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Best Poems Written by Luke Hobbs

Below are the all-time best Luke Hobbs poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Chi Rho

can we become better than we are 
to be our brother's keeper, complete
allow all else to fall by the way
silent and constant is always strong
words and action only speak so long
my suffering is nothing compared
to the innocent, to the guilty

at the center of the universe you will not find me

perfection finds fulfillment in love
true martyrs pray for their enemies
there is no fear of death, only joy
a secret kept for the simple mind
and the heart incapable of guile
guilt is counterfeit and indulgent
conviction draws us back to center

there is no distance between us and God

justice only finds fullness in death
the eternal embrace reveals truth
letting that which is higher defend
granted mercy, we ask for justice
can we find change in repetition
progress precluded, madness defined
freedom is to will God's will to all

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Number of Man

Number of Man
(Webster’s Ninth)

Money trail reveals factor
To assemble humans follow layout
Swat down charges with linguistic racket
Sticks more effective than carrot dangle
Arguments sustained by pundits' jangle
Beached on shallow force Fed truths we paddle

Pedantic pets get paddle
First world states where offspring are a factor
Searching for meaning results in jangle
Pogroms programmed in digital layout
Preach peace while children from clotheslines dangle
Dichotomy the full courtpress racket

Tax credit skin trade racket
Birth control for those learning to paddle
Tout facts as contexts, like syntax, dangle
Infrastructure to control the factor
Roman Rhodes lead all through latent layout
Deaf ears strain to hear warning bell’s jangle

Legalized fictions jangle
Integration catalyzed by racket
A body of work produced for layout
Leaves us without proverbial paddle
Multiply the lie to find the factor
What tales are told from the yardarm dangle

Join the police state dangle
Riot inciting projection jangle
Plausibility denying factor
The legislative extortion racket
Brings independence beneath the paddle
All contingencies covered by layout

Camp Kapos marked for layout 
Every scapegoat has his day to dangle
No room for slaves who refuse to paddle
Loose lips fill shipping lanes by their jangle
Synthetic avatars fuel our racket
Never ask what long term effects factor

Layout a dialectic to jangle
Dangle clues via distracting racket
Paddle but fail to account for the Factor


© L.K. Hobbs 2018

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Sacrifice

beat, bellow and decay,
      is there nothing more,
cold liquid crimson,
      colorful tainting,
      fallen from within,
 
down dark corduroy,
      to the bridge's end,
      descending stairway,
      plunge into the abyss,
baptism by fire,
cauterized spirit,
fresh wounds pass away,
      clear the dross,
      to set the stage,
      away with held breathe,
 
how it kills us,
to learn, to listen,
      freedom within dependence,
the scent of melon,
the night fragrant,
      senses awakened,
      memories lead on,
through velvet poetry,
 
      softly sleep soothes,
      lines drawn with the shades,
      where sand buries lies,
these translucent chameleons,
      change like water,
      the cages weaken,
relinquish their quarry

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Anima

what to do for spilt blood,
naught else but to write,
urgently before it dries,
dies, these words,
would produce little affect,
had they been vein written,
draw red out from the surface,
blue or black,
as stilled waters they run,
deeper, drowning in depths opaque,
ink this is my blood,
 
perception and repetition,
the unwelcome servants of time,
suffer through reliving,
side effect of the subjective,
 
by the cliffs the wind,
toils but never tires,
a stranger to love's bidding,
floating upon the sea like fog,
fall through the frame,  
never down but inward,
windows of sight close,
veiled they drift away,
the mind recedes within,
even as imagination projects,
ether dreams keep the gates,
the soul confined insensible,
night and its oceans,
run on from Marathon,
the conscious life provides no cross,
examination another season staring vacant,
these walls can speak,
only my name,
 
guilt is the nightmare you know,
will come tonight,
premonitions of a past,
that is present,
the faithfulness of a familiar spirit,
history and hypothesis press,
on both sides,    
until all condenses to singularity,
a point abstract and finite,
nonexistent,
guilt is an alter no sacrifice satiates

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Appendage

the martyrs' dream remains unfulfilled,
we race toward immortality,
not having learned to live,
      searching for succinct sentiments,
      find only engineered impediments,
more to being than just becoming,
      implement steps for resistance,
movement a means, its own cause,
      strive toward a journey of sentience,
penitents arrive equal,
with patience they start again,
 
the moldering pursuit of novelty,
refine search to a science,
formulas for efficient finding,
standardization breeds stagnation,
a wealth of words polish the surface,
how to fill the void?
exchange substance for volume,
strain for purity of being,
leave consistency an afterthought,
stacking graven stones,
to attain heavenly heights,
smoke, mirrors, shades of the shadow,
confined and constructed within walls,
a finite dream, limited in reach,
simile surrounds and symbols speak,
when tongues have grown dumb,
the assumptive arrow,
has missed its mislead,
mark these words,
we hang ourselves in time,
with the rope we have,
sold the ties that bind,
let us all hold hands,
form this enclosure most familiar,
least familial toe the line,
unaware, then cross over,
find peace,
with out,
 
[agape] is the school from,
whence all thoughts are taught,
awakening to a class,
already in session,
we know not what came,
before nor what will follow,
this brief period of consciousness,
only that we must stir,
to action those fellow students,
who slumber still

