Claridges
The same discrete blue paper and the old quill pen still play
upon the mind to summon summer’s memories as day
melts darkling sky from dusty pink to inky undertones, -
extrapolating time’s ebb tide, when flesh fades from the bones.
How short will be the stay this time, so few have means to pay
a monthly wage within the compass of a weekend, - drones
disguised as business men of size who bore in monotones,
beneath ambitions buried deep to mask their hearts’ dismay.
The tasteful paper blue recalls those images of scones
and endless teas on sunny lawns - now concrete covers - hay
last harvested so long ago that only archived loans
remember that prosperity’s elastic silicone
pressed out upon b[l]uff surface, soon may wear, and tear or fray.
The phantom of King Credit past, now overdrawn and grey,
still stays in suite identical – though fax and telephone
add a touch of innovation to that décor so well known.
Yet despite the surface changes both cuisine and service stay
tailored to the highest standards, all the rules of taste obey.
© Jonathan Robin – poem written 1 October 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Jack Rubin
Rare was the spirit that has passed away,
Unfit the pen which inks its paper praise,
But few remain who knew him well. Time slays.
Insignificant our life, short Death's delay.
Now only his good works unite to say
Jack was both just and generous! His ways
Allied warmth, charm and acumen in phase,
Concern for others, loyalty. Yet may
Kindliness, philanthropy, dismay,
Rewards requiring, glitter, surface glaze.
Uncommon is the man whose many days
Bear witness with a beacon's constant ray.
In wit and sunny wisdom life he met,
Nor can one man more fair example set.
(28 February 1992)
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
Vote! | Copy!
Houghton's Bank
HOUGHTON'S BANK
Herd instinct wannabes beg bridge funds, but
Often, spendthrift, find requests for loans
Unsecured denied. Bank makes no bones
Grabbing from those who’d raise themselves from rut,
Hand extended, scored, endures deep cut,
Turns topsy-turvy projects, risk condones,
Obstructing time-vault access with crisp tones,
Neat writing on the wall cites scuttlebutt.
Banking’s a profession where the gut
Active role takes, stakes past winners, drones
Need putting in their place. Prudence postpones
Knackers’ needs, weeds, tightens screw, bolt and nut.
However write-offs rise as profits fall,
Because tight guidelines can’t encompass all.
13 July 1992 revised 2 January 2009
robi03_0581_robi03_0000 ASX_JXX
for previous version see below
Houghton's Bank
Here many beg to borrow money but
Offer scant security, their loans
Unjustly are denied and dialling tones
Grow silent, windows shuttered, when door’s shut.
Helping hand where proferred takes deep cut.
Trips many projects while it waste condones,
Opens not the time-vault, makes no bones
Nor panders to the poor trapped in their rut.
Banking’s a profession where the gut
A role should play to back the winner, drones
Need putting in their place, and thus new loans
Keep screw vice tight with prudent bolt and nut.
However, write-offs rise as profits fall,
Because tight guidelines can’t encompass all...
13 July 1992
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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!
Paper
Hold the paper up to the light
(some rays pass right through)
Expose yourself out there for a minute
(some rays pass right through)
Take a little rest when the rays pass through
Take a little time off when the rays pass through
Go ahead and mis it up...go ahead and tie it up
In a long distance telephone call
Hold on to that paper
Hold on to that paper
Hold on becuase its been taken care of
Hold on to that paper
See if you can fit it on the paper
See if you can get it on the paper
See if you can fit it on the paper
See if you can get it on the paper
Had a love affair but it was only paper
(some rays they pass right through)
Had a lot of fun, could have been a lot better
(some rays they pass right through)
Take a little consideration, take every combination
Take a few weeks off, make it tighter, tighter
But it was never, it was never written down
Still might be a chance that it might work out (if you)
Hold on to that paper
Hold on to that paper
Hold on because itll be taken care of
Hold on to that paper
Dont think I can fit it on the paper
Dont think I can get it on the paper
Go ahead and rip up, rip up the paper
Go ahead and tear up, tear up the paper
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Of My Youth
There was a time and place
Where I never thought
I'd leave my own home town
But those days are finally
Dead and gone
It was never my intention
To stay there oh no
There was a conscious effort
Played by me
To disown anything I see
There was a girl I knew
Way back when
Who says she doesnt know me anymore
These are the lies
The things you never mention
These are my past mistakes
I'll stay away from
These are my thoughts
Written down on paper
Its my only savior
For not saying
What I want to say
These are the thoughts
That are on my mind
Moments that havnt yet been defined
And I dont know if you
Could ever understand
These are the things I cant say
When we're alone
There were countless hours
On the telephone
My ears were ringing
From the dial tone
There was flashing lights
People staring
There was nothing I could ever do
These are the lies
The things that you never metion
These are my past mistakes
I'll stay away from
This is the truth
The only time you'll hear it
I'll write it down
Because it seems so hard to say it
These are my thoughts
Written down on paper
Its my only savior
From not saying
What I want to say
These are the thoughts
That are on my mind
Moments that havnt yet been defined
And I dont know
If you could ever understand
These are the things I cant say
When we're alone
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Almost There
Watch the paper window - see the stars
News and views to show you who you are
Keep the money moving change the scene
Open up the market with our dreams
Almost there - you and i
Catch the fall - touch the sky
Love a lot - paper view
Nows the time - make your move
Keep the money moving
As long as we are using
Almost without knowing
Getting egos burning
Freightend they stop turning
See the judge adjourning
Play your part and dont get in their way
Black and white they say you must believe
Now they found a sound that we obey
If you wait to long the tide will turn
Then therell be some brand new rules to learn
Almost there - you and i
Catch the fall - touch the sky
Love a lot - paper view
Nows the time - make your move
Read a million pages
Every headline ages
Nothing ever changes
Theres a time for laughing
Time will soon be passing
Make your mark before you fade away
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Within Each Mind
Within man's mind momentous energy
Is stored, in transit, waiting for the day
The karmic key found, masks may melt away.
