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Neon Robinson Sep 2017
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Cabin Boy
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Wondering memories of wild adolescence,
Flash before me like a mental Rolodex
Reverberating daze,
Time cannot take away.
A fifteen–year–old,
Broken neck calypso.
Gazing through the jungle-o window
Unequipped to fathom what was about to happen.

I saw the moon in your eyes,
And knew;
You smile in the way that islands do,
And the zephyrs planned to bring your love back to me, too.

You were everything I imagined.
Sunlight on a dismal day,
The lone palm in the tropic heat,
A boyish grin that made my flowers bloom;
You were the Cabin Boy.
Realizing, all you can be at 23
is yourself.

And I am the wanderer's wandering daughter.
The pretty little minor that come hell or high water,
You broke California law for.

I waited at your f i n g e r
t
i
p
s
Just his little Pisces *******.
Who didn't exist till 1996.

An inevitable source of panic that would rise in his eyes
Every time he kissed,
Her Kona lips.
Until deciding he had to leave,
Claiming island fever, on his way out the back door.

Lost as a half-gone waning moon.  
With only the ocean’s waves continuous roar
Sun burnt, white foam, salt spray,
Condemned - to an inevitable end
Unable to prevail past the break at your soul's cliff edge.

I grab a raft to float;
In the deep waters of the heart.
Somewhere in between the no -
longer & the still -
to-come
Washed upon my soul’s sand.

Reaching out with new green shoots -
Resurrecting the chthonic biome
From deep within the molten core
Till the blocky incline fell away,
And I found myself;
On the surface of a lake of solidified lava.
To the boy that broke my heart.
  Aug 2017 Neon Robinson
Dylan
Sail away into obscurity,
leave the past the way
it may choose to be.

Untie the clever knots
of education' s reign
and the Hell it's wrought.

Travel far beyond obscenity,
and hang your hat, timidly,
to live with calm serenity.

Sail away into obscurity,
without contrived security.
  Aug 2017 Neon Robinson
Dylan
Om shanti tra-la-lace,
empty head fulla space.

Mismatched mouth and mind,
squawking every word ya find.

Buncha penny-sized pupils --
spun-out "gypsies" popping pills.

When ya finally say what ya mean,
I'll be where I was with no in between.

Om shanti tra-la-lo
pack yer patchouli and go.
Neon Robinson May 2017
The
'I' ~ 'we' ~ 'two' ~ 'three'
That can be told.

– Is not the

"Me" ~ "Us" ~ 'dichotomy'

… of threefold myth-informed souls
living the 9 + 2 = 5
tragedy.
A commentary on the strange ways of the world and society
Neon Robinson Apr 2017
For my muse, I choose the euphoric source
Of my most transcendent -

   Lovely
- Muddy
Memories.

Perceptual flashes ― slosh slushing
Approaching an untamed blue-green pond
Just your average amphibian gone blonde.
In sunshine or windward shower.

Loitering around the grassy brim,
On that one slick rock, I stood up
Catch a fish ― oooooh you swift ⁓
Let it back in?

Or you could...
Run screaming like the flaming river rumbling down the mountain.
To the lunulate lagoon?? in the front yard

Hop & stand
Fish in hand You. Have. To. Make. It.  

But     the        gargantuan          estate.  .     . it's too late.

That tiny t-rex gait ― might just seal
That golden guppies fait.

Cause you sprung like spring
And set that little sucker free.
Orchard Land Estate in Puna, HI childhood wonderland in the jungle
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