Category: Poetry

Broken Dreams Self-absorption I’ve seen your claims that you desire a better world Why is changing your behavior not a footstep along that path? –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 9, 2008

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Spectacle Speculation One day maybe the world will be as I envision it But that will be in some far distant day to come and this is now It is improbable that I will see and experience my vision Change occurs too slowly or perhaps aging occurs too fast –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 9, 2008

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Pathway Life Stories What would you tell the protagonist of your story to do if you could? Why aren’t you living your life so that those events could happen? The deeper question: Am I? –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 7, 2008

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Imagining the Pain Away Floating beneath a sea of pain Focusing on the point where the pain seemed to reside I aimed my thoughts to move that point through my body to a locus an inch or two off the tip of my nose where it would hurt no longer Wouldn’t it be grand if our collective consciousness could cause a similar effect on the blights humans have inflicted on this planet? –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 5, 2008

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Pains The Damage Done Aches and pains of muscles and bones of nerves and organs are bearable when old injuries to the psyche have been soothed when the twinges of a fragile confidence the throbbing of squandered initiative and the millions of stings that punctured a too slim veneer of self-esteem have been given tender care –Robyn Elaine Serven –March 4, 2008

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Cyanide On Being Lazy The bad part about laziness is the guilt that insists I accomplish things in order to hide that facet The paradox is that if I became free to be lazy I suspect I would get much more accomplished –Robyn Elaine Serven –February 5, 2008

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Seeds What if? What if rainbows came in textures and kaleidoscopes played with sound What if feelings were for wearing and thoughts weighed each a pound Would hope appear upward and love feel cerise? What would be the taste of freedom? What would be the scent of peace? Could I pay my rent in moonbeams when the future becomes our toy? When hate and greed are left behind could I measure wealth in joy? –Robyn Elaine Serven –February 26, 2008

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Distortion on a Gray Day Memories With any luck the ragged people discover how to sing on the countless gray days which occupy time between those occasional days of sunshine In a better world one not consisting of lies and jest going away is not necessary or required or even desired –Robyn Elaine Serven –February 22. 2008

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“I am not young enough to know everything.”

~Oscar Wilde

Born:  October 16, 1854 in Dublin, Ireland

Died: November 30, 1900 (aged 46) in Paris, France

Occupation:  Playwright, novelist, poet

Nationality:  Irish

My impression of this quote is that only young children know everything. When they get older and slower in the mind, they are less likely to believe and therefore to less likely to know the most about unusual but interesting things.

Children believe in fairy tales or some forms of magical happenings, and they also believe in scientifically-incorrect theories such as aliens and Area 54. They believe in certain legends, myths, and fables, and all kinds of other stories.

Oscar Wilde was sometimes called the Man of Barbed Wit, because he could think of many insults to spout at one time that made many people laugh, and many people scowl. He was extremely smart until the day he died; never letting anyone place him as the butt of a joke.

He is saying in this quote that you only believe all those amazing things once, when you are a child. After you age, you begin to think of all those amazing things as foolishness, infantine. This is why it is good to enjoy being young while you are.

Tears Toxic Raindrops Spitter, spatter – dribble, drip eroding the soul The sizzle of acidic water dissolving resolution Hard hail pellets hammering the identity Cold shards of sleet penetrating the heart Invisible tears damaging the interior where the scars are mostly not visible except in the resulting behavior which can be so terribly bizarre Confidence roughly scoured forcibly removed from internal corridors while outside there was a smile and a helping hand for those less fortunate –Robyn Elaine Serven –February 21, 2008

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I am back in Flemington NJ. I left home when I was 31 to come here and live with my boyfriend. I think they thought I would never leave. And I never really wanted to leave. They were right about that. I liked being a child. I liked that I could always got to my mom’s house when I was sick. Or that I could always knock on my dad’s door for pasta at midnight after a wild night out…

No. I wasn’t looking for a mate. I was happy with a boyfriend.

heatherwinds sift follicles pores

and places where memories would lie

if memory encompassed happiness

an extension of the mother

in Giger form

jettisoned repeatedly in oft ill waters

too shallow to break a fall

too acidic to nurture a result

the wait

broken glass, old doll parts, buried shoes, roof shingles, pool liner, woodchuck hole, coy dogs feeding, turkey vulture circling and more broken glass

4 hours of sleep in 48

body must not break

it’s all at stake

on summit lake

it’s all at stake today

coke bottles, knives, axes, saws, mud, flies, gasoline, diesel, 220, timbers, fuses, fire and molten dreambirds

4 hours of sleep in 48

mind must not break

it’s all at stake

on summit lake

it’s all at stake today

literal and gullible

the way I always was

slow on the uptake

narrow on the intake

rusty and need some work

penned in a rush

on radiator flush

buffed with sand and cloth

slow minds prefer slow pursuits

that’s where my baby might be

down by the river

an ole lover or three

i set her free

didn’t come back to me

didn’t even look to see

cuz I’m gullible

enough to believe

in parable and entropy

in song and singularity

in spirit sunlight and rarity

in you