Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,259 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

Robert Rorabeck Poems

4481. Riches Of A Misbegotten World 8/19/2011
4482. The Unschooled Moonlight 8/19/2011
4483. Their Incalculable Blessings 8/19/2011
4484. Trinket Of Her 8/19/2011
4485. The Tomorrow I'Ll Never Know 8/19/2011
4486. What Was Its Yesterday 8/19/2011
4487. The Discolored Neighborhoods Of Our Anyways 8/19/2011
4488. In The Red Clay 8/19/2011
4489. Nightmares 8/19/2011
4490. Through The Heavenly Fires 8/19/2011
4491. Young And Over Eager Skeletons 8/19/2011
4492. The Days Of Their Nights 8/19/2011
4493. How To Get Down 8/19/2011
4494. Because Of A Happiness 8/21/2011
4495. The Colors Of Our Throats 8/21/2011
4496. The Meaning Of Their Words 8/21/2011
4497. Something Like Tears 8/21/2011
4498. Lavender Apairy Of Your Honey Eyes 8/21/2011
4499. The Strange Contrivances 8/21/2011
4500. Their Very Habitat 8/21/2011
4501. The Whispers Of The Butterflies 8/21/2011
4502. The Forgotten Parts Of Her Town 8/21/2011
4503. The Charade Of Their Tears 8/23/2011
4504. Thefts Of Nocturnal Thievery 8/23/2011
4505. The Goddess Of Their Adolescent Loves 8/23/2011
4506. Like The Spokes Of A Bicycle 8/23/2011
4507. The Fiery Absences 8/23/2011
4508. In The Illusions Of Her Forests 8/23/2011
4509. Through The Orange Groves 8/23/2011
4510. In The Naked Estuaries 8/23/2011
4511. Even As They Fly 8/23/2011
4512. Captains Of Their Bedrooms 8/23/2011
4513. The Make Believe Tombstones Of A Graveyard 8/23/2011
4514. In The Playgrounds That You Can'T Remember 8/23/2011
4515. Until You Nod Off 8/26/2011
4516. Somewhere Above The Common World 8/26/2011
4517. The Nocturnal Curtain 8/26/2011
4518. The Ash Of Birthday Cakes 8/27/2011
4519. The Classroom Where The Cenotaphs Exist 8/26/2011
4520. The Portable Home 8/26/2011

Comments about Robert Rorabeck

  • Z. M. Wise Z. M. Wise (4/23/2015 12:03:00 AM)

    From what minescule fragments of a stockpile of poetic brilliance, I am completely blown away by Mr. Rorabeck's work. From his style and influences to his timing, rhythm, etc...I hope he never ceases this archaic and timeless craft. POETRY LIVES! !

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  • Justin Reamer Justin Reamer (5/17/2012 12:41:00 PM)

    I believe Bret is a very good poet. He seems to know what it takes to be a good poet. His rime and rhythm is evenly matched, and he knows how to convey his message in his poem. His poetry is flowing and soothing to the ear. He is one of the best modern poets on this site.

  • Peter O'Brien (9/18/2011 1:53:00 PM)

    A lovely selection of poems! The silver & gold of of famous wordsmiths - Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Lorca, Whitman & others! 'These fragment have I shored against my ruin...'. thanks

  • Jim Troy (8/10/2011 5:56:00 AM)

    I have read just one and had to leave my applause.
    Gratefully looking forward, the honor to read more of your great works........Jim Troy

  • Jenda Lecroy (4/14/2010 9:14:00 PM)

    A true poet. Old soul, new life.

  • Virginie Guillemette (3/6/2008 1:41:00 PM)

    i really enjoy your work...i feel the sense of time given your words, as if you choose them as one chooses the ripest cherries in the pile. clever and from an honest place.

Best Poem of Robert Rorabeck

A Flower In The Rain

I want to fall on you like rain
upon a wildflower
Opening new reason from you
Scaring all the old bees away from
Pollinating your bed
Scaring all the fake men off who
Can only stand the sun
So it’s just me and you in the
The rabbits in the hole
The grasses are wet and beginning to bow
The forest is damp and sleepy
And in the meadow
I bend down and kiss your petals wetly
Falling all over you
Letting your pistil slip into my mouth
Sucking off your honey,
Almost plucking you
But not going so far
Just pulling you so that you can ...

Read the full of A Flower In The Rain


In bed with the early morning shadows
bleeding the night into another killing
where glorious colors like afterbirth flows
in nebular jets into the horizon’s bowl,
revealed, I have the presentiment that my
life will fail, and rising against my Northern
dreams, I secede against their human impulse
of hope, and the cities inside me scream,
“You will never have her. She will never love you! ”

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