Robert Rorabeck Poems

First whispers in the morning meaning nothing,
Give no candle flame warmth, unless they are of your
Lips,
Just so these words crawl meaningless through the
...

The full poem is in her lips,
Pursed, she cannot spell.
Opened, she kisses him and he goes
Home and grows a garden in his sleep:
...

Because I haven’t caught her yet,
I’m casting out again letting this silver net
Of lies free to sink and entangle about her
Pinkish knees, where she rests wading
...

Inkless, I expose myself-
I am just a shell pressed to your lips:
Drink my flesh,
Gnaw on my elbow I toss to you
...

Starting all out all of the runners know the words of
Their joy,
But eventually only the best will know the absence of fatigue,
And they will molt the histories
...

It comes up to this, and then it goes forever away:
Lapping and making love and counting the strokes that is necessary
To acquire each color,
And I have lived alone for so long that it isn’t even necessary to
...

When the moon rises above the movie theatre
There will be no more thoughts for
Unicorns, or cherry orchards,
But I will have to get out of my car
...

It seems to be keeping things together:
The fox in the eyes of the girl who isn't even here:
In the playground before the sea:
The only thing that is hiding all of it from her is
...

You put me down so far underground
Like a plush rabbit without his crown:
Sister, sister, you put me down:
My entire family put me down; I am the black sheep
...

Weapon in a cloud in a dragon's
Fading dream—
The sea happens over the open windows
Hoping that their search will find her—
...