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462 · Feb 2014
Genesis
Rob Rutledge Feb 2014
The brave are always the first to die.
So as it was it came as no surprise
That the last man left on earth alive,
A coward to the core,
Who sold it all, for the twinkle of an eye.
Alone with the wind and tumultuous sky
He looked to the heavens and prayed to die.

Left to pick up all of the broken pieces
Of yet another fallen species,
Adam walked disheveled and defeated.
Picking off the scraps of fallen bones,
Humanity long forgotten and disowned,
Foraging through ashen fields
Where the seeds of death had long been sown.

As thin as a rake,
Vultures followed in wake
As he warred and carved his way.
Through ghostly roads
Derelict towns and abodes
Down past the streets of decay.
And just when he felt he could endure no more
He found himself at an abandoned mall.
The word 'Eden'
Carved upon the wall.

Ravenous in hunger,
Adam slathered and growled
When he stumbled into the reptile house
And saw what he had found.
A snake rich in protein,
Sustenance abound
But Adam was not the only one
In that house to be found.

A scurry,
A shadow,
The faintest of movements in the air,
But yes,
Something stirred,
A woman in rags, teeth bared.

Adam handed her half of his snake
And for a moment all was still.
Till she wolfed it down at the speed of sound
A feat you would never believe,
She looked sharply at Adam
Eyes narrowed and said,
"I'm Eve."
458 · Nov 2018
Deja Who?
Rob Rutledge Nov 2018
I will turn today to yesterday!
So we can repeat the same mistakes;

In the bound loops of fires fury
Futile fight, hands cuffed by fate.

Beat the horizon of tomorrow today!
Sorrows washed and cast away,

Burning cleanse of sun's fell rays
Cast shadows on sun scorched glades.

Something lurks within the haze
Delays surrender of the sun,
The dark begins to march,
Parched earth drinks the night.

A pounding of the feet
Lets drink Guinness and eat red meat.
Blood flows freely in the streets,
Concrete dreams and broken teeth.
A token for the city
A token for the priest.
The least of all our sins
Wept, confessed, absolved.
Whispers born again in
The hollows of the walls.
457 · Dec 2014
On a Starry Eve
Rob Rutledge Dec 2014
A sleeping satellite peeks
Over the shoulders of Orion
Late on a clear christmas eve.
Winking at the world below
The light reflects off passing clouds
A slice of silver flows.
Trickling into far cast shadows
Bathed in an incandescent glow.

The moon lays resplendent
The crowning jewel of the sky
Where many a tired traveller
Became lost within her eyes.
Disguising the fire of the sun
Basking in the pale half-light
Untill this night is done.
And
When the moon gives way
To the cold light of day.
The stars are kept at bay.
Hidden out of sight
Furious
At their chains that bind them to the night.
455 · Jan 2015
Secret
Rob Rutledge Jan 2015
Tell me a secret,
One you've been keeping
Quiet, still beating
After all these years.
Start at the beginning
Till you find the feelings
That once gave meaning
To all your fears.

Was it the lullaby
Softly sung in the night
That brought a tear
To your eye?
Was it family leaving,
Friend lists depleting,
The child that died
In your arms.

It was never easy,
This world will defeat me
One day at a time.
So did you give up the fight?
At the very first sight
After being blind.
So tell me a secret
One you've been keeping
And one that will make you smile.
451 · Aug 2013
Folly
Rob Rutledge Aug 2013
To say someone is weird or different
Is to then claim us all the same.
This is naught but folly at its finest,
One game we all have played.
448 · Jun 2014
One more word
Rob Rutledge Jun 2014
What is one more word?
Among the vortex of voices
That fuel the conscious storm.
Above the din and the Socratic
Winds, silence is born not heard.
445 · Jul 2014
Youth
Rob Rutledge Jul 2014
Youth was never about the innocence
Or the ignorance of what lay ahead.
It was never the friendships
Sailing the waves of imagination.
Or releshing the times we were astray and led.

It was certainly never the dreams,
We have those our entire life
Eight hours a day or night
Spent in mind forged make believe.
It was never the plans that were hatched,
Thatched and woven but semi detached
From what it all could mean.

