Comments Posted By Robyn

Displaying 61 To 90 Of 320 Comments

director

but if i could make you homesick
and bring you back home to me
safe
i would
(there are worse things)

» Posted By robyn On 03.12.2013 @ 4:41 pm

a modern haiku for two lovers, wherein one of them is absent and syllables are left uncounted:

denver to las vegas.
14 hours highway; no stopover for a motel.
one of us sleeps sitting up.

» Posted By robyn On 03.12.2013 @ 4:28 pm

withered

and you dreamt.
something sweet and warm, the corner of your lip tugged upward, and i held your hand
and you were loved
in complete comfort, the fulfilled purpose of the universe

» Posted By robyn On 03.10.2013 @ 3:48 pm

returned

two weeks in love.
different cities, and he asks me, do i pay enough attention to you
and he is brave enough to ask
but i am not brave enough to answer
(no, listen to me, i’m missing you, i’m sad from missing you)
11.11, and he says, i do not know what to wish for
and i do not know what to tell him
(please wish for my relief)
but i don’t mind
i have been more lost than this (and still i will follow you, and still i will follow you)

» Posted By robyn On 03.08.2013 @ 9:04 am

flames

and we assume the natural position of our intimacy.
(it has always been a closer one, sometimes i wish we could’ve been park bench lovers)
two heads, one pillow, we rest one ribcage on the mattress and we point the other towards the sky, this is how we lay on our sides, like it were a prayer to both the soil and the stars —

» Posted By robyn On 03.05.2013 @ 8:39 pm

startled

The door popped open suddenly. She looked up, startled.
“Where did you come from?” she asked the visitor.
“I came back for you.”
“That’s not what I asked,” she replied.
“No, but it’s what you wanted to hear. Just accept it, I came back for you and only you.”

» Posted By Robyn On 02.25.2013 @ 9:43 pm

embellish

i love you.
but it’s not about you
it’s about me.
I’m the one loving you.
it’s not the kind of thing you can stop, see.
informing you is just a courtesy, i thought maybe you wouldn’t mind knowing
(don’t tell on me and i won’t tell you the dirty parts)

» Posted By robyn On 02.24.2013 @ 8:04 pm

cave

the belief in more than one god, and we sit in the coffeehouse debating Plato’s cave and the context of humanity (that he should be less mortal than us, for his name has endured longer than ours — and that this, also, is a poor way to measure a man incapable of introducing himself)
my favorite question for you: why were you born premature?
and here i am presupposing that we choose when we are born, and here you overlook this fallacy, and recite me your favorite answer, ‘i am still deciding why.’
we sip.

» Posted By robyn On 02.23.2013 @ 9:11 pm

the belief in more than one god, and we sit in the coffeehouse debating Plato’s cave and the context of humanity (that he should be less mortal than us, for his name has endured longer than ours — and that this, also, is a poor way to measure a man incapable of introducing himself)
my favorite question for you: why were you born premature?
and here i am presupposing that we choose when we are born, and here you overlook this fallacy, and recite me your favorite answer, ‘i am still deciding why.’

» Posted By robyn On 02.23.2013 @ 9:09 pm

flailing

an open love letter to my last love begins with
Hello
like we have not met, let us introduce, now is an appropriate time for hellos and the such
and this is the reason i cannot send it out
(still, i watch the price of stamps closely, waiting for a time when it might spontaneously tempt me in)

» Posted By robyn On 02.18.2013 @ 9:22 pm

distrust,
and you are imaginary, fantasy, my dreams have been stranger in these new mornings
(your bedside has become mine, like lovers in a hospital waiting for the other to die, waking up is just a continuation, i am unused to this new reality)

» Posted By robyn On 02.18.2013 @ 8:55 pm

fatigue

calmer, lighter:
offering you to walk with me.
sitting at the bottom of the steps, sitting at the end of the pier, i can imagine you anywhere, i did not realize i was staring until i closed my eyes (and still could see ankle giving way to heel, you are beautiful, you know)
cross-legged on the floor, cards in our hands, sitting in the car outside your door, flowers in the passenger seat,
standing in front of you now,
asking will you come with me,
these things you are saying yes to (are so many more moments than a walk, come, take my hand and we can start here)

» Posted By robyn On 02.16.2013 @ 5:50 pm

salesman

The salesman knocked on the pale cream door, and wiped his hands on his pants. He rehearsed his lines under his breath as he waited for someone to answer. The door creaked open, revealing a young boy with his mother. “Yes?”