However, in the meantime, blindly we
In turmoil stifle our intensity,
Nor seek to squeeze the secret of the Way.
Each in his cell lets cancer spread. Who may
Allow the soul to surface, forces free?
Creative links we keep confined, in fee,
Harnessed over lifetimes. Held at bay,
Mind and matter separated stay,
In abeyance: sad futility.
Nature’s codes Man may, one day, decrypt,
Dea[r]th death-blow dealing! Until then, dark crypt.
(21 October 1992/acrostic sonnet Within Each Mind)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rennes
RENNES
A Sunday lunch was set to greet
the stranger, who’d begot with child
an eldest daughter, sweet and mild.
They anxiously desired to meet
the man she hoped would never cheat,
by whom three years she’d been beguiled.
They little spoke, though surface-smiled,
uncertain how they had to treat
the situation, stayed discrete.
The time passed swiftly, nothing riled,
they comfort took, felt reconciled
to facts discussed without deceit.
He left. They felt relaxed, although
still wondered what next year would show.
21 October 1995
robi03_0784_robi03_0000 SXX_MOX
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Paper Kid
(walter martin cowart)
Cowboys and indians and trees he could climb
Tomorrow came too fast but he didnt mind
The distance was short so light it again
It dont take no time to get where I am
But one paper kid wasnt really so mean
Just a little bit scarred and a little bit green
And hed heard of a place it was legal to dream
So he sat with his coffee in a blue texas wind
And he wrote on a rock
The one paper kid is rollin again
Driver was drunk or he just didnt see
The future is there itll happen to me
And all the time that he wasted was his once again
Ah, it never takes long to get where youve been
Broken hearts scattered all over the past
Old bad memories trying to last
Whiskey and women and growing up fast
Fussing and loving and itching like grass
Hell that one paper kid wasnt really so mean
Just a little bit weird cause times were so lean
Now hes gone to a place where its legal to dream
No camels no coffee no cold morning winds
It was wrote on a rock
The one paper kid is rollin again
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ocean Blue
Well you took me home
And you took me back
But deep down inside
The feeling just died and i
Couldnt see why
From indigo to royal blue
I travel far but no one will do
Anytime, anyplace
Every shape every face
Brings memories of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Fair weather friends might drift away
When summer ends and skies burn grey
So I walk to the ocean
Pilot these shores
Just thinking of you
Its time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now on its strictly blue sky
Come rain and shine
The outlook is still fine
Im thinking of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean ocean
Ocean, ocean
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
I stand at the head of the queue
Theres mutinys every crew
Wishin and wonderin bout you
Ocean blue
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish with no tail
as i gaze out of nature... i have seen a fish without a tail
impossible but its true, first things came up to my mind
is, ask whether its worth to give time to remember all
the scene or perhaps, just a memories of a simple
goodbye
as the fish swim, deep beneath the crystal blue water, i
couldn't remember the minutes, the hours past, nay i felt
that i haven't taken my meal, it seems all are just a blink
of a second in my eyes
it keeps on bubbling, even in a thousands seconds it
stay in the water, until i notice that the fish fail to surface
beneath the running water, for the absence of the tail
the body is nothing
all is just a mirror of a fish that, every movement of the
body, the twist of the tail has to follow, its a paradox to
believe that we see the tail of other fish, nay never we
saw that we don't have tail of our own
like the fish it swim, with no direction, only an inspiration
that we can do, yet as it goes there we go, tail that swim
in the water stream with no affection of what to do
now i see, how to swim, in water, lou! where i may go...in
the world of stream when everybody is frame......
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Initial Attraction
What lies beneath the surface smile?
which you display to everyone?
The mask you wear to be in style.
What lies beneath is yours alone.
Does it indicate interest?
What lies beneath the surface smile?
And will I perhaps pass the test
enjoy your company for a while.
Is it a sign of practiced guile?
or simple act of self defence.
What lies beneath the surface smile?
Must I rely on my sixth sense?
My need to know grows more intense
I am prepared to wait awhile
to try and gain your confidence.
What lies beneath the surface smile?
