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Ed Roberts Poem
The Bird and the Coconut
There was a bird
Flying in the jungle
It came across a coconut
Hanging from a tree
The bird landed on the nut
Surveyed its surface carefully
And started to peck against its shell
The bird pecked and pecked
For nearly an hour
Before it stopped
With all of its effort
It was barely able to leave a small scratch
On its tough surface
After resting for a few moments
The bird flew away
The next day the bird once again
Came flying into the jungle
It found the same tree
Landed on the same coconut
And once again started to peck
Against its surface
Again
After nearly an hour
The bird stopped
And flew away
The scratch had turned into
A very small hole
Each and every day
The bird would repeat this process
Each and every day
The hole in the coconut shell
Grew larger
And deeper
Finally
After many days
The bird was rewarded for its efforts
And white milk
Started to flow from the shell
The bird drank some of the milk
Then continued to work around the edges
Of the hole in the coconut
Until it was satisfied
With its size and shape
Then
With a quick hop
The bird disappeared
Inside the shell
Finally it had made
A new home
For several months
The bird lived inside this safe haven
Until a strong storm came
And knocked the coconut shell
From the tree
To the ground
Once again
The tiny bird
Started each day
Flying into the jungle
Once again
Looking for that perfect
Shell
Ed Roberts 01/28/16
(Inspired by Dr. Who season 9 episode 11 “Heaven Sent”)
For the past several years I have tried to change the world with poetry
I keep knocking on the door
Trying to reach anyone who will listen
Sometimes they do
Other times
They close the door
In my face
Still
On this door
I will continue to keep knocking
Hopefully one day
The door will simply break
Or fall from its hinges
And I can finally go inside
To stay
And the words will come out
Forever
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2016
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Ed Roberts Poem
There was a man
Who left a bar
He didn't have too much to drink
Or so he thought
It was just a short way home
And he knew the way
Even with his eyes closed
And they were not far down the road
There was another man
With his wife and kids
Coming home from a vacation
Or trying to
But there was a man
Who left a bar
Driving with his eyes closed
In the wrong lane
Without his lights
Maybe the roads were a little too slick
Maybe it was just too late
Maybe it was just "supposed" to happen
There was an accident
There came another car
Filled with a man
And several young men
Too old to be children
Way too young
To deal with what they saw
Or what they had to do
But they got there first
There was a boy
Who knelt in the rain
Only 12
Holding another 16 in his arms
As he breathed his last breath
Then he left to stop the cars
That were coming up way too fast
Soon he was joined by the others
That had the same thing happen to them as well
Help came too late
Even for the baby that lived the longest
No matter how hard anyone tried
No one was left alive
You see
I am writing this
Because there really was a man
Who thought he hadn't had too much to drink
And he really left the bar that night
And I was there too
Part of me died as well
And part of me grew up
To write this
Maybe to find a way to understand
And maybe just to find a way
To reach another man
Who might leave a bar
Who thinks he hasn't had too much to drink.
Ed Roberts 10/24/00
Currently my godson Rayce is working with several students from the University of Oklahoma to film an educational video/documentary based on this poem. For more information please visit https://www.facebook.com/inourtimeproductions
At the age of twelve there was little I could have done to change the outcome of that night. This is not the case now.
