Sir Robin, a poem by Jay Mora-Shihadeh at
Paul Alnet

Sir Robin

Sir Robin

written by: Jay Mora-Shihadeh



I get lost in the quantum
I retract to the bottom
Dissuaded not from filth
I wait in precipitous fashion
Fear not I am a patient warrior
From a forest of a past Notting
Ham, I am Him. I sneak with precision
not thoughtless. Calculating blows
with feathers, I save the quills
for pleasure. Yet, I get lost
in quantum. A fallible foe, rightly so
will fear my lancet, my arrow, my bow.
I am the warrior who strikes at night
not light, nor day can stop my might.
I dissipate in mist of water, regain in
strength to save your daughter.
I get lost in the quantum, a levity
a misfortune, a history recorded.
The flotsam, the forgotten, a death.
A century not this. A warrior in parallels,
in forests, I get lost in this. The quantum.
Fear not. I am of you, I am of
him, I am of your bittered friend.
This knight of pebbled precision, waiting
to hasten the death, of a man’s battled greed
to fall the fiend of filth, the hand, the arm, the leg
the bastard brethren, of a brittle breed.
I seethe in furious quiet, a lasso tied in hand
I am, I am, I am. I am your mortal friend.
I get lost in the quantum.

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