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Best Poems Written by Rory Galbraith

Below are the all-time best Rory Galbraith poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Soldier of Tin

He took apart
his soldier of tin
to see for himself
what lay within
expecting honour, strength
valour and pride
he eagerly toiled
to get inside
with soldier now 
cleaved in two
he saw what he thought 
could not be true
half of his warrior 
now cupped in each hand
he gazed at an emptiness 
he could not understand.

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A Poem That Rhymes

I do not know if this is odd
but for me, most times
I do not feel the need 
to write a poem that rhymes
I generally find 
you see
that when that writing bug has bit
rhyming is not my go to proclivity 
‘cos when I do  
have something to say
rhyming very often
just gets in the way. 
so I’ll leave you with
this little thought
if my poem doesn’t rhyme
does that mean it’s all for nought.

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My Ole Hound Dog

I was having one of “those” mornings
being all boo-hoo 
and feeling sorry for myself
just counting the ways 
that things were so uncool
when my ole hound-dog came up 
and nuzzled my thigh
I reached down and rubbed his ears
and got to thinking
do hound-dogs ever get the boo-hoos
and I realized
yeah, they probably do
with that revealing flash of insight
I got down on my knees
and gave my ole hound-dog a hug so tight 
that it hitched my breathing
he got to wagging and licking
tossing his head and smiling
and I got to making all that 
talking-to-my-ole-hound-dog-baby-talk
while we were having ourselves 
a good ole time together
I got to thinking again 
when you get the boo-hoos 
and start feeling sorry for yourself
what you must try and do
is give comfort to someone else
and if the closest someone else 
is your very own wag-licking ole hound-dog
then you just get down on your knees 
and let that comfort flow
while I was doing just that
and we were nose-to-nose
we looked into each other’s eyes 
and I had another revealing flash of insight
I wasn’t giving comfort to my ole hound-dog
he was giving comfort to me.

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Being Dead

It’s not 
being dead
that concerns me
it’s all the things
I will have left unsaid
all the things
I will have left undone
all the sorries
I never gave
all the thank yous
I never conveyed
all the calls
I meant to make 
or return
but never did
all those things
that when I’m dead
I can never do
or undo
we only get
to go round once
there’s no going back
and I know
I won’t get it right
on this 
my first 
and only time round.

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A Near Death Experience

A point to ponder… 
why I wonder
when we are young
and get jerked awake
by a dream or a nightmare
are we hugged and comforted
given the assurance 
“It’s not real, it’s not real!!”
and when we are older
and get jerked awake
by a dream or a nightmare
we tell ourselves
with great relief
“It’s not real, it’s not real!!”
whether young or old
we will however marvel
at how unbelievably 
real it was
but will gratefully accept
the comforting fact 
that it wasn’t real
not any of it
it all happened 
inside our heads
but  
when someone 
has a near-death experience
and they tell us  
of all the wondrous things
that they saw and did
inside their heads
whilst clinically dead
there are those of us
who emphatically believe
that what went on
inside that head
on that occasion
was in fact real
proving beyond doubt
that there is life after death
that that experience
fuelled and moulded
by the unknown forces at play
inside our heads
whilst clinically dead
actually happened
what I wonder 
is the difference between the two
all of it 
every single bit of it 
happens 
inside our heads.

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Humans Are Definitely a Funny Old Lot

Humans are definitely a funny old lot
there are billions and billions of us
but a handful of old white-heads are deciding what’s what 
this handful of old white-heads who rule and reign
decide for us what it is we can do, what it is we can say 
where it is we can go, what it is we can wear 
who we can marry, to whom we can pray 
they promulgate our laws, our rules, our boundaries and learning
imprisoning and fining us if we dare disobey
yet render themselves completely immune to all proclamations
bribing and lying when they go astray
they pay themselves obscene sums of money
for keeping us subservient and firmly on track  
yet they tax us for this and they tax us for that
ensuring that most of our pay-checks are given straight back
safely ensconced in his citadel of power
a single old white-head 
stroking his ego and thumping his chest can make a decision  
that leaves thousands and thousands of us brutally dead
I do not understand, it is beyond my ken 
how is it possible, how can it be, that only one 
of our billions and billions
can cause so much pain and can get so much done
so, I say once again
humans are definitely a funny old lot
there are billions and billions of us
but a handful of old white-heads are deciding what’s what.

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Not Now Please Not Now

Have you ever reached
into that bag of goodies
that is your life
and experienced 
that tummy-dropping sensation
when you find it
to be a tad empty
a little short-handed
not containing what you need
for your current situation
and everything 
absolutely everything
becomes one massive 
all pervasive
reverberating echo
making you feel
positively, undoubtedly 
unable to cope 
and in your mind
all you can hear   
pulsing   
over and over 
is a great big disbelieving
“Not now, please not now!!” 
and then 
you pucker up
pull your shoulders back 
ignore the smell
and scrape the burnt 
top layer of toast into the sink
leaving the deluge of burnt crumbs for later
‘cause hey
we all love a good ole buttery crunch.

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That Which Hurts Is So Easy To Say

That which hurts is so easy to say
but that which comforts
needs careful consideration
we can blurt out what hurts
but what comforts
needs time for some thought  
the one is always loaded
ready to fire
the other needs priming
consideration and thought
the one is delivered
with forcefulness and thunder
asking no quarter
the other 
with a tentative smile
and that obligatory affirmation 
“Nooo, I mean it.”
the one tears deep
the other uplifts
we know this
because we all have been 
bedevilled by both
we have delivered both
and we have received both
yet nothing has changed
one cannot help thinking 
that it never will change
why is that
I wonder.

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What Does It Mean To Think

What does it mean to think
to have thoughts
to have ideas and opinions
to have likes and dislikes
to trust and to distrust
to dream, to contemplate, to analyse 
to plan, to postpone  
to love, to hate
some thoughts remain inside
some thoughts are spoken out loud
what is it
this intangible that we call thought
this thing called thinking
who or what is doing it 
who or what decides the topic
the stance, the angle
we are the thinkers
but we are seated back there in the carriage
mere passengers 
we are also up front in the caboose
shovelling the coal
hand on the throttle, hand on the brake
doing the driving
we are both passenger and driver
my immediate thought is
how can that be
I have come to realise that it can be 
simply because it can and is 
that at least is my thought on the subject
that is what I think
I do however harbour this thought
what does it all mean
I think that I have thought enough
all this thinking has made me weary 
I will now go and lie down
and let both the passenger in the carriage  
and driver in the caboose
guide my thoughts where they must
and I will dutifully follow
alack and alas 
what does it mean to think.

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Hope

Hope
is it real
or is it just wishful thinking
we all know 
that very often  
hope is all that we have
that hope springs eternal
that hope is an integral
some would say 
an essential requirement 
a must have to get through life
to make the bad times bearable
enabling us to picture a future 
that is better than our past
that is better than our present
hope is the projecting forward
to a future 
that we plan
people and choreograph
in our hope-filled imaginations
a future that is so much better
than what was
and what is 
we are told
to always 
hope for the best
is hope
mankind's most oft used
biggest and best
placebo.