(Including all original photography and art by Robyn Eggs.)

I.
I'm glued
To the seat -
You weep...
- not a peep!

Streets
Are lined with
Sheets
And crime
Will cease
When the
Washing is done

Not a peep,
Don't weep -
For people sleep...
And eat
(Sheets)

• written January 27th, 2018

II.
What have I done?
What will I do?
When the beast
Comes for you?
Tear me apart
Limb from limb
Just show me heart
Sinking to swim
Begin, again
The twins have won
The struggle wins
Over heart and sun
The best is yet
To be undone
I'll save everything
For the day that comes

• written January 29th, 2018

III.
I'm not gonna
Open it up to you
But, yeah, you get it
Like a gift box
New and red
You knew and read
It like a pair of socks
Beside the bed
You knew and dread it
It stared at you
When you opened it
Like the box you knew
It was filled to the brim
With it
That love of sin and
Nitwits has driven you
To open it,
Though you knew...

IV.
I was inside it
Like a shoe
And I'm not gonna
Undo
All the cursory
Cues and curly ties...
Bowties in a nursery
Couldn't burn the lies
The way you pulled
The ribbon tight
Like light, fading, dulled
Like light-fading night
Never to be seen the same
Again, never to be guessed
What's inside is to blame
Just me, tightly dressed
Tucked inside and driven insane...

V.
Why is there
So much pressure
To treasure
The things?
If I knew better
I'd letter one
Off to the King
At last, alas
He will sing,
"Truly here is one
Who can ping -
I'd like
To give her a ring."
I'd take it
And throw it
Just to anger
The King of things

VI.
Pour me out...pour me
Out of the moon -
Ladle me out
With a spoon...

(drink me in, I croon)

Wandering wayfare
Boons
Tickets to see the
Loons
Have left in ruin
Shoes
News
Has reached ears
Lewd
Ringing out true,
Brewed
Screaming names
Screwed
Until I found you

• written January 29th, 2018

VII.
Deciduous
Bastards
Ever-longing -
No wonder they've turned green...

• written February 1rst, 2018

VIII.
Bright sun
Short Winters
Long summers
What's next?
Ice melts
Poison festers
But green thrives
New life melts away
Ready to destroy
Or rebuild
Anew, warm
Green, wet
Growing
Dying
Ever-striving
To be fair
Each making
Their own way

• written February 4th, 2018

IX.
She's taking over
A new day comes
What did I tell you?
Lessons undone
For just one
Second -
Completely spun!

X.
Babe

Writing you a V-day
Poem full of famous
Ways to fill a love book
Take one look in my
Direction and I flutter
Like the grappling hook
Expertly thrown over
The rooftops of churches
Take me away, up and out
Rescue me from the mundane
And carry me into truth
I want to know intimately
How much you knew before
And what you're thinking
Now I will listen, all ears
Open, waiting for your words

• written February 14th, 2018

XI.
I have flowers now
But it's a sin to smell
There are hours ahead
But here tolls the bell
What coins do you see
At the bottom of the wishing well?
Flowers wilt, petals fall
And nothing's left swell
Sleepers sleep without
Their servants ring the bell
And no dreams in their sleep -
No flowers left to smell
Who is left?
But you, now...

• written February 18th, 2018

XII.
*It's new
I love you
You're in my dreams
While others dream of me
And I hope it will last
Like a stack of cash
And go towards good use
I hope you refuse
To let go
Simply because
You don't know
If it will last
You spend me
Like cash
You roll me up
And keep me in your pocket *

• written February 23rd, 2018

XIII.
It's March 3rd already
Have you done your taxes?
Such a sad girl
Try to relax, it's
Not that bad
But, something is keeping
Me from sunlight
And I want to go far
To leave the plight
Of the thought of
Doing taxes...
And it hasn't been that long
Since I last sang a song
About taxes and plight
And the power behind the might

XIV.
A nice warm place
A hobbity hole
A wondrous place
To escape from the known
To escape from the drones
In a hobbit hole
In warm outer space...

