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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426112" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Joys Of Waking</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When from camp bed cramp limbs I raise, <br>I never hesitate to praise<br>Lord Luck, loud laud and by degrees<br>attain crescendo! Nor bent knees, <br>nor moving lips, dumb witness lay<br>with supplication night or day, <br>convinced Fate’s finger points to please.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No reverential resignation<br>may undermine anticipation, <br>wish ill conceived, thought un expressed, <br>defensive mind-set, wants supressed.<br>Nowhere there’s sense of supplication -<br>for boundless strength spurns condemnation –<br>strength weakness spurns, by Fate twice blessed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No shapes and thoughts some others see <br>in anguish and in agony, <br>up-starting from some fiendish crowd<br>of rued regrets bewailed aloud, <br>spoil waking moments which new dawn<br>should welcome, hibernation torn.<br>No nightmares bets hedged, lead head bowed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ignoring sense of painful wrong<br>lights lurid, frightful trampling throng, <br>for rights I fight forthrightfully<br>weave justice into equity.<br>Desires with loathing strangely mixed, <br>on threatening fearful neighbours fixed, <br>are strangers, foreigners for me; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The clock of optimism ticks<br>to scorn manipulative tricks, <br>thirst for revenge with powerless will <br>allied both baffled, burning, still<br>are absent from life’s waking leap<br>as from soft coverlets eyes peep<br>at fresh ambitions to fulfill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though aims stay hidden, flames are bid<br>to temper soul’s steel, conquering Cid<br>fools suffers not, time spilt, guilt, woe, <br>all banished by the will to know<br>without confusion, waste of time, <br>the causal links that tune life’s chime<br>through strings slave puppet daren’t o’erthrow. <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some toss, nights lost, to vain dismay, <br>sad, stunted, stunned, numbed, waking day<br>fear to embrace. Electron free<br>on waves chromatic, joyfully, <br>I would advance from sleep to greet<br>sustained success, triumph complete, <br>repudiating apathy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some treat quite as catastrophe<br>night’s spite, when haunting phantoms free<br>range till cock’s crow wakes from dream’s page <br>strange sufferings which teem and rage<br>as migraine’s over-riding theme<br>denying sunshine’s balmy beam –<br>convicts convinced by self-made cage.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such punishments, I say, seem due<br>to twisted natures who simmer, stew<br>in their own fiery hell within<br>nocturnal sin sweat, fear to win.<br>Few slumber sound who can’t dispell<br>past problems from sleep tidal swell, <br>solutions positive can’t spin.<br> <br>Greet each day’s play with heart unbound, <br>send spirits soaring, life’s then found<br>to know no horrors, aims unmet, <br>grief-laden, puffy lids tear wet.<br>Whet appetite ambitious, fresh, <br>with surge momentous, motives mesh<br>succeed seed, speed feed freed, not fret.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life’s griefs on which most men agree, <br>will never, never fall on me, <br>to be beloved is all I need, <br>and whom I love, I love indeed.<br>I lose no sleep, solutions find<br>as wants with actions are combined<br>refreshed uniting thought and deed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jonathan+Robin">Jonathan Robin</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426112" data-title="The Joys Of Waking de Jonathan Robin" data-description="When from camp bed cramp limbs I raise, 
I never hesitate to praise
Lord Luck, loud laud and by degrees
attain crescendo! Nor bent knees, 
nor moving lips, dumb witness lay
with supplication night or day, 
convinced Fate’s finger points to pleas..."></div>
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