Robert Rorabeck

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

Robert Rorabeck Poems

2241. What I Am Looking For 2/15/2010
2242. The Little Things That Can Almost Kill 2/15/2010
2243. Into Another Far Off And Lycanthropic Night 2/15/2010
2244. Just Some More Thoughts 2/15/2010
2245. Of Baseball Players And Really Lucky Genies 2/15/2010
2246. The Fake Diamond Tabernacles Of Being Your Friend 2/15/2010
2247. The Cats In The Cinderblocks Cleaning Their Young 2/15/2010
2248. In A Deeply Sated Creche Against The Eves 2/15/2010
2249. The Muse Of My 2/15/2010
2250. The Muse Of My Eternal Stories 2/15/2010
2251. The Feeling Of My Sound 2/15/2010
2252. My Inescapable Of Tomorrows 2/15/2010
2253. The Rest Of My Days 2/16/2010
2254. The Cataracts Of Her Homeopathic Oils 2/16/2010
2255. In Your Office An Orchid Blooms 2/16/2010
2256. Your Amens 2/16/2010
2257. Like Marmalade In The Shade 2/16/2010
2258. Even Though You Say You Are Still A Good Girl 2/16/2010
2259. Just Trying To Survive 2/16/2010
2260. Where I Remain Dreaming 2/16/2010
2261. The Exhibit Of Your Thoughtless Well Of Souls 2/16/2010
2262. Holidays Of Interchangeable Heirlooms 2/17/2010
2263. The Names I Will Never Know 2/18/2010
2264. The Ivy Of A More Inner Dove 2/18/2010
2265. That Wonderous Religion That I Name After You 2/18/2010
2266. The Deafening Loam 2/21/2010
2267. What They Were Named Anyways 2/23/2010
2268. Your Beautiful Insociance 2/23/2010
2269. The Rich Layers Of Unawares 2/23/2010
2270. Unglorified Peach In An Unexplainable Rainstorm 2/23/2010
2271. The Greater Wrath Of A Mothering Soul 2/23/2010
2272. Just Exactly What You Are 2/23/2010
2273. My Bluest Wishes 2/23/2010
2274. You Are So Beautiful That My Heart Doesn'T Care Where It Resides 2/23/2010
2275. Without Even Knowing Why 2/23/2010
2276. The Breath To Go On Living 2/23/2010
2277. Who I Really Am 2/24/2010
2278. Which Is What You Are 2/24/2010
2279. Satisfied And Alone 2/25/2010
2280. Gladiolas Of A Wider 2/25/2010

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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