Definition Of Poetry

Poetry is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and rhythmic qualities of language—such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre—to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, the prosaic ostensible meaning.

To me personally, if you dream poetry and wake up in the morning writing poetry, you’re a poet. Do the words in the poetry have to rhyme? No, not all the time. Poetry is another form of expressive writing. Poetry has the ability to tell stories or forms songs- once known as “floetry” and no not the R&B duo. Floetry where it would just flow out as a rap or verse.

If someone gives you negative criticism, take it with a grain of salt – because each poet has a different style, and above all, we can’t please everyone.

So do you, be yourself. Don’t let others dictate what you should or should not write.


New Colossus

New Colossus – Statue of Liberty sonnet in full

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

By Emma Lazarus circa 1700s


The joys and the pains of motherhood The surprises in the form of a little person
All I want and wish for is him to have a perfect childhood
Whilst all the days I must stop myself from cursing

Oh little guy my sweet baby boy
My glasses are not a toy
More and more I say to thee STOP THAT
As you try to go drum and tap tap
You’re only a year old
Yet you’re rebelous and dare I say bold

In one ear and out the other
Never listening to mother
I don’t have that deep voice
Yet I do have another choice

There’s always Nana or Dad
Since mama has to get away
Batteries are drained because of the wee lad
Truly feel that I will fray

All the days I wrestle with restlessness
Feeling breathless after the child chase
Not to mention cleaning up the “waste”

Tears, Screams and Laughs all endlessness
Pushing through the exhaustion
All while keeping caution
Sometimes though through my weepingness
Your smile is all I need to help with my sleeplessness

© 2018 By M. Robbins

Living Dead Girl

Photo by Justin Gedak
Photo by Justin Gedak

Sleep is nothing more then a far off dream
So here I lay resting or so it would seem
As ashes fall from heavens face
I realize now that I’m in a 6×6 space

A daily reminder of the four walls
A daily reminder of those harassing calls
A daily reminder of how I’m trapped
A daily reminder of how people don’t see I’m handicapped

Life was never fair
Yet it use to be easy to bare
Once upon a time ago I use to care
Now all I do is mumble and stare
Once again into the dark
Once again to unleash the maddening lark

No room for compromise
Because in truth you speak lies
I no longer need fear
Nor do I shed that tear

You no longer rule this world
Go head let your lip curl
No surprise I became the living dead girl

© 2018 by M. Robbins

Dark Side Of Me

Photo By P. Crawford 

Shadows amongst thy hallow room
Eyes searching for the deathly groom
In the corner, the widow uses her wicked loom
In betwixt the weaving and sewing, a skeleton does bloom

Remember child the cloak is red
soaked in blood she must be dead
eyes open with the colour of white
My chest becomes painful and tight

Remember child this is destiny and your legacy
Living under tyranny and supremacy
I can’t fathom this future of torture
Waves of tears pouring filling the ground with moisture

There I appear in my safe zone
While the wolf knaws on a bone
Darken twisted trees is all I can see
Realize Child, This is the dark side of me

©2018 By M. Robbins

This is a dream

Time keeps slipping from me
Everything is harder to see
The fog is not lifting
Here I scramble with memories shifting
Do I dare ponder
Or go through life with wonder
It’s a trap for sure
And you doth be the lure
In my mind you have a theme
Yet I know all of this is a dream

© 2018 by M. Robbins