» Posted By Robyn On 02.07.2013 @ 8:05 pm

The salesman sat down in his chair, picked up his glasses and placed them gingerly on his nose. He heaved a great sigh. After a few minutes of staring at the only photograph on his desk, he opened the top drawer and rifled through the contents to pull out an ancient looking flip phone.

» Posted By Robyn On 02.07.2013 @ 7:51 pm

features

and i wonder what happens to you:
talking about reincarnation, transmigration, the eastern philosophy is a novelty in this small town, you say, there is no injustice in the world
pause
look down, onto your hands, a papercut and a bruise
this one is for stepping on an ant, you say, fingering the damage
and i am sad.

» Posted By robyn On 01.31.2013 @ 4:37 pm

‘you were aimed from birth’,
william stafford.
and you were, and so was i, and those tigers out in the savannah, hot and hungry and leaning over their kill like a submission to their greed for life (although i am greedy too, and moreso)
but only one of us is grateful, and it is the tiger
and i wish i could be the kill, proud and in happiness that my life now serves more than my-self, but the truth is, if i should ever meet such an honest beast, it will be from the other side of an iron cage, there will be children, there will be teachers speaking loud words, and she will hold me in contempt (knowing, maybe from my mannerisms or glaring curiosity, that i am weak, and she is strong, and I am the one who could not survive out in the high degrees of a strange grassland where I must balance someone else’s blood with my own, and my children)

» Posted By robyn On 01.31.2013 @ 12:22 pm

‘you were aimed from birth’,
william stafford.
and you were, and so was i, and those tigers out in the savannah, hot and hungry and leaning over their kill like a submission to their greed for life (although i am greedy too, and moreso)
but only one of us is grateful, and it is the tiger
and i wish i could be the kill, proud and in happiness that my life now serves more than my-self, but the truth is, if i should ever meet such an honest beast, it will be from the other side of an iron cage, there will be children, there will be teachers speaking loud words, and she will hold me in contempt (knowing, maybe from my mannerisms or glaring curiosity, that i am weak, and she is strong, and I am the one who could not survive out in high degrees of a strange grassland where I must balance someone else’s blood with my own, and my children)

» Posted By robyn On 01.31.2013 @ 12:18 pm

visit

his mother who drinks.

she is at the table in front of ours, two empty glasses and she’s begun to palm her third — rolls it against her collarbone, she is watching her husband of twenty-seven years playing trumpet on stage, he is wearing jeans that don’t fit, he still winks to her
and she raises her glass

» Posted By robyn On 01.21.2013 @ 11:02 pm

destroy

the moment it becomes existing:
i can feel him proposing, in a garden whose name he still has yet to learn —
(this moment that is still a decade in the distance, that i have suddenly stumbled upon, unwanted but overwhelmed)
and it means he loves me, this is what it feels like to be touched, this is what it feels like to be touched, for the first time i am understanding the thrill of little sister flower girls,
down on one knee in the rose garden, and laughing, the only time i have been speechless

» Posted By robyn On 01.19.2013 @ 4:23 pm

something that was not meant:
in brief passing, an exchange of Dickenson quotations, we wanted symbolism, it only signaled that we are old
(saying, ‘let’s grow old together’, always wanting, never realizing)

» Posted By robyn On 01.19.2013 @ 4:05 pm

end

and it became the only thing there was left to do
was to fall, and so we did, together, us and the ground;
grass and cement and champagne stains, my spine stretches farther than yours,
if we could make each other happy, we would (and i want you to say the same,
without questioning your intent,
but i’ll slip my hand into yours as we sleep and refrain myself from making promises to you)

