A Collection of Untitled

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Poetic Dreamers
A collection of untitled poems from high school and college.

Submitted: August 01, 2019

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Submitted: August 01, 2019



A collection of Untitled

Power. Power. Power.
Throbbing through my leads.
Thumping, pumping moving
My body shining.

Circuits. Circuits. Circuits.
Sparking my digital mind.
Thinking, shaping, guiding
My every motion.

I am dues ex machina!
But I as one question:
Why must androids dream
Of electric sheep?


A church bell knelled.
A flash in the night,
And then came the rain
Softly down upon the steel.
Ping. Ping. Ping. All over
For the grass is gone,
For the earth is gone,
For the trees are gone;
For man covered the land
In stainless steel and concrete,
To make a more natural setting.


I see the golden wheat
In the glistening lace of the
Spider’s early morning dress that
She has spun to greet the sun.


Life; Death
Miracle; Tragedy
Both depending upon
The other.  A snake
Chasing its tail in
Endless circles,
Of which we are
But one turning,
To be replaced
At it’s ending.
Advice:  Do not look
To Death in despair,
But to Life in joy.


Handle the grief, deafly.
Feel the pain, blindly.
No lines of hope,
Only blank despair.


How is a detective looking for the facts,
Why is a four-year old hiding a broken glass.


I am hawk soaring, floating in currents
of imagination.
I am hawk turning gracefully, beautifully
upon words.
I am hawk, diving, quick, sharp striking
I am hawk mastering, preying upon the world
with open mind.
I am hawk landing, settling upon the precipice
of reality
to become


I hide in a cloud.

Shivering, sniveling, wet and cold.
Will I come out and be bold?
Holding, holding – reach nor give.
Will I ever know what it is to live?

I hide in a storm.

Pounding, raging, big and black.
Will I find the hope that I lack?
Coming, going – leave nor go.
Will I ever become part of the show?

I stand naked.

Open, exposing and now aware.
Will I be able to share?
Searching, searching – hide nor run.
Will I ever find myself before it’s done?


The myth of reality is its ever the same.

Don’t hold back from the life around you,
What you really need to do is reach.
Reach out to the dynamics of the sun,
Of the stars and the people around you.

Don’t be afraid of the changes inside,
What you really need to do is reach.
Reach into the dynamics of your soul,
Of your heart and of yourself inside.

Don’t try to define or control anything,
What you really need to is live.
Live beyond the lines and boxes of logic,
Of society and of your own making.

The reality of myth is its always yours.

© Copyright 2019 robert a. walker. All rights reserved.

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