That lack of conscience, the guilt
It all does feed the fire.
And that is youth, a proving ground
Among candles and lanterns, bonfires,
Cities raized to the ground.
Perhaps a grand symphony of light
May, with time and care be made,
The image burned on an iris fades.
Drowned out and forgotten by the
Light of a billion flames.
443 · Jun 2013
I was thinking... (10w)
Rob Rutledge Jun 2013
I was thinking...
Potential is nothing
Until it is realised.
443 · May 2013
Mars (haiku)
Rob Rutledge May 2013
A light in the dark
Shadow of your former self.
Red iron rusting.
442 · May 2014
Lessons (Haiku)
Rob Rutledge May 2014
The lessons in school,
They come not in the classroom
But in the playground.
430 · Jul 2013
? (Haiku)
Rob Rutledge Jul 2013
What is wrong with us?
Maybe the question should be,
What is right with us?
429 · Aug 2013
Now what? (Haiku)
Rob Rutledge Aug 2013
What is it we do,
When the bottle is empty
And the baggie too?
426 · Jul 2024
A Glass Shore
Rob Rutledge Jul 2024
I bow to no man, god, nor country,
But for you I would take a knee.
Walk upon a shore of glass
Proclaim vows unto the sea.
A voice once lost in tides,
The winds and ocean swell.
Found again once more upon
Echoed whispers of a shell.
421 · Sep 2013
Look Up
Rob Rutledge Sep 2013
We only get to see the stars
So many times.
419 · Jun 2020
The Falcon
Rob Rutledge Jun 2020
From the depths of chaos we departed
Chartered passage to unknown shores,
Past forests and deserts of solitude
To the walls of an ancient war.

Though those walls would crumble,
Rumble, as if of thunders roar.
The silence served would deafen,
Beckon all toward fate's door.

As our feet grow ever weary
From eerie path trod cobbled floor
And souls succumb to violence,
Tyrants of terror but nothing more.

Our shoulders bear the burden
Of verdant lands long lost to time.
The sun-scorched pastures rotten,
Forgotten laws and untold crime.

The serf shall not suffer the baron,
Talons shall pierce their skin no more.
Enwrought by the breath of dragons,
Falcons are born to soar.
390 · Feb 2020
Franky
Rob Rutledge Feb 2020
Just ten years old
You're smoking that indo.
Kicked your dad in the shin
Jumped out the window.
Didn't know which way to go
Down the street.
You took a left but you left
With no shoes on your feet.

Franky do you remember?
All the cracks in September
Amsterdam's not far away.
Franky do you remember?
All that's left is the embers
And a sense of slow decay.
386 · Apr 29
Courtier
Rob Rutledge Apr 29
We court our own defeat.
Aqua Regia in our cups
Hubris curled up at our feet.
The throne is a fickle thing,
Jesters are sequestered
By whims of alabaster
Rose crowned Queens.

The King is an utter fool,
Barons are not your friend.
The Joker always finds
The dungeon in the end.
Oubliettes of our own design,
Gossamer wrought chains
Webs spun within our minds.
374 · Nov 2014
Untitled
Rob Rutledge Nov 2014
You're never at your worst
Till you're riding in a hearse
First place in a funeral procession.
In the depths of a recession
Death notes write confessions
Of the obsessions of the heart.
218 · May 14
Banquet
Rob Rutledge May 14
We dine on tears again this evening,
Sipping vessels that shan't run dry.
The banquet halls tonight are heaving,
Guests dreaming of clearer skies.
197 · Apr 17
Fragment
Rob Rutledge Apr 17
From the shattering came the still
It was a peace of sorts,
That dew caressed morning,
Songs of dawn chorus trill.

This world will turn without you,
The wind won't breathe your loss.
The silence will speak in volumes
Of dusty shelves that time forgot.

First we must remember,
And then we shall regret,
Crawling back toward the shadows
Beg the darkness, let us forget.

And so we never learn,
Sat at tables forever turning
Burning hunger never ends.
151 · Apr 8
Wagon
Rob Rutledge Apr 8
A wheel falls off a wagon,
Perhaps an *** has stubbed its toe.
For one reason and another
The band begins to slow,
Then stop.
Horses trot upon the spot.
They neigh,
Dismayed,
Shaking snow from off their mane.
While this driver softly curses,
Nurses a bottle to **** the pain.
150 · May 18
Foreign Shores
Rob Rutledge May 18
Speak soft on foreign shores.
When the sands feel unfamiliar
And we are strangers to their law.
Heed the warnings of your clan.
Those who told of troubled waters
Where the oceans meet the land.
Feel like this needs another stanza. May revise and add to it in the future.
139 · May 30
Of The Valley
Rob Rutledge May 30
The wasteland looks like eden
After a long and tortured road.
We were promised no such land
Nor any home that we are owed.
Still we took that beaten path
Knowing well where it may go.

By the gods what fools we be!
Seeing neither haunted forests
Or the weeping, dying trees.
We saw instead clear flowing streams
Ignored the way they slithered,
Withered valley and the rose.
Or how the heart can carve a lily
Into a candle in the snow.

— The End —