Buffer Brain 1849
Dreams teem, spring from synaptic leap
before day's hustle bustle finds
employment for productive minds
far more contented when asleep.
When buffer brain retains thoughts deep
or fancies light, as rest unwinds,
they may be stored for many kinds
of interplay, rich harvests reap
when ploughed back, irrigation seep
which opens avenues, draws blinds,
encouragement staid braid unbinds
may reinforce joys shared and keep
enchantment ever underlined
to comfort through life's daily grind.
(30 January 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Thoughtwave Ode Meditation Light
Thinklings, winking, pattern energy
Here, there, there, here, no difference need make
Open, closed, or circular they stake
Unique claim with a time frame we
Grock into when it suits, or elsewhere flee.
How cycles spin? Mistakes repeat mistake
To twin with hidden truth asleep-awake
Which bide their time yet still abide, still see
A fractal fraction of eternity,
Vista vision appetites may slake,
Ends turn beginnings after double-take
Or give and take to catalyze to be.
Duet well met by moonlight, dawn is seen,
Each being all, all each, and in between
Magic glade where sunlight slants today
Enchants the inner eye's kaleidoscope,
Drives thoughts from thoughts to thoughts, expanding scope
In resonance with radiant display
That echoes through the intellect to play
A rune tune which reflects reflections Hope
Transforms from bud, bark, bowl, grass, leaf, to dope
Ideas, fears put to flight, as interplay
Opens, takes cue from Nature Fey,
New ground explores, doors opens, helps all cope.
LInks to synaptic tracks from verdant slope
Garner insight rich which, on the way,
Heal pollution in all senses, sends
The signal sought that all confusion ends.
Moonshine madness or an open book
imprinted with key code of cause, expect?
Rainbow skeins need braiding to effect
Real interactions earning second look.
Open anticipation's neurone hook
Reels waft and weft combines, twines, intersects.
New energies spontaneous, direct,
Effectoive focus finds, sheds gobbledygook
Unwinds conventions staid, that overlook
Real essentials, conflicts few correct.
One filter chaff from grain, detects defects
Nonsense, lies ife's books too often cooks.
Ideals respec, spurn rules' blind lines to find
Creative font retaining open mind.
(10 July 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rubaiyat of Sunset
Flamingo pink from cerulean skies
steals scene as softness on horizon lies,
as orange, ochre, overlay tints spray
rich scarlet add both to renew, surprise.
Adieu to hustle bustle, busy day,
farewell to competition's fruitless fray,
world waits in wonder, peace, with silver moon
suspended canvas caravanserai.
Selene scoffs at brazen show and soon
from zenith fallen hazy afternoon
links in and through reposing atmosphere
preparing for night's starry fingered rune.
As fitful flares begin to disappear,
birdsong falls silent, stealthy shadows near,
what may tomorrow bring, what changes ring
dreams may disclose beyond deep sleep's frontier.
31 January 2009
poem by Jonathan Robin
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My last kiss
I want kiss
a million Orphans
kiss and lick the tears
the blood clot
in their hearts
to sponge the bruises
in their thoughts
to tell them
that the rich
are nothing to pitch
that begging
is only a part time thing
that when the muscles
of their softest arms
hardens then the golden harvest
their motherland could harness
i want to kiss the blinds
and remove the blinds
that cling to their minds
and tell them sight
is not external,
but deep within the Creator
has dug the magic power for light
and colours and life miracles
to wake up them
from their buried remorses
I want to kiss them
to bloom a thousand roses.
poem by Lalitha Iyer
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A Distant Spring
I who love the Spring so well
Shall be sleeping, some glad day,
When her hosts come back to dwell
In their old, familiar way.
I shall live, alas! no more
In some distant April hour,
When the Spring finds wide her door,
Calling leaf, and bloom, and flower.
I shall sleep--but I shall dream
In my home beneath the ground,
And my slumbering heart shall teem
With its visions deep, profound.
I shall know, ere you will guess
(Though with life I have no part),
What new golden loveliness
Stirs within the old earth's heart.
I shall hear the first soft sound
When the Spring is born anew,
And rejoice, beneath the ground,
At the bliss to come to you.
And the dreams that I shall dream,
In that Spring when I am dead,
May arise until they seem
Blossoms white and blossoms red!
poem by Charles Hanson Towne
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Employment Goals Seek Attain Dreams
employment gives us options
employment creates opportunities
employment enhances meetings
employment demands responsibilities
employment provides relative incomes
employment pays plan budget bills
employment advocates option savings
employment allows stepping stones
employment wisdom attains rewards
employment goals seek attain dreams
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Fruits Of Sleep
the real job is to house-keep
what is not knee-deep
one knows how to leap
and go away from the sheep
the mountains are steep
more women shall weep
things simmer and seep
comes the time to reap
all the fruits of nice sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Garden Sunshine
GARDEN SUNSHINE
Garden which wild wilderness attested
Awash with colours now greets eye-in-dream.
