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"corbin" poems
The twenty-one gun salute that pierced your soul at the funeral of your grandfather, Col. Robert Corbin Lowry, was a fitting tribute to a man who loved you dearly; a soldier who fought bravely, led his men with compassion, humbly carried the scars of service, and endured each Fourth of July as too-noisy a reminder of the shots that pierced his soul in Vietnam. As you live your life, honor him by continuing to be the granddaughter in whom he was so proud. You have always done that well. ©2002 Michael S Davis
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
Honor
It can cure an internal bleed, It can put your soul at ease. It will show you to me, It will flow, if you please. Hopes and dreams, all to jot. With a touch, your shields may drop, Moments of clarity on a paper plot- And with enough, your pain will stop. It can cure the itch within, It can help you, just begin.  Believe and you will see.. That most of all, Your pen may set you free.  -Corbin
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
The Pen
In a world full of hatred, In a land so far and lost, How can I withstand, And what will it cost?  A fire set brightly ablaze. Flames; I'll feel them all. Walking through the haze. Shame; I'm about to fall.  -Corbin
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
Failings
I'm bored of reading political views I'm bored of watching the **** on the news I'm bored of having to have and opinion I'm bored I'm tired of people wanting to fight I'm tired of people who think their view is right I'm tired of the views of the right and the left I'm tired I'm fed up with always having to judge I'm fed up of people who's opinions won't budge I'm fed up that I can't just get on with my life I'm fed up I'm sick of talking of David Cameron I'm sick of talking of Donald Trump I'm sick of talking of Boris Johnson I'm sick of talking of Bernie Sanders I'm sick of talking of Jeremy Corbin I'm sick of politics I want to talk about people and life David Cameron is just a person Jeremy Corbin is just a person Not bad guys and good Don't get annoyed with the guy at the top because he doesn't do things the way that he should. Don't create a system where we put him on top and then moan coz he doesn't do it the way that we would. Darkly sarcastic cynical views do little that's good. They leave me bereft Don't split up the range and complexity of human ideals into a basic idea of right and left. Right and wrong. Them and us. Cameron and Corbin. Trump and Sanders. Rich and poor. It's not that simple They're all just people You can't lift one up on a steeple And cast the other into hell Some of what they say is right as well We're blind men with an elephant And our discussions just aren't elegant And until we listen to opposing views I'm just going to stop watching the news.
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Not even sure what this poem was, just ended up a bit boring I think
I'm bored of reading political views I'm bored of watching the **** on the news I'm bored of having to have and opinion I'm bored I'm tired of people wanting to fight I'm tired of people who think their view is right I'm tired of the views of the right and the left I'm tired I'm fed up with always having to judge I'm fed up of people who's opinions won't budge I'm fed up that I can't just get on with my life I'm fed up I'm sick of talking of David Cameron I'm sick of talking of Donald Trump I'm sick of talking of Boris Johnson I'm sick of talking of Bernie Sanders I'm sick of talking of Jeremy Corbin I'm sick of politics I want to talk about people and life David Cameron is just a person Jeremy Corbin is just a person Not bad guys and good Don't get annoyed with the guy at the top because he doesn't do things the way that he should. Don't create a system where we put him on top and then moan coz he doesn't do it the way that we would. Darkly sarcastic cynical views do little that's good. They leave me bereft Don't split up the range and complexity of human ideals into a basic idea of right and left. Right and wrong. Them and us. Cameron and Corbin. Trump and Sanders. Rich and poor. It's not that simple They're all just people You can't lift one up on a steeple And cast the other into hell Some of what they say is right as well We're blind men with an elephant And our discussions just aren't elegant And until we listen to opposing views I'm just going to stop watching the news.
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You say you came back for me, Yet here I am completely alone. The day you came back to me, It almost felt like I was at home. I don't even know what to think - Your silence has alarms sounding. So I guess I'll have another drink - I can't swim and I am drowning. To you, I'm just not important; You put everything above me. I grab for something imported; My whiskey always loves me. So another line I start pouring, As my feelings are faded - It's six fifty five in the morning, And I am ******* wasted. -Corbin
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May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
I Am Fu*king Wasted
I met you as scars carried in the clouds. You were the thunderstorm I ran through. A crescendo rattling past the shallow surface of heartbeats, together we were a depth unto ourselves; By the souls, we found a loss of time.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
Corbin: Fin
Looking down.. And walking through. All around; The crowds don't know you. Not a sound.. Your eyes are glued- to social media, and internet news.  Feeling proud.. Of a thousand friends, who never talk. You are abound; "Hey you, watch where you walk!" It's all so fake, Your life's at stake. These are the dangers.. Of becoming- Another Troubled Screenager.  -Corbin
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Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
Another Troubled Screenager
Save me from this darkness; This black and endless night. Every day since you departed, At any moment, there's no light. I walk into the downpour, Let the rain cleanse my soul; Warmed by solipsism outdoors, Impervious to the winter's cold.  These raindrops freeze to my skin, Encasing my body; I've ceased.  These chains hold my heart within; I've no desire to be released.  The elements never stood a chance, When we first touched to embrace. No tremulous as I ask for this dance, These feelings cannot be erased. I'm armed with something stronger- Than you've ever in your life known. So please don't wait any longer.. Open your eyes, and come back home. -Corbin
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
Come Back Home
