Robert L. Bixler III Poems

There reside’th, in thineself, a caustic evil.
One such the world hath tasted
As I tore’th at existence’s very navel;
Not would’th survived un-wasted.
...

Lyrical verse of a cold harmony,
Follow the calling to thy very knee.
When thee are called from the grave,
It will be’th thyself who invokes the knave.
...

Desires of isolation reside,
Not in the genetics of man
But are bred conditionals to abide
With a most disdainful omen.
...

It is only with a guarded heart
That I have sailed these tormenting seas,
Where, before crystal gaze start,
Cold dagger brings loving cease.
...

I beckon to the ever rising sun,
Whose dawn casts golden hue,

Surely she knows…
...

Through pounding music, smoked scene
My soul rested poignantly upon your poach.
Wrapped in the atmosphere, I drowned in your eyes.
A slow, soft buzz and smooth touch bred all the lies
...

(I don't feel like this one is complete.... I have just run out of inspiration to continue the metaphor.... maybe time will bring me back to it.)

Across soft, white sand solitary footsteps track
To the single beauty of tonight’s late hour.
...

Seven pounds of my soul cries for such salvation,
To give all of myself and turn disaster into redemption.
What would appear as apparent, calculated self destruction
Feints the obvious undertones of beautiful creation.
...

Trapped in Newtonian logic,
I was lost in a sea of rationale.
Blinded in encompassing physique,
Entranced in jesting femme fatale.
...

A thousand things I could say, still the words never leave my mouth
A thousand times I could have tried, still I fail my desires in conception
A thousand beats does my heart skip in anticipation of your arrival
A thousand lives must I live before the lines fall in place
...