"You must never say never."
Quote _ Rowan Atkinson
Rowan Atkinson
the hapless Mr. Bean with his facial contortion
visual, physical comedy with witty deadpan delivery
a changeable chameleon- part of great comedian history
Categories:
atkinson, tribute,
Form: Clerihew
The Critic - Art and Poetry
- by Bob Atkinson
'tis always easier to criticize
than is to do it yourself
although in truth the latter
contains far more fun and mirth
my point lies somewhere in between
good and bad of poetry
adjustment for the mainstream
how we absorb idealistic dreams
to see this in a different light
with crystal covers on the lens
we can, with open eyes
love writers with sharp pens
those who look beyond the fluff
and understand good meaning
divest themselves of constraints
and pursue a different dreaming
they see a world with tearfulness
not holding on to chains
which produce establishments
that grate and agitate
my desire in this arena
carries to all a simple message
don't let the future be determined
by past usage and direction
what you see is fabricated
a reality far from real
poo pooing things that matter
holds their only zeal
me, I've grown accustomed
to my meaning zipping by
heads of those who look
only at the surface side
doesn't mean I'm disheartened
to try is not hard at all
when you feel compunction
to rearrange it all
Categories:
atkinson, art, creation, emotions, feelings,
Form: Quatrain
The Kentucky Hayseed
- by Bob Atkinson
he looks a little confused
his mind cast in a fix
how can he concentrate on this
just a little bit
a jerky set of previews
float over and above
his articulated vision on
some confused state of fuss
he'd never seen a problem
like this in all his life
a complex set of jargon
not allowing mushy light
he chewed on a blade of grass
considering all possibilities there
just open ended reflex
on most of which, he didn't care
his mama told him something
when a child was he
he tried to focus reason
when allowed here to repeat
that never ending slogan
of truth and firm despair
carrying nothing in between
his inner and outer ears
the hayseed settled down to work
a tumor he could see
grabbed a scalpel from the nurse
and simply cut it free
Categories:
atkinson, cancer, discrimination, fun, health,
Form: Quatrain
The Tempest of Poetry
- by Bob Atkinson
there blows in stiff wind
created by the word
an everlasting frozen
collection of nouns and verbs
like a whirlwind of change
these letters spell the thoughts
of minds evolved to think
and report facts back to boss
here, in an open world
where flies the dust of change
we find restitution
in words thus re-arranged
cannot give to the giver
much more than we have done
for in an underlying thought
he knows what we have spun
stories of our past
tales of our future deeds
garnishment of life
on all we can agree
freeze emotions for all time
let thoughts be translated then
into a world evolved from us
as simple mortal men
let them know all we were
let them like us some
let them know we tried our best
as we from danger run
let them see what we were
back when we were young
and how we gathered wisdom
when older we'd become
trade our sincerity
for that truth of which we knew
let them see our tears of pain
when success we couldn't view
hopefully they will exist
if we don't destroy their seed
for if we continue on this path
we'll be devolved by greed
Categories:
atkinson, angst, journey, mythology, poems,
Form: Quatrain
Linux
- by Bob Atkinson
Linus had a vision
of that which percolates
upon the scene of tradition
giving wheat grain at the gate
to better the community
by effort of the hand of man
wherein we all accumulate
repayment for our plans
he sought that which one sees
in visions traded for
efforts of the skills obtained
on all the foreign shores
no matter who we are in our
simple lives of quiet revision
we do our individual part by
coding commerce for his vision
whereby the info flows down on
a matrix of delight
accomplishing our harder tasks
as if by a quill pen's light
Linus kept it simple
no greed carried within
let the others steal from man
his objective was to give
Categories:
atkinson, community, computer, giving, visionary,
Form: Quatrain
Sociocultural
Evolution
- by Bob Atkinson
here in the here and
now
well beyond that
date in time
beyond beginnings so
far back
as to look like
stones defined
by their
stratification
layers of that dust
of life
which settles into a
black void
and shoves us out of
life
here with a fond
reflection
we see what we've
become
our narrow minded
creases
of satisfied results
but satisfaction
deviates
from norms we can
arrange
to send our children
to the future
an establishment
pre-arranged
take a minute to
evolve
into something more
advanced
don't see your
brother as the enemy
to be pierced
through with your
lance
Categories:
atkinson, africa, america, environment, holocaust,
Form: Quatrain
Unreason
- by Bob Atkinson
"... ode to those
who teach creative
writing at the
college level,
yet have not the
talent nor
understanding
required
to produce something
worthwhile ..."
to listen graciously
then turn away
feeling for the
first time
wonder at his
sayings
carries burdens
newly minted
for my life on lumpy
pavement
simply put this
wreck of words
drives not my lucid
statements
in fear of simple
castings made
those so hard to
correctly gage
find difficulty in
believing
what should or
shouldn't stand
feed me what to this
date
has not been allowed
percolation
to equate justice
circumcised
against wispy
thoughts berated
metaphors mixed
until complete
that nonsense we all
believe in
can only drive us
deeply down
a path toward firm
unreason
Categories:
atkinson, poems, poetess, poetry, poets,
Form: Quatrain
A Poem Wrapped in
Music
by Bob Atkinson
write that emotional
treasure
your life, your
loves, your leisure
tell all your best
stories
describing love,
life and glory
setting for us
location
describe all with
elocution
impact my heart with
fire
by describing
heart's desire
tell stories not yet
told
of your actions weak
and bold
tales of the heroes
gone
to the past or
current born
give me much to
contemplate
while I live that
sedate life
worrying about
tomorrow
with those darlings
or a wife
wrap this wondrous
treasure
in a blanket of
sweet sounds
music for a
lifetime's thought
bringing my spirit
to the ground
call this something
I will know
a word with which to
rest
my weary attention
span
spread out over my
chest
call the content and
the notes
an entire ball of
wax
something I will
know and treasure
from my future to my
past
call it song
Categories:
atkinson, poems, poetess, poetry, poets,
Form: Quatrain
Sentiment
- by 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
Categories:
atkinson, emotions, identity, image, imagery,
Form: Imagism