Showing posts with label Worth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Worth. Show all posts

the apotheosized

Posted by Robert Anderson On Wednesday, November 16, 2011 0 comments

i drift
deeply into a dream
followed by shadows formed starkly
by the aftermath of my pain

and you are all i can envision,

as heavenly as you remain to me--
loved as the embryo of my forsaken life

fueling gusts of wind challenge me

as my strength begins depreciating my own
inner secret self
for all i am

save me -- oh, darling save me

from my soul

lest i die

a whisper to my soul

Posted by Robert Anderson On Friday, August 19, 2011 0 comments

beneath my veiled brown eyes i dreamed
a whisper to my soul
by my fair muse whose aura gleams
and lives to make me whole
she swore with her undying breath
as intimate as love
that here beyond my mortal death
my words will be thought of
then wrapped me warm in both her wings
while lulling me to tears
which gave me faith for everything
i've poured throughout the years
and oh, her heart, it pillowed me
until my essence slept
and soon i crumbled to debris
while beauty softly wept

a poet's muse

Posted by Robert Anderson On Thursday, April 28, 2011 0 comments


I write to the night that avails me
By my pen, so my muse does fate in my words
Depth, that derives from my essence
Haunting me deep as my restlessness stirs.

My World Without Poetry

Posted by Robert Anderson On Monday, May 18, 2009 0 comments

Now if this world would lack upon its face
 A single trace of beauty writ in verse
The same expressions that get me to chase
My own dreams when I feel I must converse
In silence through my mind's eye when it feels
That I have more to give than I can see
It would not be the same if as a seal
My heart was just too lost to pour out free
I doubt that I'd consider my worth when
The scene of everything would not inspire
My soul would be too empty to begin
That spark so it may build into a fire
I know that I would never be content
My days and nights would be my life's lament

Verse To Poetry

Posted by Robert Anderson On Thursday, April 23, 2009 0 comments


Photobucket
oh me, what brilliance you intend
to bestow of impressionable thought
by that sheer fire that stirs within the soul
with a passion from where your surge had sought

life alters in verse your highest wonder
between the lines of its philosophy
though indeed how you move your host to crown
an esteem so you may echo softly


while so genuine no word unravels
it conceives solitarily in birth
to what beauty does derive from your breath
dear poetry how you honor my worth

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