Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Definition of Poetry - by - Bob Atkinson

Definition of Poetry
- by - Bob Atkinson

Poetry - the Emotional Content of Literature

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Definition of Poet - by - Bob Atkinson

Definition of Poet
©2017 Bob Atkinson


Poet

One Who Gathers Emotional Words Into A Cohesive Piece.
(does not include those who merely write words and call them poetry)

Friday, June 23, 2017

A Prideful Child - by - Bob Atkinson


A Prideful Child

©2017 Bob Atkinson
Walking along on Congress
from parking box to Fox
a warm night of illusions
showed me comfort on a lark

to see old Gordon Lightfoot
in his glory of today
with strings of gentle feeling
as if in pride's parade

a soul passes by me
a younger kind of lass
not breathing hard just gliding
to her destiny she did pass

had leggings like those others
who thought nudism's all a rage
but this one's more conservative
neatness her best page

my thoughts left me amazed
how people could progress
with these two divergent cultures
finding togetherness in press

but thoughts of similar nature
found a brick wall there with my glance
for as we came upon a street
our harmonies there did pass
 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pedestrian_crossing
for a red light shown oh so brightly
"don't walk" there on display
but this beauty of gentle nature
kept her pace without delay

she strode as if was nothing
to violate this request
no vehicles from this side street
why stop, and for seconds rest?

wasn't that this ignorance
harmed but any soul
purely displayed lack of character
to our common goals

mine and many other people
there on that sidewalk's route
stopped and waited for this light
to tell them "go's" alright

you see pride lives in one's mind
not on one's tongue alone
character resides in one's heart
not on a chair-like throne

for pride alone made us pause
not in her mind that day
what you can get away with
was her mindset there displayed

right and wrong lies absolute
not only when one sees
no danger in quickly passing
against red light there on a street

most people feel honor
cannot be bought for seconds past
where doing right comes natural
watching another fight a distant past

where we all took care of each other
and children weren't afraid
although they never would
in front of adults mis-behave

for rebuke of bad behavior
would be firm and would be quick
but now that's not the way
people think, "that wasn't slick"

we see ourselves evolved from that
but really have not devised
a societal institution which
creates a prideful child

they walk through life without a nod
to simple right and wrong
only concerned about themselves
not seeing harmony in a throng

no pride for only pride's sake
no clear idea of ethic's hum
as their honor can be bought
with a few seconds gained beyond

beyond a simple concept
we'll never here agree
that's the only real difference
between her mind and me
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pedestrian_crossing

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

We're All Geared Up tribute to "all geared up," - a wood carving by Rudy Erdmann - by - Bob Atkinson

We're All Geared Up
tribute to "all geared up,"
a wood carving by Rudy Erdmann
©2017 Bob Atkinson
http://www.rudyscreations.com/index.php

one needs specific tools if one
lives life here in our West
so much to do with energy
seasoned workmen shine their best

hard work requires boots with spurs
to ride an open range
protecting feet of cowpokes
as they play the doggy game

a simple use of leather hide
protects toes which wiggle quick
although walking in them's quite a chore
between rattlers and cactus sticks

leather becomes a useful tool
makes what we need for life
and sheath to hold our knife

belt to hold lead bullets
keeping projectiles easily within reach
because one's aim's not precise
we hit mostly tops of trees

leather for a saddle which
allows us control of beast
belt buckle to protect our jewels
while roping things to eat

someone to collect those bad guys
and hang them up on trees

seems documented fully
this life of western skies
as Rudy put to carving wood
a sweet vision for our eyes

took a block of growth to carve
Lodge Pine Burlwood, a woody blob
brought down here from Wyoming
where trees are used for logs

burlwood Rudy tells me
comes from wasps stinging trees
where trees protect their innards
as Oysters protect pearl seeds

this wood needs time to season
three years or longer then
when ready to carve with diligence
doesn't crack open like a hog's mud pen

Rudy sent to Germany
for stains to color wood
a place where skills developed for
carving clocks and other goods

Rudy attacked this project
with chisels and power tools
anything a master had
at hand to work his wood

carving alone took nine months
seasoning, painting, finishing took many more
but in the end we're thrilled to see
his piece of western lore

he's captured a bit of history
in complex form for museum trade
a carving meant to thrill our children's children
past when we're all in graves

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Learning and Eloquence - by - Bob Atkinson 2017


Learning and Eloquence
©Bob Atkinson 2017
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eloquence

seems expressive constitution
gladdens one who finds
learning an experience
to expand a simple mind

tracks through prior awareness
of scholars beyond our time
hastens depth of knowledge
into a wet and salty brine

a lake of prior study
giving meaning where life can
present a past collection
built up from simple hands

I don't see how we find this dull
don't fidget with delight
at those who see experience
edge out study through many nights

for knowledge carries weight of years
beyond our shortened time
claims we're greater than the whole
a quarter not a dime

but then not all of us
me included in this pack
can talk with elocution
when speaking to a group

so I must write my thoughts
here on paper made from trees
so you might find my experience
contains something for your needs

