PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You couldn’t care less,

I’ve never cared more.

I care about

the oranges that get picked over

at the supermarket.

I almost tell them

I am bruised like you.

I toss them into my cart

I will give them a home.

They will live better in my house than

the stale that has taken over my heart.

They will live better in my house than

the things I can’t wake up to anymore.

They will live better in my house than

the dust I keep wanting to shape into memories.

I need to fill this space with

new

so I don’t

keep looking back.

Someone passes and

they have your voice they have your touch they have your name they have your name

I take my oranges

leave the cart

leave my cares

walk home.

we are all just

a collection of the things we carry

I have a honey-gold rope that ties me to all the places I come to and can’t leave

I have a vanishing trunk full of smoke and shells

I have a sudden urge to kiss you

I have a broom closet trapped in my head

it is where you might find her sometimes

I have a voice that is sometimes the icicle & sometimes the melt

I have a heart still splintering

I have half a coin I have split and spent with you

I have too many heartbeats held in old fraying boxes

I have pockets filled with pieces of us

I have a sound that pounds through the walls like silence

I have the quietest storm of hell in my head

I have all your syllables-

I will mold them till they’re mine

if I come to you on a broken sled

do you think it’s worth it to take me in

if I come to you on broken fingers

will you still call me your greatest success

will you make room for all the things we carry

I'd know you if I saw you,

Although we've never met.

I see the ones between us,

With more to come, I'll bet!

Love is such a dismal dance

Without you in my arms.

I date the ones between us,

Whilst dreaming of your charms!

Each day I hope I'll find you,

But so far, not so good.

I meet the ones between us,

And not you, like I should!

I know that you are out there,

And closer every day.

Right now the ones between us

Are getting in the way!

I'd really love to meet you,

But when will that day be?

It seems the ones between us

Are hiding you from me!

True love is all I ask for;

To share my life with you.

Some day the ones between us

Will disappear from view!

Copyright © Robert Haigh 2020

Mountains and valleys 

Holding chill and sweat. 

Deserts and oases 

Lacking and flooding life. 

Nightmares and dreamscapes 

Of terror and wonder. 

Up then down

And up again. 

Pillaged and 

Plundering yet. 

Exalted 

And salty still. 

Ups and downs,

Backs and forths,

Joys and pains,

Peaks and troughs. 

Frequencies 

And wavelengths 

Not only of 

Life and death, 

But of here 

And after,

Before here,

And hereafter.

Sines of life. 

The girl on the corner is flashing her legs.

The drunk at the station is down to the dregs.

I try not to answer each question that begs,

And I long for a train back to you.

The platform is crowded, with nowhere to sit.

It's dingy and draughty, and quite badly lit.

But I'll bide my time here and put up with it,

As I wait for a train back to you.

My nights have been empty without you to hold.

I've felt lost and lonely, if truth must be told;

And these city streets are not paved with gold,

So I'm taking a train back to you.

The man in the mirror is no friend of mine;

He's balding and puffy, and talks out of line.

He followed me here with a bottle of wine,

And we're boarding a train back to you!

Copyright © Robert Haigh 2019

Millstones and mishaps all mess with my mind.

I have no idea of what I may find

Tomorrow, next week, or even next year;

Yet freedom is one thing that I hold dear.

Anchors and anvils are weighing me down;

They're keeping me here, in this one-horse town!

The call of the wild now cries out in vain;

I fear I may never leave here again!

Hitches and hurdles are lurking close by,

But that does not mean that I should not try

To loosen my shackles and lighten my load.

I dream of adventure, down a new road.

"Hope springs eternal" a poet once said.

Faith and good fortune are surely not dead!

I'll find the right moment, biding my time,

Then off I will fly, straight into my prime!

Copyright © Robert Haigh 2020

Ben was kinda rough around the edges,

But Sally didn't care.

He came without promises or pledges,

But at least he was there.

She'd loved many men in her time, and yet

None had treated her well.

Would Ben turn out to be a better bet?

Now only time would tell.

Three things in Ben's favour: he neither drank,

Nor smoked, nor chased women.

So for those three things alone Sally could thank

Her lucky stars. Amen!

Much more than that, Ben sure was a cute one;

Sal saw that from the start.

She loved him like her only son;

Yes —

That kitten stole her heart!

Copyright © Robert Haigh 2017

I ride a dark horse

through the canyons

of our past;

Far away from 

the desert island of our

disaffected here and now.

I catch a glimpse of you

on a high bluff,

looking down at me.

You always did try to

occupy the high ground,

moral or otherwise.

But these dashing rides

always lead me back

here, where I find you

standing in front of me.

I watch as you sharpen

your anger against me.

Copyright © Robert Haigh 2011

When I was a lad, summers were longer.

Families were closer, and somehow stronger.

There were surely more birds and butterflies

That flitted and fluttered and filled the skies.

   I could be wrong — but I'm not!

Roads were much quieter — less traffic you'd see.

The grass was greener, and advice was free!

We played in the street, enjoying our games;

Neighbours were friendly — we knew all their names.

   I could be wrong — but I'm not!

We hadn't much money, but life was grand!

We walked to the shop with coppers in hand.

Big jars of sweets were there on display,

And we'd choose from different jars each day.

   I could be wrong — but I'm not!

Life was much simpler and worries were few.

Dad stoked the fire and mother made stew.

We'd all play Monopoly after our tea;

Back then not many folks owned a TV.

   I could be wrong — but I'm not!

Nowadays kids have oodles of stuff,

And still they want more. It's never enough!

When I was a lad I had what I'd got;

Not very much, and that was my lot!

   I could be wrong — but I'm not!

Copyright © Robert Haigh 2020