Terminology of Love - Bob Atkinson

Terminology of Love

(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

terms of love evolve in time

from where we stand right now

language, such a fluid river

expands, contracts, evolves

in marriage such controversy

on what to call these unions

confounds and confuses me

contributes to my disillusion

in time participants are destined

to drift apart in their hearts

requiring outside stimulus

association with other tarts

this doesn't mean you love less

that partner you have taken

just means you need strange nuhky

to broaden out your station

let's call this deed "constructive loving"

or "love-two" if you will

or, "yes I would, if I could"

or

"love you deeply for a bill"

so you see there lies in wait

terminology we might use

if we need to explain

ourselves, our wiggly moves

love for humankind

doesn't stop when we leave home

just takes on somewhat different

values, actions and forms

The Critic - Art & Poetry - by Bob Atkinson

The Critic - Art and Poetry

(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

The Critic

'tis always easier to criticize

than is to do it yourself
although in truth the latter
contains far more fun and mirth


my point lies somewhere in between

good and bad of poetry
adjustment for the mainstream
how we absorb ideas

to see this in a different light

with crystal covers on the lens

we can, with open eyes

love writers with sharp pens

those who look beyond the fluff

and understand good meaning

divest themselves of constraints

and pursue a different dreaming

they see a world with tearfulness

not holding on to chains

which produce establishments

that grate and agitate

my desire in this arena

carries to all a simple message

don't let the future be determined

by past usage and direction

what you see is fabricated

a reality far from real

poo pooing things that matter

holds their only zeal

me, I've grown accustomed

to my meaning zipping by

heads of those who look

only at the surface side

doesn't mean I'm disheartened

to try is not hard at all

when you feel compunction

to rearrange it all

Beaux Arts - by Bob Atkinson

Beaux Arts

(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

Fine Art

fine art permeates our lives

what we see's therein derived

some good, some bad, some forced

some sickly made in due course

definitions retrograde

or definitions purpose made

to put forward broad extremes

of subtle formations gleaned

culled from inadequate stock

of pompous airs trending upon

an overview of situations

brought on by purchase of station

for us to present a finite goal

in determination, what's overloaded

bombastic open ended remarks by some

who view the process, not what's loved

works this way in all we do

arts, science, construction, food

experts pontificate, nothing else to do

skills so meager in producing good

The Tempest of Poetry - by Bob Atkinson

The Tempest of Poetry

(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

Poetry

there blows in stiff wind

created by the word

an everlasting frozen

collection of nouns and verbs

like a whirlwind of change

these letters spell the thoughts

of minds evolved to think

and report facts back to boss

here, in an open world

where flies the dust of change

we find restitution

in words thus re-arranged

cannot give to the giver

much more than we have done

for in an underlying thought

he knows what we have spun

stories of our past

tales of our future deeds

garnishment of life

on all we can agree

freeze emotions for all time

let thoughts be translated then

into a world evolved from us

as simple mortal men

let them know all we were

let them like us some

let them know we tried our best

as we from danger run

let them see what we were

back when we were young

and how we gathered wisdom

when older we'd become

trade our sincerity

for that truth of which we knew

let them see our tears of pain

when success we couldn't view

hopefully they will exist

if we don't destroy their seed

for if we continue on this path

we'll be devolved by greed

Statesmanship - by Bob Atkinson

Statesmanship

(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

Dwight D. Eisenhower

"... we hold it to be the first task of statesmanship to develop the stength that will deter the forces of aggression and promote the conditions of peace ..."

Dwight D. Eisenhower

here in that time of crisis

those wayward days of mud

when those who would be powerful

gain fashion with use of gun

not seeds of perfect charity

no love do they possess

just overriding purpose

by thumping of their chests

here in our development

nature has our crossroads made

do we digress to the point

where progress reverses trend

back to a time when people lived

a life so badly blessed

with slavery, toil and pestilence

given to their masters' whims

or do we define the nature

of progress to be made

a simple organizing statement

which carries to the grave

all we seek of accomplishment

all love grown for our friends

no enemies designated

we're all just mortal men

so first we can define

the void of useful souls

that underlying demon

we can't allow to grow

when some seek to gain power

by force or use of gun

intimidation, recklessness

they need to understand

society cannot fathom

such willful negligence

needs of the many for peace

herein takes precedence

Love Is Lost by Bob Atkinson

"Love Is Lost"

(c) 2009 Bob Atkinson

it doesn't matter

how long I must wait

how many tears my eyes see

before my day breaks

love is lost

but not the pain

it doesn't matter

I'll wait for you

to come and caress me

and say you love me too

love is lost

but not the pain

give me that smile

bring me some red wine

sitting there at my feet

when I'm tired and beat

love is lost

in my heart's domain

love is lost

but not the pain

Sound Turned to Silence - by Bob Atkinson

Sound Turned to Silence

(c)2014 Bob Atkinson

Oceans

we all, in our own way

struggle through pursuit deranged

broadcasting our thought processes

in that in life of little gain

how much snaps your memory

to where you hear my tune

and sift your own experience

to drive home my good moods

how much of who I am

rubs right off on you

am I just noise in your cabin

as you ignore my attitude

silence knifes the book pages

as if cutting sentences in half

spewing waste out through a gate

and pulling shards of glass

silence feeds the open echoes

trundles through my past

and forms that open crust

of my ocean as I laugh

silence fills my need for clarity

non-ambiguous in its tone

the world defined by nature

or total lack thereof