SELECTED SHORT POEMS

by

ROBERT URBAN

 

 

 

 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

 

I was summoned in midstream
by the call to create
But was given stern warning
that Death would not wait

So I rushed like a madman
to redeem what came late
and fussed like a schoolgirl
for my blind date... with Fate

 

 

 

 

 

 

FEAR of AIDS

seated in hushed audience
as curtain rises
on happy broadway musical

pondering
my presence in auditorium
as - sudden empty space

and my consciousness
of evening's entertainment
as- terminated point-of-view.

 

 

DEFINITION

Artists
are those who seek to become
anything other than what they
are

 

 

AT MY OWN GENERATION

I could only marvel

how from such rich earth

a garden bore fruit

yet brought forth no flower

 

THE POETS

We come of age
wounded
and wearied from the war years of childhood

"Our poems are pulses of pain remembered
in chronic pangs called Rhyme
Our limping speech is known as Meter
and we call the scars - our Style"

 

 

 

THE DILLETTANTE

He dabbled,
for awhile
in the art of being himself

Eventually he got over it.

 

AFTERTHOUGHT

 

What we feared

when we said we feared God

was actually the force of our dark, little hearts

It was a justified fear... wasn't it

 

 

 

 

 

DOOM AS FAD

 

What is most ghastly
about

the End of Art
and
the End of Nature
and
the End of History

is not that such concepts are true,

but that they're...

popular

 

 

 

 

 

 

FOR FRIEDRICH

 

You said, "Everyone eventually becomes who they are".

...

well...

...

I'm waiting...

...

...

...

...

...

o my god

 

 

 

 

 

 

LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS

 

The light of other days...
The dark within the rocks...

The memory in the leaves
of sprouted tree infancy

Still undergournd...

 

 

 

 

 

 

NARCISSUS

 

Hubris in the mirror
left behind
when vain one turns away

He gives old arrogance
to Reflection
and overflows the looking glass
with each new pose recorded

'twill burst one day, I'm sure
And in shattering,
spew forth all the moments
he knew himself least 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CIGAR-STORE INDIAN

 

Cigar-store Indian

who art thou to me?

Shroud of a native...

or ghost of a tree?

 

 

 

 

 

 

LOVE MAKES NOT THE WORLD GO 'ROUND

 

Love makes not the world go 'round

In fact, Love merely slows things down

But little affairs, when Love's not looking

Keep Life's cosmic engines cooking

 

 

 

 

 

 

STONES AND OTHER VIRTUES

 

clouds and other doubts                             birds and other freedoms                            nature's many whereabouts











BEARINGS

just think...

if the world reversed its course
and went in the opposite direction

we'd all be headed
for Paradise

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEATH MARCH OF THE PUNCTUATION

 

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............    !!!!!!!!!!!!   ;;;;;;;;;;;;   ????????????   ------------   ,,,,,,,,,,,,   ////////////

A GIRL

 

a reflection                                           a boy                                           three mirrors












DEATH MARCH OF THE ALPHABET


Z...Y...X...W...V...U...T...S...R...Q...P...O...N...M...L...K...J...I...H...G...F...E...D...C...B...A













ALL OF ENGLISH LITERATURE COMPRESSED INTO ONE, TINY SPOT

.

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