I AM THE ART OF FREEVERSE.

Journal Extract : Father Vs Dad (Through the Eyes of a Lone Soldier)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 13:05:00 +0000

The words ‘dad’ and ‘father’ are very similar on the surface and yet, I think to many people they hold very different meanings;Growing up I had a father,a father who made sure and went out of his way to make sure that i was provided for.He woke up every day to go work and make sure there was food on the table and returned every evening to read the paper, take a bath and sleep.Once in a while,he took time to talk to me about grades,degrees and how he hoped i aimed for a PHD.As much as that was important i wanted him , not to just talk to me but also take time to Chat with me,know me and befriend me.I wanted him to take me to football matches,and tell me the different stages of pre-manhood and Manhood like how to shave,love and wear a Suit.I wanted him to tell me about the thin line that lies between love and pain and how a man should walk and talk,i needed a comrade-to hold my back in war,talk to me about my first time,my first girl and what to do when she broke my heart;Instead i grew up a Lone soldier with a father and had to walk my self through the tests and Challenges of being male.Not having a bigger brother, i needed a role model- someone i could look up to and say to my self "I WANT TO BE JUST LIKE YOU WHEN I GROW UP".Honestly i grew up with a father but i needed my dad more.I hope for my little girl and little man i get to be more than father. I love my Father but i greatly miss my Dad.

Untitled (For Di)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 08:30:00 +0000

I wish I knew what it is exactly
that makes me both excited and
frightened of you.
I want to hold your hand
and say things that matter-
But suddenly the
words remain entangled
somewhere deep
in my chest.
There is something about you-
i just don’t Know what.
I try to write about
you in my journal,
Something at least,
that would help me explain
you to myself but
nothing except your name
exists, could there be a better poem.
am excited and yet I still
don’t know why
Suddenly nothing matters.
I wish i knew what it is exactly
that makes me both frightened and
excited about you.

An extract from my Journal

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 29 Mar 2011 10:28:00 +0000

I don't like the way i act toward Peaches.I constantly experience her as a very attractive woman,and yet the whole time i act like a polite eunuch.When i feel my maleness sexually,i want to consciously decide whether to act it out.When being an asexual nice-guy is a pretense,it is also self-betrayal.A decision can come from strength or self doubt.I see now that i want every act to be a self-affirming choice.

My feelings may demand action but they do not require it,I am free to choose what my body represents.To act out does not "get it out".In fact,acting it out often re-enforces the emotion and imprints it more deeply on my mind.One thing only is predictable about emotions:They will change.I don't have to "Honor" every passing feeling as if an opportunity for self-fulfillment were actually slipping from my grasp.

A Note to My Self

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 06:30:00 +0000

Anxiety,fear,panic is running away mentally,not physically.There is something over there in the corner of my mind,some thought,some image,that i don't want to look at.Fear is based on the belief that i am safer not seeing,like a child closing its eyes as the ball comes towards it.Awareness is the 1st step to freeing the mind.I must not only hear the fear out but question it closely as to the answer it is suggesting.Just as with Nightmare,most fears will fall by the weight of their own nonsense-Once they are bluntly seen

Now,Being my self includes taking risks with myself,putting a side fear,taking risks on new behavior,trying new ways of thinking and being,so i can come to know how it feels to walk hand in hand with my self.

#Notes to Myself

Lately I've been struggling,Spiritually and emotionally.I have been thinking of my self and what path i should take or what path i am currently on.A struggle between Poetry and photography ,Between God and Me,But mostly between taking a leap of faith and Fear.

Lonelines Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Sun, 31 Oct 2010 12:31:00 +0000

Call me a liar

Say it to my face

let it sink in

let it marinate in

my rage,let it drown

in my loneliness.

What a fool i was-

For believing there

was someone here;

I need to feel it,

all the way in,stab me with

those words,like a dagger,

turn it,get some flesh

let my tears flow

let me shout out all the pain

till there is no more sound in me,

till there are no more tears in me.

Look at me,as i lie there,mute

In my tears.Bend down

towards me look into my eyes and slowly

whisper these words to me

"You are Lonely,you are alone

in this small world of yours"

...to be continued

Behind closed doors

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 05:06:00 +0000

Sound is burried
here,silence is
embraced.
its just me-
nothing more
and nothing less.

Thoughts of
broken promises,
memories of
a love forgotten,
tears of
a heart broken.
But still-
a scent of you,
fond memories
of you.

For years i have
prayed here
for years i have
mourned here,
only to the audience
of these four walls
and the mockery
of loneliness.

