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Best Poems Written by Robert Uy

Below are the all-time best Robert Uy poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Closure

Where once I could only taste
Sweet as sweetness should be, 
Now there is only but
A sense of hostility
Towards me.
Perhaps you should but could not; 
I say, “please, ” but you would not

Say goodbye.

Now you say it is not over
And that I should wait; 
So I do so, 
But is it in vain? 
Like in slow motion, 
Falling in mid-air, 
Faster and faster; 
Till the ground meets me
And my body shatters and breaks.

It’s been so long since I last saw you, 
My heart is now cramping in ache; 
But the ground has not yet met me, 
So as you say so, 
Here I lie and wait.

I miss you, 
And shall keep missing you, 
Till the time comes
When I will miss 
Missing you.

Details | Robert Uy Poem

Two Portraits of Love

The flower and the soil

   ‘O, flower, if you’ll be
rooted to me firmly, 
you’ll be standing proud; 
I’ll not let you fall.
I’ll nourish and nurture you
till Father Time calls, 
and wilt you and wither
into just a memory.


The nest and the nestling

   ‘O, little one, as long
as you’re in my care, 
protect you, I will, 
from the perils of life, 
till it’s time to move on
and you learn to fly; 
it’s enough for me that
I once was your shelter.

Details | Robert Uy Poem

A Mother's Advice To Her Daughter, the Bride-To-Be

When does forever become an option? 

Only when one can still find
Inspiration for living
Despite the stale smell of saliva
From the person across the bed.

Consider it better
To regret walking away
Than having stayed with much regret.

So should today the fading footsteps
With the banging door
—the sounds of an almost wedding— 
Be a reason for sleepless tear-fests, 
Tomorrow it can be a cause for appreciation
Or gratitude for thinking twice.

For it matters not how the heart aches now
For affection
Or lust; 
In the end what matters is how
The small talk before bedtime
—regardless of redundancy— 
Will always be interesting
Time after time after time.

Details | Robert Uy Poem

An Afternoon In February: a Lady's Sentiment

A riddle she could not decrypt,
    He was; and t'was the reason why
To him, her Love she would not give.
    Perhaps she would, someday, in time.

Details | Robert Uy Poem

Swan Song, Part I

Here I am
    Stranded between this and your goodbye.

    You,
Whose thatch is a-glow with fires of Beauty
  That burns my heart,
    unkempt and wild,
Sits atop a countenance borne of a thousand fantasies
  Of angels and fairies and their adorable air,
    That underneath the obvious purity
Lies some hidden childish naughtiness there.
  And though there have been wonder
    Like those seven shades that wipes the sky of its tears,
Or the earth blushing by the sun's appearance
  At dusk or dawn, as a lady does when meeting her lover,
    Or the sight of evening stars on a cloudless sky
Like jewels sparkling spread on velvet,
  None has stalled a heart 
    As your entrance to a scene;
As if pulchritude was conjured from adjectives
  To a breathing thing
    To which nothing has been of equal since.

Yet here I am
    Stranded between this and your goodbye.

Perhaps it has gone unnoticed
      At every opportune time,
   Irises have prayed to be blessed
To be reciprocated.
      And Heavens be thanked! Heavens be thanked
   When favor is given, that completes a day.
What more if engaged in a conversation
      Nay, more, fortunate enough to be bestowed
   With a couple of words
Such as a greeting, or a calling by name;
      Then I would be lost as a child would be in a jungle.
   Unnerved, devoid of the facility of expression,
Frozen as would be a dead tree in winter.

Yet here I am
    Stranded between this and your goodbye.

For every moment that we stood before each other
  Face to face, there dawns a discernment
    By this day and age
A dozen or so faces have come and gone;
  Faces that have caused the heart to prance wildly 
    To a rhythm unintentionally syncopated.
Faces that have shaped the perspective
  Of the panorama of future days.
    Faces that if they were modelling clay
And by some miracle were shaped to a single mold
  The outcome stood before me, face to face;
    Something I have never thought 
Even in the wildest imagination possible.
  Wild-eyed with wonder, a child witnessing the delicate
    Subtlety of a magician's handicraft.

I only wish I could have told you of these.

(continued)

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Attempts At Haiku

How she devours fare
And still look fairly pretty
Is beyond me.

---

Her exotic eyes, 
Like clear December skies, 
Can melt hearts of ice.

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Attempts At Haiku - Ii

I am not the sun
Which your world revolves upon; 
To you, I'm nothing.

-

Such classic beauty
As hers aglow that Venus
Would die of envy.

Details | Robert Uy Poem

Dysphoria - Mourning

Passions from expression prohibited
Floods an entire being
As arms ache from longing
To nurture, to shelter, to embrace
What on this bed cannot lie
And what in this house cannot live
Anymore.
In lieu a distant view
Suffices to nourish
A parched heart's thirst, 
And dreams of what cannot be
Invades unguarded moments, 
While despondent poisons
From the radio spill
Infecting from ear to soul; 

To be human, 
A sin that cannot be avoided.

Details | Robert Uy Poem

Soul and Body

Strong is the psyche, never failing its will,
     Like pillars of concrete, it bears weight unyielding;
Unbending and solid as cold, tempered steel,
     No pressure or pain can compel its conceding.
Though trials may test till the limits are reached,
     Unyielding, unbending, the soul knows no defeat.

But the vessel is weak, it may yet end this life,
     Like thin, brittle clay, it can easily shatter;
Battered and worn-out through the passage of time,
     Decaying to the same soil from whence it had mattered.
Though the soul is unyielding, and strong is the psyche,
     The vessel is weak, it may yet end this life.

Details | Robert Uy Poem

Heredity

When I was a child, all the neighbors said, 
   “He looks exactly like his father! ”
While back at home, said all my kin
   “He looks exactly like his mother! ”
Then came the age I went to school
   Teachers commented in perfect scroll
And wrote back then, “All things considered, 
   He is, in many ways, his sister! ”
So to home I scurried and found a mirror
   To know which one was true, and what a wonder
And curious! Yet surprised I should not be
   To find my father, mother, sister, all three—

      —staring back at me.