"We are books.
Most people will judge us on our covers.
Some people will read us just to **** their time,
not to understand the content.
Some people will read us until the end of page,
but then throw us away;
to be forgotten in the dusty box.
Only few people will keep us as treasure,
appreciate every character every word every story,
and love us with their souls
with no time limit."
-Kanya Puspokusumo-

As an Artist needs a model
A Poet seeks a heart
An object of adoration
to spark the more
noble aspirations
and the brighter
things that are

The entreaty of
a knowing smile
The slightly tearing eye
The overwhelming
joy of happiness
That sweeps from
your heart to mine

When adorations
meet the adored
It's then beyond
the poets words
For there it all
begins and ends
With the knowing
look of Love.

-R.

(11.13.17)
-LA
-4S

am I become an asterisk in your life,
a small reminder of what once was soul-deep,
was the trumpet-radiance of character?
I wander, unshod, in the wilderness created of myself,
to revisit a dystopian dream, where my soul-scars
bleach white from time’s long goodbye
and my caged heart sings a canary’s song to no one

am I become Bukowski’s consummation of grief
dancing on thorns to a choreography of remorse
to a dissonancy of love?

when did I become a mere star-point in your
wintercircle, lost in the wilderness of your sky,

an asterisk abandoned in your asterism?


c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater

the pleasing rhythm of
your life entrains my heart
gives it loft
to sail above myself   that
it may die and I become alive

this is nostos
gesture to Home
greater than

this is Illich’s dying from
Death
unconditioned
unconditional
conditioned by Love

your eurythmia sails me
over the seas of
my limits
and beyond the mountains of
my intents
a realization of the loft in my soulbones
reaching up as
Love reaches down

the two meet at the
phoenix star   a
supernova from our
supernova


c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater

The broken man can not feel,
no, the broken man can not heal.
The broken man creates a child,
and leaves it defenseless in the wild.

The broken man does not care,
no, the broken man is never there.
The broken man is built to roam,
after he destroys your home.
He'll put your life upon a shelf,
yes, the broken man only loves himself.
The broken man has no voice,
ignoring common sense with every choice.

It's his world, it's his life,
you've been hurled, for his wife.
It's his plan, it's his goals,
the broken man leaves broken souls.

The broken man just lives for fun,
he believes he is the only one.
The broken man is always dazed,
and believes his family is not phased.
The broken man cares much for wealth,
but still he only loves himself.
The broken man is my father,
and I don't wish to be a broken daughter.

It's his world, it's his life,
he’s got pearl, I’ve got strife.
It's his clan, filled by holes,
the broken man leaves broken souls.

The broken man does not feel,
no, the broken man will always steal.
The broken man creates a child,
and the broken man has never smiled.
The broken man cares not for health,
but he'll always only love himself.
The broken man is my father,
because of the mother I miss; he forgot her.

It's his world, it's his life,
you've been hurled, for his wife.
It's his plan, it's his goals,
the broken man leaves broken souls.