Best Cutthroat Poems

The trail to the peak was a long and arduous climb
Which skirted a pristine glacial lake about midway.
Shimmering below, it offered a cooling balm for...

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A scientist pursuing research—
with disinterested curiosity,
Poets distancing themselves—
from personal emotions,
from ‘personality’ (in Eliot’s idiolect),
A sportsperson focusing on the event—
not obsessed with results,
demonstrating sporting spirit,
Anyone doing...

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Pink and grey walls rise like castle parapets
Reflecting the sunrise in golden hues
I ride along the canyon to the sound of leather
Creaking softly in the...

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A pond sits in the glen
bright fish dashing about
casting silvery shadows
ducks chasing after them
eels making their way to sea
flying birds circling back and forth
green frogs...

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Me barber’s still one of them blokes who lives the school of old,
using methods quite old fashioned to what modern trends unfold,
so with scissors, clippers,...

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And you will know me by the trail of dead,
the whistle of wind in cutthroat pipes,
the jolly japes and spring heeled capers
in the sepia pulp...

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Dice, the goddess of morals, asked her mother, Themis
Why there's divorce, gambling, abortion, and alcoholism?
Why should dehumanization, like a Bloodstone, beamish?
Why should knives of nemesis...

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(Blank Verse Sonnet)

We traded fields of cotton bolls for snows
so deep they swallowed house and car alike,
so cold a breath transformed to crystal ice,
so strong...

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h when i was truth i fell
drew boy i grew up
still def still be a cre4ators tool
wipers for the pain tears drop
fear not, fret no...

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by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015

I used to get my haircut, at the local RSL
Gunther was the Barber, he knew my hair real well
for 20...

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You left your lion heart with him
Buried your problems in his mane
You gave up your snapping jaws
Because you thought it’d keep you sane
You didn’t see...

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Hello again Conscious, my dear friend
hello again dear mirror, my wake up call
hello again myself, it's too early for this but it needs to be...

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Sorrow tumbled into words, an antidote
When sobs choked; venom in the throat.
I hear in wrath, again, his disgusting gloat.
Follows, her muffled groans upon each smote....

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To direct thoughts as an oar guides a boat
Thoughts of good,not evil, rowing swiftly
Avoiding those whirlpools of tongue's cutthroat.
Trying always to row words that would...

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She opens the DSM-5 to page 666,
Know Thyself,
who among us is not a Beast somehow,
she's enthralled by Imperfection,
It explains the scars on her heart,
if she...

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