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Robin Burnett Poem
...and I want to start all my sentences with
the taste of his tongue.
I find him locked inside my rib cage
leaning softly against my heart
smoking a stogie and strumming bones,
where every thought of him is a losing
battle between good and evil that
I just don't truly want to win.
A garden of mist dripped wisteria
and criminal desire to cross all the
wrong borders to nymphet hysteria.
I'm afraid it might hurt a little,
this promise to make me a woman
again...
engrave his name on my spine
with a lovers knot of whispering pine
a seven year itch into ivy climb.
I want to know the sure feel of his lips
on mine...splashed on all the inner
walls of his surrender.
Copyright © Robin Burnett | Year Posted 2014
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Robin Burnett Poem
I watched the paper soak up the ink
as it blotched in breast strokes across the page...
suddenly I was street bound
in hand signals
legs, pinned to the pavement
as July scrolled by in reverse
and a name scrawled across
the wheat covered hills...
A single day took it's light
from the crayon colored buildings
and the laughter rang from
a beautiful city where the call
of seagulls brushed it's wings
against my cheek like friends
embraced, arm in arm,
our hopes, crushed
long before infancy.
I plucked a locus from my eye
as petals of golden Roses
littered the street like pieces
of shattered poetry.
Copyright © Robin Burnett | Year Posted 2014
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Robin Burnett Poem
There is a soft meadow golden
where there now stands oblivion
wild mustangs comb the hard
dry grasses after a long arid winter.
In the distance, wood smoke
from a silent fire that crackles
'neath a hungry touch.
An aubade's warm hand reaches
from the silky horizon to touch love
gently upon her shoulders and roam
the hills, and dusky valleys of the
paradisiac dawn, as it stretches each stone.
...and soothed; by palpable stream;
each bend a lover's nape
endlessly explored by endless wait
to greet the welcome rise again.
Copyright © Robin Burnett | Year Posted 2014
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Robin Burnett Poem
Swallow the melodies
of things unknown.
this swooning depth,
the wonder of you
on every face
love refuses amnesia.
so silent beside me,
so patient,
Are you always this silent love?
long as you gather me
into the crook of your arm
when I draw near
and our souls sing
like crickets on a sultry
summers night whenever
you draw near.
Copyright © Robin Burnett | Year Posted 2014
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