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Best Poems Written by Rick Rupinski

Below are the all-time best Rick Rupinski poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Night In Detorit

It's three O' Clock
Outside Detroit.
The breeze alone,
Moves with sole alliance,
Throughout the forest; 
Beckoning me to silence:
Leaving me to watch
My Thoughts wander
Through The landscape of
Disregard.

A symphony within 
Its own schism.

To grasp
A cloud... is to
Grasp a thought.

Shall I tantalize
Quite like she? 
Livid moon, the coquet, 
Marauding beyond
Thin strips of veil
(Baiting hints of bedevil-try),
Only to reveal sudser...
My fingers shalln't ever 
Feel her quicksilver wan--
Hitherto now begging solace--
Left alone
With but this humble idiom:
   "So mote it be"

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I See What You Did There

Though all are blessed with eyes to see,
Eyes never lay sight upon the seer;
No retina perceives the seedling
beneath its iris.

Ocular nerves sense Occam-ented pictures
Of identity: portraits framed by
Ourselves, Us, and Others
- Whose eyes perceived whole
But whose sense perceived naught.

	How is one to know
	Who it is for whom
	Their heart beats?

Romantics look for themselves
In others and the observation
Of their heart’s beloved ideals:
Experiences of beauty, tangibly
Vicarious.

Intellectuals observe through dissection
And kill the living
As quickly as it was born,
So depth of connection
Is sufficed by cold scalpels.

The romantic and the heart
proceed  differently
and disconnect from the disconnected
intellect; yet each of Us
Is perpetually lost without Our Other.

Scalpels vanquish all resistance
But all attempts to vulnerable depth
mistake the sentimental
  Leaving only the literal.

Yet poetry is not figurative solely,
as the romantic wandering between objects
discovers when shadows of the soul
reveal the mistaking mates
checkered by bad lighting.

	Vulnerable adjacency’s quakes
	Beget depths of valleys, forsaking
	Foresight to be bound to pits.

Seers see nothing in fables
Yet tell tales of vivid startles
Recounting cinematic sights
That the pupil finds to be hind,
Thus doubts one without rods
since Jesse was no profit;
therefore,
why make testaments to the old before the new?

P a t i e n c e.
For the seer has not yet spoken
To teach what I's obstruct.

Truth -- with mighty capital -- is thought
Deferred beyond any measure,
Depreciated for bearing a used cross.
With inheritance in question,
What flows from this river
Already stepped in?
Understanding, which can only be understood
If known, and only known
Through appreciation: the selfless
know thyself.

Understanding is
		So difficult
			        To understand.
			        Best reflected
		When succumb
To illumined flow.

Elucidation is for the patient.
The heart and the mind
Have more to say
Than either can bear to hear.
They can only write each other
And print in their discursive style
Garnering attention to distract
From stillness.

So to stillness go:
Also sprach nicht zeitgeist,
For Truth is timeless
Due to incorporeal
Incorporation in the real,
Another name for the subtle,
Since it is for all and for none,
Thus, the isolated primes
Find reunion despite the parallax
isolating them, for two hemispheres
unite at a horizon and though
So much may never touch
what be so near
The union is true.

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Hope of Spring

Out the window flows my gaze
Blissfully journeying the horizon,
-- Like the fair sea bestowed per Poseidon --
Lost among secular golden haze.
  The sky leered angrily gray
And bitterly cried frigid tears
From the fjords with ducts’ flowing fears
Trapping man like a ghastly cliché.
  Chills gripped many a tree
And strangled life from all limbs
Drowning in white like a child without fins
Now life must resurrect debris.
  Aye, Apollo ogles over the hidden,
The perfume of life gleams
And so everything seems
To breathe breath brio-ridden.
  All in the course of 365 days
Can so much wither or flourish in a bouquet.

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Villanelle For Beauty

Beauty chortles forth a frabjous,
interrupting static sanity,
Misheard through ears abstruse.

Boojums guised as proper
Cast labels fathoming blind vanity --
Yet, beauty chortles forth a frabjous.

They are the true Doctor
Jekyll’s -- hiding the reality
Misheard through ears abstruse.

Bolt nothing into the locker
Of recycled, rusted normality;
For within beauty lies a frabjous.

Wear robes of bold laughter,
Sing out of men's obscurity
Misheard through ears abstruse. 

Disregard these pyrite-crusted beggars,
To true ordinary, simply fools & jesters.
In beauty there lies a frabjous
Misheard through ears most abstruse.

Details | Rick Rupinski Poem

The Unknown

I ask you, “Where might we go:
A land to, or a land fro;
Let the land like a river flow.
Leave yourself behind, and dare,
Dare to know Thoreau.”
 
Ahh, how the day is
The simplest of all revolutions.
The sun, bright - cannot be missed--
Once departed without ever departing; now 
Obvious after lunar-evolution.
The plotting and seeking,
Groping and the hoping:
Blindly in the night
Seeing that which is apart from sight.
 