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2014
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Ed Roberts Poem
There is a poem I wrote several years ago that several people have written me saying how it helped them decide not to take their own life. Several people have asked me "How can you write a poem that can actually save the life of another?" My answer is simple, spend a day in bed with a loaded gun and then be willing to tell the entire world what it took to keep you from pulling the trigger. With me it came down to ---
5 Single Words
There was a man
Only 30 years of age
Yet
He found himself at the end of the road
He had lost his job
His career
His money
His savings
What there had been of it anyway
All because of a simple accident
Well, not so simple of an accident
For he was also facing the possibility
The possibility that he would never walk
Again
He had fought
Tried to look at every possible angle
Until he came to but one conclusion
One that a person
That has never been in this situation
Could possibly ever understand
He waited
Waited there in bed
The bed that he was becoming way too accustomed to
Until his wife had left for work
Until the kids had been sent off to school
Waited there until he was finally
All alone
Yes
He had argued and fought
This was against all that he believed in
But there it was
Hidden in the words of an obscure insurance policy
To some
He was worth more dead
Than alive
Surely they would understand
He tried to explain it in a note
He knew that God might not be able to
But he pleaded for their forgiveness
And he was afraid that somehow
Somehow he might just become to them
A burden
This was just more than he could take
So he laid there in that bed
All alone
With a loaded pistol in his hand
Fighting a losing battle
With the simple reasoning and logic
That had driven him to this decision
In the very instant
The moment when it had finally come down
Down to raising the barrel to his head
He heard a whisper
A voice
Barely audible
But familiar somehow
5 words
That was it
19 letters
That made him stop
Who will find your body
Would it be one of the kids
Possibly his father
That said that he might come over
Or would it be his wife
There were so many possibilities
So many different people
And that was when it hit him
Hit him how really blinded
He had let himself become
He put the gun away
And was very careful
Careful that no one else saw how often
For the next few days
That he cried
Some people would argue
That this was simply his conscious
That there really isn’t such a person
As God in heaven
But
I know one man that will argue this point
And do so with great reason
For in the darkest hour and moments
Of a 30-year-old man’s life
God himself came down from heaven
And spoke just 5 single words
And if you haven’t figured it out by now
I thank Him every single day of my life
That He was there
To give me the strength
And the courage
To listen
Ed Roberts 8/04/02
At the age of 30 I had 3 1/2 gallons of 350 degree grease spill down both of my legs from my knees down. Two different doctors told me I would probably never get out of a wheelchair. By the grace of God I have climbed three mountains since then.
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2014
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Ed Roberts Poem
Refugee
Tonight I awoke
To the voices
The voices that drifted through the darkness
Straight into my soul
Yesterday I stood there, my son beside me
As the “soldiers; dragged my neighbor
From his home
Into the street
For what seemed like hours
They beat him
Cursed at him
Then while he lay there
Broken on the ground
They chopped off his hand and foot
With a machete
They left him there
In the street
To die
That night my son woke me up
Screaming
Please don’t let them get me
He begged
In the darkness
My wife and I gathered all we could carry
And with our son
We left the only home
I had ever known
Not knowing where we were going
Only knowing we must leave this place
Behind
Another voice came
Three men came into our village
Last month
They took my daughter
Along with a dozen other young girls
They left many behind
Slaughtered like animals
For weeks
My cousin and I searched
Through the jungle
And nearby villages
By the grace of God
We found my daughter
We killed the two men who were guarding her
Had we known what they had done to her
Their’s would have been a much slower death
They had passed her between six of them
They had made her their ‘bride”
They deserved far worse
I know we can not return to our village
I know we must go far from here
The only thing I do not know
Is where we can go
To be safe
One voice after another keep coming
We have walked in the desert for 5 days now
Some will give us water
Others give us a place to stay
But only for one night
My children are hungry
They need water
We need a place to call home
We made it to the border
To where we told it would be safe
Men in uniforms shot us with water cannons
And tossed tear gas at us
One of the canisters hit my son in the chest
I am afraid he will be blind now
They have stopped the trains
People yell and curse at us
As we walk by
We have been walking for a week now
I am afraid my wife will not be able to walk
Much farther
I am afraid neither will I as well
What will happen to my family
When I am gone
I woke up
Drowning
In my own tears
All of these voices
Slamming my soul
From so many directions
All of them ending with the same few words
Where can we go
To be safe
Ed Roberts 9/16/15
Most people do not have to look too far back in their family history to realize that the very lives of our family members often depended on the care and compassion of others. In so many ways, we are all refugees.
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2015
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Ed Roberts Poem
She stood there
For just a moment
Flashes of the past filled each tear
The morning sickness
That seemed to last most of the day
For the first three months
The twelve hours of labor
Her screaming at each growing pain
Praying everything would be ok
The hours she spent afterward
Just holding him in her arms
Thanking God
That he was healthy
The four o’clock feedings
His first step
His first day at school
His first date
The day he graduated high school
Everything went by so fast
A blur to most
So many memories
So many teardrops now falling at her feet
Yes
She stood there
Actually for several moments
Then quietly bent down
And placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek
And slowly stepped away
As they closed the lid of the casket
That held the body of her only son
They carefully folded the flag
In silence
Stepped forward
And handed it to her with a tear-filled salute
Many would say we each should feel the death of a soldier
They should be so much more than just a name on a report
But today
She lost her son
And there were no more words to offer
To replace the hole that was left
In her heart
Every day, every hour, every moment
A mother always remembers
Ed Roberts 10/04/09
Dedicated to those who truly understand the meaning of sacrifice and those who put their very lives on the line each day to protect our freedom.
