Three poems | by JD Robinson


We were ushered into our

bedrooms and we listened

as our father returned home

after 3 or 4 days absence;

and then our mother

opened up our bedrooms

doors and although I was

only 9 or 10 years old I

could see that she was

shaken and angry but she

quietly let us into her

bedroom and my little

sister and I walked in to

our father laying in bed,

his face a battered mass

of red and purple bruises

and cuts, he tried to

smile but couldn’t and

my sister began crying

and I felt shocked but I

didn’t feel sorry for him

and some time later I

learnt that he’d pushed

his luck and shot his

mouth-off one night and

took the punishment from

2 or 3 other barfly’s;

but mostly I recall the

ashamed, regretful and

sad gaze in my mother’s

eyes as she opened up

our bedroom doors and

I felt sorry for her,

his wounds would heal 

with time; 

but I wasn’t too sure

about hers.


I’ve seen god

in puddles of rain

in the scribbles

of babies

in the smiles

of the lost,

in the dew

and the dust

and in the 

footsteps of

the nameless

just like you

I know god

as you know

a new morning

as I know a 

new morning

I’ve seen god

in garages and in

cafes and bars and

public toilets and 

in the eyes of cats

and in the doorways

of sulking cathedrals, 

like you

I know god in the

flight of soft things

and in the voices of

oceans and alcohol

and what we call


trying to make it work

with something


always looking over

our shoulders for

something that we 

don’t have words


knowing it is there

all the time;


a faith in 

the mystery

of it all.


“Hello” I answer.

“Are you the owner

of a PC on this number

sir” a voice asks

“Yes” I say

“Sir, you have very

serious problems with

your PC; it has been

sending us data 

informing that your

device in under

serious threat and

I can help you”

“And who are you?”

I ask

“Sir, my name is Pedro,

I am calling from

PC Experts and I need

you to give me remote

access to your

PC so I can save your

PC Sir”

“Yeah, and I’m

Napoleon” I say

“Excuse me sir?” 

the voice says and

then repeats himself

“Sir Pedro” I say

“So you want to help

me out because you’re

worried for me

and my computer

and you’re doing this

because you’re a nice

caring person and 

wouldn’t want to

think of me upset 

and you want to

help me out for nothing”

“Excuse me sir? It is

my job. I am Pedro”

the voice says

“And I’m Caligula”

I say

“Excuse me sir?”

the voice says

“Die fighting

not waiting” I say

“Excuse me sir? The

voice says and then

the line 



John D Robinson is a published UK poet: Hundreds of his poems have been published in the small press and online literary journals: His latest chapbook is ‘These Poems Stole Your Lunch Money’ a split chapbook with Bradley Mason Hamlin (Holy&intoxicated Publications 2018).


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s