Blank That Advent Outside I Hear Gentle Thought Glowin' This

Blank That Advent Outside I Hear Gentle Thought Glowin' This

A Poem by Robert Robbie Lord Dudley

Keeps with lookin' deep enough
So do I recalls & ignores not knowin' its view do
It can't be that might be lets us sincere
All's in. At hands that dust'd birds nests I learn'd, try'd
Beginnin' but where up only
Could for cool berries or blues, thinks, feels, covers;
& other things conceals
On a leaf turnin'. Tarry on!
Made in the heartbeats
The spaces between pressin' on
we both shall seek
Next a-flat rock sticks thru
You, too, signs it thick
Me, too, wrote down from,
How it's over now.
Anyways, everso still
The sea"s at play there
Shines pools mostly weather from
Wooden spoons
Devices safe shelves for puddles
Books spoke reasons arises brightly
Searchin' continues;
Stands diggin' atop on mounds
Hands full of dust & rains & sands
You saw where it's at there
Thru & thru
Within times sent

Sounds fair, fresh, firmly for all the rest is me,
Even if you did nothing
At all again
But in romantic thought
I don't comply by
Callin' outwards to me
I'll have it somewheres
So says you there
As an item in the midst yards further than mine;
What abouts that at lest
We'll be in our case
Still forgets it,
As is, O' if some encloses a-lid
Off a-used chest;
O' whatever-so must be;
Shouldn't that do it pours,
A-heart out;
Keeps a-hold over these days closer.

Actions for a-rose warmer
I'm gonna fall so much sadder
Perhaps, a-tear
Does that a-matter
What's next thence extremes goin' on elsewhere
There without
Swiftly of whichever
So times entwines
We made it like some inside plenty of woes
So, goes
To go unplant'd upon
Itself a-flew
Whence back & forth &
Enjoy'd it
Awash'd at first light
An amazin' landscape covers & rolls
Up-on it rocks
A-real place
I hears it in at ideals
Directions in at dawns
Starts wide in remarks to begin again
Done alone
Creates an intellect passin' by
Into the sheets words
Goes on
A-silent little hilltop-song
I saw their webs
I saw their wires
Brings with one
Open air or two
O' those windows
Will recover you is to see upon this

Keeps with lookin' deep enough
So do I recalls & ignores not knowin' it, is there ?
All's at hands that dust'd birds nests learn'd, tires is stuck
In nothin' much
But feels for cool berries or blues, thinks, falls so;
I guesses; Thence? Sends me off backwards flyin'
Home was calm
Like birds on the glare had paint'd where
Blast'd! The rails & push'd into some invigoratin'
Notes; O' sound, Hello
I'm gladsome you
Made it exist.

Waitin' in silence
Inhales it. It's a-poem exhales it so forth can go
On & gets it on
Hands full of dust & rains & sands
It may-be
Blank that advent outside I heard a-gentle thought
Glowin' this way
Made it round & broke often now
Thee importance
As I was goin' to say; Durin' warm Winter days
O' felt betterment
Blank that advent outside I'm hearin' it call;
Throwin' quilts that,
Mismatch'd us.
A gentle thought glowin' this I say,
May this day be filled within,
Easy reads & simple minds;
O' only these will go,
solid ?
& fewer
by gum go,
Is so hollow.

© 2024 Robert Robbie Lord Dudley


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Reviews

Our writing is in many ways a revision of thoughts and impressions like moving furniture around if that image suits. Good stuff.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I agree with Joseph
What is important for me is all around me..
and, of course memories..
I see you wrote in response
revise, revise, revise..
Lisa, now in Spain

Posted 2 Years Ago


I don't comply either...on the inside I am me, on the outside I am me.
and I find what is around me, people, places, the beauty of nature...those are what are
important...not me, not things...
and the poetry...that is important...not the poet but the words.
j.

Posted 2 Years Ago


Robert Robbie Lord Dudley

2 Years Ago

Write on :)
, revise, revise, revise

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879 Views
3 Reviews
Added on January 11, 2022
Last Updated on February 21, 2024

Author

Robert Robbie Lord Dudley
Robert Robbie Lord Dudley

Riverside, NJ



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ACROSS THE NIGHT'S SHINING ROAD COVERS ME, i'LL READ. Life, Thyme leeds rails rushes a begotten hold only copes oh, poetry a random ray of yellow light shining sky golden drops in fields trickles b.. more..

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