Robert Rorabeck

Bronze Star - 2,196 Points (04/10/1978 / Berrien Springs)

Robert Rorabeck Poems

6241. The Wind-Thrown Bottles 6/9/2015
6242. The Mirages Of A Once Poisonous Artistry 7/10/2015
6243. What Was Supposed To Have Been An Ode To Zucker's Bicycle 7/10/2015
6244. In The Momenty Of Her Heart's Beating 7/21/2015
6245. The Sun Caresses The Seas 7/21/2015
6246. The Patios Of The Passersby 7/21/2015
6247. The Sunken Barbarians 9/6/2015
6248. The Ferris Wheels Of Her Soul 10/6/2015
6249. The Delphic Mirror 10/6/2015
6250. Roses In The Abscesses Of Concrete 12/1/2015
6251. Upon Your Vulpine Lawn 12/1/2015
6252. The Adventures Of Cadavers 12/1/2015
6253. Ji Kwon Kong: A Poem For My Father 1/4/2016
6254. The Ambergris Of The White Whales 1/18/2016
6255. By Another Mourning 1/18/2016
6256. Tiger Cake 1/30/2016
6257. In The Extinct Romances Of A Christian Valentine 2/11/2016
6258. Elbows Of Memory 2/11/2016
6259. The Crepescule Of Shanghai 2/29/2016
6260. A Siren For Truancy 3/16/2016
6261. In The Playground Of Unremembered Rules 4/5/2016
6262. Movie Theatre For Those Wounds Of The Heart 5/26/2016
6263. Some New Kind Of Baseball Game 6/4/2016
6264. The Resonance Of My Children 7/6/2016
6265. Like Rockets Exploding For The Fourth Of July 7/6/2016
6266. The Billboards Of Mascara 7/6/2016
6267. The Wishing Wells Of The Dimmly Lit Amusement Park 7/6/2016
6268. Hieroglyphics Of Our Nostalgias 7/25/2016
6269. The Greenness Of A Promised Holiday 7/29/2016
6270. Saturn's Jewel Incrusted Rings 8/23/2016
6271. The Eternal Negative Of The Most Beautiful Mountains 8/31/2016
6272. The Lines Of Clouds 9/13/2016
6273. Nursery Rhyme 9/16/2016
6274. Blindness's Feast 9/17/2016
6275. The Last Of The Two Of Our Loneliest Of Children 9/28/2016
6276. The Silver Waves To A Golden Shore 10/28/2016
6277. By My Early Forties 11/4/2016
6278. Cadmus's Hounds 11/23/2016
6279. Lo And Behold 12/3/2016
6280. Mary Did You Know? The Purely Scientific Version 12/6/2016

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

Prehistoric Red Room

I’ve created behind my eyes
A prehistoric red room
where extinct women gyrate
to the flickering kiss of
kerosene lamps, everyone
who lived before me and
died in Detroit with the
junkyards visits me here-
relaxing on red vinyl

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