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I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 03, 2014, 02:27:53 PM
by Mark Edgemon
The poem below has a dimensional depth to it, a visual imagery that is allegorical of a much deeper spiritual meaning and truth. He paints a picture, but no one image he conjours is random or for visualization alone. They all have significants to the message of the poem. I find this true with most of Robin's poetry, having read at least 500 of his poems to date. He is a true master poet!


I Was There
By Robin B. Lipinski

Battle of ground, covered bare with the flow of corruption
They came to take what was, they came to take it all

Away in distant lands, different worlds, sat a mother wondering, a father remembering

Yesterday was a moment for growing, a forest tall,
healthy, and vibrant,
surrounded by emerald sea filled with singing mermaids,
sirens riding, whales toll the bell,
elves weaved magic, while dragons created suns.

Suns darkened by stain of disbelief,
folded flowers drained of warmth.
Imps imprisoned of ground,
battle of ground, covered bare with the flow of corruption.

Armor torn asunder,
sword buried deep,
eyes piercing eternity while the whiteness of belief replaced death...
Winged horse Pegasus taking freedom again towards the North Star.
I know
I was there.

The end of magic, of logic, of mankind's madness: 'they' came to take it all away.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 04, 2014, 08:56:19 AM
by EddieSullivan
I don't claim superior knowledge of poetry but I know what I like. I like this!

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 04, 2014, 05:57:18 PM
by Wormtongue
Mark Edgemon wrote:They all have significants to the message of the poem.

I think you mean "significance."

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 04, 2014, 09:09:41 PM
by Mark Edgemon
Wormtongue wrote:
Mark Edgemon wrote:They all have significants to the message of the poem.

I think you mean "significance."

What, don't you like my new made up word? I grew so tired of the old one. Image

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 07, 2014, 02:18:02 AM
by Lipinski
Thanks for the kind comments, the spelling lesson, and the inspiration.

A wind most foul breathed force upon the drunken fool
Staggering back and forward; a soiled trail
replete with yellow teeth and urine
and dare he, a smile?

Days became years became a life for this man
Lost family and familiar
Thin of soul, fat in spirit
floundering down this dark path.

Shifting winds of indecision brought my travel into his,
I, with trouble
he, with his damned smile...

"Can ye spare a coin, my good (burp) fellow?"

No, I have no means with definitely no desire, with a sneer I continued on my way
Those days, lost, I sober he drunk both in trouble.

They found me hanging from a noose down by the creek, note of debt inside my breast pocket, sneer still etched on my face
They found him frozen in the snow, soiled clothes, foul smell rising and that damned smile still upon his face.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 07, 2014, 03:17:17 AM
by Mark Edgemon
This is a three dimensional painting and one of the greats.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 19, 2014, 08:43:37 AM
by rick tornello
depressing to the nth degree, co-joined with a john the baptist type proclaiming a coming doom.

and and and,

maybe we just represent the universe, the cold uncaring universe born of a singularity, maybe an infinity of expansions and compressions, the same mass and energy, again and again, violent. And we quark based matter are a representation of that nature. Nothing more nothing less

we can articulate in this fashion, aware of the opposites that make this life, this conundrum.

Eighty cycles or so around the star, big deal.

All twisted about
little birds chirping
very funny
unto the gods we swear

the best i can think of

treat others as you would them of you.

Then go home make love, have a drink
and do it again.

You only have 80 revolutions, you ain't all that important.


Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 21, 2014, 11:37:47 PM
by Lipinski
enjoyed rick, i like the 'and, and, and,' and the inspiration.

Coming Doom

'Boom, Boom, Boom...'
Rats escaping the sinking ship
Props of the screw smashing the course mankind has set.

'Boom, Boom, Boom...'
Israel picks up the tick of war
Syria joins the dance
While the Blood Moon April 15th bears the thin-lipped smile of fate.

'Boom, Boom, Boom...'
Debauchery and play in the civilized world
Dancing to the beat of self and hate
hiding behind a wide-open smile,
of deceit.

'Boom, Boom, Boom...'
a dead baby plays with an imaginary rattle
abortion; law of the land.