» Posted By robyn On 01.13.2013 @ 3:27 pm

must

knowing you will leave at the end of the lease;
and there is nothing i can do to make you stay, but why would i want to trick you anyway — if you are young then you must be young still, and if you are old then i can also understand —
we used to be closer than this, closer than this even when we’d still yet to meet, eager shadows of anticipation in the forefront of our mind, it’s always different like that, at the beginning

» Posted By robyn On 01.07.2013 @ 8:34 pm

lord

‘what time will you be home,’ and it’s a prayer for you to come back to me,
‘late,’ and you are sure that you are gone, but i’ll ignore your intent if you can remember mine, i won’t fight where you go so long as you return, at the long end of things, you’re treating it like the end of days and i’m on my knees whispering words into folded hands, i’ve made a rosary from all the promises you’ve left me, if i’m becoming to abstract for you, if you’re still on the listening end of the phone line, i’ll say
‘be safe,’ but your wedding band is in the glove box.

» Posted By robyn On 01.04.2013 @ 5:57 pm

placed

so different in daytime
the way you choose to smile, such a slight hint at the lips, something to guess at;
‘remind me where the light is’, quoting album covers, this is how we are these days, plagiarized thoughts, the inability to speak directly anymore, what is there to be afraid of?
(always, the answer is, losing you.)

» Posted By robyn On 01.03.2013 @ 9:01 pm

I looked around as I quickly placed the candle on the table. It was dark and stormy outside and the wind made the flame shutter. I had hoped the power would have retuned by now but sadly that wasn’t the case.

» Posted By Robyn On 01.03.2013 @ 6:03 pm

barrel

things i knew before you:
what coming home late means, what leaving early means, what will become of us, three years into the future, and just beginning to meet for the first time —
finally, the patience to say i love you

» Posted By robyn On 01.01.2013 @ 1:53 pm

officers

learning not to be afraid of our silences, but still, i am anxious to talk to you;
my still tongue will show you patience, this is playing it cool, by-the-minute, until i break from eagerness to hear your words —
speaking to compel you to follow, luring out that voice, soft like sickness, there’s something terminal about you

» Posted By robyn On 12.30.2012 @ 12:05 am

sloppy writing.
that’s what we are, basking in the sun, little cliches kissing each other, lips-to-cheek, mine or yours, it doesn’t really matter, i suppose; it’s a control imbalance that compels me to lose identities, where i stop and you begin, just like paragraphs on the page bumping into one another, so casually formless, i don’t think it’s a good thing
but i’m not stopping my lines from bleeding.

» Posted By robyn On 12.29.2012 @ 9:38 pm

soil

homelost.
with a boy that says, life is suffering, if he has lived before i do not think he will live again;
i am not supposed to mourn his death, i am awaiting his instruction, how am i supposed to let you go?
but that is years ahead of this moment, where, standing in the frontroom, i am struggling to tell you what makes me nervous about foreign houses these days (it is not just that your family is in them, i promise, meeting grandparents before parents, i am comfortable if this is how we are)
maybe it is because i have just lost my future, i have given up the ships at depoe bay, i have given up heavy rains and tall trees and white picket fences, he does not think to promise these things to me, he does not think they are gone from me –
but his future is different, and the one i will follow, life is suffering, he says, but it is just what I have chosen

» Posted By robyn On 12.29.2012 @ 10:38 am

homelost.
with a boy that says, life is suffering, if he has lived before i do not think he will live again;
i am not supposed to mourn his death, i am awaiting his instruction, how am i supposed to let you go?
but that is years ahead of this moment, where, standing in the frontroom, i am struggling to tell you what makes me nervous about foreign houses these days (it is not just that your family is in them, i promise, meeting grandparents before parents, i am comfortable if this is how we are)
maybe it is because i have just lost my future, i have given up the ships at depoe bay, i have given up heavy rains and tall trees and white picket fences, he does not think to promise these things to me, he does not think they are gone from me —
but his future is different, and the one i will follow, life is suffering, he says, but it is just what have chosen

» Posted By robyn On 12.29.2012 @ 10:36 am

«« Back To Stats Page