I've created a new genre.
Different strokes for different folks.
Colour painted memories,
Written on beautiful flowers
That blossom when only,
Visionary eyes can see.

I've created my own dusk to dawn.
Lost within time itself.
I wake up to the blessing of the morn.
I’m faded by beauty.
Counted by numerous
Living things.

I only can tell that my reality is real,
When your viewing from a distance,
Where you can’t be seen.
I’m distorted by the ambiance,
Because I can feel you’re there.
I’m lost;
Stuck to pins.
My mind’s unclear.

I’ve opened up to my dark soul,
To embrace your loving heart,
I can’t tell the traces,
Of a- once trampled on- broken heart.
So I will love you in defeat,
Until my eyes turn red.
Because I’ve counted many characters,
But your blood isn't theirs.

So I've opened up to beauty,
I lived with the dark,
Only to open up to someone,
That could take away my heart.

© Robyn G Neymour

Inconceivable thoughts of an inhumane mind,
Lock itself away inside the master "Pandora's Love".
The tragedy that seeks refuge in time of knowledge,
Never reaches to the point of understanding.
The challenge of the Rubik’s Cube,
Seek for the capacity of an enormous IQ.
But isn’t it just
Isn’t it just,
A cube with colors.
The controversy of a married man;
The oxymoron of his tale.
Interesting is it not,
After Eve bit the apple,
Adam put her up for sale.
Its karaoke time,
Yeah,
Why do we sing other people’s songs,
And believing what they say,
When we have our own birth of songs in us,
We speak it every day.
Thoughts that challenge the mind most of us never say.


© Robyn G Neymour

Count me to the rivers that cry in the moon lit nights,
That drowns in the solace of midnights terror.

Crave like the ravens that are driven by hunger,
Seek to take away my essentials that enables me to live.

Cry hunger to my wounded soul,
That is cursed by the terrors of thorny clouds.

Capture my thoughts by scornful bushes,
Drenched in anger, in rage.

Cast the spell of love,
To defeat me.

So that I may die,
In evanesce.

© Robyn G Neymour

Summer days won’t be summer anymore.
No more time for play.
Occasionally drink;
No,
Nothing from the lips,
The heart will not say.
Entitled thoughts,
Only a fool with think,
In those day.
But you will be dwelling in the past,
Every summer day.
There will be no now,
For tomorrows.
Not even a candle lit sight,.
Romantic evenings bring darkness,
And over cast skies,
Not even light,
Summer days are now darkened,
But yet shows simplicity,
The affair is over,
Candle lit gravity.

© Robyn G Neymour

I’ll fly away with you,
Into the evening sun,
Which beauty will be a memory of tomorrow.

Into the sky as high as we can go,
I’ll love you forever,
The passion of my wings will show.

Beautiful colors,
Of your feather,
Trickle down the inner web of your wings.

Freely you fly,
Into the depths of the setting sun,
Where I cannot follow.

I look out my windowpane,
Only to bring pain to my soul,
To see you fly away and diminish my heart.

Faintingly I hear your song,
As you emerge your body,
Into the setting sun.

Then there you are,
The painting on the wall bitter sweet,
Flaws and all.

© Robyn G Neymour

Me, myself never was good at picking a title,
For any poem or even the skit that I wrote.
I’d often struggle to entertain my readers,
By capturing their intriguing eyes with a title.

Though I thought I was unfortunate,
I thought of someone that would be,
In a worst case scenario.
This person is “I”.

Bitter sweet essence,
Of an unforgivable life.
“I” would often forget,
Its present and past within seconds.

“I” would constantly come in contact with “Remember”,
But often forget his friend “When”.
Life’s precautious boundaries,
Would never let “I” choose the course.

“I” would only have options life gave.
Instead “I” would only live to groan,
To become the victim of another circumstance,
Because “Remember” left “I” after  completely forgetting “When”.

Sorrow passive to the soul,
“I” would speak about a unforgettable title,
That would only whisk away,
Me, and myself.


© Robyn G Neymour

The tempted touch of a beautiful red rose,
Caressing across your skin
At the midnight hour,
Only to remember the kiss,
Takes your mind eons away,
From the present gravity.

