Poetry from Michael Robinson

Thunder Night It shook the building with a roar, the darkness matched the violence of the booms.  While the sound of a tremendous explosion,  Continued… Hide under the bed, I recalled from childhood. This was no ordinary thunderstorm… It was a finality to it all.  All my sins laid out in front of each clap of […]

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Poetry from Michael Robinson

After the Winter Snow For Larry and Donna   Bliss surrounds a black boy after the snow has fallen A sign of the human heart has survived An understanding of life and suffering Hunger and thirst and desire No longer does regret linger within his soul It was a winter of solitude setting on the […]

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Poetry from Michael Robinson

Grace   God’s hand over my heart, As the bullets fly into the sky, Like fireworks on the Fourth of July.   It’s the kindness of Spring, With the flowers blooming, And my soul.   My soul is the soul of many, Who has not died, In the winter snows.

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Poetry from Michael Robinson

Some Place  For Donna Simons 2017   I’ve been someplace special, Where the sun speaks to the moon, While the mountains listen.   I’ve been someplace where my soul dances, And my heart speaks in its native tongue, Some place where I come to life.   Some place where my Mother, Sings with her soul, […]

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Poetry from Michael Robinson

Black Boys Growing Up For Vincenza   Tying a tail onto a kite, Watching for the first flowers of spring, Shaking off the winter cold that had soaked down to the bone, Kissing a girl for the first time and feeling sane, Staying away from strangers that carry knives and guns. Avoiding the war when […]

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Poetry from Michael Robinson

Road to Someplace  Beyond the shallow grave which once was my home In the middle of the night which held me captive It was a selfish life I was wanting to live. Beyond the reality of the sinking sun And the signs of danger and chaos In the open skies. I fell from the skies […]

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Essay from Michael Robinson

“Don’t hurt me!” I said, sitting in the corner of a tiny room with pillows on the floor for my bed. It was an August night and it was cold. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Mary would spend the next two decades telling me that she wasn’t going to hurt me. I’d get to hear […]

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