Robert Helma
Bio
Hello! I am a amateur in every sense of the word, but I love to write! This is a great experience for me to test my abilities.
Stories (10/0)
A lover in the rough
A lover in the rough I know I’m wandering blindly in this world. A wide and open plain where all my emotions are wrapped or swirled. Strewn across the pages of the roads that I have walked and yet I sprint a little, fall a lot, and find the strength to get back up. My lip quivers, my body shakes, I let the dust settle beneath my stride where I hide in my foolish pride the yearning for comfort that lies inside. My face a smile, a hopeless lover I continue to trek on hoping not to step wrong, get drawn to a place I don’t belong… until I find my calm. Whether lost in eyes of green, hair blonde or a sunset or dusky hue… a lover in the rough I am, wandering far and wide growing love inside my heart that’s true.
By Robert Helma8 months ago in Poets
My peace
I find my peace in the summer wind and the rising Sun and the dew upon the leaves. I’ll find my peace in the rolling clouds and the whispering Meadows that hold secrets that only my heart can hear. I find my peace under the waters and in the fire as they quench my thirst and ignite my soul. I find my peace with the sweet caress of the voice of the one I love as she lays bound to my heart and soul like a tether to a ship in the moore or better yet a vine to the tree… Or more so like a soul to a soul. I find my peace as I lay upon the roof top and gaze up at the stars, the vast universe playing with my eyes as I paint pictures of past and future, but live in the moment. I find peace as I lay my head up on the pillow and drift into dreams that, whether they sting or whether they soothe, I wake with a smile as the scent of love lingers upon my lips… I say your name… My smile creeps… And I am at peace.
By Robert Helma2 years ago in Poets
Lilac and citrus
brush me in your silvery winds and sweet caress. Dance the scent through my nose and into my heart as I stare at your beauty from afar… pondering and hiding until you make that first move. My lilac and gooseberry, the one who I adore, my Yen, my raven and my amity. The calamity you have created in my soul is beyond the grasp of understanding and yet I see everything clearly for the first time in my life. Citrus sweet, you reminded me and now I am lost in the reminiscent flowering of a cologne that won’t wash away. I am bound. Shackled but not forcibly to the longing that comes by something as simple as scent and musk…. How you astound me and entrap me in this lovely hue. Come bring me home with you and don’t let me go again. Like we said… as I trusted… my lilac love… I’ll compliment with my citrus trust.
By Robert Helma2 years ago in Poets
Thunder and lightning
Be the thunder to my lightning. Rumble inside my heart and mind and make my body shake. As I move faster than the world around be the sound that makes people fear me, appreciate me, stand in awe… lift me up in your echo and place me down to the earth in that booming fashion. Be my thunder. The beating of my heart as I love you. Crackling through your body and soul like a strike from above and sending shivers… sweet shivers into you. Energizing the bits of you that make the world exciting and new. Be my thunder. As we move in tandem we dance along the wind making sweet music in the sky. The thunder to my lightning and my love unending….
By Robert Helma3 years ago in Poets
Colors
Blue. A color often calm and simple in its hue and we relate it to the feelings of peace… or sadness… but green. A vibrant color, strong and clean where we see growth occur and poetry in motion… or sickness… oh red. A passionate and lavish adventure where love and power put us back together and the heat that emanates is something we relate to the ecstatic feeling of a kiss… or anger… what color are we, depends on the day and then the color we’ll be reflects in the way that we paint it on… to our crooked face… and if we paint it just right… a mask we wear… of rainbow and roses and passion just flows as we’re calm and collected and smooth, but dejected and the peace that we have and sadness reflects in the love… yes love… a color undescribed and the footprint that our lives are based on… color me in love… set me in the sun…. Hold me close and pull me in as we start painting from within and we become a canvas and an artist… love
By Robert Helma3 years ago in Poets
Sights
Under the wind whipped trees and the old autumn skies, grey with their impending rain he sat. Fresh. New. They built him up nice and tall in the back so that I could store not one, but two… yes count ‘em… two tractors!! Pretty tall too! A loft and stalls where hay gets thrown and maybe a few other things. The summer was hot, but board by board the walls came together and the beams were placed; criss-crossed to brace him for any weather and season. Made to last and couldn’t wait to serve for years to come.
By Robert Helma3 years ago in Fiction
Still, my heart
The sweet sun kisses the lips of the morning. The dew thick on the grass eats up every moment like a sponge. Spanning the field of green and purple twilight hue a mixture of that few and the kiss of the sun sparks a promise… a new day. Dancing along the clouds the song of birds wanes and pricks at the ears of two lost lovers… ever together… yet far apart…. Both different in wants and needs… yet perfect for each other. A balance of sorts that as the songs play through the sky, different lyrics come to each of them… both speak of love. 11 minutes and he could be there. 11 minutes and she could be gone. 11 minutes they could both stop… and stare and instead of singing two different songs, they can sing in harmony. Counter melodies one on top the other bouncing through the sky… the voids filled by the music they make. The clouds carry it along. One to the other. Each echo compliments the next as if it was meant to be. Two lost lovers. Both different and yet one compliments the other. As the birds song become the chorus to their unique song. Carried along the breeze and whipping through the air… the summer sun still lingers upon the dewy grass there. The grass that’s in the field. The grass lush and green. Mixing with the purple hue of twilight in this scene.
By Robert Helma3 years ago in Poets
You’re home
It was calm. The sweet light of day had faded out and I saw flashes. Calming flashes of warm rays and dreams… were they dreams? Were they reality? Which way was up and how far was down. I drifted on. Rolling through all the pain and pleasure that life could give. There was no need for worry or pain… Or sorrow. I finally felt like I was floating along the silvery river of my dreams. ”Can you see it!? It’s right there in front of you…“ a voice from inside my heart spoke softly to me. It was only a distant prodding, but it was still as clear as a bell and beckoned me to reach my hand out and touch what I could only possess for a short time. I let my hand slip from my side… and drag across the sweet waters that flowed around me… I was snagged back with a jolt! Writhing and twisting my body flailed in the pull of the damp shirt on my back.
By Robert Helma3 years ago in Fiction
