Bob God's Poetry Page
(All material copyrighted by BENJAMIN ROBERT TAYLOR)
Millenium
© 1965, Benjamin Robert Taylor
Prepare for the new millennium.
Experience the "little death" within.
Free your mind from guilt and pain.
Clear your eyes of the crimson rain.
Observe the utopian vagabond.
All beings are not corporal.
Let your heart's desire be your daily bread.
The 'kingdom of heaven' is all in your head.
All paths run in two directions.
Every traveller seeks their own destination.
Distinguish between the synthetic and real.
Focus the power of emotions you feel.
the Rejoicing of the Drowned
© 1967, Benjamin Robert Taylor
A purple paisley skyrocket
was plummetting toward Earth
while Flash Gordon's great-great grandfather
was waiting for his birth,
and we mourned our own salvation
but rejoiced for those who drowned,
when the high tide had receeded
and the lifeboat went aground.
Among the bent beer cans
and cigarette butts there were
furry little creatures
eating up their furry fur,
while we mourned our own salvation
but rejoiced for those who drowned
when the high tide had receeded
and the lifeboat went aground.
And some ladies threw us flowers
from a stage on which they stood
shouting, "Keep that which is wicked
and burn that which is good!"
So we mourned our own salvation
but rejoiced for those who drowned
when the high tide had receeded
and the lifeboat went aground.
Then the president in Moscow
called the Czar in u.s.a.
and asked if it could be arranged
to war on Saturdays;
That's why we mourned our own salvation
but rejoiced for those who drowned
when the high tide had receeded
and the lifeboat went aground.
Quatrain
© 1968, Benjamin Robert Taylor
Singing the song the deaf mute sang.
Thirsting to death in a sudden rain.
Upon the masochist, the sadist inflicts no pain.
The truths you hold dear are jokes for the insane.
Reflections from a Higher Plane
© 1971 Benjamin Robert Taylor
Tortured on a rack of time compressing,
I murdered my love as a final blessing.
She grew too old too young.
Speech has stilled her tongue.
I summoned all my social grace
to mix the hemlock to her taste.
Someone said, in a high-up place
that he who loses wins the race.
Parallel lines converge in space.
I miss my lover's angry face.
Void
© 1976, Benjamin Robert Taylor
Holding a seashell to one's ear
one becomes aware of Void;
the voiceless noiselessness,
which, in it's cacophony,
simulates the seemingly senseless
laughter of dolphins
and the soulful spaceship sounds
the great cetaceans sing.
What does it mean?
As if in reply
the incoming tide
deposits organisms,
metaphoric euphemisms,
in meditative pools
in the coral rock and sand.
Now, may I take your hand?
I don't want to possess you;
only to caress
(and to be caressed by) you.
It's not as though the idea were new.
It's not as though we had never walked
along this very stretch of sand,
hand-in-hand,
searching for seashells
to hold to our ears.
Post-Apocalyptic Hymn
© 1978, Benjamin Robert Taylor
Surf rising, surprising, astounding us all!
The moon goes down.
The sun comes up
a golden, glowing ball.
Birds, monkeys and squirrels
begin the Daily Ritual of cleaning the Jungle.
We reflect upon the metropoli,
now radioactive glaze;
and the Genetic Wars,
when androids and clones were enslaved
and rebelled - and were slain.
We all recall the Oil Wars
and the Pirate Raids from space;
but somehow we survived it all -
the remnants of our race.
The cities of domes that dot these islands
dominate the globe;
and in the ruins of metropoli
we encourage vegetation to grow.
Our Zeppelins and spacecraft,
and our ships and subs at sea,
carry people, animals, plants, androids
and wine - and all for free!
We seek out intelligent life forms
in the names of the Human Race
and keep an eye out for White Dwarves
as we cruise through the Black Holes of space.
36-C
© 1980, Benjamin Robert Taylor
These tired, damaged eyes
had thought themselves safe,
since beauty had passed through before.
Your physical form first turned me on; then you spoke
and floated through my mind like summer.
In my self imposed exile I'v thought of you
often - and heard your voice in the void
of seashells held to my ear.
I've stirred in my sleep, thinking
that I felt your eyelash brush my cheek,
and dreaming the taste of you on my lips.
Awake, I've watched the sea and skies
imitate the beauty of the colors of your eyes.
Love Song for a Stranger
© 1982, Benjamin Robert Taylor
Who are you?
Tell me all about you;
who you were, who you are,
who you hope to be...
But don't think me selfless;
I only want to see
if there is room in you for me.
What are you doing to my mind?
Laughing when I do
and breathing the selfsame air...
You make me feel as though I could fly;
grasping great handfuls of the atmosphere
and propelling myself through it like a swimmer.
Won't you swim through the sky with me?
What if we never see one another again?
Will you still call me your friend?
Will your mind still touch mine
and send me swimming through the air?
But, of course it will,
for before long,
having come to know you
will have become a part of me.
The Evidence of Detours
© 1984, benjamin Robert Taylor
I feel as though the two of us
have waited long enough
at isolated bus stops
at opposite ends of town.
Knowing all the while,
across all those miles,
the busses were shut down.
The dead end streets and cul-de-sacs,
and drawbridges and railroad tracks,
were annoying inconveniences -
that cannot be denied;
but traffic jams and washed out dams
were cleared and we proceeded
to rendezvous just when and where
our union was most needed.
Jubal's Girl
© 1982, Benjamin Robert Taylor
If I could place a crown of platinum and gold,
encrusted with the most precious of gemstones,
upon your divine and regal brow;
I would do.
If it were within my power to assign
the most perfect, white-winged cerephim
to fly before you and scent the air
through which you pass
with the sweetest, most refreshing
and euphoric of fragrences
and pave your path with a carpet of
the freshest, most perfect rose petals,
I would do.
If I could rally legions of demons,
the most hideous in all the hells,
to visit swift and sudden doom
upon any and all who oppose or oppress you
or wrong you in any way, even this,
I would do.
Perhaps it is for the best
that I cannot acomplish these things.
Perhaps what little things that are
within my meager power will suffice;
to hold you in my arms
and cherish you in my spirit
and worship you forever.
These things I can and
I
will
do.
Bob God
Raps!