Comments Posted By Robyn

Displaying 181 To 210 Of 320 Comments



» Posted By Robyn On 08.16.2011 @ 2:05 pm


nights spend playing candyland, when it became too cold (too dark too soon) for the playround; candlesticks on the ground, a box of cards and some lighters for after-dinner cigars, these things that you said might thread the family together, now, in the trunk of a car on loan, you’re eating at someone else’s kitchen table from now on.

» Posted By robyn On 08.15.2011 @ 12:43 pm


moving forward.
so noticeably
as you stand, backside to the lakeside,
eyes closed like a sleepwalker
or some mariners’ dream:
comfort comes erratic to you these days.

» Posted By robyn On 08.13.2011 @ 2:14 pm


that day you spent all your hours outside (unbreakingly) building a brick wall. taller than it needed to be. blisters on your shoulders, we all thought you’d pass out from thirst, there was no stopping you. some subtle sway in the way you rocked your hips afterwards, confused on how to stand still, looking at this thing you had just done, and finally
out of materials, just like waking up from some regret (and all we could do
was watch you from the kitchen.)

» Posted By robyn On 08.08.2011 @ 1:56 pm


rolling hills

» Posted By Robyn On 08.07.2011 @ 6:47 pm


she eases into her worry, slowly; a pile of cloth on the floor that she steps into, pulls up over her body, as if it were an evening dress;

» Posted By robyn On 07.31.2011 @ 4:07 pm


volleyballs in a tennis court, strewn like spit cherry stems, halfway inflated and halfway molding into the ground, green like spring;

» Posted By robyn On 07.28.2011 @ 5:52 pm


I stood there and gazed around. The bright lights, the thick hazy smoke. It was amazing. I looked up to the stage and bega to scream the lyrics out. My all time favourite mometn. With the band I love.

» Posted By Robyn On 07.28.2011 @ 8:12 am


writer’s guilt:
ticket in the pocket
sewn into her dress,
an afterthought–
(at the store,
she had bought too much fabric)
absentminded fingers
restlessly picking at the ink
as if to scrap off
7.15 to amsterdam
so when she cannot find the station
there is nothing to mourn.

» Posted By robyn On 07.22.2011 @ 5:59 pm

The word ticket reminds me of a train. A train ticket can be a lot. It can be the start of a new life for you. The get away train. Yes, i’ll take one train ticket please.

» Posted By Robyn On 07.22.2011 @ 5:41 pm


honey in the cupboard, crystallised.

» Posted By robyn On 07.21.2011 @ 5:58 pm


men asking for a new direction, on their way to the highway. climbing up a country road, the kind meant for horses. out of gas and far from it; everything is so distorted through this heat.
at least, simple happiness.

» Posted By robyn On 07.18.2011 @ 7:25 pm


hypothermia. at least, I know, beside me, my daughter, bathed in warm blood, inside; and I take comfort in the excess (that flows to her cheeks and then recedes, to let me know, for a minute, that she is, she will always have been, alive, in this moment, now, here, where I want only to keep my own blood warm, as maybe a parting gift to her)
somewhere in the mountains.

» Posted By robyn On 07.17.2011 @ 8:25 pm


in bloom. she crosses her legs at the knees, not the ankles, lets her grandmother see, and smiles.

» Posted By robyn On 07.13.2011 @ 6:17 pm


It covers, rampant. Destruction is all you see, the wake in all its path. Darkness swirling, cast shadows all around. It covers.

» Posted By Robyn On 07.13.2011 @ 7:00 am

blooming like flowerbuds all along your spine, psoriasis.

» Posted By robyn On 07.12.2011 @ 2:14 pm


apples. right there on the bathroom sink. so plump. so out of place.

(the moment i stopped trusting you.)

» Posted By robyn On 07.11.2011 @ 3:53 pm


you say goodmorning like something stolen; pass it to me like a note under the table, so quiet

» Posted By robyn On 07.05.2011 @ 10:15 am


I know. I know that some things are hard, and photos are never easy to take, especially when your own eyesight is blurred like stained glass, the sclera of your eyes molded after stained glass from too many light-night easy-light cigarettes. I know that it is harder still to take a photo of your family, your son and his wife and the new dog from christmas all standing in the front of the fireplace, perfectly posed and nervous, when your hands are shaking from what your doctors call “normal aging process,” and you can stop it sometimes, with the right medications, but you still can’t stop the earthquake inside of the camera lens. I know that some things are hard

» Posted By robyn On 07.02.2011 @ 12:02 pm


honesty is the feeling you get when raw emotion takes the place of false words

» Posted By Robyn On 06.30.2011 @ 2:13 pm


I always have a crush. Right now I think he’s the love of my life. Actually, he is. I am in love with someone for the first time and I couldn’t be happier. Never settle ladies!

» Posted By Robyn On 06.28.2011 @ 9:38 pm


she slipped under the fence, all casual-like, so quick I couldn’t argue; tilted her head back, exaggeratedly, and threw a wink over her shoulder.

» Posted By robyn On 06.26.2011 @ 8:11 pm


Every word she spoke blistered on his skin, on the edge of his thumb and the sole of his heel, until, finally, he burst into the sun–

» Posted By robyn On 06.22.2011 @ 6:24 pm

This moment could last forever. The look in his eyes. Staring intensely. Into my soul. It sent shivers down my spine as I stared back. The stare lasted awhile, before he his friends, ignoring me, once more.

» Posted By Robyn On 06.22.2011 @ 2:24 pm


relax, little girl, your body is not a cell–
just dance.

» Posted By robyn On 06.21.2011 @ 5:52 pm

she said (said this in the nursing home lobby, sitting on a stool, too proud for back support, and looking at a still painting of what was meant to be a moving waterfall) she said
she could feel every cell in her body deteriorating
she said, cells, the funny thing about them, is they have a set time to die, they know it from the start, and when they are done, they are simply done (a clumsy reiteration of what she had heard last night on the TV of her neighbor’s apartment, sending through to her a voice in the walls that she could not stop from coming through, like the voice of a most sinister god)
she said, she had lain there, terrified of moving, every second, her lungs expanding, diaphragm contracting, heart dancing, there were red blood cells, but worse than that, she said, were the new cells meant to make the keratin of the nails, she could feel it sliding through her nailbeds
and she said
it was then, truly, that she needed to die, and despite the cynics, we had grown out of our cells, we could no longer self-detonate–
there was a calm finally creeping into her body.

» Posted By robyn On 06.21.2011 @ 5:49 pm

like waking up from a dream you do not known, looking for the first time out of a jailhouse window, feeling acutely astounded by the view, tripping on leftover cardboard that covered the gutters on some homelessman’s unhappy whims, you were, for the first time–
at peace.

» Posted By robyn On 06.21.2011 @ 5:39 pm


she slept with the TV on that night, and the radio, and the bedside lamp–windows wide open and the front door unlocked, the handle on the faucet tilted upwards, to make for a constant dripping–she only wanted to hear, from any noise, a prediction that everything might, somehow, be okay.

» Posted By robyn On 06.20.2011 @ 11:02 pm

To predict you must b able to think of an outcome. To make it right you must be correct. But if you guess, you may predict correctly

» Posted By Robyn On 06.20.2011 @ 1:56 pm


“I think…I might be missing you.”
but I didn’t hear her; she held on to things far too long; stopped on the street to talk to me, but I kept walking by, guilty that she kept me in the present tense, even for so long after–

» Posted By robyn On 06.19.2011 @ 4:16 pm

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