Robert Rorabeck

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

Robert Rorabeck Poems

2601. The Crippled Author Of My Old Song 4/1/2010
2602. My Remaining Breaths 4/1/2010
2603. Of More Surefooted Resorts 3/24/2010
2604. Like A Compass's Signal 3/24/2010
2605. Planets Of Our Earth 4/9/2010
2606. More Than Enough 4/9/2010
2607. His Own Wish 4/9/2010
2608. That You Ever Were 4/9/2010
2609. The World Even Before Your School Day 4/9/2010
2610. Everything To Me 4/9/2010
2611. Hard At Caressing Your Tide 4/9/2010
2612. Magnifying Boxes 4/9/2010
2613. Exactly What I Should Not Do 4/9/2010
2614. Otherwise Has Nothing Else To Lose 4/9/2010
2615. Out Of Esoteric Necessity 4/9/2010
2616. In An Obviously Bright And Sunny Day 4/9/2010
2617. Dive Bombing For Your Bloom 4/9/2010
2618. The Valley And Every Time 4/9/2010
2619. The Instruments They Learn To Enjoy 4/11/2010
2620. The Places Where They Used To Live 4/11/2010
2621. In Another World It Should Begin To Snow 4/11/2010
2622. For Their Makings Of Love 4/11/2010
2623. The Zephyrs Brushing Your Hair 4/11/2010
2624. Like A Butcher's Flower 4/11/2010
2625. The Places In Which We Were Found 4/11/2010
2626. Their Long Shows 4/11/2010
2627. The Few Things I Have Yet To Say 4/11/2010
2628. How I Hold You 4/11/2010
2629. Shelters Breathed Not From Wood 4/11/2010
2630. Victory Of Hope 4/11/2010
2631. The Beautiful Mystery Of This Song 4/11/2010
2632. These Sisters To The Heavens 4/11/2010
2633. The Departures Of Her Grace And Rapture 4/11/2010
2634. The Prolific Stock Of Your Divine Hips 4/11/2010
2635. I Continue Beckoning 4/11/2010
2636. Her Pearly And October Glades 4/11/2010
2637. With Hips Of Tattoos 4/12/2010
2638. Wet Dream Of A Well Crafted Boy 4/12/2010
2639. Pickpocket 4/12/2010
2640. The Fleeting Luck In My Paper World 4/12/2010

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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