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Robert Varblow Aug 2015
I

I was walking through

the forest of life

when I saw in my path

a shade whose spectral form

blocked my way to the

sweet fruits that lay beyond.

II

“Who are you, shade?”

I asked, “Why do I find you

now, in my travels?”

The shade spoke not but

instead pointed down yonder path

and grinned a shade’s grin.

III

Where he pointed I could

see through the space between trees

a castle as black as night from

where it sat brooding on a high hill.

Instantly were the fruits

forgotten, so great my urge

to reach and enter this castle.

IV

When I looked again, the

shade had vanished

and I was alone once more.

Quickly I continued down

the path and towards my goal.

V

The way was long and

as I finally reached the hill

upon which the castle sat

night had begun to fall.

VI

As I looked up, my first thought

was that the castle had vanished

leaving me alone and lost

at the end of the path.

VII

When suddenly I saw a flame

burn from one of its

high windows. I realized

the castle was still there

but as deeply black as the

darkening sky above.

VIII

Soon stars were visible

and the contrast of the infinite

darkness of the castle against them

seemed as if a great black hole

had opened up, revealing

the never ending darkness

that lies beyond what is known.

IX

Up I climbed until I

came to its great gate

and with beating heart

did I gently push it open

and enter the courtyard.

X

In it stood a fountain,

now dry, and beyond that

the crimson door through

which I would gain access

to this mysterious keep.

XI

As I approached the door

I could read the inscription

written by its large metal knocker:

“Behind you lies what is known,

ahead lies the unknown. For what

is behind this door changes everything.”

XII

Slowly did I push the door

and it quickly gave in.

I passed the threshold and

my eyes adjusted to the

the darkness inside.

XIII

As my vision cleared I

saw what lay in the middle of the room:

a pen and a blank piece of paper.
Robert Varblow May 2015
Beating on steering wheels
& knees waiting for
the rock apocalypse
Robert Varblow May 2015
I sit up late contemplating
the apocalypse in your eyes.
Robert Varblow Apr 2015
That feeling that everything
is extraordinary. Looking
up into the ceiling and
seeing straight through
and up at the stars.
Robert Varblow Apr 2015
You could **** a man
     with eyebrows like that.
Lips so pink
I would drink
     my fill
if I could.
The curve of your face
     more precious
          than the curvature
                of the earth.
The hair that
      falls down your back
could be woven to cloth
      just as you
are woven throughout
            my dreams.
Tonight, when I
      dream of you
(as I know I will),
I only hope
          you will look
     at least half
              as beautiful
as you do right now.
Robert Varblow Apr 2015
The monks
hunks of spiritual form
take to the ocean
on a cloudy winter morn
I see them from here
& it fills me with fear
for unearthly music
has begun to take form.
Robert Varblow Apr 2015
Oh mad hatted,
push cart rolling,
wanderer
wither goest thou?

Are you looking
for cans?
coins?
money to keep
on living?
money to keep on rolling?

I hope you
find your way
or at least
a place to
stay.

You're not alone
mad ***.
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