You miss the kind gentle touch of the sun,
Stroking against your face,
As you bathe in its warm delight.
The stars begin to come out,
As the sun sets in the western sky,
And become one with the end of the ocean.

Your telephone rings and you leap for joy,
It’s just another caller on the line,
Not the ghost you’re looking for,
You become completely unsatisfied.
You drop back in a daze as you reminisce,
On what was, or was it..

The mild breeze calms your soul,
As your mind begins to run wild,
Searching for those eyes,
In the twilit sky,
That soothes you when you’re angry,
Or lose yourself In the peace that it brings.

You cast away your soul,
Into the imaginative darkness great abyss,
As you linger,
Searching for the thing  you can’t put your finger,
But the substance is tangible,
Making you feel an infinite source of defeat.

Then it’s there,
The thing you’re searching, for,
Staring you in your face,
You want to reach for it,
But the weight you carried,
Burned your feet but didn't deny your passion.

You finally compose yourself,
You reach out for it,
Then it disappears.
You laugh and sadness fills your soul,
For the joy that your thoughts brought,
Happiness reaches for your heart.

Tears begin to trickle your cheek,
And reaches out for your smile.
For the thing that you were missing once was,
The thing that you hold now exists,
Life is in front of you,
So hold the future and him you won’t miss.

© Robyn Neymour

Green, Brown, Red, Blue and Clear,
Are the colors of their tears.

Earth cries.
The Sky Sings,
The heart Swallows,
Air the wind brings.

Contaminated silence,
That creates joyful pain.
Disguises itself into dusty shadows,
Which forms cannot be contained.

Innocent pink lips,
Yellow enchanted bruises,
Taste the beautiful innocence,
Of sparkling black scars.

So break the gold,
Of my shattered heart.
So that I may entice you,
With my tears.

Take me away,
And let me drain,
Beautiful raindrops,
That expresses my fear.

Rainbow delight,
Is what you would see,
If you delight your face,
In the inner me.

I am the enemy.
At least that is what you said.
But you feel and taste to,
The color of tears.

© Robyn G Neymour

A storm will travel through the night,
Through the day and its envious light.
Casting precious moments,
On a loved one’s soul,
Either lost or stories that will unfold.
Treasure peeks the storms eye,
Drifting through its trouble cry.
Sun light potentially darkening its day,
Mother nature worry,
For a different way.
Destruction at the tip of its fingers,
Moving through troubled winds,
Exhausting all its limits,
The storm decides to spin.
What seems like,
An everlasting storm in limbo,
Is just a walk across the street,
To another friend.

©

Robyn G. Neymour

The air humid
As a gust
Of wind
Rides gently across the pores of my face.

The dust that
I hid in
My palm
Gently swam away in the melody that flowed with the wind.

Enriched with
Delightful
Elegance
I assume that the dust will never return to hurt my eyes again.

It made
My palms
Very sweaty
But kept them warm in time of need.


(Part 2)


You’d come with your inconspicuous ways,
That only I would notice because I was always with you.
Translation you’re a direct arrow to my blind heart that really never had eyes.

You tortured the aura of my complete being,
That never understood my own imagination that ran wild.
Therefore I suffered; yes I suffered because my soul now felt divided and condemned.

At the touch of a painful sharp cotton that comprise my thoughts,
I uttered the very words I thought; I thought I could never say to you leave get out
I don’t want to ever see you again in my entire life don’t leave a sound here when you go out that door

Before you left you turned around,
Surely without a sound you looked into my eyes,
And in that moment I wanted you to come back to return as my lover again.

© Robyn G Neymour

Past possessions,
Of an altered ego,
Display themselves gently,
On the highest roof top of the square,
Swaying themselves gently with the wind.

Whispered thoughts,
Of their inanimate minds,
Creep into the creativity,
Of the world’s implemented desires,
Capturing and poisoning the human mind.

To look is without faith,
In breach of a contract,
That is perfectly indefinite,
To the things that we can’t reach,
In the end they are perfectly intangible.

Like love,
To whom the soul cries.
Though we can’t see,
Emotions we imply,
We feel.

Tears of jubilance,
Tears of war,
Tears of courtesy,
Tears of  envy,
Tears of more.

To take the time,
To tell the tale,
Tells thee,
That tears travail,
Today.

© Robyn G Neymour