'Boom, Boom, Boom...'
The hand of death rides his black horse
Stereo speakers behind the saddle
as even Death likes heavy bass
in his rap music of finality while reaping
those doomed in the past, present, leaving the reverberations for the future
and still,
there are those who don't believe who laugh.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 22, 2014, 12:48:32 AM
by Mark Edgemon
Waiting Out the Clock
By Mark Edgemon

The dead do not believe,
They only know death.
Truth hurts their eyes,
Piercing light, burns their vision.

The dead do not listen,
To anything outside of their own thoughts;
They are a world unto themselves;
Adept at being inept;
Hopelessness has become their mourning tea.

The dead knows nothing,
Yet, are brilliant to their thinking;
The mocking bird lulls them to sleep.
With life in full motion,
The dead are not that important.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 22, 2014, 03:31:37 AM
by rick tornello
Dead Heading
by Richard Tornello 2007 in the Aphelion Archives

Dead Heading to the terminals.
GPS the hidden controller.
They all leave like clock work.

Picks the load and picks the road.
Organized at the highest levels.
Leeway given for their speed;
Invisible to the badge.

They have deadlines to meet.
The system’s huge fleet.
Hammer down, pedal to the metal.

Polished Chromium Pipes.
Sweet the sound, the pitch, the timbre.
Exhaust tuned, running true
matched to engine and the fuel.
Blue smoke, faintly, hued.
Running hard
Like there is no tomorrow.

GPS, he knows where they are.
GPS, he knows when they will get
To the point.

The exhaust plume,
the smell,
Deep from the earth,
Up from the wells.
Burning fire,
compression ignition.
Metal contained hell.

GPS we know where they are.
GPS we know when they
Reach that point.

Sekhmet, Perses, Shiva and Kali
Senior drivers in the union.
Of all?
Of all remember the old days
And today?
They see, and saw it coming.

Shiva and Kali over the radio
Internet connects the rest.
Trucks on the road.
Full up loads.

To the ports load one more
The parts fit together.
Never more.

Gabriel Trucking rules the road.
Gabriel sings to the country tune.
Waiting for the call and add new fuel.

Feeds the fire deep below.
The exhaust note changes.
The pitch is shrill.
An increase in power and never more.

Destruction in the wakes.
the tune they make.
Shiva, Sekhmet, Kali, Perses
Nod in unison
As Gabriel emails all.

Fuel systems change over
The vehicles’ scream the change
Exhaust pitch harmonics
Road beneath the big wheels vanish.

It’s End of the world
As we know it.
As Gabriel calls the tune.
GPS, God’s Planned System.
© 2007 Richard Tornello

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 22, 2014, 03:46:19 AM
by rick tornello
A Temporary Bargain
by Richard Tornello
in Aphelion Archives

In the dark, scurry little pads,
quick, not to be stepped upon.
Holding fast,
her eyes made for the dark,
she rules.
Mine? I might as well be blind.
Adjusts to movement and only
So little light, little scene.
As she follows-stalks
I hear her behind me
I move, she holds.
I moved again and stopped.
Holding for her prey, she can wait.
to me she asks-states “are you not afraid?”
She looks w/weapons, tools of death, sheathed.
Others, waiting for her orders, ignored
she sniffs for the tell-tale smell?
She observes and asks again,
“Are you not afraid? Most folks when they are about to die,
have not a clue, just fear, and you?”
I, my fear hidden, well, almost resting
my mind in an easier fashion.
I answer, “fear yes, with acceptance too
reality, we are all borne to die. Does that answer
your question?”

She observes, I see a smile?
a sneer? A??
I can’t tell in this light, her black masked
face hiding her, identity, hiding face.

I think to myself, what she didn’t ask is what I fear,
most is pain. I’m not good
and what will?
my brain
as the energy ceases to maintain
function and flow?
She looks at me again, “Let him go. Next
Time, just,
when you will
never know, go
live like the rest,
fear, immobilized,
until it’s too
late to ask.”
She removes herself
her minions, and the stench of death
burning flesh about them ride off
victims in tow, upon their crosses
row and row, the river Styx.
Watching the lucky ones
They know their fate and I?
Await, among the not-yet-
dead, knowing
face to face I stared, and bargain made:
the cost;
the time to ponder, watch and wait.
the fear behind the not dead
eyes, the fear of life, fear of death,
the state of fear, a law, falsely controlled.

