Robert Rorabeck

Veteran Poet - 1,996 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

The Sunken Barbarians - Poem by Robert Rorabeck

See what happens when we drink:
Lonely occultish memory, green locks swaying
As the kelp,
Selky-ish heads persuaded against the pylons:
Lapsing upon the breathings of the sea.
Our heads are persuaded against the pylons
And for a little while, a few feet beneath
The water, we learn how to pray:
Senses bleeding into the beautiful emeralds,
Waltzed into the jewelry shops where
We find it hard to breathe—
I think of you for a little while as the sea finds
Her fancies in her caracoles—
Maybe she thinks she is putting on a ballet:
Foaming dancers who know their children
For just as long as we do, broken apart
Towards the partitions of the breathing world:
And we thank our little gods,
Nymphs who jettison their children in spumes
Of dew-drop ether:
They are gone before your lovers turn over—
As they give a sideways kiss to the Neanderthals
And the sunken barbarians,
Epitaphs with bouquets of swords in hand,
Offerings of an almost forgotten honor to a sideways
turning world.

Topic(s) of this poem: love and art


Comments about The Sunken Barbarians by Robert Rorabeck

There is no comment submitted by members..



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


Poem Submitted: Sunday, September 6, 2015



[Report Error]