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Still

default, your domain undisputed,
a challenge to accept,
that we are the exception,
never asking exemption,
this said without pretention,
to come across the fulcrum,
you would know the tension,
a fate which lies in question,
 
how are we defined,
what is deviation,
when began our existence,
where is relevance,
in whom is found validity,
why is virility this undying flame,
you ask and vacillate,
between that which is most,
idolized and despised,
 
      are we still standard,
reach back though history,
      have we ever been,
doubt clouds days awaiting light,
      will we ever be,
sounds in the night seek prey,
      we hear your answer,
rhetoric lacking echo,
      the word unheard,
forgotten allegiance,
      trust is prime suspect,
forsaken sense atrophied,
      ringing deafness reigns,
 
all contrast, brilliance, excitement,
slumber in the numbness of it,
is your intent a blind,
infect with indifference,
pantomime surprised,
now play the part assigned,
errant pawns despised,
cast to your mobile marks,
scene, affect of the mind,
day traitor curtained by night,
town crier revealed at light,
 
discernment the encompassing lens,
fear the narrowing aperture,
when did you become sediment,
better to resign humanity,
if it will secure isolation,
leave remnant crumbs of soul,
for a cunning crocodile,
 your doctored tears only mock,
a funeral long since buried

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Homo Lupus Homini Est

You will not often find me 
In amongst the fold
Being chased from the pen
Wherein your treasure lies 
I will not clothe myself in sheep
I cannot be but that which I am

lone 
I am wolf

If we are inclined to meat
I will grant what is yours
But choose to hunt me down
And I will eat you alive
I’ll gnaw through my own limb
Before I’m trapped by your design
Neither day nor night possess danger
I will not gladly face
My wisdom is measured in scars
Pain has taught me to outlive
Those who shrank from its lesson
I follow in the footsteps 
of those who were never ensnared
And my prints will in turn
Mark the way for those that see 

simple symmetry
Lone 
I am wolf

You will not see me 
Where trees stand in rows
I may come once called 
But if you cry my name
Through the village streets
Torch lights will find only you
At the gathering of pitchforks 

I will not clothe myself in sheep

My song is not for the broods of man
Beyond his reach the forest is my domain
I sing of mountains and of moons
The chorus of my own kind
Many hear sorrow in these strains
Ever avoiding the presence of solitude
Never knowing the solace of hearing
Voices echo from every distant hill
Harmonies dancing upon the rocks


I cannot be but that which I am


My coat finds no friend
In the blazing glare of the sun
My eyes shine for the gentle glow
Of lunar light and sparkling snow
The flicker of the firmament 
The aurora’s phosphorescent stream
The smell of pines rising 
From their blanket of ice
The taste of the air
Lately bathed by the rain
Crystals crunching under tufted paws
The soft brush of willows 
Upon the weary brow

past present future
Simple symmetry
Lone
I am wolf

I can cipher the patterns of my world
But your structures are fig leaves
To cover this naked earth
The hairs on my spine, alone
Acknowledge your nonexistence 


In nurture and in nature
        So shall it be
    Past present future
     Simple symmetry
              Lone
          I am wolf

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Second Person Intimate

taking wing with the dawn,
of a new horizon,
we fix our gaze,
above the masquerade,
of near and dear,
beyond sublunary existence,
past the face of fear,
into the presence of awe,
and the source of wonder,
(Thou art)
the seal,
of strength unbidden,
the sign of promise,
my pole star revealed,
by the cover of night,
a candle sojourning, 
in the absence of light,

see the sections conical,
framed in windows convex,
each iris a prism,
translating the cryptic, 
language of creation,
manifesting the manifold,
embers of your spirit,
in silence awaiting,
the breathe which is,
light and life,

our hearts entwined,
in vibration sympathetic,
two sentient instruments,
woven in harmony,

you are a blessing bestowed,
the promise of grace,
in solace unceasing, 
granted without merit,
home is enclosed,
within your presence,
the fellowship of your eyes,
to commune with your mind,
is my desire,

searching the constellations, 
for Your subtexts, 
arms linked inseparable, 
in silent determination, 
with faces set, 

no trial exists,
which may cast down,
our countenance,

like the shadows, 
of the setting sun,
which beg perspective, 
proportion, my “little soul”,
tethered to the earth,
with the tips of toes,
you are the picture 
of beauty conceived,
by the master artist,
(Thou art)
my hope made evident, 
object of my adoration,
i am yours alone,
your mark, indelible

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Filius

are we nothing more than someone's son,
the sum of our parts, an equation,
unbalanced inside of history,
lives on loan from those who came before,
the unfinished fate of forefathers,
or are we infused with something more,
the spark which defines itself and us,
do we justify their existence,
all our spirits, are they separate,
can we claim even this as our own,
is it all just a question of firsts,
what if I should die before my time,
will my story find the light of day,
a fate forever overshadowed,
by peers and the context of the time,
what is more precious than our essence,
can it be ours if not separate,
if souls unify in common blood, 
can anything new be imparted,
does this make sharing impossible,
and with it our life's validity,
must we shake off the constraints of self,
to rise above our limitations,
our identity is tied to truth,
are we prepared to meet the mirror,
how can we commune with each creature, 
if no name exists to call them forth,
if we know not to which we belong
 
must nature nurture's enemy be,
what begot this life sustaining love,
is it from without and from within,
am I capable of renewing,
or furthering my own existence
 
questions that stimulate no action, 
are nothing but unfinished bridges,
roads that provide access not entry

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Whisper

come dream the moonlit night,
light enchanting softly,
belfry tolls time between,
so keen the heart awakes,
forsakes its own calling,
falling for sirens, still,
      she whispers to my soul,
bed, no solace gives,
sieves of time and soul,
coal, never to be gem,
hem me in with your soot,
put value underground,
not a sound survives, yet,
      she whispers to my soul,
fettered, all but spirit,
tear writ confessions speak,
weak, too little too late,
hate all that I’ve become,
now numb sense not to feel,
kneel before You, rent, while
      she whispers to me soul,
prone to this walking death,
breathe of life be my guide,
wide eventide's wings spread,
wed harmony with might,
light reflected so fair,
"wear your love with grace", this
      she whispers to my soul