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Best Poems Written by Kristie Raburn

Below are the all-time best Kristie Raburn poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

So Many Books

There were so many books at Barnes and Noble’s
That I wanted to buy but I wasn’t able
Up at the counter with my chin in my hand
I said to the sales clerk… I have another plan

At my low bank balance I did curse 
As I put my wallet back in my purse
I pulled out my phone and I began to type
Amazon.com, open morning and night

I entered the ISBN number
Of the books I had found
And quickly my frown 
Was upside down

For there on my phone
Was each book I was seeking
At a lower price 
And with free shipping

I clicked and I scrolled filling my cart
With Barnes and Nobel’s heavy on my heart
There is much to be said for a book held in hand
And my first choice is a bookstore to find what I can

But as money is the king of the land
I must cut costs wherever I can
Thanks Barnes and Noble’s, mortar and stone,
But I must go with the prices found on my phone

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

Jesus Must Roll His Eyes

Jesus must roll His eyes a million times a day
Watching and listening to the things we do and say.
We get angry over the little things we cannot control,
Yet we praise Him zealously when we get a free cinnamon roll.

God has a sense of humor,  just look at your goofy friends,
Taking pictures with their picture phones that no will (hopefully) see again.

We take delight in the strangest things,
like toddlers peeing on a tree,
Yet when it comes to death and dying; 
how somber we can be.

The very thing we should celebrate, a life with Him above,
We grieve and worry and fret about, forgetting about His love.

So let’s celebrate our gifts from God and 
His sense of humor too,
And join Jesus as He rolls His eyes 
at the things we say and do.

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

Golden Kelp

We start life well grounded
like all great kelp families
attached to shell or bedrock, growing,
reaching for sunlight above the sea

all summer season long
I am battered about
colliding, pushed to and fro
waves and tide shape my destiny

at my rock-bound toes
purple anemones freely munch
trying to break me free
I feel every twinge, every crunch

my golden leaves frail about
stirring the salty blue sea
garibaldi and sea bass eat freely 
my contributions go without heed

thrashing, crushing waves
swirling us all together
we cling to each other
our solidarity brings protection

then...one final nibble
a rough tumble to shore
beach sand smothers me
ending my life at sea.

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

In the Sea

If I’d been born a whale
No happier could I be
Swimming, splashing, spy hopping
Roaming the open sea

If I’d been born a lobster
No happier could I be
Crawling along the ocean floor
Living in the sea

If I’d been born a seahorse
No happier could I be
Swimming among the rocks and plants
At the bottom of the sea

But I was born a human and
No happier could I be
Because I can swim in the ocean
And see what’s in the sea

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

Vacation Dreams

A day away from the city
The noise of the streets
A day to relax with nature
In shorts and bare feet

A day along the ocean edge
Taking a nap in the sun
A day to enjoy myself
Alone, quiet and fun

A day in the fresh air
With sand beneath my feet
A day remembered and treasured
Soon to be repeated I think.

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

My Pencil

I sit here with chin in hand
My pencil poised on paper
My mind is buzzing

Words tumble and fall
In all areas of my brain
They fight for a place up front

A bouillabaisse of letters and words
Searching for significance
Demanding to convey a sentiment, a thought

With eyes closed
Ideas form more quickly 
My pencil is ready

My fingers grip tightly 
Eager to record each expression
One word, two, a phrase springs to life

Words flow as a poem begins
The page fills quickly
My pencil is content at last.

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

Maggie

A miniature Australian Shepherd
Is the best companion for me
As we sit together on the couch
Watching afternoon TV

She does not sit for long
This hyper ball of fur
When Mom walks in the door
She jumps all over her

The attack of the Aussie Shepherd
Is a daily event around here
Yapping, jumping and bouncing
She moves like a white tail deer

Her big brown eyes
And fluffy chocolate fur
Make me want to hug and kiss her
That is for sure!

Chewing on my textbooks
Chasing the family cat
What do you do
With a dog like that?

A drink and a treat
Will calm her down soon
We throw a biscuit in the kennel
Watching her star in her own cartoon

A blanket placed over the top
Will find its way in by morning
But we will have peace for now
As soon as she starts snoring

Good night my little friend
Sleep well and pleasant dreams
Tomorrow we will play again
When the sun through the window gleams

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

Age of 55

Coming of Age

Sitting on my front porch
Watching the world go by
I wonder what I’ve learned
At the age of 55?

What were the 60’s all about?
Did we need to yell and shout
As young men died and distant wars raged
Did we learn anything in the haze?

Coming of age in the 70’s
Not long after Vietnam
I learned from the media
Not speaking up, thing go wrong.

The 80’s gave us disco
And songs everyone knew
With aerobic dance in colorful leotards
And jogging in Nike shoes

But the shadow of war
In the 90’s loomed wide
As our smart bombs and rockets
Lit a distant desert sky

Retaliation came to our unwatched shore
As great towers fell, floor by floor
A new patriotism built from fear
Started the new millennium, goals unclear

Yet a decade goes by and
Bombs still fill the distant desert sky
Pat downs at our airports
Will not soon subside

Pulling troops out of one desert
To battle somewhere else
Does not bring peace to people who
Can’t accept the differences within their selves.

Desert Storm, Vietnam, Korea and WW2
When will we learn and surmise
This planet cannot, will not survive
If we continue to conquer and divide.

Sitting on the front porch
Watching the world go by
Have I learned anything
At the age of 55?

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

Ocean Walk - Part 1

Walking along the ocean shore
Kicking up the golden sand
I feel the warmth of the rising sun
On the back of my freckled hand  
 
The willet and the sandpiper
Dash into the approaching waves
As the sand crabs and quahogs 
Burrow down,  hidden away

Sea weed and sea grass 
Are washed into the beach
Holding scallops for the shore birds 
And for the sand fleas, a feast

Flying high above
A seagull takes a hungry look
A brown pelican suddenly dives past him
Knocking him for a loop

Young families on brightly colored blankets
Blow up beach balls and remove their shoes
Children jump over the white crested waves
While a surfer dives her way through

Sunscreen on tiny little bodies
Hats on round little heads
Sunburn is not an ocean treasure
When little ones go to bed

Plastic pails and shovels 
Are carried across the golden sand
Dreams of sandcastles and moats
Become shapes under little hands

The life guard stands in his tower
Binoculars in his hand
Watching surfers and swimmers,
And those safely on the land

He is able to see in the water
Things others do not know
Rip currents and rough waves
Keep him constantly on his toes

The pier is in a distance
Waves crashing underneath
Crusted with mollusks and barnacles
It is no place for bare feet

Along the pier overhead
Are fishing poles and chairs
Fishermen casting for dinner
While fishing stories they share

The afternoon sun rises higher
The wind dies down a bit
Surfers come into shore
Their bodies lean and fit

Off in the far horizon
A small sloop glides quickly by
The wind filling its red sails
Speed causing the bow to rise

A cabin cruiser motors past
Fifty feet long at least
A party on board and a dingy behind
The guests are in for a treat

Details | Kristie Raburn Poem

Boys To Men

Fire trucks and building blocks
Puppy poop and muddy shoes
These are the tools of boyhood
Gone too quickly to be of mind

Soon it’s cars and motorcycles
Football, rugby and hockey
Rough and tumble sports
Turn little boys into young men

Moms wonder where their angel went
And who is this man in their kitchen
Young maidens start a new chapter
It begins again with the next generation