transportation 
because it Bring my thoughts 
to your Window pane.

In the boundaries of that 
moment all i can only think of 
is you
as droplets of angel tears fall 
through the humid air
The mourning on my roof, 
then the tears leak to the 
earth beneath.
I wish your sunshine were 
here with me under my sheet
 
I also wish that you bring back 
the world under my feet
I feel weathers of pain when 
Angels cry 
I'm only alive because true 
love never die.

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

Prophecy

And it shall come to pass--
A dominance of mighty arms 
will
Throw destructive stones at 
the
Sufferers that rebel.
Knees will plant in the earth
And pleas for mercy will be 
On many tongues.     

In the falling rain of brim 
stones

The mother land will weep
For innocent is in the 
Blood of the lying bodies,
For innocent are the hands
That wrote their Solidarity
On plaque-cards and took 
To the Street.     

In the rain of piercing 
ammunitions
  
She will weep a level of tears 
That can extinguish the Sun
Or defrost the moon that 
frozen 
Upon the wall of the sky.  

In the rain of falling tears and 
Oozing blood  

She will weep when she 
behold her 
Sheep been persecuted by 
their
Shepherd because they 
refused 
To continue eat the grass of 
Oppression. 
   
Guns out this morning Babylon 
coming again.

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

Black and White Sunset

Distort countenance portrait 
inside the frame of my face 
Looking at Mona Lisa smiling as  
Leonardo da Vinci paints the 
world in black and white, 
and then he put it on a Axis to 
revolve around the sun that 
sleeps at night.
   
Blankets of clouds deeply stain 
with grey dye. 
Dry rain flaking off the edge of 
the mourning sky.
If the Rainbow was really a 
Bridge I would
Walk across and set the sun 
because  
After the blue-sun set the day 
die.
  
Old red tears crystallize in all 
the weepers eyes 
Black feathers falling with 
echoes of angel cry 
The colours black and white got 
soul that is why we all going to 
live to die

Details | Adrian Robinson Poem

The New Tears

Tears were the language
they once use to speak
of their pain. 
Their ravenous memories
have a tendency of feeding
on the flesh of the rain.
Vines of inhumanity and 
injustice grow wild and 
intertwine
around the tables of 
their minds 
clock wasn't made to tell the
tales of good time.
  
Tears become a unspoken
language because they
Bond their lips with ribbons 
of silence and swear not to cry 
any more but 
the evident of Silence later
broken into intangible pieces
as they start to hum out
their pains.

Humming later become their 
New tears
They Hummmmmmmmm and 
Hummmmmm with a tones 
agony 
and Their voice congregate and
But yet to shake the great wall 
of sympathy.  
The earth inhabited by their
 rebellious humming that 
frequently 
climbs the steers of the air. 
 
They hum and hum until 
humming 
become a pillow-soft-melody on 
every tongues of the poor.