Behind these
walls i birth myself
for tomorrow.
Behind these four
walls a MAN is made:

I Miss you

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 19:44:00 +0000

Its been 326 days
18 hours and 22
minutes .

i miss you
i want you-
to touch you
and kiss your full lips
i want to burrow
in your arms
get lost within
your breasts
i want to hide
from you and
let you to look
for me
i want to sink
in you,move my
hand to stroke
your flames-
not tomorrow
but tonyte
this nyte

its been 326
days,19hours
and 45 minutes
and i still miss you

Silence

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 16:17:00 +0000

Sometimes silence is the loudest noise:-Ive missed you guys a lot,my life went on a journey,a journey ill document for you in Poetry.
Love you all.R

PS:Ill update on Monday thank you.I love you.May the Pen stay strong

Purpose

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 13:35:00 +0000

Forget about love

forget hate

forget hurt

forget her.

Forget about rejection

forget heartbreak

forget loneliness

forget betrayal.

Forget about mistakes

forget tears

forget pity

forget sorrow.

Forget about faces

forget fears-

above all,forget death

but please-please ,

do not forget

to LIVE:

Pain (Part II)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 19:59:00 +0000

This poem is not about love-

or writing my verses

all over you.

This poem is about you-

about that voice in you

that is always silenced.

This is about the tears

you cry behind the

bathroom door.

This is about you

strangely

staring at yourself

in the mirror.

This is about that child

in you that is oppressed

and rejected.

This is about questions-

unanswered questions.

This is about forgiveness

and reasons why you wont

let go.

This poem is not about Love-

No- this is about YOU-

This is about PAIN:

Untitled (for the poet in me)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 18:55:00 +0000

I need you Poetry

I need you Poetry.

I forgot-yes i did,

Left you with teary eyes

and a brocken heart-

I never bothered to take

one last glimpse at you.

I forgot the similes

and metaphors

that walked me through valleys.

i forgot you-yes i did-

thought-i dint want you

anymore-

put my pen down

and threw away the paper-

i thought i knew what i wanted

that i forgot to see

what exactly i needed.

I need you poetry, yes I do.

I need you to keep me in your

Verses-I need you to hide

me in your ink.

I need you poetry -like

the breath that runs through me

I NEED YOU POETRY.

Ps:I wanted to call it quits and let go of you guys-i thought my issues were bigger than poetry,but i was wrong.i need you guys cos you have helped me write better.For Lulu,the walking man,angel shishi,funms,kookie jar and all the rest -Thank you all.

Untitled

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 16:08:00 +0000

Come,come,come;

come to me

My poet-my lover;

when it hurts,

go ahead

and tell me,

when this world

takes you by the

throat-

run to me

and ill be there

always.

Who understands

you better ?

I am a gift to you-

i am your comfort

in distress,

So bring it all to me

My lover-My poet.

Ps: am thru with Exams thank you all for the support and patience-Bloggers rock!! lets take this world with the pen.Love you all Robyn

For You

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 04:39:00 +0000

Am only Gone till october 9th due to University

Exams.I miss you all and have alot to write you.

Robyn

Untitled

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 06:55:00 +0000

She covers her eyes-shyly,

and begins to sing;

words one by one

open up-as a petal

from a flower-

that is blind to its own

beauty.

And i

in a moment of

self conviction

sit still and listen;

through an embarassed

gesture

comes a senile love song-

a favorite of mine

words made up-

words

perfectly put together-

a song from closed eyes.

Silence (Revised Edition)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 19:06:00 +0000

My Silence,

haunted me-

My silence,

had Noises-

so i gave it a mouth-

i gave it a voice.

Now,

Silence has a life;

Now silence

haunts me no more.

The Little boy (Revised)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 17:13:00 +0000

I once knew this little boy

he used to be happy

he prayed everyday

and had no problems.

This little boy loved himself

and was loved

he believed in himself

and loved to write.

I once knew this little boy

that i dont know anymore

He was stolen by desires

clothed in pain,

drowned in tears

and heartbreaks

and filled with self pity.

I once knew this little boy

that got lost in me.

Quest

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 09:54:00 +0000

Take me

to a place so far

away.

Take me

to a place

where i am greeted

by the scent of

morning dew.

where-

like i boy

i can dance to

the rhythm of the rain

and

listen to the whispers

of the wind.

Take me

to this place;

a place

ive only dreamt of

and written about

in poems.

Take me to this place

and leave me there

to rest.

Take me-

to place so far from here.

Ps:Dedicated to the walking man(i hope you love it).Thank you for your criticism-it has helped me write better.Am still workin on my punctuation.

