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Best Poems Written by John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo

Below are the all-time best John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

A Lullabyto the Lost

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my 
dear.
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm 
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from 
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles 
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they 
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a junkie  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
cost.
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

A Different Game

Friends and trouble go hand in hand.
Legends of the  neighborhood.
Like statues  and vacant buildings  still stand.

A crime in plain view no one ever saw.
Held hostage in fear.
The mouse sturggles to escape from 
cats claw.

Blood on the bricks  that stains my mind.
Time takes me away.
Yet never leaves the memory far behind.

Summers in the city nights run into days.
We turn are backs to the truth.
But in this game everyone plays.

Heros are villians  depending 
on who you are.
Stories told bout the other night.
Hidden truths  like the bat under the bar.

The players are future tombstones
Men glorified beyond there name.
the citys children caught within her  confines.
Forced to play a different  game.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

Dont Mess With Crazy Women

Darlin I just cant keep a eye on you.
Everytime I stop to relax.
I find were threw.

You say leave but dont go far.
Untill you find yourself my dear.
I'll be down at the bar.

So many moods for such a little person indeed.
Forget me when your pissed.
And call me whenever your in need.

Your love is like a brick.
It really hurts when  thrown.
You left me a million messages.
Dear crazy women please leave 
me alone.

You dont know how to act normaly let 
alone when you drink.
My darlin you dont need anything  except for a 
shrink.

And maybe a nice straight jacket with a muzzle 
to.
After you stabbed me lastnight.
You really didnt  have to call me in the hospital 
and tell me were through.

They say love is sweet but this 
seems more like a lemon.
The moral of this story fellas
is dont mess with crazy women.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

What I Think

Honey it's probaly not best befor I have
a drink.
To look deep in my eyes and ask what 
I think.

Cause Im  far from a romantic and
your far from a thinker.
Short skirt nice legs.
Your a go go dancer  and I just another drinker.

After a few glasses I'll savor  that last drop. 
I'll lose my mind.
And hopefully you'll lose your top.  

have a private party for only two.
well shed more than ambition.
 As i drink outta your shoe.


I'll empty your liquor cabbinet  and you'll keep
my wallet shrinkin.
My dear it dont take a rocket scientist to
figure out what Im thinkin.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

Mornings are dreadful time in life unless waking beside gorgeous woman hopefully
a not married one husbans can be such a downer.
And when ya wake to a warm beautiful creature by your side.
And the first thought that comes to your mind is i wonder whats for breakfest.

Then ya probaly cant read the menu to start with and desserve
to have a oversized weight lifter re arrange your ribs.

Im a southern man once means several things non of which means im normal.
And this morning finds my yerning for a trip and widespread mischief.
My amigo had vanished after are trip south of the boarder I remember saying
to myself as i watched him running naked across the dessert being chased
by the flying monkeys he was surley seeing after his consumption of a foreign substance

There goes a fine american.

I would have ran after him but but i didnt want thoose things to turn there attention to me
I herd they had a thing for southern actscents.
And theres nothing worse than a bunch of horney flying monkeys trust me
Ive delt with this problem befor.

and being it was happy hour i knew my slightly insane amigo would understand
in all his naked glory.
Besides I left him some sneakers and a sixpack.
And kept his credit card for safe keeping.

Naked men have no place to keep credit cards and I figured he was in no state to handle
money.

So as i sit behind the wheel ready to to get lost in the madness of fast food and
the ant hill of insanity that is wall mart i turn my thoughts to vegas.
For where would a lost nude slightly insane person run to and feel at home.

I had turn the music up to drown out the sound of whoever was in the trunk.
I figured if i had put sombody in there in a drunken moment.
It had to be for a good reason.

And so with slightly hungover mindset are road begins.
and so with that do the games also.
And i figured hanging around with a cops wife wasnt the smartest idea.
That and im allergic to bullets.

