Donald was just beyond the breakers
when I saw him in trouble
struggling to stay above the water,
I was swimming to the rescue
when not a hundred feet
before I reached him, a huge grey fin
parted the water nearby,
before my very eyes he went under,
the sea turned red, a seal got tossed
up into the air by a great white
that swam away munching–
Donald came up gasping
“Help, help me!”, he cried, “Help!”
the real horror was, I had to think twice.
Garden by the Sea
If not for bouquets of summer glory gathered by gentle hands
What reason for gardens by the sea?
The muffled break of waves is not as loud
As the whiff and whirr
Black and yellow bumble bee busy in the bloom,
Each comes to gather gold–
Drawn by sunlight and color,
The ladies in hats and summer gowns, baskets on their arms
Stroll down from the house.
When they return,
Marigold scent in hair, dahlia pollen on hem and sleeve,
They will fill the house with rainbows of stock and zinnia.
Even as Neptune sleeps, the sea a great blanket over him
Deep monsters and storms quiet now,
Everything is Energy,
Ocean air blowing streams of light
Whirling through bush and tree, grasses pushing up
Butterflies afloat, the mind brimming, spilling over
Spilling its delight…
Light as a finch skipping on air
I have dreamed such days, lived too few, when death
Did not seem final, truth not so rare:
Hours pushing open leaves and petal on petal
Unfolding in fragrance….
flooded with light, holding form
For what we call a day, but is, one flower each calls their own.
If america were a man, let’s call him joe
a psychopathic killer
don’t you know
smilin’ in your face til you are gone
singin’ to your kids
“The beat goes on,
but not for you, no not for you”
Drums keep poundin’ rhythm
to the brain
the president has really gone insane,
la dee dah dee di, lah dee dah dee dah–
I’ll take care of everything
when you’re gone,
la dee dah dee dee, lah dee dah dee dah
Yeah, sing it with me now
while I push the knife in deep and long.
Chill: It’s just a poem.
Click Here: Killer Joe
That was my puff piece for April 11, Thor’s Day… 2019. If you don’t like it, eat me.
The sky the clouds trees
reflected in the veteran’s wall
make it seem invisible
as if we could walk though
to the other side—
Names written in air
ascending in light appear
to enter where they’re given
dreamless sleep or heaven,
who am I to say where names go
beyond the love we give them?
Some people thank the vet
for service to the nation,
I’m home alive, well as ever
suspicious of lay sympathy.
Those who trust tradition
do not know the pain of war
nor the honor of sedition.
Rayn Roberts 2019
A war of attrition continues with death
a spy walking behind
a sense it follows a breath after the next
a shadow stretching back
to birth a battle cry,
today we win the war we lose tomorrow.
One can for a pocket full of policies
lose entire families—
hell is the inability to love.
We inch to the edge endangered species
wanting more than we need
computers phones gold homes cars
more animal than beasts
the corporate czar global leaders
give a harvest of grief
the Killing Fields, Rwanda, Darfur
Bosnia, East Timor,
how many holocausts before they cease—
Hell is an absence of love
in people who bend to hate and greed.
Death is the maker of creeds and men
withering away in the end
when hymns of eternal rest and peace
pour out into the air
like smoke over Syria
heaven betrayed by hells we made on earth.
World Poetry Day was declared by UNESCO in 1999. Each year, UNESCO meets and focuses on some particular poet and his or her works. Often, the spotlight is cast on poetry written in a minority or even rare and endangered language. Poetry recitals and similar events may also be held in various countries in recognition of the day.
Schools may have special poetry writing sessions or even contests, poets may be invited to recite their works in local cafes, and exhibits may put famous or new, local written poetic creations on display.
While World Poetry Day is on 21 March, it used to be in October, and some countries still observe it then.
6 Poems by Rayn Roberts / The Seattle Star
The Seattle Star is a Neutron Bomb
“Look deeply at the big picture beyond revenge to compassion / We are broken or someday will be, but still beautiful, broken / Kintsugi, it all depends on we put the pieces back together.” ~ from “These boys, These Men” by Rayn Roberts