The Compulsion of Barbarity - by Bob Atkinson

The Compulsion

of Barbarity

(c)2015 Bob Atkinson

some see living in their dreams

a different world upon

which we rely

to carry ourselves toward dawn

some see peace and justice

as goals for which to rise

toward that institution

of derelict disguise

me, I find unusual

a soul who cannot see

simplicity of our germ of life

when we set it free

free to wander openly

beyond constraints of pride

free to send our children

toward the other side

free to search our feelings

for all who walk near us

and free to find sincerity

as a well defined plus

while jumping on those teachings

which never were that good

for faith in understanding

tells some what's absolute

absolutes have no place in life

leftovers from those times

when life carried less of value

than a pocket full of dimes

He Never Understood - by Bob Atkinson

He Never Understood

(c)2015 Bob Atkinson

he never understood this life

sometimes he would say

not any of its parts

whole dang thing displayed

never in his many years

could this or that be found

to eradicate his fears

of not finding hope profound

you'd think with advancement

he'd understand the rest

or at least diminish thoughts

put to a simple test

to find hope buried in a pile

of dust there on the stone

or under leaflets left on tables

or in his brother's home

no way in understanding that

which hid from his clear view

could this be the story he would seek

or could ignorance become his due

to tell the truth, it's not arranged

don't sit and wonder why

we all look for what's not there

as we eat our fruited pie

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

The Art of Poetry vs The Discipline of Poetry - by Bob Atkinson

The Art of Poetry

vs

The Discipline of Poetry

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

Encyclopedia

Fine Art has its alter ego

Art D'cor which also breaks

these two ideas into factions

one primitive, one more staid

Fine Art means something learned

art constructed from the past

having trained in master's techniques

meaning that will ever last

Art D'cor lies more transitory

fills merely a momentary need

more for pleasant decoration than

further advancement of the breed

in literature begins an era bold

of truly differentiated tastes

in a time of new beginnings

of newness that will rage

Poetry as an art leans

toward the wispy, mindless tripe

thoughts without complex emotions

guided by throttled emptiness

no purpose in its dreaming

no research done for its themes

no imparting information gathered

beyond simple illusion of mindless motif

Discipline of Poetry

on the other hand

takes our minds into a world

of culture broadly expanded

always purpose in those words

always thought deep in what seems

complex exploration of existence

researched flowing through watered streams

that tell us what we didn't know

what a writer knew not too

when he began his assemblage

of words that wanted to

expand our understanding

of this, that, or the other

setting us on a journey to

correctness, not toward blunder

he sets out to explore a point

be it theory or merely fact

and takes us on a journey meaty

never wanting to look back

he opens books of reference

gives those notes there for our usage

to let us quickly acclimate toward

understanding an idea's currency

here we've gotten something good

what pushes on our hearts

total construction of our world

observed at least until we're dust

"the Turn Around" by Bob Atkinson

"the Turn Around"

"the Turn Around"
(c)2010 Bob Atkinson

Wasn't an extra ordinary day

sky was blue

my heart was thin

couldn't laugh

but I could grin

wasn't aware of love

coming my way

wasn't looking for what I found

when the sweet lady came around

a perky lass 

with blue-green eyes

willing smile, no frowns

she carried with her

a serious air

of sweet confidence

although blond of hair

she carried also

the promise of

an ever ever 

lasting love

didn't have a clue

of the new direction

what was happening to me

didn't know at all

had found perfection

when the pretty lady

of Ohio state

looked for a photo

and passed my gate

if the future holds

half of what I have found

my head and heart will

be hers from now on

Cathy's Cold in Minnesota by Bob Atkinson

Cathy's Cold in Minnesota

(c)2006 Bob Atkinson

Cathy's cold in Minnesota

she left me for her kin

said that I did treat her bad

didn't know I did

cold in Minnesota

I'm lyin' in the sand

cold in Minnesota

and I'm doin' what I can

my friend came by to see me

and make me feel alright

didn't know that she would want to

warm me all the night

cold in Minnesota 

I'm lyin' in the sand

cold in Minnesota

and I'm doin' all I can

had lunch with April Jones

she looks right

her skin fits tight

like last month's centerfold

asked me to come by her place

about half past eight

said her husband's doing business

somewhere out of state

cold in Minnesota 

I'm lyin' in the sand

cold in Minnesota

and I'm doin' the best I can

Contact Bob Atkinson 

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

Contact Bob Atkinson

Play Me a Song of Nogales by Bob Atkinson

"PLAY ME A SONG OF

NOGALES"

(c) 2007 Bob Atkinson

ALONE.....CERVEZA GOING DOWN

CANTINA ..ON THE EDGE OF TOWN

NOT THINKING OF THE HEART

OR WONDERING OF TOMORROW

FREE OF FEAR AND SORROW

IN NOGALES

IN WALKS A SENIORITA

SHE GLIDES AND SWAYS

UP TO THE MARIACHI LEADER

WONDER WHAT SHE SAID

ASKED HIM LATER

AND HE TOLD ME,

I REMEMBER TO THIS DAY

“PLAY ME A SONG OF NOGALES

PLAY ME A SONG OF NOGALES

PLAY ME A SONG JOSE”

