After the Carnival - Apres la Fete
The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way,
clowned senseless as an ass's bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.
Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there's no energy to pray.
Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.
That one's posterity will stay
when life's departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over, May
to Winter bows, Spring may not stay -
its darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.
For previous version revised 21 May 2005 see below
Life's Carnival swift sinks soon drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain,
clowns stride stage, pine, pain, soon lie slain.
Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures' knives -
which often with ‘success' connive.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain's then proved vain
when gain proves dross, and loss insane.
Dunce bee, once drawn to wicket flame,
no curtain call can still sustain, -
another worker t[r]icked from hive
which will remain no less alive.
For previous version revised 29 April 2005 see below
The Carnival is over. Drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to the ground rules lain.
Although some for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures' knives -
which often with ‘success' connive.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain's then proved vain.
Bee, moth, attracted to wick'd flame,
no curtain call will long retain,
another worker ticked from hive
which still remains no less alive.
(29 December 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Après la Fête
Après la Fête
Life's Carnival swift sinks soon drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain,
clowns stride stage, pine, pain, soon lie slain.
.
Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures’ knives -
which often with ‘success’ connive.
.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain’s then proved vain
when gain proves dross, and loss insane.
.
Dunce bee, once drawn to wicket flame,
no curtain call can still sustain, -
another worker t[r]icked from hive
which will remain no less alive…
13 October 1988 revised 29 April 2005 and 29 December 2010
robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
For previous version see below and After the Carnival robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllll
AFTER THE CARNIVAL
The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way,
clowned senseless as an ass’s bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.
.
Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there’s no energy to pray.
.
Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.
.
That one’s posterity will stay
when life’s departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over, May
to Winter bows, Spring may not stay -
its darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.
4 November 1992 revised 21 May 2005 and 29 December 2010
robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
see Après la Fête robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllll
APRES LA FETE
The Carnival is over. Drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to the ground rules lain.
Although some for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures’ knives -
which often with ‘success’ connive.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain’s then proved vain.
Bee, moth, attracted to wick’d flame,
no curtain call will long retain, -
another worker ticked from hive
which still remains no less alive...
13 October 1988 revised 29 April 2005
robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
After the Carnival
AFTER THE CARNIVAL
The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way,
clowned senseless as an ass’s bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.
.
Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there’s no energy to pray.
.
Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.
.
That one’s posterity will stay
when life’s departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over, May
to Winter bows, Spring may not stay -
its darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.
4 November 1992 revised 21 May 2005 and 29 December 2010
robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
see Après la Fête robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
Après la Fête
Life's Carnival swift sinks soon drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain,
clowns stride stage, pine, pain, soon lie slain.
.
Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures’ knives -
which often with ‘success’ connive.
.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain’s then proved vain
when gain proves dross, and loss insane.
.
Dunce bee, once drawn to wicket flame,
no curtain call can still sustain, -
another worker t[r]icked from hive
which will remain no less alive…
13 October 1988 revised 29 April 2005 and 29 December 2010
robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
For previous version see below and After the Carnival robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
AFTER THE CARNIVAL
The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way
as senseless as an ass’s bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.
Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there’s no energy to pray.
Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.
That one’s posterity will stay
when life’s departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over. May
to Winter bows, Spring shall not stay, -
the darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.
4 November 1992 revised 21 May 2005
robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
see Après la Fête robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
Après la Fête
The Carnival is over. Drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain.
Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures’ knives -
which often with ‘success’ connive.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain’s then proved vain.
Dunce bee, once drawn to wicket flame,
no curtain call can long sustain, -
another worker t[r]icked from hive
which will remain no less alive…
13 October 1988 revised 29 April 2005
robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
For previous version see below and After the Carnival robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
n.b. wicket, wicked wick et (and in French)
Après la Fête
The Carnival is over. Drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
what once was certain now seems vain.
Another worker leaves the hive,
which is, itself, no less alive.
13 October 1988
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Calculations Fail
Can knowledge any sense in life retain?
All trace in space must some day disappear.
Life's calculations fail, ambitions vain.
Colours, now magic, soon no longer here
Unknown sounds, scents tomorrow shall remain.
Love's lightning, having struck, moves on, a mere
After-ripple on time's wave, cleansed clear.
The struggle ceases, Lethe, down the drain
Is every trace flushed before we can gain
One insight on Life's mysteries, or steer
New trips through dreams, few dreams themselves appear
Sense bearing whose waft, weft, need never wane.