Traces of it can be seen
From outer space,
A place so lean
It's angle is a place
In time for human beings
To culture in the night time
Like lightning bugs that gleam
Serene

• written March 5th, 2018

XV.
The mist settles
And covers the mountains
In white
They were already
A little white
With snow
Just a speckling
What a light year
For perspectives

• written March 6th, 2018

XVI.
March 8th, oh yea
What an entire day
It has been happily -
Tiring to try and stay,
So much to dream of,
The Wizard whisks away...
But, it's soon to sleep,
Until the next day
Adventures in dreamland
Where we do and say
Now I notice the new -
The opening of the way
Experiencing the mist,
And rain, and birds at play -
Showing off their homes
On a new, Spring day

XVII.
That's not
Very much,
But
I can
Do it,
She says
She prays
For more
But knows
To score
She will have
To bore
Her face off
The cost of
Which
May be
Too much...

I do,
I do want to work
But,
I can't, for the hurt
Is too much...
Too much pain -
Not enough gain
And now I must do
Poetry again
All my plans,
Rivaled down
Perhaps I can
Still submit
To wit
The paintings
I desired entered
Into playing

• written March 15th, 2018

XVIII.
I do
Want it so
Want it so-so
I want it
Up my nose
Don't you know?
I bought low
Just to show
I do...

...And now
I'm screwed...

And they're happy
Happy to know me,
Happy to see me
Being so happy...

You
Did
It
To me
See?
More
Of you
To screw
More
See?
We
Left in
All
Hurry
See?
Judgement
Asunder, it went...

XIX.
A body, outside itself
Seen as seen
After looking around
Triple human wings
To soar on the profound
An ear out, listens
To words along the ground
And gentle breezes whistle
Throughout the town
A body, inside a house
But outside the known
Will run, loose
Like a mouse
In a maze of choice
Refusal to choose
Is the obstacle -
The mind is the noise...

• written March 19th, 2018

XX.
Sometimes I do not
Know if I am
Worth a damn
Nobody knows
Who's worth a damn
In town, anyways
It's one thing
I will not
Abide by,
Rousting up sausages
Like a breakfast drive-by
Who are you hurting
Anyways?
But the candle,
The baker,
And the cash-stack
Maker...

XXI.
Scott Weatherby
Inspires me
To write freely
Down by the sea...

And all for the
Love of Scott Weatherby
He does it to me
He writes so profoundly

Don't put out the
Papers and the trash
Don't recycle styles
Don't put out his words
In a re-hash of wiles
Recycling can last
Until the morning piles

• written March 25th, 2018

XXII.
503-Morning
Mushroom Edition
Old-ass
Shelf mushroom
Protected
In the trunk
Of an old tree
Sure...
Get high and forget
To take a shit...
Stand up...
Your neck is full of coffee

XXIII.
Hey, you guys
It's coming on
This Spring it's wise
To keep your shirt on

Did I mislead you?
Were your woes begone?
Or did they stay even
After putting a blanket on?

When my toes are cold
I get discouraged
But I quietly wrap them
With Spring courage

• written March 21rst, 2018

XXIV.
I woke up
To the atmosphere
Changing
The day came when
I'd be sitting here
Straining
To tell myself if it...

Here it comes...
I see it!
The raindrops
Refracting light
Like sky drops
Of bursting light
Right into my eyes

Creating a misty fog...
...More coffee

More coffee, more water
More reason
To shut out the fodder
More treason
For the larder
Can't fill you up
A room yet
For all the harder
You've worked
To shit-talk
The President
Even while he works
More coffee
More laughing
Less stalking
More cash-ins
More reason
To celebrate this season

XXIV.
Brings morning
Reflections
I have perfect photos
For my intentions...
Let it be known
Of the ascension
Do not withhold
Summer apprehension

XXV.
Shit, that's not true
Egypt is closer than
You think
Lifespans visit sands
Of Egypt, like ink
Spread across so much paper...

Women gods
Coming down from
The sky
To breed with
Earthen men
Covered up
As sin
But male gods
Are a well-trodden
Storyline

An amazing perfection
To witness
A daunting priviledge
To secure
With the strongest fitness
I will wade through manure
To come out the other side
Full of exuberance, pure

All poems and images are copyrighted Robyn Eggs, April 8th, 2018.

Find me on Facebook.com/robyneggsphotography

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