Friday, March 17, 2017

Shame and Dishonor - by - Bob Atkinson


Shame and Dishonor
(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

self image drives us on
what we think of ourselves
that description in our hearts
a code of honor we live upon

most see absolutes
as an objective to aspire
feel their wandering desires
detach them from normal lives

care not for propriety
one certain goal of life
an ancient institution
love for self, others, life

if norms carried focus
would find focus fuzzy
not finely tuned with society
but stumbling toward a muddy

a muddy trap of insecurity
never clean in dispensation
a shallow form of creation
not for a lifetime of salvation

of course in surface tension
would falsely justify
every action so minute
as to let distortions pass us by

some utilize techniques
make us bow and read their lines
to drive deeply into our minds
sub-conscious control to rectify

rectify a service not to God
but to their selfish whims
leaving us without a soul
truth buried by their sins

passes by as if so real
yet hidden from good truth
an open invitation
to continue on uncouth

let this stand a lesson
let this tell us how
to finely tune existence
forgetting lies of hollow ground

one needs not look outward for
a method to escape
poverty of soul
honor's an easy form of grace

without much solid evidence
real and lasting virtue
must always stand astride
taking softness to always nurture

nurture a benevolent tone
which carries toward good grace
never letting lack of soul
our aura disgrace

standing firm with nature's task
of building toward a future
where everybody finds a goal
which carries soul to institutions

when we feel our lives in tune
we're forever on a run
which helps us toward a future
devoid of smoke and guns

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

End of the Circus End of Good Times - by - Bob Atkinson


End of the Circus
End of Good Times
(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

sweet dreams of audience screams
clowns who populated cars so small
high wire, acrobats, trapeze
elephants, tigers, lions, monkeys, macaws

all these things we saw up close
in a big top held up with ropes
barkers on a midway run
games to play outside for fun

all gone now

here in my lifetime a taste for reality
replaced by mechanical screens
effects created by computer
no interest anymore in realistic things


but now I find 'tis cycle time
where past repeats itself

all we knew when we were young
find ways to re-purpose themselves

most pleasant hide-out of tomorrow
will have none of science showing
a simple world for simple souls
flowers growing in peaceful gardens

sound of mechanical oddities
gone from everyday life
nothing seen of computer screens
wood cut with saw held tight

feel I might not survive that world
I'm such a wimp today
leverage of a million years
no longer here displayed

so many dreams to think about
won't find an answer yet
my mind's so clouded with doubt
but had to get it off my chest

about these changes I'm forced to endure
wish stability now and then
but when I'm forced to stand still
I find laments begin

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Devolution A World Devolved - by - Bob Atkinson


Devolution
A World Devolved
(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

sense we've turned a corner
in our world of fine fixed minds
where we've become accustomed
to variations without rhyme

those simple institutions which
find nothing here of note
I'm in a vast confusion
about these things here I have wrote

do my reflex feelings
come from deep down in my heart
or do they reflect passages burned
by media's techniques of minded rot

for everywhere I look I find
them telling me how to feel
I don't respond well to terror
or some altruistic zeal

for those who think they know good truth
in reality know nothing new
they're only in this for ego
to assemble a controlled crew

which feeds their self-image
a preponderance of rage
and kills those innocent of guilt
while keeping freedom caged

I find this situation
irritating in the least
for whomever keeps me from life
deserves to lie at my feet

an open invitation to
those who force themselves on us
and keep us in a bind
with their varieties of lust

lust for power and control
I give you not that over me
for I am a simple soul
wanting to be free

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Sophistication of Voice - by - Bob Atkinson

Sophistication of Voice
(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

say this how you will
in a certain snippet of time
your sophistication dawdles
in open sets of rhyme

I don't feel inclusive
don't feel comfortable at all
in my use of language
could be my downfall

set down for you emotions
of a simple mortal man
a tribute to institutions of
an event without a plan

how do we progress in culture
without concern for how we write
without a line of arrogance
or even gentle light

my own experience in this
carries nothing much of note
just simple words for simple minds
in everything I've wrote

so many little words held up
for ridicule and jest
which sends a message to you
gets this off my chest

I'm not one to dawdle on
little nothings of ideas
but here lies an open question
bringing up my fears

fears I won't match those words
to my every whim
and leave you wondering how I can
collect them in a bin

and throw them as if sharp darts
at walls of indecision
bringing something to your table
with or without derision

take this open pleading for
an epic or dust pan
but never stop believing in
capabilities of man

Monday, January 9, 2017

An Army to Conquer An Army to Protect - by - Bob Atkinson


(c)2017 Bob Atkinson

here in middle continent
we form a battle band
to project our authority
both here, and beyond our land

a society becomes a creature
tries everything of note
to influence beyond fixed borders
government without a single vote

outcomes of senseless struggle
rebels without good cause
those who would harm peace
taking life spark from us all

my feelings swell inside me always
when thinking about these facts
face flushes with emotion
when viewing tanks with tracks

and guns which carry bullets
boots with which to march
backpacks carrying all needs
for a killer pawn's departure

knowing first hand that we
as an army have no voice
in bringing civil nature to
another country's coasts

makes me sad when reflecting
how we deviate from real
sinking down deep to find
our courage and our zeal

perhaps without these travesties
we never would evolve
into a force of nature
with courage and resolve

this thought finds comfort for
my conflict here in mind
do we try to pretend greatness
by slapping down our kind

or do we equate emotions
courage, fanfare, marching through
a world without open borders
where violence pays its due

pays homage to a past
where the vicious found their mark
and tortured all who opposed
their view of nature's spark