MAKE MY HEART BEGIN TO HEAL

MY LOVER HAS GONE TODAY

I’M ALONE IN THIS WORLD

MY EMOTIONS ARE ON DISPLAY

PLAY ME A SONG OF NOGALES

PLAY ME A SONG

TO HEAL ALL THE WRONGS

PLAY ME SOME MELODIES

TO SWAY AND DANCE ALONE

GIVE ME THE STRENGTH

TO FIND NEW ROMANCE

PLAY ME A SONG OF NOGALES

PLAY ME A SONG JOSE

PLAY ME A SONG OF THE HEART

GIVE MY SADNESS SUPPORT

HEALING HURT THAT HAS COME

TURN TEAR FILLED EYES TOWARD FUN

PLAY ME A SONG OF NOGALES

PLAY ME A SONG JOSE

Contact Bob Atkinson 

It's Only Me by Bob Atkinson

"It's Only Me"

(c)2008 Bob Atkinson

It's only me

the one who loves you

it's only me

the one who cares

it's only me

and my frustrations

it's only me

who gives a damn

you set your sights on

someone else

you feel I'm not 

the one for you

you leave me

when I need you

and don't see my tears

when I'm alone

only me who gives a damn

only me who loves to see you

when and where I can

it's only me who loves without return

only me who can't understand

why you leave me when you want to

why you go and leave me alone

you feel I'm not 

so right for you

you leave me for others who
don't need you the way I do
because........it's only me

it's only me

 ******

Bob Atkinson's Poetry Critic Site



Contact Bob Atkinson

"GOODBYE COWBOYS" by Bob Atkinson

"Goodbye Cowboys"

(c) 2008 Bob Atkinson

Goodbye Cowboys

goodbye Cowgirls

goodbye Bikers

goodbye Biker Girls

goodbye all you good time cowboys

who ain't gotta steer to brand

goodbye all you drunken ponies

who can't carry your man

goodbye to all you weak and weary

tall and short and sometimes teary

goodbye to all you fellow scoundrels

it's from you I get a laugh

goodbye to the men I hung with

drinking beer with vodka kicks

giving life to bravado stories

which may or may not stand

yes I do, and yes I don't

hear you say within the "quotes"

things you will and things you won't

it's you I try to comprehend

time is short my lady waits

it's domestic, not a date

will she "give" or will she "hate"

the alcohol on my breath

goodbye to all you weak and weary

tall and short and sometimes teary

goodbye to all you fellow scoundrels

it's you I understand

so it's to you I tip my hat

Bob Atkinson - Arizona Poet

http://arizona-poet.blogspot.com/ 

Planet Parasite by Bob Atkinson

Planet Parasite

(c)2010 Bob Atkinson

in all the world's configurations

things that seem to be notations

of status put upon our fate

help us view one's place

upon this small sphere

are we why? or are we

what is useful here?

one needs to step aside

and hear the calls of outbacks

places primitive and stark, or

ocean depths where sharks attack

are we ones that can succeed?

for which our world was made?

or, is our importance mind created?

soon to be obliterated

is the plan to test our smarts and guile?

like other living things somehow

or are we like those parasites?

who outlast the bodies

that give them light

no way for this mortal man

to answer if there's divine plan

but given facts of which I hold

the question seems, 

to me

something akin to gold

Stop the Metaphors by Bob Atkinson

"STOP THE METAPHORS"

(c)2010 Bob Atkinson

when I was young

before my prime

my grade school teacher

was Miss Similie

she told me to watch

for words contrary

“don't do to the metaphor

what forests do to canaries”

"don't breed them like rabbits

don't make them a habit

or think using them

makes your words grab it"

lately I saw a poet of awe

brag of his powers

to make his words tower

so I looked and I looked

but on metaphors he was hooked

giving his poems that awful look

of what I wrote when ten

igniting the temper 
of Miss Similie
and her learned friends

I'll Never See Your Love Again

"I'LL NEVER SEE YOUR LOVE AGAIN"

(c)2005 Bob Atkinson

In my life

I'll never see your love again

I watched you sweetly

turn away from me

your honesty in telling me

was quite a shock

love, I wonder if

I'll ever be as warm

as when I kissed you

and held you tightly

in my arms

in my life

I'll never be

your love again

I breathe deeply

but no more willingly

yes, I'll survive

but not see love

light my heart again

as I know you'll never

be loved as much

by him

tender moments

of looking in your eyes

told me of your passions

and desires

you were tired 
of living free
said you wanted
only me


now hurt
is the only thing I see
love you're gone
and my world 
closes down on me

in my life

I'll never see

your love again

bob_saltzer@yahoo.com