Home » Poems » Best » Ross Blair » Best Ross Blair Poems

Best Poems Written by Ross Blair

Below are the all-time best Ross Blair poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ross Blair Poem

The School Councilor

Enemies at the gate.
The wicked within.

Reekers dragging cold souls
To the requiem for a dream.

The free world
In bad company.

The risk.
The score.

Just a drug store cowboy 
Back to school.

Back to school.
Priceless. 

Off-Air.

Details | Ross Blair Poem

The Waiting Light

In tight lines,
All dressed down.
Ever her
And gently bound.

Through the rain,
To the mouth of the sun,
Caught in the moment,
You are still the one.

Stronger than we
When the essence breathes
Shipping your soul
To the beauty or beast.

Stranger than love
For love decides
One soft morning
On the other side.

Details | Ross Blair Poem

To Be King

I often feel the shadow of guilt.
It visits most when walking close.

My aura is my gauge.
Its custom flavors my mood.
My swimming, my drowning, my
Thrashing disbelief.

No hint of disfavor, no eye adrift.
Their obedience reflects the Acceptance of things unearned.

And she said, "It's good to be King."

Details | Ross Blair Poem

The Social Network

Go into the Badlands.

Get your private screening.
See how the universe works.

Have a double dose of psych.
Bath in its sea of love,
Smell the enemy within.
The dark tower. 
The soul surfer.

In your warrior's way,
Embrace the den of thieves.

You'll feel pretty.

Now, get out of my room
Big city greens.
Anywhere but here,
Repo man.

Details | Ross Blair Poem

When Crops Wither

In a field of dreams
You 
Are the deadliest catch

You
Are the lost village
A lethal woodstock 

Whisper secrets
And everything after 
Is born too loud.

No dash of love
For your modern family
Only forensic files
Floating in the shark tank.

Just another ride.

Details | Ross Blair Poem

Preparing For Winter

She had lived in the meadow
Where they came at night
Drawn by her scent
She to their bite.
Through the forest moon
To the meadow light.

I was never to stare passed
The eyes of her keeper
He who was worn and possessed
With desire
She who had longed to feed at his fire
In a room overlooking the barbed
Fence and clover fields beyond

As I left, her eyes smiled and said
"I have a stall, I'm brushed and fed"