Rich profusion prospers unprotested,
Dragonflies hover, honeybees here teem,
Enchants with wonder, pleasure uncontested,
Nature's splendour welcoming sun's beam.
SUNdry blooms here groomed, there random seem,
SHINE, rain, remain inspiring and unbested.
Grass lawn graceful, verdant, uncongested,
Assuages anguish. Nearby silver stream
Rich irrigation adds, as swan, glebe crested
Drift on lazy current. Joy supreme.
Evergreen and annuals unmolested
No high walls know, turn mind from urban theme.
SUNset scarlets, strawberry dawn scheme
SHIft NEts of light, draw cheerful robin nested.
acrostic GARDEN SUNSHINE 20 January 2009
robi03_1843_robi03_0000 AXX_NXX
Garden Sunshine poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clocking In
CLOCKING IN
CLOCKING IN
Are clocks recording time and tide
alone to measure difference?
Do biorythms coincide
between two souls? do they divide?
Front_tears, faint sitting on the fence,
too often sunder when inside
at odds with outside masks pretence.
Where minds unite crunched clock relents,
where'er they fight, punched clock laments,
where peace at heart is shared abide
complementary developments,
rich trust which rings true tested, tried.
Whose shelter's backed by barricade
of self stays far too much afraid.
9 January 2009 revised 11 March 2010
robi03_1837_robi03_0000 SXX_LZX
9 January 2009
robi03_1837_robi03_0000 SXX_LZX
Clocking In Poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aura of Felicity
He meets by chance he’ll ever bless
a maiden, and some hidden hand
unveils an inner loveliness
too few take time to understand.
Time stands stock still, clock can't progress,
as second sight's embracing strand
second-thoughts disbands - caress
sends shivers through pores which expand.
His promise, through her presence, grows
to match the merits in her eyes,
to blushing envy turns flush rose
acknowledging true Paradise.
They flow together, former woes -
in ways no verse may summarize -
replaced by links no blinds can close
metamorphosis supplies.
Thought trains awake dreams skeins asleep,
her aura haunts him day and night,
one image still will senses sweep
with wonder, worship, and delight.
Warm aura rippling, rich and deep,
excites, incites to more insight,
love's neurones bridge synaptic leap
like salmon fording stream, scales bright.
Drawn by strong dreams nightlong he longs –
most humble where he most aspires –
to offer sacred, secret songs
to her he honours and desires
where 'we belong' may know no wrongs,
all echoes joy's celestial choirs,
where happiness itself prolongs,
no guarantees, no pleas requires.
Her graces make him rich. He’d ask
no golden ring engraven while
he may not prove himself to task
the equal of that precious smile.
Meanwhile would pleasure find and bask
in soft reflection, reconcile
hopes, fears, fears, hopes, and, shedding mask,
beguiled by feelings versatile.
He aims to catch flame's eye, perform
some labour, famed reward immense,
anticipates ways to transform
bright bloom in new-born innocence
to future shared, trust crystal clear.
Hope holds key to true happiness.
He trembles, mixing joy and fear,
would stand beside her, nothing less...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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You Are The Sky
You are the sky
I always look upon.
You are the sky
I always speak to
about everything in myheart
my wishes
my hopes
my joys
my sorrows.
You are the sky...
'though speechless
you give me comfort
in times of too much stress
in my daily life.
You are the sky...
someday I will join you
when the gate of eternity
opens for me.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reasons
REASONS
If all the world were sparkling sun,
and all well finished once begun,
then I would wish upon a dream
with you as Queen, play perfect team.
If every bat could score home run,
if mice and men could plan their fun,
if every sparkle held a gleam
to light true thinklings till they teem,
If skies were blue, if banned were gun
if wonder, too, though shared eyes shone,
then hand in hand we would redeem
lost time and rhyme with flowing scheme.
But time and tide alas adds care
and age turns gravewards flower fair,
so show more reasons why I should
as squire dreams fire through ill and good?
Can brand new world new words prepare?
Will there be space to 'stop and stare'?
rare faith in flight where man, maid might
scare wraith, sin, blight, prayer scan, braid light?
January 19 2007
robi03_1578_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
Poem © Jonathan Robin Reasons
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sonnet- God's Creation Is Good
Each flower has some nectar for each Bee;
Each flower has some beauty rather deep;
Each flower has some perfume that is free;
Each flower makes the observer's heart leap.
All religions have good precepts to give;
All religions depict God's love for men;
All religions help mankind better live;
All religions show men way to Heaven.
We ought to take the good things in our life;
We ought to shun all evil thoughts and deeds;
We ought to face in life all kinds of strife;
We ought to plant, to reap better, good seeds.
God made all things with definite purpose,
Expecting man's soul come back in pure dress.
poem by John Celes
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Grind
Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind
I can bend in sixty-eight ways
I have lived for twelve thousand days
Twenty-eight teeth inside my head
Grind three types of things and I'm sad that they're dead
Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Uninspiring Labor
Another morning of meandering
Through emptiness and the nothing forces
Which magnetize my nonsense panderings
And magnify my lack of resources:
My mental nourishment, my life-stream's flow
That, right now, is in drought, thus preventing
My fertile thought harvests the will to grow.