For Antwonne (UN EDITED VERSION)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 19 May 2009 21:59:00 +0000

This night I lie here by your mother
watching her sleep-am
Prisoned by your thoughts
So I pray, and paint your
face on my heart-
Waiting for the day you
will tiptoe from my dreams
into this world.

What greater gift is there?
What better prayer can I make?
I promise-I’ll be here with you
When your breeze grows stronger.
I will stand by you- wrap my arms
around you and lull you to slumber.
Through my eyes will you see this
World-a cold world.
I will depend on God
for your sake;I will lean on
the faith that he will watch over you
where my eyes see not;I will rejoice
at the thought of you-Because I know that
like your father,you will fight-the good fight.
with your Verses I know that
you -my child will embrace the truth;
you will take this world by the throat.

so what can I say ?what can I skip?
Antwonne-my unborn

i will
pray and wait on you.

This poem is unedited but I thought I could share it in its raw form without editing it or any emotion.
Dedicated to Eizzy (you are a poet my dear and thanks for the sketch, it fits just right.)

Untitled

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 12 May 2009 14:14:00 +0000

Africa-

Write your name only

This is your moment

Your time under the sun.

Africa-

Don't write the name of any god

Don't write the name of any soul

Don't write the name of any man.

What have they done?

Africa-

Look at them with their void stares

These are the same faces that

abandoned and

fled from you.

These are the same faces that

raped and

molested your children.

Africa-

this is your moment

write your name only.

A letter to God

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 05 May 2009 08:54:00 +0000

Dear lord
What will a prayer
From a little man like me do?

Will it
Stop my brothers
From killing each other in endless,
Senseless wars.
Will it
stop,help that little girl
That cries at the empty
breast of its dead mother
I need to know Lord
I really need to know.

Will it
Provide solace to that
Mother that lived to
bury her child
will it
Voice the pain of my
Sisters-

that are

tortured, raped
And some burnt

alive in
The midst of what

we call civilization

Dear lord
What will a prayer
From a little man like me do?

Journey

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 14:42:00 +0000

The curtain drops
your show is over
your last poetry recital-
beautiful faces
all disappear
You pack all your
moments
in the bottom
of your suitcase
cover them with
your memories
a huge
"we will miss you card"
with the signatures
of all your
fellow poets.
you pack all of
them
cover them with
your memories-
piles,piles and
piles of them.
you close the lid
tightly
(you have everything
from a stay abroad)
you head back home.

Back home
you unpack.
everything lies in
disarray
exposed,vulnerable,
silent.
But-

as you rearrange
the new shelves
you have created,
suddenly you notice-
how everything looks
different,
you notice how everyone
has changed-
Even the face in the mirror.

Untitled (to the African Child that is never heard)

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 14:23:00 +0000

In the vast
of her
emptiness
she sits
with
welly eyes
on
a cold hard
pavement.

Silently-
uncontrollably
she weeps-
involuntary
tears.

On her skin
are stripes
of moments
in her life-
raw moments
overshadowing
the ripe moments-
leaving behind
a path of pain
well marked
upon her face.
no one cares
to even stop,
look
and notice her.
no one
cares to lend
an ear-so
she just
weeps
and weeps
and weeps.

(Dedicated to little Roselyn-i noticed)

The Actor

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 15:18:00 +0000

Noises
people-with
empty stares
confused adoration
stifling screams
they applaud-
i take a bow
the show is over
curtains drop
today's tale has ended.

Beyond the curtains
i hear fading screams-
i place my hands tightly
against my ears-
drag my body on my elbows
and cry out
"Lord let them go away please".

Time collects in one place
my soul stifles a scream
all this pain,
all these broken moments
become a reality,
am betrayed by my own silence.

And now
With my teeth,i
pick up pieces of me-
piece by piece
part by part.
So
Tomorrow
a new day will unfold,
Tomorrow-
I will play a new role.

To the activist,Lulu ,angel, Emi ,shishi n K

Untitled ( For Claire ) Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 16:00:00 +0000

Love
breathes
down my spine
onto my heart
into my soul.
I lie-
wordless
thoughtless
and watch
in disbelief .
Tonyte,this nyte-
Claire-my first
object of infatuation
rests
peacefully
jet-lagged,
in my arms.

The Last Poets

noreply@blogger.com (Robyn) — Sun, 25 Jan 2009 14:10:00 +0000

When you go home
tell them for us-that,
today,
we write our best.

we write for love
write,
in the name of
Freedom.
Tell them-please
that,
we write for
peace,
justice
we write for them.

Tell them
that-
for their tomorrow
we write our souls out
Today.

For poeticallytinted,lulu,princess,the activist,poetry in a global box ,shishi, n angel