(poeticpiers/20/07/2007)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burnt Paper
it is a cut-out paper
thin
delicate white
sharp
it is my world
apart from yours
i stay away from
rain
put my paper feet
on wood
as you pretend to be
the woman of
my pen
you touch
but what you touch is just
my paper
me
i have no more flesh
no bone
the years have eaten them
all
it cut-out from a shape
of your desire
i am burnt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moments Of Writing Poetry
Draft poems sometimes like
loose ripped off pieces of paper
to be drafted out roughly upon.
Draft poems hang around
in the strangest places waiting
to be written out one day.
Draft poems wait for a poet
to wake at the beginning of day
to be written out, in any
seized moments, sacrificed.
This is now time, shower time, eating time,
reflective time, conversation time, work time;
t.v. time, driving time, riding motorcycle time,
going to sleep time, cooking time, or any time.
Draft poems can only be written
in spared moments of seized time.
Draft poems can only be written today,
they will not wait for fair weather like hay,
which lays around waiting to be harvested.
Draft poems will not wait for a clear sunny day to dawn,
and then mature slowly, over a perfect golden summer.
Draft poems are ever now or never
if they are ever to be swiftly written.
A draft may possibly be perfected
upon any future day of favoured writing;
but a draft never written is a poem
never written, never completed, never known.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Like That You Stay
i like that you stay,
for a moment inside my room.
i will ask you, those little things
that you can do for me, so you will stay for a while
so i may have a smell of you
so i may see you even for a few seconds
so i may have life.
i ask you to pull the calendar page. It is not
october anymore. Time flies.
you display me the face of november. a sad one.
a face of uncompromising stance. Not not you. Not your love.
you may refuse my feelings, like the way you resist
some sweeter spaces between us. i like you.
i like you to stay even for a moment.
you flatten a crumpled piece of paper and you ask:
there is still something important on this page.
i look at it. some words, not supposedly written
some words, not to be read by anybody.
you read it. how can you understand?
when i always conceal the meaning
of my pain. i am only for me. I understand the rules
of this game.
i like you to stay really. i like you.
but then, i open the door and then you leave.
you have never understood, the silent beats
of my dying heart.
i like it this way. i touch myself still wanting to touch you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Return Of The Phantom Stranger
Shape shifting high
And a haunted eye.
Falling plastic and paper demons!
No trace of time,
Im branded sly,
I am your ghostmaster baby free me.
All you know,
Is alone,
You see a,
Phantom stranger!
Down you go,
All alone,
You love my,
Phantom strange!r
My sinister sounds
Sweep the grounds
Still-born I lie beneath it
I throw it away
The freaks all stay
Deformed and laughing screaming!
All you know,
Is alone,
You see a,
Phantom stranger!
Down you go,
All alone,
You love my,
Phantom stranger!
A wretched heart
In the dark decay,
Dominate forever...
Destroy the things you love
And see if I remember
All you know,
Is alone,
You see a,
Phantom stranger!
Down you go
All alone
You love my,
Phantom stranger!
song performed by by Rob Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stay For A While
Long time since Ive seen your smile,
But when I close my eyes,
I remember
You were no more than a child,
But then so was i,
Young and tender.
Time carries on;
I guess it always will,
But deep inside my heart
Time stands still.
Stay for awhile.
Well, its good to see your smile,
And I love your company.
Stay for awhile.
And remember the days gone by;
For a moment it can seem
Just the way it used to be.
Snowfalls, phone calls, broken hearts,
Clear summer days,
Warm and lazy;
Long walks, long talks, after dark;
We vowed wed never forget.
Now its hazy.
Time takes its toll,
And time alters our view.
It would be nice to
Spend some time with you.
Oh, stay for awhile.
Well, its good to see your smile,
And I love your company.
(oohhh) stay for awhile.
And remember the days gone by;
For a moment it can seem
Just the way it used to be.
Stay....
(please stay.)
Stay, stay, stay....
One, two, one, two.
Stay for awhile.
Well, its good to see your smile,
And I love your company.
(oohhh) stay for awhile.
And remember the days gone by;
Just the way it used to be.
Stay for awhile.
Oh, its good to see your smile,
And I love your company.
Wont you stay with me for awhile,
And remember the days gone by;
For a moment it can seem
Just the way it used to be.
(the way it used to be. be.......
The way it used to be, ooohhhh, aaaahhhhhh. ooooooooooooooh.
Now, now, now, now.... hoohhhhhh....)
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Tear's Candle
NEW TEAR'S CANDLE
Now here, now fled, bright light's soon snuffed, clock ticks,
E xistence fragile echoes with life’s play
W here visibility’s trimmed to today.
T ime up, ambitions down, as candle wicks
E xpire upon some midnight cold Fate picks.
A month or more, before horizons grey
R educe tired final flickers cinder gay, -
S pendthrift embers. Moving finger pricks
O ut bubble options, cares nor fiddlesticks
N or tinker’s curses for chance thrown away,
N or seeks reprieve for an extended stay. –
E phemeral our sojourn’s augenblicks.
T he loaf of bread, the flask of wine, boon mate,
S oon wane, recycled wax, evaporate.
1 January 2006 revised 8 September 2007
robi03_1400_robi03_0000 ASX_DEZ
Previous title New Tear's Sonnets
New Tear's Candle poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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