FAll follows pride, soul weighed by feather light,
ILl starred our ride, bright spark mid endless night.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homerun - 1060
From dark to light one cry.
cot, tot, fine whine, youth tries
to rise, outshine, strength vies
to test itself far, nigh,
will ever improvise,
wings spread ahead would fly
beyond the common sty.
Ends, means, some justify
as tools to fool, win prize
refusing to downsize
goals which new goals supply,
to grow, while enterprise
won't sit, knit idly by
would flow to know, apply.
See sun at zenith high
where fair sweep cloudless skies,
fragility belies.
Self on self will rely
And thus we compromise
ourselves, each hour thereby
prepares grief leaf's demise.
Men, weak 'how, what, when, why'
seek to deny, despise
as limits while each eyes
ambitions run awry.
Most fail to realize
fame's flame soon sinks, falls shy
of promise time can't buy.
Stagnation by and by
sets in, transforms to ties
what once soared free, - denies
rights others seek would lie,
Inventing alibis
inverting truth stain, dye,
strain, pain, until sparks die.
Still time will onward fly!
Few care to recognize
sunset whet hopes defies,
dare not, with rules comply,
scope set cut down to size.
With humour grim and wry
Fate on each whim may spy.
Life's voyage does imply
page after page time tries
to crop or circumsize,
each stage a wager sly
as cause, effect, in guise
of free choice voice deny
to unborn options! Why?
Tide turns, Time's spring runs dry.
The candle burns. The wise,
the fool, fourscore, fade, rise
no more, till final cry
whose sense none can disguise.
No echo, no reply.
from light to dark, sole sigh.
(9 February 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Twentieth Success
This, the hive of success,
that of which one has no choice
but remain happy.
As a manifestation of ones dreams.
In the midst of struggle,
success emerges,
the pain of hassle is gone for good,
The memory of the hard times is lost.
Praise is in the lips of the joyful
No more pain, they hope.
in the twentieth day of sorrow,
Pain turns to Joy.
Remain in Success.
poem by Jackson Nyoho
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballade Of Truisms
Gold or silver, every day,
Dies to gray.
There are knots in every skein.
Hours of work and hours of play
Fade away
Into one immense Inane.
Shadow and substance, chaff and grain,
Are as vain
As the foam or as the spray.
Life goes crooning, faint and fain,
One refrain:
'If it could be always May!'
Though the earth be green and gay,
Though, they say,
Man the cup of heaven may drain;
Though, his little world to sway,
He display
Hoard on hoard of pith and brain:
Autumn brings a mist and rain
That constrain
Him and his to know decay,
Where undimmed the lights that wane
Would remain,
If it could be always May.
YEA, alas, must turn to NAY,
Flesh to clay.
Chance and Time are ever twain.
Men may scoff, and men may pray,
But they pay
Every pleasure with a pain.
Life may soar, and Fortune deign
To explain
Where her prizes hide and stay;
But we lack the lusty train
We should gain,
If it could be always May.
Envoy
Time, the pedagogue, his cane
Might retain,
But his charges all would stray
Truanting in every lane -
Jack with Jane -
If it could be always May.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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No Pain No Gain
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine, mark hudson
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
Face in the gutter eyes on the floor
Walk on down you know the score
It's a dead-end street back to the wall
Get it together you can get it all
The weak will fall the strong remain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
No time for losers you make the call
Believe in yourself stand tall
Another day it's in your hand
You can be the winner in the end
The weak will fall the strong remain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
Keep runnin' don't look back
Keep movin' straight ahead
Keep goin' don't ever stop
There's time to rest the day you'll drop
You roll the dice you play the game
The weak will fall the strong remain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
No pain no gain
...
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Days
Girl i can't abide
By the rules you laid down in this game
'cause now i've gone and lost myself in you
One time you catch a ride
And it takes you miles away
There's a chance of never feeling blue
And those lonely days will be long time forgotten
If we could find another way
Now let's contemplate is this time of passion
Strong enough to make you stay
Because i do believe in forever
And forever i will stay
And those lonely days will remain
Miles and miles away
Emotional exile
Is the safest way to play
Gotta take a chance every now and then
Irresistible change of heart
I will guide your way
We could share a life again
And those lonely days will be long time forgotten
If we could find another way
Now let's contemplate is this time of passion
Strong enough to make you stay
Because i do believe in forever
And forever i will stay
And those lonely days will remain
Miles and miles away
Miles and miles away
Miles and miles away
Miles and miles away
Miles and miles away....
