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Best Poems From
ROBERT L. BIXLER III
(February 14,1985)
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37.
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One Hour
One hour rests in my mind and in my soul.
One hour of this night to express all I could.
One hour to fill the glass, with your name, full.
One hour with you and an eternity of pleasure in memory.
Here you have been strangled by parents, lovers and trampled by a physicality.
Your body may have been cleansed but your soul and mind remain soiled.
Muscles aching, soul crushed and mind over-loaded;
You sit and stare as I walk in.
One hour of soothing caress can ever be felt.
One hour of repenting and self-indulgence all justified.
One hour of positive, supportive quietness.
One hour of soul-comforting attention from me to you, so needed by both.
I walk in to check on you; work gives you an excuse.
Through your deceitful and emotionally overburdened eyes, can I see the truth.
With strong, steady hands, of mine, the work is finished momentarily.
Now begins the task at mind, and from heart to save you
to save me.
One hour of sympathetic company to remove apathy.
One hour of you, for you, to release all your grief and spell out your pain.
One hour in which everything goes right, nothing impure.
One hour in which simple, heartfelt actions taken by friends shall endure the tidal waves.
Hand soft, gentle and comforting, have transcended beyond
What my hard, torn and strong hands ever thought.
Circular motions, soothing words, and empathizing touch begin the healing.
Your problems are mine, mine yours; Two as one to solve these problems that complicate.
Everything simplified while we are united, but only a taste of what could be.
My kindness, your strength, my trust, your judgment,
My Heart, and your body come together in amazing unity.
After the hour, we will be on our own as only friends looking for more.
But, an ever-growing uncertainty of how, when and where to ask, resides in me.
One hour of escape from reality in this wake-time fantasy.
One hour giving you what I could for the rest of my life
if you deem worthy.
One hour in which our minds are on only each other, and caring only for the other.
One hour that shall live a lifetime in my memory.
Robert L. Bixler III
Read more: memory poems, work poems, trust poems, grief poems, strength poems, together poems, truth poems, pain poems, friend poems
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38.
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One Man of Gentry
Question of life and love divine
Are bitter-sweet questions of mine.
To need and desire intensely still,
Though separate divide prevents all ill,
As they burn me inside, from heart to skin.
Should I give all of myself for such a sin?
To take in the burden of lost chivalry
So that the world may have one man of gentry.
Robert L. Bixler III
Read more: lost poems, world poems, heart poems, life poems, love poems
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39.
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Passionate Flower
Flaming petal of lust,
Sweet smell of romance,
This passionate flower of trust
Radiates more with each glance.
The seed was in your eye.
Nurturing fed inferno,
Lively this flower blooms by
The strength your soul does show.
Blazoned in eternity,
This burn shall be
Forever a heartfelt part of me,
Sparked by the beauty I see.
Robert L. Bixler III
Read more: romance poems, flower poems, lust poems, trust poems, strength poems, beauty poems
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40.
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Playing with Fire
Be careful when you play with fire they say,
But if you never open yourself enough to burn;
Then you will never feel that encompassing day.
If you never get singed, you can never learn
How that perfect fire feels, the warmth that surrounds.
Building walls to surround and enclose only suffocates.
Digging deep fire pits only turns the ground uneven.
By attempting to avoid the burns completely, one abates
The realization, the perfect moment that could have been.
Without barriers and an open mind, the possibility abounds.
I spent a year digging the pit and laying the sand,
Building the enclosures for that perfect bonfire.
I found the sweetest hickory and maple logs on hand,
Lining them with vanilla and sage kindling, an air of desire.
All I lacked was that perfect reason to the let the fire resound.
After freezing in failed attempts and frigid nights alone,
I finally found that perfect reason to set the kindle a light.
Immediately the kindle sparked to life, the desire quickly a tone.
The chemistry between the cold air, desiring kindle and beautiful sight
Set the quickening, wild pace; the blazing fire completely unbound.
I stood a gasped as the flames encircled and consumed with passion.
I could feel the warmth to my core and the longing for connection.
Never for a second did my thoughts wander to the future, so ashen.
The fire simply singed me softly and warmed with loving affection
As immediately my walls were burnt, my heart thawed, my fire found.
After another amazing night, I ventured out into the world
Only to return to have found the fire overcome itself with passion.
I could still feel the last residual, addictive heat from all that unfurled.
I began to wonder if I could have sustained the fire, maybe on a ration.
But alas, I had done all to my best; I enjoyed it all this time around.
For the first time, I could gladly say it was completely worth the burn.
The chance to feel alive and to feel the fire blazing in me
Was the greatest gift that my fire, my friend, could ever return.
Though I would have kept the fire ablazed, a shared jubilee,
I shall enjoy the time, the passion, the flame with zealous renown.
Be careful when you play with fire, they say.
As the sand I had laid as barriers turned from cold, coarse
Resolve into radiant, fragile, beautiful glass heart stay,
I argue that one should play with fire without remorse.
Even in the ashes, after the worst burn, a single ember remains.
Robert L. Bixler III
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