Robert L. Bixler III Poems

“Be careful when you play with fire” they say,
But if you never open yourself enough to burn;
Then you will never feel that encompassing day.
If you never get singed, you can never learn
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As the cold seeps slowly in
And the warmth once there fades,
How does one continue on?
To move members frozen solid,
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Three times the sun awoke in the east,
Only to lazily sink to its bed in the west,
Before I was free of commanded action;
Required to lay hot rocks down the range.
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Three women fight over my heart,
Holding me bound to their desire.
The quarrel stagnates without start
As the sirens enlighten the liar.
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In darkness swirling sound
Death is abound and all around.
Find your solace in the final requiem
When with salty taste life leaves, carpe diem.
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Quietly she reads
As my heart loudly pounds
Straight posture, her presence cedes
An eloquence that is beyond my slouching bounds.
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Shapeless, shifting fog rolls in.
Aimless, nervous eyes project.
Amorphous solid substance-elect
Becomes all I have been.
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In He walks, perfectly smart,
The one that every man should be.
One glance, He steals many a’ heart.
His finesse does every eye see.
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Inanimate stare upon light’s fading touch,
Has replaced ignorance with heavy wisdom.
The cold, harsh emptiness in which I clutch
Is but an outer representation of inner schism.
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Delight in the sight of the perfect fight
End the trend only to find a friend.
Handle any scandal with a burning candle
Quite the night that she showed you the light.
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