(repeat)
Girl i can't abide
By the rules you laid down in this game
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Days to Come
IN DAYS TO COME
In days to come when, dumb, I’ll strum no more
rhymed witness to timed world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest unblessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections poet pours
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ scores
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Self is both root and cause of fatal flaws.
My memory, wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
may shadow search vain answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 revised 16 November 2006 and 25 March 2009
robi03_1257_robi03_0000 SXX_DIZ
for previous versions see below variant of Unjaded Sparkle 6 July 1991
In Days to Come
In days to come when, dumb, I’ll bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006 revised 23 November 2008
- for previous versions see below
In Days to Come
In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
For most wor[l]d-wise, ignoring one demise,
Life bright or boring as before, - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think on the pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions, one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget their first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006
for previous version see below
In Days to Come
In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time fair witness, world where butterflies
aloft dance marbled patterns in the skies -
next May, when I’ll have sunk to rest before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
Life will appear to who these verses buys
as bright or boring as before, - here lies
the irony, reflections one would pour
in ink upon the pixel pages’ score.
Ambitions fade, and libido, too, sighs
when hopes unmet one cannot realize, -
within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
Life will for me be candle lost to flame,
for others, search for answers to its game.
20 May 2005
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: When
When trust is lost, how can things move forward?
When love is lost, how can friendship remain?
When hope is lost, living remains awkward;
When fairness lost, most men could turn insane!
When wealth is lost, it could be well regained;
When health is lost, life is only a bane;
When virtues lost, nothing is truly gained;
When peace is lost, dialogue must start again.
When mind is lost, how can one ever feign?
When man is lost, to trace him is quite sane;
When Will is lost, no man can live or reign;
When God is lost, all things we do in vain.
When soul is lost, the fear of Hell awaits,
And fail do we to enter Heaven’s gates!
8-11-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Compromise Culture 1449
Culture based on listless lackeys tries
exploiting basic instincts, fails to thrive.
Conniving skyvers harm harmonious hive,
antagonistic feast, with furtive eyes
divided between jealousy, surprise.
Mediocrity sets goals but can't survive,
stagnating or backtracking, must contrive
expedience, manipulation, lies,
losing face, disgrace must realize
that fragile struggles, space to stay alive,
depends much less on effort or on drive
than selflessness that spurns sly compromise.
Priorities protecting selfish rights
sacrifice ethics, signal sleepless nights.
Fragility in public sphere is found
duplicated in the population;
lopsided give and take's mistaken, bound
to fail time's test upon examination.
Temptation stretches tentacles across
vital societal fabric, leaves one wan,
alone to draw protective veil while boss
whips wealth, strips health from poor, whose tale's soon done.
Persuasion's kin is rank manipulation
of mind or vote. Too few intact remain.
Who'd rock the boat's confined in isolation,
cost high, salvation lost, what salves their pain?
Vulnerable today, tomorrow seems
to rend men mediocre from spent dreams.
(13 May 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time's Tide
Those cause/effect relations seek to investigate
ask why life’s lamentations can’t flow past pearly gate,
why can’t hope’s expectations some sects anticipate
show we’re wheeled incarnations, frustrations, fears, negate
Why worry what tomorrow may offer if at all,
share laughter, spurning sorrow, ignoring wailing wall,
each wakes one day, hopes hollow, must piper pay as shawl
in winding sheet few follow, no trumps for final call.
Time's tide has been extended beyond the sands of hope,
free ride from heyday ended, frayed tether, broken rope,
recount lost time expended, events' ghost mirage grope,
as most proud man intended black hole's Time's telescope.
Bright spark - life's candle gutters - so swiftly movements cease,
one cry before heart flutters, before 'Here rests in peace! '
one sigh then parting’s shutters are drawn with no surcease,
one dies while crowd bread butters inheritance apiece.
In youth great expectations mask ignorance - a vice -
few meet anticipations, most, sour, scower at Fate’s dice.
life’s joke is on Creation’s head, ne’er repeated twice,
one innings: vindications leave after-thoughts to lice.
Behind lie verses threaded, skeins sense retains in vain,
life's loves too soon are bedded by Fate immune to pain.
life’s gloves too soon are shredded by thorny greed for gain,
‘Above’ is concept wedded to fear, none bat again.
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0922_robi3_0000 XXX_CDZ 2 January 2001 revised 22 December 2008 for previous version see below
Time's Tide
Some cause/effect relations
would understand and splice -
what wall of lamentations
may give a game played twice?