My muse and 16 year old spirtiual advisor had phoned me to say that.
I probaly needed to Invest in the spirt of Jack Daniels today.
And hey she had went to church more than once so who was I to argue.

With a five five spitfire by the name of tinker.
so with A unknown companion in the trunk not helping my hangover i was off
to the races Untill next time kiddies.
Adios and im off to find my amigo.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

Private Party

College party red cups  all across the room.
we caught each others eye.
Inbetween  dances  if eyes were a camera they'd 
be caught in zoom.

I know you came here with another guy.
Sixfoot four football player.
Tried to say whats up but blockhead just told 
me hey jerk dont even try.

But when the doors locked the window will always 
work.
Time to make ya smile and make your roomate  
smirk.

We'll stay up allnight andi dont mean watching laurel  and hardy.
Just put a tie on the door handle.
Cause this a private party.

No people no chips and cheap beer.
Will play hide in seek in the dark.
Honey iI hate to say it's no aciddent i just
grabbed your rear.

Just as the real fun had just begun  sombody 
kicked in the door.
It was that linebacker and his band of unmerry knuckleheads 
All pissed off and standing six foot four.

Punches thrown  and more than feelings were hurt
as my  private party came to abrupt end.
Thrown from a window.
Impaled on a garden gnome
Does anyone have a hopital they can reccomend.

At the ER I met this hot  nurse.
Who had a mini pharmacy hidden 
in her purse.

I knew it wasnt good when she gave me a pill and said 
Oh no.
got put in the nut ward  spent the night 
talkin to my left toe.

Caught a ride  home with my best
friend Marty.
He said man what caused all this.
And I replyed  I was trying to have a private party

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

Goobye

Close the door and never
think twice.
Love is a gamble.
Inwhich we all roll the dice.

Many dreams are broken under
a moonlit sky.
Yet no word hold the pain 
like goodbye.

I rememeber it so very well.
Nights wrapped in passion.
As silent promises as lovers 
we tell.

Tressure thoose thoughts 
And buty them deep..
take my heart.
For its forever yours to keep.

Still night memeories show so very clear.
They torture thoose thoughts.
that tell me your no longer here.

the brige now burnt  stands as a memorial
underneath a starlit sky.
I find solace in the pain.
 as all i hear is goodbye.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

Watching Dreams Die

A wrong  path taken  a sudden curve in the road.
So you take  a fall over some false code.
Thrown in a cell.
Taking the blame for thoose secrets we never tell.

Concrete  walls cast shadows over sky. 
So many souls trapped watching dreams die.

You had a little baby now she's a cute little girl so you learn.
Years drag slowly as pinwheels turn.

No one plans on making  loved ones
cry.
In a place life does not exist.
You spend your time watching dreams die.

Was it the system or just a stupid mistake.
Long after the bars.
The guilt alone you will take.

You missed your mothers funeral but her 
 her heart died with you.
A letter informed a inmate his marriage
was threw.

You lost part of your life this you cannot 
deni.
Trapped behind bars watching dreams 
die.

Details | John Patrick Robbins Aka Gonzo Poem

The Drying of the Ink

No longer at desk the typewriter has been given 
it's final rest.
As he cant recall the day or year.

The once strong mind is closed the body
but a museum or tribute to what once was.
he his home but locked within himself.

Vist's from thoose who once knew the man 
are like people viewing a body at a wake.
he calls from within the shell for for release.

Yet his lips will not move his voice never sounds.
Inside he burns for the chance to run as the river
chases the sea.

To be the man they never knew and the one he 
could admire and both despise.

The page sits in typewriter like a willing 
eager lover in bed. 
Waitting in stockings that cling to delicate thigh.
the tears escapes it's minds prison.

He thirsts for it like a drunk for that morning drink
of whiskey waitting hands held togather trying
to keep from shaking.

He sits as a painter without hand.
watching the most beautiful sunset fade without 
a chance of ever capturing this moment.

The ink is drying he feels it everyday.
Soon he hopes like the dust that does gather
he will be swept away.