But now.
Now, we must depart
To meet our journey…
*Sigh*
See how the sun has risen to set.
Come so far without movement
Tell me: does it regress?
Or is it perhaps, progress.
Disregard my laughter;
For who is the fool?
The fool, or he who follows..
 

The room takes shape
Darkness illuminates
Like light cracking drapes,
Bare or not, it stimulates..
A stairwell brings inquisition,
Beckoning steps toward the next
And the next and the rest!
Ah yes, the rest,
As many interpretations as a note.
 
               II
See the equations before you,
Like onions-- keep your eyes peeled.
Wryly dancing around thy head.
Stall you tears; fears be shed
Forget the illusion
And any a delusion.
Logic and feeling rotate to portray
This sage's mental ballet.
Voodoo of the mental juju,
With "x2 +y2 = 1" as the tutu.
Confidence in that knowledge
Shall blend solemn passage
For the minute hand is spinning,
The hour hand a'twirling
Let us make haste for:
There was never any
Now will there ever exist
Any time to lay to waste!
 

Approach the stairs,
Harken that specter-stare!
Alas, in the dark; notice be absolved.
Yonder face far from sight's resolve
Dare to describe it!
A head with shade as pigment
Dark & rich like the night
Translucent in sight.
Eyes leer like pearl
(Allow peace to unfurl)
A face serving witness:
Purely as a pittance
Dread not the shade;
Light astounds from dark's fade
Virgil kept Dante from Oblivion
With true, epic passion
Do not think that face: death
Quotidian rhythm is life's breath.
Leave that Specter
Come, follow your mentor.
See how he fades;
And you nearly bowed, scathed.
 
Now ascend the stairs,
To who knows where...
Go, before the clock begins
And forsake no secular reins
Buy the ticket. Take the ride.
Quite simply, It seems
Sunken jewels always gleam
 
Depart into the unknown
No need for any asylum

Details | Rick Rupinski Poem

A Mid-Afternoon's Dream

Let us drift, you and me,
Beyond -- Straight into eternity --
To where eyes need not see,
And like pearls can gleam
Brightly as the morning sea
Washing along the shore line,
Revealing treasure long-hidden;
Never  far, perhaps a tad forgotten

Is it any less treasurable?
Perhaps more.. Even beyond measurable:
Now that sand has been uncovered
And this beauty recovered--
But let us not digress..
Lest we act like a congress
And bumble like baboons
No.
Let not depreciation occur
Let treasure's interest concur
And incur cherishment --
Even if buried under shore--
Never losing any value
Not to this man of sinew...

For I miss my treasure
I miss the pearl eyes
And their delicate sighs...
My love and my pleasure.
Indeed, I miss what salt
Has tried to cover
And make covert
Putting time to fault..
Yes.. as I circumnavigate
This poem and its sporadic tone
Like ancient lines in old tomes
Of words that may rhyme with circumnavigate
That may lend meaning
To the overall message
The theme preceding...

Have I told you I love you today?
Love you like Earth loves May
The month of rebirth and life,
Of splendid weather and pipers' fife ,
That creates a smile radiant
Of a perfect hue; a gradient
Far beyond the most beautiful colour,
Far beyond any god's favour...
Have I told you I love you lately?

Perhaps some time you may allow me
(In the form of some better rhymes)
To express the most aeonic words
Which like the artist’s palette
Encapsulate exactly how 
I feel about you, alone,
My darling, Dana.

Details | Rick Rupinski Poem

Freak-Out Jive

Freaks in costumes,
Guised under normalcy
Amongst their own--
Making peacocks to
Appear as paupers--
Disheveled  & unrivaled
In this world of their own.

Smoke escapes plasticity;
Drenched with green
Up against the night sky
Out against the city's contour.
Escaping as time
Once escaped with
Their noble youth.

Time surely aged them--
That vile vandal,
The one poets scorn..
Surely she would take
As she can accord;
But then, is it 
Not man that leads a romp?

If time is the dance
Then fun is the tune. 
Cascading the masquerade
Transcending any law--
Of logy memory.
One must make query: 
What dreams await death's bed

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A Glass

Does it begin half-empty?

No – entirely empty,

Yet easily made full –

That is, until a pair

Of lips sips down

Their fill of cool water.


Now the glass is halved.


Half-full. Half-empty.

Two factions rebelling

Within one army, rivaling.

It is not fullness that rules:

‘tis the mouth and how full-

-ly satisfied the lips are left.

Details | Rick Rupinski Poem

Sonnet To Schism

As these long-stifled clouds part
Across the indigo sky,
Tears purge the nimbus 'way dry,
From my dearest desire's heart.
  Ascending to noble serenity
Through the stygian unknown;
Breaking through Everest’s stone
Forever-- or at least eternity. 
  Although all of the windows may
Open, and briskly circulate,
Like blood clots they articulate:
The seal shall never break away.
  Alas, the only truth a man
May know is the honest candor
That there may not exist answers
To any of the questions spokén.
  To the yarns of fate resign
  Despite free-will’s coy rhyme.