Collection of Random Poetry by Terra Robinson (best short novels of all time TXT) 📕

Space

Run- through the sound of forever,
Accelerate only when times of gone.
Peddle- through the snow of twilight,
Glidding as the door opens dawn.

I Sleep as Sound as a Rock

I sleep as sound as a rock
Life still as the clock tick-tocks
No feeling of the wake world
Just the mental feel of swirls

These swirls go about my head
Running with colors of red
With blue, green, orange, and yellow
Making my reactions slow

I cannot become awake
It consumes me like a snake
With more never ending swirls
I sleep as wake as the world

Dreams are Nothing

Do not be ashamed, kid, for dreams are nothing.
Because they appear almost every night
And dominate your future awakening,
Do not be ashamed.
Dreams are nothing.

They have a chance for psychic abilities,
For once they come on,
What you have seen with eyes shut can appear.
Sights of love/hate, happiness/sadness, and stength/weakness,
Where every being can have a star moment.

Do not be ashamed, businessman, for dreams are nothing.
Because they promote thinking,
Creating many possibilites for change.
Do not be ashamed.
Dreams are nothing.

Little light bulbs live inside them.
For once they come on,
Ideas, thoughts, and expressions reflect throughout.
They dance with enlightement-
Where everybeing can have a star moment.

Optimist, who believes in progresion
And has a mind of heated kettle corn,
Do not be ashamed.
Dreams are nothing.

I Do What Life Had Done

I do what life had done.
I hear what life had heard.
I feel what life had felt.
I see what life had seen.
I taste what life had tasted.
I smell what life had smelled.
I am what life is not.
I am myself, what life had not.

The Sun's Eyes

When the sun finally closes her eyes,
And casts her awakening spell,
The star button will be pushed,
With a plethora of new stories to tell.

A hope for a straighter path,
From the prior nightmares and glum,
An angel might just touch your hand,
And clear skies may soon come.

Little boys may burn buildings
And little girls may grow grim,
But there will always be a shinning star
That will never have the slightest dim.

The river may have had its splashes,
And the bread may come out with full rise,
but there will always be room for more stories,
when the sun finally closes her eyes.

Reality

I wake up from the darkness.
He wakes up in the light.
Weare the same on the outside,
but curves on the right.
I listen to R&B.
He listens to rock.
Each not may fight,
but the melody they do mock.
Simple, form head to toe on me.
Shock, surprise and superior on him.
Designers may ponder,
but resist temptations to trim.
I look down from reality.
He jumps in life with joy.
Each night consider odd,
but are the same for every girl or boy.
Why do we differ so much?
We cannot certainly be friends.
More ever than friends
we could not be lovers to the end.
We do not hate,
nor do we love.
We are our own kind
but created by the same up above.
This may frusrate us
It may cause us to scream.
We may distant society
and fall with akward dreams.
We are not of fault.
We are not to pull the blame.
We are our own monsters
but destroy the atmosphere the same.
I lokked through glass of empty.
He looks through glass of full.
We are siblings,
resluting from our mother's feel of wool....

I Walk Through A Fallen City

I walk through a fallen city,
its buildings tossed from side to side
as if they here simply limbs,
scattered among the sparkling ashes.
Traffic signs, windows, cars,
all laying on top of each other
creating a grotesque lasagna
full of broken glass cheese.
Shadows of children playing,
men working, women cooking,
they are all restless as the ground they rest on.
No lights, no roads, no air,
nothing to live on , nothing to go to
but the remains of failure in the atmosphere.
I look at myself,
my half empty philosophy
for life and dark eyes
full of sympathy and fright.
I wonder,
do I walk through my fallen soul?

The Angel's Song

Someone heard an angel singing,
it was coming South,
What an odd place for an angel
Still spitting music from her mouth.

It grew louder and louder
load as a whale's call, for a while.
It started to shake the earth,
It's sound could be heard for miles.

Everyone went this way and that
Earth spinned twice as fast
Hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes,
How long will this invasion last?

"The worls is ending!" screamed someone.
"Say your last prayer before we all die!"
So everyone held each other's hand,
heads tilted toward the sky.

the shaking, it was over,
but everyone was still toward the sun.
The angel singing, she flew back to the clouds.
All her work has been done.

Life

Snores break as I expose my pupils;
my body learns to breathe again,
my brain to think.
I feel isolated,
trapped with no sense of the world.
I decide let the world come to me instead.
Opening up the window,
I see the sky as a clear vacuum,
sucking out the breath of Earth
as she spins her body continuously.
For show? It is possible;
no one wants to feel any moments of invisibility.
She turns as she suffocates.
She swirls as her lungs dry like grapes,
neglected by their blood towards the sun.