I awake, shivering in a hot sweat
The morning radio/news,
more obits from paid mouths flow,
the mourning radio as news.
© 2011 Richard Tornello

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: March 31, 2014, 10:38:21 PM
by Lipinski
I do love the creativity and inspiration.


Who owns what when nobody knows how
and why?
Why is it yours or mine when mine is yours, or,
I suppose it's been tried before as the law of probability states:
'A room full of monkeys sitting at a typewriter could write Shakespeare...'
William would die again if this happened by some screaming primates
and there goes another copyright.

We all came into a world with nothing but a cord and blood and a cry.
We all will leave with nothing; maybe at most a gurgle or gasp, and what do we leave behind?
Nothing, nothing, nothing,
as those damned monkeys sitting in front of a typewriter will steal my copyright.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: April 01, 2014, 08:22:50 AM
by rick tornello
regarding copyright


By, Richard Tornello © 2007/revised 2013
The Village Idiot Press

If by chance I dump my jism
For your research, for your vision.
Then by law clearly stated:
My DNA ,
You own
None rebated.

My DNA is yours to play,
To sequence in any recombinant way.
You own the legal rights far to cum.
No future recourse have I,
No none.

But one question still vexes me,
About this life and pro cre-a-tiv-i- ty.
Should I decide to procreate?
Or even think of masturbate
Have I infringed on your copyright?

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: April 01, 2014, 11:19:29 AM
by Lipinski
Aroused the inspiration again Richard, tickled the humor bone, and so stroking the words into life.


Sinking deep this thought
Yawning chasm
From within it formulated; mixture come what be

From decision to action
Action to reaction
Rising to the top like cream
Butter churned and spread

Open wide this bent over frustration
Buckled at the knee
Sucking on remnants of meaty bones sucked dry...

Left now with hollow thoughts of satisfaction
Recharging what must be said
Wondering now if words impregnated
Or an infertile mind?

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: April 01, 2014, 10:39:32 PM
by Mark Edgemon
The Master Debater
By Mark Edgemon

He thinks he knows what he is doing,
backward talking marking poetic thunder,
confusion spews, coating the ground beneath his wit
and all other wasted expulsions that rhyme.

"Include me, sing my praises,"
his imagination conjures women who do,
making his own bed that he now 'lies' in,
hoping spectators will not know the difference.

He ejaculates the wittiest of witticisms
for the imaginary drunks at his favorite bar,
the applause, the applause, can you spare some wisdom?
"No," he says grimacing, "I don't know what that is."

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: April 02, 2014, 11:42:35 PM
by Lipinski
Very enjoyable release there Mark and inspirational.
Sticky Mess

"Cleanup on aisle five!"
A joke of sorts for sure but how many moments of our lives have we screwed up needing more than tissue to clean up?

We all make a mess to be sure:
Surreal if it were not all so real.

The in and outs of life have one going back and forth
through laughter the tears are very real and sting
wiping the corner of the eyes with tissue learning the coolness of life truly burns.

A scraped knee
A rubbed elbow
A burnt finger
A need.

What life is all about is a very simple mess, one where it all falls apart waiting to be put back together
One where we all stumble but we all heal.
Life: One sticky mess where all learn and fail.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: April 03, 2014, 12:16:14 AM
by Mark Edgemon
Lipinski wrote:Very enjoyable release there Mark and inspirational.

Yeah, well I waz continuing the puns and metaphor, nothing more [quote the raven]...a Poe reference.

Re: I Was There by Robin B. Lipinski

PostPosted: April 03, 2014, 12:46:52 AM
by Lipinski
I do enjoy your expansion in the poetry realm Mark, you also appear to be enjoying the endless possibilities. As for Poe, if he were alive today and could experience the freedoms and access to what was once forbidden...his poetry written today would make his old 'stuff' seem primitive (all in my opinion of course)

Poor Old Poe

Ergo the moment she cast her scorn upon my lips
Puckered stallion prancing at the chance
Sporting ego lost upon littered street of lost trials
now looking high this winged curse.

She with her painted haste
I with my folded cards
Table laden silver and plate; feast not the poor.
Legs winding down this seduction
a curse.

left to empty seat, warmth fading as her shadow lost the sun.

Lost this chafe of being
Thoughts charred, burnt now asunder
This house lost with gabled rust, gilded paint faded, cracked path of well worn trail