Why care Creation's date to play -
the aeons ebb and flow, -
Man wakes one day with price to pay,
and nowhere left to go.
Time's tide has been extended
beyond the sands of hope,
the time for games has ended,
what trumps remain, what scope?
In youth great expectations
masked ignorance - a vice -
of how anticipations
can sour at throw of dice.
A spark, - life's candle gutters -
so swiftly mouvements cease.
One cry before heart flutters,
before 'Here rests in peace! '
Luck's tithe has been expended,
no slack remains, the rope
draws tight 'spite rules once bended
to ease life's line, to cope.
And like these verses threaded
in skein sense would retain,
Life's loves too soon are bedded
by Fate immune to pain.
2 January 2001
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hardest Part Is The Night (live, Japan)
In the heat of the street of the city
A young boy hides the pain
And he walks so tall, trying to hang on
But he knows he's going down again
I know he's going down...
Darkness fades he's the prince of his city
In a place where they all know your name
You can see in their eyes life so paralyzed.
Your just a pawn in a losin' game
You lose at life it ain't no game
Hear their cries
The hardest part is the night
(In the night, hear their cries, in the night)
Stay alive
The hardest part is the night, it's the night, it's the night...
All alone in a place where the lonely
They all have to walk through the rain
And they dance on the edge where you only
Only pray that it has to end
That the night ain't no friend
Hear their cries
The hardest part is the night
(In the night, hear their cries, in the night)
Stay alive
The hardest part is the night, it's the night, it's the night...
(X 2)
These four walls they could tell you some stories
About lying and dying and fame
There's a price that you pay for the glory
About losing and choosing and pain.
Hear their cries
The hardest part is the night
In the night, hear their cries, in the night
Stay alive
In the night, stay alive, in the night
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do not tell a lie
Do not tell alie
If you want to
remain away
from chickenpox.
De not tell a lie
If you want to
remain here with me
in this truthful fort.
Forward yourself
with all forswear
you are not here
to remain here
and you are here
to remain here.
Forsooth forgetfulness
and forgiveness
makes us alive.
Foreclose that are
on our road of belief.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homerun
HOMERUN
From dark to light – one cry.
cot, tot, fine whine, youth tries
to rise, outshine, – strength vies
to test itself far, nigh,
will ever improvise,
wings spread ahead would fly
beyond the common sty.
Ends, means, some justify
as tools to fool, win prize
refusing to downsize
goals which new goals supply,
to grow, while enterprise
won’t sit, knit idly by
would flow to know, apply.
See sun at zenith high
where fair sweep cloudless skies,
fragility belies.
Self on self will rely
And thus we compromise
ourselves – each hour thereby
prepares grief leaf’s demise.
Men, weak “how, what, when, why”
seek to deny, despise
as limits while each eyes
ambitions run awry.
Most fail to realize
fame’s flame soon sinks, falls shy
of promise time can’t buy.
Stagnation by and by
sets in, transforms to ties
what once soared free, - denies
rights others seek would lie,
Inventing alibis
inverting truth stain, dye,
strain, pain, until sparks die.
Still time will onward fly!
Few care to recognize
sunset whet hopes defies, -
dare not, with rules comply, -
scope set cut down to size.
With humour grim and wry
Fate on each whim may spy.
Life’s voyage does imply
page after page time tries
to crop or circumsize -
each stage a wager sly
as cause, effect, in guise
of free choice voice deny
to unborn options! ... Why?
Tide turns, Time’s spring runs dry.
The candle burns. The wise,
the fool, fourscore, fade, - rise
no more, till final cry
whose sense none can disguise.
No echo, no reply...
from light to dark, sole sigh.
9 February 2005
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Homerun Poem © Jonathan Robin
see also Homespun
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HOMESPUNBirth Mirth Worth Girth Dearth Earth Berth
From dark to light – one cry, homespun.
Cot, tot, fine whine, youth vies at last
to rise, to shine, – strength tries so fast
to test itself far, nigh, to run
above the common sty or scrum,
tries stratagems devised to cast,
with sun at zenith high, shade vast, ...
ignores Time fleeting by. The sum?
Who fools are, who are wise, succumb.
Who true, who in disguise, outlast
the dreaded drum’s surprise, stand fast
can further innings try? Soon dumb!
Come night, tomb stark, done, lie forgot, – time spun
From light doom dark one sigh, poor lot, – rhyme done!
