Robert Rorabeck

(04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

When I Write


When I write I write
Maybe an hour or 2 a day
but the #s stay with
Me like lead
From my fingertips
Seeping deeper
Ink on my lips
My face molts
I rust
When I write the feeling
Creeps through me like
The morning after too
Much alcohol
Cold shivers a mirror
I can’t get it out of my face
And her
When I write
She turns on over my bed
A lamp shaped like a leg
Filled with effervescing
Beer and drunken fish,
Possibilities,
Prizes,
Games
And carnivals
When I write God puts
Her rib back into me
The first pain
Her breath in me
Her love in me
When I write I can’t get
Her out,
And it would be okay
If I had her,
But I don’t even know her number
When I write her favorite
Color is blue
When I write she only
Wears a fig leaf
And my fingers
When I write
Her fingers tear apart
My temples
Like rotten fruit
When I write
God flies for hours my
Teeth taste like microwaved metal
When I she’s just
There
She’s just there the next door
Over
When I write
I cup her breast
Oh, God, how long it’s been
When I write for just an hour
It’s all it takes
And she’s with me all day
Nakedness and beautiful eyes
And milk and sweat and
Redness and the places on her
I put myself
When I write
When I write
It’s like mercury settling
In a crown around my temple
Silt
Gently
Higher and higher
When I write I’m Harvey
Silver
Jack Micheline’s alter ego
Jewish actor
Rimbaudian misfit
When I write
I’m with her
When I write I’m burned
Through Bukowksi’s fire
When I write I’m in Michelangelo’s
Fresco
Reaching out for God
His hand the promise
The self I lie in when
I write
She’s in my mouth
I can taste her
It’s just too much not to have
Her
I put the pen down to
Spit her out but I’ve
Already swallowed her
Candy poison
When I write
It’s like being inside her.

Submitted: Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (When I Write by Robert Rorabeck )

Enter the verification code :

  • Adryan Rotica (1/26/2006 12:59:00 AM)

    Haunting and beautiful Robert......your hearts still smoking and your yearning reminds me of the story, ''The Notebook'...writing, connects you to her...... and your constant force will draw her back to you with your consistancy....a charming poem...~ (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Creative Solutions, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  2. गोरबो इसिँनिफ्राइ -32, Ronjoy Brahma
  3. Disagreeing With Care, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  4. Outer Limits, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  5. Keep simply cool, hasmukh amathalal
  6. गोरबो इसिँनिफ्राइ -31, Ronjoy Brahma
  7. Folds Of Death, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  8. hey dipstick, this is for you, Mandolyn Davidson
  9. Time - I know not, gajanan mishra
  10. Poetry is For Lovers, Cheryl Griffith

Poem of the Day

poet Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]