Poetry from Michael Robinson

Middle aged Black man wearing a tee shirt hugging an older White woman, fellow contributor Joan Beebe, to his left. They're standing on concrete in front of some bushes.
Michael Robinson (right) and fellow contributor Joan Beebe.

Mirror 2020 

In the mirror facing one’s self as the reflection, 

Looks familiar but not familiar as we thought. 

Tears that once were smiles bring reality into view. 

An afterthought comes and wake up our numbness,  

Numb to the reality of life in the 21st century, 

Violence has become a way of life in America, 

In the 1960s it was social consciousness,

Speaking out against oppression against a race.

Now in the 21st-century tyranny and oppression  

Has become the norm, which is enforced,  

By the very military that fought in our great wars. 

Our streets are roamed by American soldiers. 

We are the virus of discontent and selfishness, 

Clinging to our ideas of being a great nation. 

While people go to bed hungry and dejected by, 

Our fellow Americans in a fit of rage against us. 

A virus that has no vaccine nor end in sight. 

People wanting it to be over, so they move on,  

Unaware that they are the virus and will not,  

Be able to move on from themselves.  

8-9-2020 

Time III 

Inspired by Joan Beebe 

“Once Upon A Time.”

It has been said throughout my life. 

It once was a time when my ancestors were slaves, 

Brought over on a slave ship and chained together.  

Now in today’s time, we are chained to greed.  

No longer content to live a life of freedom but a life, 

Of total disconnect from our race and our future. 

Now we sing about bitches and whore with no regard, 

For Motherhood or Sisterhood, or just human hood.  

Family have dissolved into a six-letter dirty word, 

No longer chained to one another we walk through life. 

Rudderless with the wind facing us in a tidal wave, 

We are slaves on a ship to nowhere.  

Shadows of Life 

                   For Joan Beebe 

Pages of nothingness in life, 

A life surround by shadows,  

Of nothingness waiting to come alive.  

Alive with expectations of hopes,  

And dreams of what could be. 

Outside the shadows of doubt,  

Into a reality of what has happened.  

Moving past the shadows into fullness,  

Of life through the baptism of fire.  

Finding the strength to grow and bloom. 

Footsteps 

Wishing to have a father to follow in life, 

A man to show us what it is to be a man.  

Alone we follow a path of going nowhere, 

Standing on the corner without nothing.  

No idea of the reality of life and manhood, 

Attached to ideas of self-destruction and death.  

Ideas the float away from the true nature of,  

Fatherhood we have remained isolated and afraid. 

Afraid of what we could have become if we had, 

Have not fallen into the abyss of self-denial. 

We are our own father looking for a way to, 

Follow in our own path of regret.  

Tears of Life

                        Inspired by Joan Beebe

My heart takes the shape of a series of cirrus clouds. 

In moments of sadness, beauty remains in my heart,  

Tears fall from the sky in the dryness of my soul, 

Tears will fall from my eyes onto my cheek lightly, 

Reminding me of the kisses that you have given me. 

Kisses through the goodness in life and sadness.

A rainbow appears in the shape of my heart, 

Forever lighting my path to your heart through time.  

Time that will stand still for our affection to life, 

Goodbye is a moment of never forgetting our beginning.  

2 thoughts on “Poetry from Michael Robinson

  1. Dearest Michael,

    How wonderful, loving and inspiring your poems are — as you say inspired by me. Your words do go straight to my heart with all the love you can give. Thank you for being the gentle and caring man that you are. I thank the Lord for our lives were meant to be entwined.

    I look forward to the publication of your book of poetry, Michael.

    Much love and hugs,
    Joan

    • Joan,

      You help bring out the very best of humanity. Your devotion to truth, fairness, and sincerity wins over selfishness. Yes, you inspire me to be the very natural poet that I am. My words flow over the years from knowing you, and your words of encouragement give me hope of an even brighter future. Full speed ahead with my getting my book published

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