20 January 2005
robi03_1057_robi03_0000 SXX_DZX
see also Homerun
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Homes pun Poem © Jonathan Robin
:)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Failures
When failures come, oh, do not fret;
For failures, you must not regret;
Through failures, one can turn perfect,
As failure isn’t a great defect!
Each failure gives us chance again;
Through failures, we have much to gain;
So, failures are a boon, not bane;
Yes, failures make a man much sane!
All cannot win in life always;
Set-backs do come to us some days;
With failures, one makes strong a base;
Our failures bestow bolder face!
With failures come, added wisdom;
’Tis hard to hold a large kingdom;
Failures in life are much welcome,
As successes will always come.
Failures help us to love God more;
Failures are winning signs in core;
Failures can open newer door;
Failures can take us to the fore!
Which man on earth had always won?
With rain, there comes a brighter sun;
With failures, one can have much fun;
Failures aid us to faster run!
Failures can help us fare better;
Failures aren’t man’s strongest fetter;
Failures are just a trend-setter;
Failures make us a win-getter!
By failures, one can stop awhile;
Through failures, you run longer mile;
Failures do not remain life’s bile;
Failures help us finish in style!
Failures help us see truth again;
Failures remove the pride and feign;
Failures help us take newer lane;
Failures help us win in the main!
Through failures, we begin again,
And success smiles, easing out pain!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-17-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time's Up (Dust Mix)
[spoken style]
wake up, face the future
cause I feel I have to salute you
on the things that's goin on, in this world today
you can run, but you can't hide
you have to find your sense of pride
to let you know, that this world, will never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
brothers and sisters, grab a hold
there's a story solid as gold
we must try to stay alive
we must strive, and never slip away
where there's sunshine, there is rain
where there is joy there will be pain
we must move, m?--? move
we must move, and never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
yo yo my brother my brother
let me lay it on the downstroke
I want you to know that I will provoke
anything that life will bring
because within these words I have a antidote
the time is comin' for the song that I'm hummin'
to let you know it's later than it's ever been
your time is up, you sad faced clown
now here's da breakdown (da breakdown, da breakdown, da breakdown)
[sung vocals]
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin
it is later, it is later, it is later, than it's ever been
keep on movin', and grab a hold
the life you livin', must have control
we can do it, we can do it, we can do it, if we try
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin-a
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sun Is Yet To Appear
With all its mighty show, the Sun is yet to appear
I sleep on my cot without any fear
Eyes still look sharp at the sky
Remains very much enthusiastic and ready to fly
The village life is not at all dull
It is not artificial but natural
All trees are now about to come alive
As birds make their move to strive
First signal of cuckoo reminds me of concert
Where audience is learned and known as an expert
Here there is no such preparation of any kind
Yet everything beats to rhythm and one may always find
Calves make desperate call for their mother
I am sure of their meal time to bother
Little wind blows up the roof top
I come to the sense and hurriedly get up
The farm house is made for both of us
We are love birds and hence silently trust
Remain away from city life and near to nature
This is all I can say about our future
I may hear her foot steps in the farm house
That may accelerate heart beats and arouse
I need not call her by any name and welcome
She knows well when to go and come
As life has never been stagnated
Our love was from self and really originated
It was never to be revealed or stated
As we were to remain away and totally unrelated
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time's Up
wake up, face the future
cause I feel I have to salute you
on the things that's goin on, in this world today
you can run, but you can't hide
you have to find your sense of pride
to let you know, that this world, will never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
brothers and sisters, grab a hold
there's a story solid as gold
we must try to stay alive
we must strive, and never slip away
where there's sunshine, there is rain
where there is joy there will be pain
we must move, m?--? move
we must move, and never decay
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
yo yo my brother my brother
let me lay it on the downstroke
I want you to know that I will provoke
anything that life will bring
because within these words I have a antidote
the time is comin' for the song that I'm hummin'
to let you know it's later than it's ever been
your time is up, you sad faced clown
now here's da breakdown (da breakdown, da breakdown, da breakdown)
[sung vocals]
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin
it is later, it is later, it is later, than it's ever been
keep on movin', and grab a hold
the life you livin', must have control
we can do it, we can do it, we can do it, if we try
It is later, than it's ever been
the life you livin', try not to sin
it is later, it is later, it is later, than it's ever been
keep on movin', and grab a hold
the life you livin', must have control
we can do it, we can do it, we can do it, if we try
[spoken style]
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up (time's up)
It's later than it's ever been, time's up, in this world, today
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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