Poems By Nathan Robbins


Los Angeles At Night


Old Man

Hey there Old Man, It’s been a while hasn’t it? You know the shock you gave me made me sit. If you were hear I could ask, why I’m so vexed. You know I’m still wondering what comes next, But though at times I still feel so lost, Know I’d still trade you back at any cost. I get it, you just wanted me to be happy, and To be aware of the world and think freely. Its been crazy maybe too free without mom too. As I step down my path, signs appear without you, I see the path we walked through now behind, now Riddled with a labyrinth that lead to a shrine, I only remembered mom through your memory, Left now with no idea of the intentions for me. Though I know now that’s not that important, Still thinking your actions were a bit inadvertent. Know I’m cuter old man, and You left me alone, But its my life before me I’m glad you have shown. So please be patient and enjoy your rest. Know that I love you but that I’m still a little pissed. No worries my way, I will see you another day.


Self Control

One cannot rely on anybody, especially ones own body, Mind must guide, devise actions, baby steps to factions, Once the ball is rolling, the mind-body-soul is tolling, From the rules of the world, and it’s products disturbed, The mind cannot move in a physical sense or realm, Requires rest for the impossible battle for this whelm, Dreams depths, dense and grow deeper than any ocean, To wake up everyday, and step in a way, now that’s motion, Dissecting ones direction, requires motivated reflection, Different gears fit at different times, can’t force connections, It can’t be seen in whole, but all pieces together makes the soul, Pursuit of pleasure, gifts, paradigm shift, and a little self control.


Get Close

With enough time alone, anyone will see they don’t want to be. We seek the attention of another or the pause of beauty. Now beauty isn’t purely physical, In fact, At moments it can even be musical, But in getting close to a friend or a stranger, Taking a chance brings change, fun, and potentially danger. This is where experience comes into play, Boundaries are important and its nice to know what to say. It comes down to communication being the name of the game, But these are just words, It really helps to be sane. You can never truly have any object, And people aren’t, nor are they projects. I’ve come to suppose, a classic cliche this love is a rose, Who knows, why we chose to get so close, But it shows, So to you, I toast.


Bass Guitar

You are what makes me feel so,
In-tune with my hands or at the show,
You compliment so well and sound,
As if the transitions connect and bound,
To another, And flow down the line,
Vibrantly vibrating, rhythmic rhymes,
Together now composing a solid piece,
Practice and tactics are my only release,
So many names and talents before me,
Which lead to many more, to explore and see,
And refine, what I’ve learned, And replace,
With my ability, my face, my sound, and my bass.


Your Hobby Here

I just can’t stop on my way to the top,
Building up what I got, to prepare for drop,
My visions decisions, to hold onto what I can,
But revisions derision, has devised me a plan,
I have concerns now, for the twist and the turns,
Trying to discern now, what to learn, earn, or burn,
It became strange now, a mange under pressure,
Like turning a page, or on to another measure,
Heading right back to the top,
Praying next go will be better.



What if I Don’t like Door #1

There’s just to many distractions,
All taking away from necessary actions,
I’m still just realizing my passions,
And balancing down a narrow path to my mansion,
But this is only a quarter of the game,
At times I’m still a shame filled pill, Lame,
A little confused at why I chose from which I came,
Acceptance only begins to change the frame,
Change can be ignorant and very scary,
Moving to fast can leave to much to carry,
But it’s simple, it’s understood, and completely contrary,
There’s not always a choice of what stays buried,
One time or another its all dug up,
Normally unexpected, loud and abrupt,
But I can only describe this feeling as falling up,
It’s my choice to glow or grow corrupt,
I’m holding onto me now,
I’m tired of asking how,
Listen closely and I might endow,
Depends on the distraction and what I’ll allow,



Still able.

I know I’m strong and knowledgeable,
But I seem to get lost in the logical,
It’s been a mission learning how to listen,
In my over cognition, I’ve caused friction,
Between us, it seems it’s me we can’t trust,
I guess I just, feel flightless and filled will dust,
Don’t get me wrong, Still look good in a thong, Though
It’s that I don’t know where I Belong,
But would there have really been a problem,
With out you telling me I fit in a phylum,
Blown now is my mind wide open,
Shown and handed all but its broken,
Now that I’m labeled, I’m no longer free,
Cause of concepts I’m blinded, unable to see,
Ignore the sore, and pour me another,
I’m high and dry, now just a shell of a brother.

One Mo’ Gain

As I Prepare, I enjoy the haze in the morning sun,
That cool air in the maze, of an exploring run,
Just lost in the streets, to the beats in my ear,
It clears up my head, between my peers and my fears,
The moments of mist, pressed a kiss on my skin,
And within the thin layer came charging through,
Pushing around past particles, Unable to undo,
Today’s different direction, gave an afferent reflection,
Slow down, unplug the sound, awaken in a different dimension,
I guess twist back around and head back through again,


Now Where’s That Fish Hook?

I’ve been swimming through my mind,
Patching up the holes that I find,
Grinding down misunderstood paradigms,
Its not you, its just how I grew,
Mishaps from my past stuck like glue,
And around my structure it consumed,
Ahh, But that is just yesterday,
That’s not all I have to relay,
Mind your matter and decay, carpe diem
Tomorrow too resonates my brain,
Details of my map still so lame,
The frame I’ve seen, is a hard game to tame,
Its easy to get lost maintaining the cost,
Balancing pleasure and survival only looks glossed,
Beware the frost, it can be bitter or accost,
I stand up today, and scream I want change,
Dimes would be cool, but I speak to kill mange,
Rhymes are my way to strain out the strange,
The positions I mention, cause some tension,
Or often question when is the next session,
Wait, what exactly again is this lesson,
I found my answers under my nose,
All that I faked in the past and chose to pose,
Still grows and shows my desires that rose,
Today is the day that I seek, Though
I’m no where near the peak, or the tweak,
In between is where I sit with my lit cigarette.
Defining I guess, what’s stress, pain, and a little self respect.