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2014
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Ed Roberts Poem
There are those
Who will tell you
How to write your book
They will tell you
What has to be at the beginning
How you should develop your plot
Your characters
And many
Will even tell you
How it should end
What they will not tell you
Is that this is your book
And it is yours to write
Not theirs
There are those
Who will tell you
How to sing your song
They will tell you
What key you should sing it
When to sing it fast
When to sing it slow
When and where
You should show emotion
And once again
How your song will end
And like before
They will not tell you
This is your song to sing
Not theirs
There are those
Who will tell you
How to live your life
They will tell you
What schools you should attend
When and who you should marry
How you should make your living
And many times
Who you should worship
And even how to pray to them
And as before
Often they will tell you
How your life should end
Again what they won’t tell you
Is that this is your life to live
Not theirs
My message to you today
Is simple
Write your own book
You can start at the back
And finish at the front
You can even have the words backwards
If you wish
In the end
This is your book to write
Sing your song
As only you can sing it
Let the words flow from your heart
Whisper if you wish
Or shout until you rattle the windows
Only you know the words
And this is your song to sing
It belongs to no one else
But you
Live your life
As only you can live it
Let no person tell you
What you can
Or can not do
Remember
It is the face in the mirror
That you must live with each day
Do you best to make the world around you
A better place
For yourself
And for others
And let God decide
How and when
Your life will end
Write your own book
Live your own life
And sing your own song
And bring a joyful noise
Unto this world
Ed Roberts 4/18/15
www.edrobertspoetry.com
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2015
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Ed Roberts Poem
Be not so quick
To announce our death
Set aside your shovel and your spade
There will be no burial here
Not as long as these lips have words to form
Or there are tales to be spun
From these withered hands
Yes, we have been quiet
Overwhelmed by today’s clutter
You live too fast
We speak
But you have no time to hear
You can not get culture
At your drive-through windows
Nor can we simply dish it out
For you to scan at will
Ours are words with meaning
They are to be savored for their value
They refuse to be simply devoured
Without leaving some taste behind
Please stop for just a moment
I promise to attempt to entertain you
Maybe it won’t hurt as much as you fear
You will not leave here untouched
For if I fail I will simply lie back
And let you cover my memory
To go about your life
As you began
In darkness
Poetry is not dead
As long as a single soul survives
Ed Roberts 5/14/91
(The title piece of my first book)
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2014
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Ed Roberts Poem
This is a poem that I am asking all who read it share today. This would have been Holly's birthday. There is no life that is without meaning, there are none of us that should ever be forgotten
Who will remember Holly
Who will remember Holly
Some people might ask
Was she famous
An actress
A singer
Was she on television
Or the radio
Who was she
She was a mother
A daughter
A sister
And friend
She was a woman
One many of you
Will easily be able
To relate with
A single mother
Who had 2 wonderful children
One nine
The other only one
A woman who worked very hard
At UPS
To try and keep a roof over their head
And food upon the table
She was a person
Most people would say
Was someone
That you would want to meet
She was happy
And tried to bring that happiness
Into the lives
Of all around her
She was the one
Who would insist that you had cake
On your birthday
And would do everything she could
To ensure that this would happen
You might find yourself asking
Repeating a question
One that I have asked you before
Who will remember Holly
But the question you should be asking
Is
Why
Holly was a wonderful woman
A single mother
A mother of two children
Whose life was cut tragically short
For at the age of 31
Someone came into her house
And took away
Her life
Today
That someone is still out there
And her mother and father
Alice and Bobby
Are left to care for her children
She was the person
The one special friend in my life
Who first asked this question
Who will remember Holly
My answer to her tonight
Is that I always will
And hopefully
Now you will too
Ed Roberts
12/05/15
We never lose the ones we love
Not if we carry the smallest piece of them
Forever
In our hearts
Written for
Holly Bernice Van Auken
2/6/83 – 4/7/14
She now waits for her family in Heaven
Copyright © Ed Roberts | Year Posted 2016
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