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Robert Zimmerman Poem
Smooth paper lay up on the desk.
My thoughts were odd, but not grotesque.
Will robots take what I did write,
extracting words by dark of night?
The robot came with stealth today.
It took my thoughts and words away.
The words were mine and reas’ning clear.
I asked myself, “What’s hap’ning here?”
The robot comes with guile and theft.
When words are stripped, what then is left?
It takes what others’ work has grown.
Has often reaped, but never sown.
Don’t tell me now there is no chance.
My gaze is fixed, no way askance.
My apprehension grows each time
I see a robot pose a rhyme.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2023
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
I walked my dog down by the junction
When he had a canine malfunction
He jumped on a snake
A bite he did take
And now he has reptile dysfunction.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2023
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
The one who brought fun, laughs, and smiles
travailed his path for miles and miles.
Amusing quips that filled his mind
Were formed by tragedies behind.
When one has never felt real pain
True joy the soul cannot attain.
Do not let pain that storms your way
Deprive your heart of joy each day.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2023
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
I watched the peaceful cattle stroll
around the pleasant field.
We gain from them both food and milk,
such benefits they yield.
However, when they eat the grass,
they digest all that stuff.
The gas produced from peaceful cows,
makes air a little rough.
But what about that lowly bug,
with termite as his name?
What he can do, with little help
can change the breathing game.
He gobbles up the wood and grass,
and does his worldly part.
Wet tears roll down my glist’ning cheeks
when I hear termites fart.
They pump their methane in the air,
not ending once it starts.
And all the people hang their heads,
whene’er the termite farts.
Termites are a major contributor of methane and CO2 into the atmosphere.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2024
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
The sound of silence shrieked today.
I ran... to not be near it.
The thing I thought was really weird,
I didn't even hear it.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2024
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
I saw a big bird on the table
I asked him to move... t'was unable
With feet in the air
His feathers were bare
I called his two legs Caine and Abel.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2023
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
I once had a doggy named Maisie
Who acted a little bit crazy
She didn't like fetch
and wouldn't play ketch
I guess that old dog was just lazy
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2023
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
Strict 8-8-5-5-8 meter.
I once owned a Pinto named Fred.
Its color was some shade of red.
I pulled on the choke.
The steering wheel broke.
But now it is mercif'ly dead.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2024
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
A Tree Like Me
This poem is in the CUBE16 form I created several years ago.
I stand alone
upon the plain
all others gone
just I remain
I see the sky
as clouds drift past
the sun spreads warmth
but will it last
I've stood right here
for fifty years
no time before
have I felt fears
as darkness flows
none else can see
my loneliness
a tree like me
the men now come
with blades of steel
what will I hear
what shall I feel
this is my home
through rain and snow
what can I do
where will I go
as men begin
I feel great fear
when cutting starts
the end draws near
when people come
they'll only see
a furrowed land
no tree like me
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2024
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Robert Zimmerman Poem
Time is not our master; it's our measure.
I watch the hands that sweep the face,
one second at a time.
While contemplating minutes passed,
they’re silent, as a mime.
The crawl of time is ruthless, and
considers others not.
Ignores life’s circumstances, plus
inhibits peaceful thought.
The mysteries of time abound.
All secrets so well kept.
I cannot understand its scope,
my reasoning, inept.
Time won’t move fast, it won’t move slow,
so steady is its pace.
Perception’s how it seems to flow,
its dust I can’t erase.
I know not when the clock will halt,
and move no more for me.
But when it does, I'll move into
The Lord’s eternity.
There are no days in God’s domain.
He measures time in love.
My journey ends when I’m secure
in His sure hands above.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2023
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