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Best Poems From
ROBERT L. BIXLER III
(February 14,1985)
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65.
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Social Circle
In plain gaze, sight to see,
The social circle has been drawn.
Aperture, where everyone wants to be,
Is the place for a simple pawn.
Every degree of personality
Can be rationed from this pi.
From pure zero to degree of ninety,
Alphas to epsilons, here they lie.
This circle made perfect recipe
For variety in the intellectual lawn,
Yet neo-liberalism alters, measuredly,
All to an equal until individuality is gone.
From pupil to straight laced, linear intensity
Allows for only seeing with one eye.
Only one idea, amongst all, has propensity:
Bottled fed from birth till, one day, all die.
To achieve perfectly peaceful unison,
Do all have to sacrifice true comparison?
Robert L. Bixler III
Read more: birth poems
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66.
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Solus
Inanimate stare upon light’s fading touch,
Has replaced ignorance with heavy wisdom.
The cold, harsh emptiness in which I clutch
Is but an outer representation of inner schism.
This hollowed body is lacking under the skin
Where warmth and tender emotion should flow.
Instead, there is agéd dust, and stuffy aired sin,
Which has become the essence, such reality did sow.
As night’s only wanderer fails to accompany me,
So does the warmth of false promises of overlooking sun.
As the fallen one did, I too begin to empty
All life’s wasteful essence for the long, tiresome run
That starts from weakened heart that does yearn,
Traveling long barren fields, where in solus one will burn,
Exiting pain numbing raptures -death desire earn-
And is drunken by scorched mouth, cycle full turn.
Sleep’s restful eye watches over me
As her sister takes my empty pain,
And returns with a sweet recipe
That taste of death’s bitter sugarcane.
As the night fades to cold dark blue
My dreams and aspirations match her hue.
Robert L. Bixler III
Read more: sister poems, pain poems, death poems, sleep poems, dark poems, night poems, sun poems, light poems, heart poems, travel poems, dream poems, running poems
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67.
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Sorrowful Cries
Clouds of cold, dark depressant
Roll over my loathsome state.
Life has become boring suppressant
To this romantic’s lost love relate.
Agéd air dust, in my lungs, consume
Encompassing sweet aroma
Of passion’s addicting perfume
As this Don Juan lies in coma.
Warm, fast flowing red liquid
Turns frigid blue, sluggish slop
As salty tear drizzle invokes mud;
Dried, hardened crust, from toe to top.
Compassionate, loving heart
Fades to solid, stone elect
As companionships depart
And stone, statue body erect.
Mother Willow solemnly weeps
As sapling statue slowly crumples.
Father time unknowingly sleeps
As rusted heart statue fumbles.
Decayed and falling apart,
This romantic's remains rise;
From ill-beaten ash heart
To ride wind’s sorrowful cries.
Robert L. Bixler III
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68.
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Stary-Eyed Lover (Work in progress)
(I don't feel like this one is complete.... I have just run out of inspiration to continue the metaphor.... maybe time will bring me back to it.)
Across soft, white sand solitary footsteps track
To the single beauty of tonight’s late hour.
As the waves swell, crash and recede back,
Her mind wonders while gazing on the shower.
Emotions, infidelity and apathy shred and devour
The beauty that she holds, even while crying
So loudly on this beach so desolate, empty, accepting.
Overhead a thousand meteors streak to the horizon
Blazing endless trails of fire across the dark, cold sky.
Burning with a consuming passion, they quickly wizen
Yet live fully in those few seconds of romantic vie.
Having loved completely, the meteors flame out and die.
The last lights of their heavenly, terse affair
Illuminates the universal truth in a symbolic dare.
Soft, smooth legs, slightly tanned, lay crossed
As her feet burry deep into the sand for any connection.
Her beautiful body lies weakened by the exhaust
That comes from an unrequited lover’s friction.
Torn by the ever changing, unpredictable motion
Of an apathetic, bridled love which she cannot escape,
Her alluring eyes seep the tears that his cannot shape.
As the meteors youthful rapture fades, one solitary star
Remains shining in the late night sky so dark, cold, encompassing.
The flickering hope from a galaxy adrift, another universe afar,
Lightens the dark night sky and probes for understanding.
Close enough for sight, almost touch, when gazing
But farther out then even digital signals can expediently reach;
Yet on this equilibrant planet, an infinite love waits to beseech.
Her hair blows softly in the salty ocean breeze
In a playful game of tag, gracing her pink lips
And how it reminds her of early love’s ease…
When he still faithfully, willingly enacted courtships;
When his hand glided along her silken skin then tarries;
And when his eyes seemed eternally lost in her deep blues.
Now only loss, disconnect, contempt show in his glancing rues.
Icy blue eyes stair heavenward, on this sister planet’s night,
As he, the celestial unknown, dreams of romantic connection.
As if teased by fate, their shared skies reflect love’s cruel insight:
No soul, no matter how strong, can overcome heartfelt attraction,
Let alone prevent the internal fires of romantic chemistry’s seduction.
Though seemingly a galaxy, a universe, a reality apart;
The universe’s truest secret bridged the gap to an armrest start.
In the cold caress of the night’s sea breeze, she shudders.
Where his love should console, she is left barren and empty.
Inconsistent and hollowed, are the words he slowly utters
As he uses his indignant love and lustful touch as bounty
Paid to her fragile, wanting heart from a callous budder’s.
Slow to feel the sting of indecent lay, her heart decays
With each empty, carnal ploy he enacts; her soul piques.
Even across the universe, the Star Unknown, bleeds for her,
His love, warmth, companionship transcends space and time
To fall upon her darkened night and flicker complete surrender.
Stary-eyed Lover holds the heart, soul, passion to sublime
All her dreams, passions, wishes into sweetened heavenly capture;
If only she were to awaken from poisoned seduction’s very rasp
And turn to the Loving Star whose hand, heart, soul stand ready to grasp.
In reaching the coldest act in the night’s long, lonesome play
She grasps for the lackluster love’s shallow warmth, despite the apathetic
And selfish intentions of his carnal, lusting egotism, her heart he will betray.
Though she knows the truth, her heart refuses to break poisoned love tragic
As it returns to his grasp still feeling the falsity in his capricious foray.
Turning her eyes from night sky, and the true star, she hides in familiarity,
While the universe slowly turns, removing her truest romance, star light’s singularity.
Robert L. Bixler III
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