For what reason hinders my inventing
Further irrigation of the parched land,
Thirsty for the tapping of the well-spring?
What repels the iron-rich soil in hand
From being ripe for future prospering?
I dig and toil at the dirt with no spade,
My hands buried in the hole I have made.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Silence
Away from hustle and bustle
Of the crowded town
Try and seek something deep
Enhancing an inner uplift
Rather than let you down.
Listen to your quiet Self
Be therein as long as you can
Welcoming the warmth and the quietness
Of thoughts, and emotions brought.
Practise it every now and then...
(May 2010)
poem by Maria C. Costa
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Moveing Things (feat. Master P And Samm)
I keeps a nine in my draws cause you know I like to ball nigga I ain't warren
G but sometimes I want it al flip half into a whole make a once into a brick
get it for $16 $5 me and muy niggas we onna be rich put them 20's on my benz
so you know I got some ends keep your eyes on your enemies and nigga watch
your friends seen the game it shyatie I got some niggas that don't like me
tell the ghettos trying to kill me, and the feds wanna indite me, on a murder I
didn't do, I'm still thugin with my crew, cause once you snitch your threw, if
you hustle then you true, but you live for the sh*t, but you die for the
clique', sle your soul to get rich, then run your mouth like a b*tch
(chorus) I know my man is moving things, (not a 5 baby, I got a job baby) that
one day my niggas gonna change (all the time baby I'm on the grind baby) repeat
1x !
Nigga we hustle the streets so it's like f*ck the police,my enemies don't
wanna see a nigga go up his feets, I got the crom for the hatas, and birds on
the table, give my life for the niggas and we splitting the paper, and say
thugging is the secret that help a nigga ball, O-Z's flippin quick and the cling
never fall, the grind got us strap with nines on our laps, crime is a trap,
choppin dimes and crap, henesi got your mind, if you slip you might give us
time, but I'm fighting for mine, if I die in this game, send my soul to God,
don't make it mine in this game eventhough it's hard
(chorus) repeat 3x's
song performed by by 504 Boyz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After The Snow
After the snow, comes the rain
to wash it all away again,
revealing all that it concealed
the greenery and the unsightly feel.
Gone is the beauty the snow brought,
the silence and our quiet lot.
Back to the hustle and bustle
that dominate our lives.
Disappeared that slow pace
upon our lives the snow did grace.
16 January 2010
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Synaptic Dream Scrabble Stash
Dreams bring string themes for thoughts caught in blind flash,
Enchantment, nightmare fears, beyond time's veil.
Much past, some present, future fair or fail,
Links stored sub-surface in synaptic stash.
Insight's flights can scan creation. Clash!
World wakes! swirled search unslaked - there lies a tale
Of fairies, dragons, daily purchase, sale
Refused, approved, in limbo, mind's cache
Seeks sleeps return to peep through truth's mish-mash,
Advice clear seeking, films night's neuron mail.
New facettes, gleaming, stream subconscious scale
Gleaned from imagination's brain-wave splash.
Dreamplay transforms day's greys to rainbow sash
Evaporating empty phantoms pale,
Multi-coloured visions never stale,
Leaves boring chores here for adventures brash,
Ideal idyll there, to cut a dash
While speeding spirit fills dreamboat's full sail
On open ocean offering hope's grail
Real scope, feels grace denying daily lash,
Speed-reads between life-lines, shu[n]ts cut and slash
Away as contradictions fade or flail.
Now spring prevails, mocks fixed rails, founds fresh trail
Gains momentum, phoenix flies from embers, ash.
Word worlds scrabbled whirl unscrambled rehash
Once hidden memories as dreams exhale
Revived ambitions, aims released on bail,
Deep sleep follows lost primaeval tracks
Greeting hidden relevations, packs
A universe no censorship can gaol,
Moves mountains, fountains frees, sees each detail,
Egged on unyoked as Ahab white whale tracks.
So phases paradoxical sleeps stacks
Novel treasured pleasure meaured by mind's cracks
Invites insight into both fiction, facts,
Laces sing-song sense up hill down dale.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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That Successful Bat - Acrostic
Most waste youth's day in hasty way for fruits age finds are folly,
And seldom take the time to slake, to savour Time until too late.
Rose blooms in May, has passed away when boughs are decked with holly.
It therefore seems, despite blinds schemes that Man dreams up to counter fate,
Each must essay the game to play in full when young and jolly.
Just measures to determine through experience often frustrate,
Or seem delay that cannot pay – thus lead to melancholy.
Sincerely though, if Truth you’d know, stand back awhile to calculate
Each interplay of facts which may assist a valid volley
Ensuring that successful bat which makes Life’s innings scintillate.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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