Home

Steve Robison

I love writing. Writing excites me, moves me, fulfills me. It’s my passion and my purpose.

If you love reading, I hope you’ll find something worthy here. As Ben Franklin said in Poor Richard’s Almanac:

“If you would not be forgotten
As soon as you are dead and rotten
Either write things worth reading
Or do things worth the writing.”

I write because I love writing. And I write so people might cry at my funeral.

Steve

P.S. If you love my writing, please consider buying one or more of my books, writing a review, and reaching out and letting me know. Thanks a million.

Steve Robison on Amazon.com »


unworthy

Type: Poem

April 8, 2021 10:55 pm EDT

i have known
from my most virginal thoughts
of my unworthiness
but for a time
i forgot

for a time
i let myself believe
i was trustworthy
i was lovable
i was good

life got better

but deep within
under all the images
beneath the pretense
where only the soul exists
i knew
i was wholly unworthy
and so
the darkness created influence
and i pushed all the good far away
with finesse, with subtlety

i betrayed her trust
by being willing to trust
neither her nor me

and the good... Read More »


Sullen

Type: Poem

April 8, 2021 10:10 pm EDT

He writhes in his wilted sadness
Sullen in rotting thoughts
A relapse of vision
Where hope turns brown
Falls from the ancient giants
And all that remains
Rotting on the forest floor
Is wet envy
And
Desparate suspicions

Robbed of the ability to trust
When all that remained was a frayed crocheted blankie
And a rubber-faced monkey
Forehead sliced
Tattered shirt torn
And a small wooden rocker

He doesn’t rock anymore
In his aging body, with his aged heart
But he remembers
The slim moments of comfort
As... Read More »


Moist Evil

Type: Poem

April 8, 2021 10:09 pm EDT

Ups,
Downs,
Ins,
Outs;
The grey sneaks under the door,
Slides across the bare wood floor,
Like low fog;
Chilling,
Cold;
Darkness tickles the soul,
Awakens the past,
And the battle…
Begins.
Ups,
Downs,
Stuck in an ancient mind,
With the fast beating heart of a scarred toddler,
And the grey, moist darkness overtakes,
Weaves through the lost souls,
As the old bones,
Buried shallow in the blooming garden,
Rise through... Read More »


Sure Rising

Type: Poem

February 14, 2019 7:06 pm EST

Some months are grey
Some days last for years
Some souls shine
And others go out

And it feels at times like nothing will ever return
To peace
To kindness
To simply, enough

Yet even then
In the valleys
On the rocky trails
Through new travails
And endless black nights
Even then
Love sustains
Love fuels
Love builds
Love is the hope and the promise and the
Imminent
Assured
Doubtless sun
We... Read More »