Twisted, demented; Sacred but rotten. Sitting in the corners; Memories forgotten. Holes in the walls Are filled with eyes. They watch you walk; They see your cries. Twisted laughter echoes far; Bloodied knives upon the bar. Take your steps on creaking floorboards- Tallies kept on the scoreboard. Of those who came, But never left. Screams of pain; No one's exempt. There is no power; The lights still flicker. An empty chair rocks, It's made of wicker.  You feel a touch, But no one's there. You think too much; You shouldn't dare.  Take your steps, And take them slow. You'll feel regret, Before the final blow. Blood runs down the windowsills From all the souls this house has killed. Trails of scratches tattoo the walls, Of those before who resisted and clawed.  They tried so hard to escape, But in the end, they sealed their fate For once you enter, it is the end- In this horror shop, forever you'll spend.  -Corbin
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Horror Shop
I feel the reaper coming, Coming to take my soul. Feel the time is running- Out, as each breath is old. I feel the moments passing As my heart turns to stone. Feel the dreams aren't lasting, As my mind burns cold. When I am awake, I'm dreaming, Dreaming of being awake. I feel the cold hands creeping; Reaching for my soul to take.  See you standing there- And.. and I cannot stay. Heavy is this life of care- And, as is my heart this day.  Specters and echoes, Looking to take my soul. Lectures to let go- Of when my story's told. I feel you coming closer, I will not. back. down. The noose is dropping lower; I will be finished, now.  -Corbin
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Take My Soul
Freezing waves of volcanic fire, Rolling in, higher and higher. Amidst the shores I stand and wait, To see you once more; seal my fate. My feet cemented in these sands As you test my love and dreams. See how much my heart withstands As I drown in my want and needs. The waves come crashing down; I look for solace in this lonely place. The waves come crashing down, As a single tear, runs down my face. -Corbin
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
Solace
You are an *** That is true I can't quite think Of anything good about you You harass many Apparently it's fun I listen to your dumb *** jokes Hey, are you yet done?
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Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
Corbin
Scattered thoughts; Disjointed dreams. Shattered and lost; Torn at the seams. You should have seen, my dear. A pain deep inside; Feeling the distance. What I cannot hide; Concealing my resistance. You should have seen, my dear. A love so pure; Nothing can defeat it. Of this I'm sure; It'll not be repeated. You should have seen, my dear. Weakly I crumble; Falling to pieces. Everything I fumble; I cannot believe this. You should have seen, my dear. Open your eyes; Belief and hope. Hear my cries; Believe what I wrote. You should have seen... A single tear will fall, As I crash to the floor. Everything I believed.. Will be seen.. none more. -Corbin
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Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
The Invisible
Here's to the years  Full of dreams and dwelling fears.. To the nights when I would wipe away your falling tears, To the screams when whispers were all I could hear.. Here's to what it seems.. And to when it all becomes clear. To all the means that brought us here. Truth is free and truthfully I think we've kept it truth free, or so it seems to be.  So here's to the years, of you and me.  -Corbin
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Here's to the Years
Stuffed animals and posters of Corbin Bleu could have never prepared me for this moment. Your hands touch me back like the pictures never could. Your deliberate and calculated movements tell me your experience is not just limited to teddy bears. My arms are not as adept as yours, not as practiced. I have spaghetti limbs and wobbly knees. You say I’m a fast learner but something tells me you're humoring my fumbles, my awkward hands, and hesitant tongue. You maneuver your frozen hands under my Hello Kitty graphic tee. My newly awakened ******* are firm yet flexible like buds before a blossom. Be gentle, the buds are fragile. You fiddle with my zipper and reach into my daisy print ******* These petals are not yet ready to be plucked. Not ready to be stolen and scattered in a game of “she loves me, she loves me not” But I cannot seem to release the one word that could save me. I am quite literally petrified, suspended in this moment like one of those prehistoric dragonflies in amber. My brain has called a moratorium on movement. It waits for a moment of safety for my wings to start beating again. You will smoke me like one of your cigarettes. Twisting me in your yellow fingers. Taking drags of my innocence. Until I am used and smooshed into the sidewalk. I will not realize this until later. Because I am somehow addicted to your type of nicotine. Tears become crystallized in their ducts. One touch could shatter me. I plaster a smile on my face, but even concrete crumbles. My face shakes. My mask falls. The facade you wanted to **** disappears. I am more vulnerable than I ever have been
0
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 4:49 AM UTC
In remembrance of things lost
Stuffed animals and posters of Corbin Bleu could have never prepared me for this moment. Your hands touch me back like the pictures never could. Your deliberate and calculated movements tell me your experience is not just limited to teddy bears. My arms are not as adept as yours, not as practiced. I have spaghetti limbs and wobbly knees. You say I’m a fast learner but something tells me you're humoring my fumbles, my awkward hands, and hesitant tongue. You maneuver your frozen hands under my Hello Kitty graphic tee. My newly awakened ******* are firm yet flexible like buds before a blossom. Be gentle, the buds are fragile. You fiddle with my zipper and reach into my daisy print ******* These petals are not yet ready to be plucked. Not ready to be stolen and scattered in a game of “she loves me, she loves me not” But I cannot seem to release the one word that could save me. I am quite literally petrified, suspended in this moment like one of those prehistoric dragonflies in amber. My brain has called a moratorium on movement. It waits for a moment of safety for my wings to start beating again. You will smoke me like one of your cigarettes. Twisting me in your yellow fingers. Taking drags of my innocence. Until I am used and smooshed into the sidewalk. I will not realize this until later. Because I am somehow addicted to your type of nicotine. Tears become crystallized in their ducts. One touch could shatter me. I plaster a smile on my face, but even concrete crumbles. My face shakes. My mask falls. The facade you wanted to **** disappears. I am more vulnerable than I ever have been
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