Poems by Robert Fisher

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- Justice
- The Naked Truth
- To Much Drama
- Blueberries
- Grasp the thought
- Granny

Justice

I understand the legal system,
Just don’t accept it…
Waking up all hours
of night flooded with darkness
oh too long, much too still…
Feeling a frustrating recognition
that justice in only for
a chosen few…
Due process & constitutional rights
are hollow concepts to be ignored
over and over again,
in a process of
disillsionment & confusion
following the guidelines of warped humor,
freedom remains a stranger!


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The Naked Truth

Came into this world
had no choice
A decision was made
had no voice
emotionally drained
unfocused, depressed
a situation, a trial,
certainly a test…
It’s been a long journey
sometimes I’ve held my breath,
never forgetting
life always ends with death…
May be an attractive option,
Even the strongest wings get weary!


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To Much Drama

There’s a lot happening out there today,
I’ll talk about it for a moment, if I may…
Young people making money on their knees & back,
these things happen, when you’re hooked on crack…
Our youngsters getting a bunch of time,
from the petty to the most heinous crime…
Fights & shootings in clubs & bars,
sounds of sirens, from police cars…
Bullets flying, love one crying,
a whole generation locked up & dying…
Drugs, Voilence & H.I.V.
It almost seems hopeless, if you ask me…
I don’t care what anybody say,
there wasn’t this much drama,
back in the day!


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Blueberries

A flash of lightning
in the soft morning rain
did not interrupt our walk
we still picked blueberries,
but not the ones with nothing to say…
Many were outspoken and between
outbursts of laughter revealed things…
Their words no doubt,
lacked the sweetnes of the berry!


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Grasp the thought

Elephants tip-toeing, passing by,
decorating Christmas trees, on the 4th of july…
Goldfish singing, while crocodiles strut their stuff,
the neighborhood bully doesn’t seem so tuff..
You are who you are, I am who I am
All I want to do is, sing my own song…
Caterpillars running the 100 yd. Dash.
prize possessions, soon become trash.
Don’t know what kind of message it sends,
but often our pets become our best friends…
You are who you are, I am who I am
All I want to do is, sing my own song…
Just for the record there’s not much to gain,
I seriously doubt, if it’s worth all the pain…
You are who you are, I am who I am
All I want to do is, sing my own song!


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Granny

Scars of life upon her, wisdom a steady flow…
Perhaps she’ll work in her garden today
relentlessly planting mystery seeds
watching, waiting
but nothing happened, until she plays her flute…
only then,
under rich, black soil
can you hear thunderous rumbling
as the seeds grow into goldfish
which she swallows whole
so they can swim around inside her,
dancing to the beat of funeral music
and sorrow songs…
There are no tears, only dying dreams
in a section of her heart, a junkyard
of broken dreams!

By Robert Fisher

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