Robert Rorabeck

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

Robert Rorabeck Poems

1081. The Greatly Anonymous Moonbeams 6/5/2009
1082. Up In The Morning 6/6/2009
1083. Moving Closer To Dunsinane 6/7/2009
1084. Basking In Her Pollens Of Her Wake 6/7/2009
1085. The Venemously Homeless Convictions Of Sad Runaways 6/7/2009
1086. Even More Lines For The Sacrificial Untouchables 6/7/2009
1087. The Operas Of Their Truancies’ Jubilant Moods 6/8/2009
1088. In The Crypt Of Utopia 6/8/2009
1089. The Delicious Fats Of Forbidden Playthings 6/8/2009
1090. Things Which Must Yet Be Spoken 6/8/2009
1091. What I Already Told You 6/8/2009
1092. Virgin Mary In The Mexico Of Her Poisonous And Absolutely Beautiful Metamorphosis 6/8/2009
1093. Quiet Reasons To Live 6/8/2009
1094. How Much I Have 6/9/2009
1095. Women Out In The Routes And Bays Of Old 66 6/9/2009
1096. Spilling Their Philosophies Of Ladies' Magazines 6/9/2009
1097. Counterintuitive To The Natural Gulf Stream 6/10/2009
1098. Maidenhood Of Patriotism 6/10/2009
1099. Over And Gone 6/10/2009
1100. The Unopened Gas-Station Of My Homeless Appalachia 6/10/2009
1101. Over The Doorsteps Of My Forsaken Hearthstone 6/11/2009
1102. Before She Could Fall In Love 6/11/2009
1103. Silently Going Along My Way 6/12/2009
1104. Inside, A Garden Or A Gun 6/12/2009
1105. The Momentary Playground Of Youth's Fickle Beauty 6/12/2009
1106. The Irony Of Immense Sunlight On A Dead-End Highway 6/12/2009
1107. Unpublished Scribblers Tediously Feral Petting Zoo 6/13/2009
1108. Promising Her Enamored Reflection Across The Setting Denoument Of Meaningful Atmosphere 6/13/2009
1109. Spying From The Distances Of My Ambiguous Library 6/13/2009
1110. The Waves Of Your Apathetic Beauty 6/13/2009
1111. The Funerals Of Average Sorts 6/13/2009
1112. The Average Bum 6/13/2009
1113. Without Having To Say One Thing 6/25/2009
1114. Regular Motions 6/25/2009
1115. Thoughts Which Cannot Be Explained 6/25/2009
1116. Curious For Awhile 6/25/2009
1117. Scars And Cadillacs And Push Brooms 6/25/2009
1118. Crossing The Cemetery 6/25/2009
1119. Looking Into Your Eyes 6/25/2009
1120. The Arms Of Planets Who Are Still Alive 6/25/2009

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
    Peter

  • 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
Meadow
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

Appomattox

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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