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Best Poems From
ROBERT L. BIXLER III
(February 14,1985)
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5.
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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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6.
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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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7.
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Trials of Romanticism
In He walks, perfectly smart,
The one that every man should be.
One glance, He steals many a’ heart.
His finesse does every eye see.
Ear caressing words spoken
In palatable voice, an audible romance.
Hymns to heal the heartbroken;
Intonations to aide Love’s advance.
Upon sight and sound, her thoughts roam
As He is the one she would take home
For parental consent; Wedding bells chime in dance.
Though this future image is natural,
Of the romantic child’s truth,
Now, such actions deemed as in-actual
Since the young desire sweet-tooth
Candies that could decay thy very soul;
For the fresh hearted crave the entertaining one.
Wild antics, rash thoughts and a bad dole,
Know a boyfriend, single pun.
Troublesome and down-heartening they
May be, but they save the day
Because ups and downs, in love, make life joyous fun.
He is the ideal unite,
Steady in love, as steady in life.
Wiser heart, in a cold night,
Has settled down, tired of fun’s strife.
Infinite love given free-
From the one who has never changed his daily ways.
She learns, with new eyes, to see
He is the same as in the old days.
From a mere friend, nay the best,
He has been changed to her lovéd zest.
His heart patient and true, un-rushed embrace he lays.
Mirror'd dream of child, romantic dream,
Shall come true in given time;
If he holds true to the ideal's seam.
With age she shall learn to rhyme
Her truest desire of love with his type.
From transient fun to searching the infinite
She shall learn to disregard all hype.
Avoid loving the lack wit,
Marry the friend she could never date,
And leave wild, transient fun for late;
For this romantic child is the best love could knit.
Robert L. Bixler III
Read more: romantic poems, fun poems, wedding poems, child poems, smart poems, romance poems, mirror poems, friend poems, dream poems, future poems, dance poems, truth poems, home poems, heart poems, love poems, life poems, night poems, change poems, children poems
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8.
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Childhood Lore
When the darkness reigns cold,
And one’s sensations give to none,
It is the warmth of love’s hold
That pervades when the heart is done.
When the child’s breathe first comes,
It is filled with maternal fragrance.
Bundled in warming touch that numbs
Of future struggles in hap dance.
In youthful eyes, golden rise of sun
Empowers the child with strong heart;
As he believes that love has won
Before reality’s sting can start.
It is at first flight from the nest
That the yearling learns the truth:
Love’s grasp does not come arrest.
One must zealously fight, hand and tooth.
Still encompassing emotion
Seems afar at life’s summit.
When one’s every notion
Falls in universal plummet.
Solitary trek on soft beach,
As the sun sets beyond the shore,
Reminds of exhausted reach
Of agéd arms for childhood lore.
As the bright light fades from day,
The stars speak of stellar reason.
The waning breath is left to say
The truth learned in life’s lesson.
When the darkness reigns cold,
And one’s sensations give to none,
It is the warmth of love’s hold
That pervades when the heart is done.
Robert L. Bixler III
Read more: beach poems, childhood poems, truth poems, child poems, future poems, dance poems, sun poems, heart poems, light poems, love poems, life poems, children poems, believe poems, rose poems, star poems
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