Firewalls
Adapt to writing on the wall,
respond, react not, and recall
that Nature tries to overturn
the status quo, so learn to spurn
rigidity which all in all loses touch with base.
Some species rise to swiftly fall,
lose ground to others, Nature's call
plays games with all as cycles turn,
return to nothingness and burn
idols which before Time's squall held pride of place.
Yet Nature's churning free-for-all
recuts Life's cards, acts to forestall
stagnation as new species learn
to thrive from niche advantage, earn
some space to find the wherewithal to old replace.
Observe the Himalayan wall
trace trilobites in steep Nepal
call all to witness, deep discern,
the folly mind-sets rigid yearn
adjourning evolution, stall 'to save the race'.
All systems needing overhaul
at any time tend to install
firewall tools, or sempiterne
defensive mechanisms burn
their bridges, fall self-defeating victims to Time's chase.
Omar Khayyam assured 'The ball
no questions asks' both great and small,
iron clad, fruit fly, must return
to dust from dust, as atoms earn
a chance to dance again with grace.
(28 April 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wafer
The Present: a nano-thin wafer wall
on which we wanderers waiver, stall
for time - waifs small on ant-heap tall -
soon turned to ashes spurned, shred shawl
on which we pile from fast Past’s dust,
rich dream state which maintains its thrall
to spell Man’s time-plan wherewithal -
framework contextual all-in-all.
This transient recorded scrawl
upon the wall of fate thus must
seem progam which can disinstall
itself when system crashes - fall
whose ripples often waterfall
from chaos and beginnings small -
an ore shawl for next cycle’s rust –
from an apparent free-for-all,
create conditions for long haul,
new ball-game to begin it all
again and open options call.
There is no suit, no overcall,
no certitudes test stand, no trawl
to net immortal treasure haul
reducing time's hands to a crawl,
no trumps to draw nor hand to bust,
no eth[n]ic insight to recall
Fate's finger witness to forestall
mortal misgivings’ babble brawl.
Time 's spin yin yang spurs Future’s ball
which strays yet heedless stays withal,
ever in need of overhaul.
We wonder why fate's fleet footfall
ignores far, near, star dear, fear, trust,
quite unconcerned with mortal pall,
oblivious to the rise and fall
of Man’s un-echoed caterwaul.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Return!
RETURN, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn--
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmed praying hands that meet and yearn--
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Naught but that votive sign for thy return--
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No wither'd welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famish'd fire that lived to burn--
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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She Touches A Sad String Of Soft Recall
Return, return! all night my lamp is burning,
All night, like it, my wide eyes watch and burn;
Like it, I fade and pale, when day returning
Bears witness that the absent can return,
Return, return.
Like it, I lessen with a lengthening sadness,
Like it, I burn to waste and waste to burn,
Like it, I spend the golden oil of gladness
To feed the sorrowy signal for return,
Return, return.
Like it, like it, whene'er the east wind sings,
I bend and shake; like it, I quake and yearn,
When Hope's late butterflies, with whispering wings,
Fly in out of the dark, to fall and burn-
Burn in the watchfire of return,
Return, return.
Like it, the very flame whereby I pine
Consumes me to its nature. While I mourn
My soul becomes a better soul than mine,
And from its brightening beacon I discern
My starry love go forth from me, and shine
Across the seas a path for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! all night I see it burn,
All night it prays like me, and lifts a twin
Of palmèd praying hands that meet and yearn-
Yearn to the impleaded skies for thy return.
Day, like a golden fetter, locks them in,
And wans the light that withers, tho' it burn
As warmly still for thy return;
Still thro' the splendid load uplifts the thin
Pale, paler, palest patience that can learn
Nought but that votive sign for thy return-
That single suppliant sign for thy return,
Return, return.
Return, return! lest haply, love, or e'er
Thou touch the lamp the light have ceased to burn,
And thou, who thro' the window didst discern
The wonted flame, shalt reach the topmost stair
To find no wide eyes watching there,
No withered welcome waiting thy return!
A passing ghost, a smoke-wreath in the air,
The flameless ashes, and the soulless urn,
Warm with the famished fire that lived to burn-
Burn out its lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life for thy return,
Its last of lingering life to light thy late return,
Return, return.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Nature Outlives Us All
It is the law of Nature the strongest does survive
And on the flesh of their victims the predators do thrive
And her creatures like her Seasons to Nature come and go
And the more we learn of Nature the more our wonder of her grow
Us humans belong to Nature we think we own her Land
And the more we learn about her the less we know we understand
The strangeness of her nature her beauty in every flower
The fierceness of her anger before her humans cower,
Nature is our sole source of food yet we pollute her water and air
Due to our greed for the health of our Earth Mother we do not seem to care
And what we do to Nature to our own selves we do
And that applies to all of us to me as well as you
Only the strongest thrive in Nature but Nature outlives us all
From the World's largest mammal to the smallest of the small.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis
Thesis
The sixth age shifts to 'slipper'd pantaloon,
'shrunk shank and childish trebles in pipe'line,
slight space to trace ambitions in decline,
and 'hungry generations' tread' is no cartoon
reflected echo for sage or buffoon.
The die is cast, as pride before the fall
sends shadow shivers over summer's prime,
on autumn's outcome none now bet a dime
as winter wins blank cheque and blanker wall.
The voice for choice Alzheimer claims, no hand
stalls 'moving finger', makes up for time lacked,
signs devil's pact ensuring second act, -
the writing on that wall precedes Death's pall, -
leaves ten to add to three score then the night
draws curtains, guarantees no further flight.
Antithesis
Three hundred years ago few forty passed.
Men, wars, and women childbirth, both disease,
or accident, went west through fate's decrees,
forgotten faces breathed forgotten last.
Few now face sixty palsied and aghast,
for life expectancy at eighty sees
most in the West hale, hearty 'if you please! '
with those in lands less favoured long outcast.
Yet who now flirt with sixty's certainties
could well outlive old Nestor, breast Time's seas
with knowledge that activities which fast
faded, failed, in future may contrast
with fears for years and tears for biers, may 'seize
the day' with confidence that life
may buy more time amid this vail of strife.
Synthesis
Sixty need not be point of no return,
maturity salutes a second spring,
welcomes unexpected joys within,
adds spice to life as onwards cycles turn.
Much hangs upon sustaining will to learn,
where voice for choice rings true, can span time's spin
enhancing both enjoyment, will to win,
While some soon snuff, still many candles burn
bright into night and true respect may earn.
There is no date of weight, no wait, no sin -
save disrespect for self - as trust may twin
with Time to eke new innings, spurn concern.
This sythesis still presupposes Man
must make his peace with Nature, excess ban!
(13 July 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Hero's Return
In a time of fear and confusion,
silence charging the air
The sunlight is gone, darkness lives on
in the heart of the dragons lair
Lost in a world of illusions
No trace of the missing ore
Stealing our souls, were out of control,
knocking at deaths door
All our beliefs fading into ashes
Heed the words that we pray
For a Heros Return our hearts still yearn
Rise and conquer, let the infidels burn
Now we charge, the battle is raging,
blood runs everywhere
Our anger is fierce, avenging the years
No time for a final prayer
Behold, the might of the hammer,
elliptical bolts of fire
Theres nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
Youre down to the wire
Somewhere out there lies a new tomorrow
for me and those who believe
For a Heros Return our hearts still yearn
Rise and conquer, let the infidels burn
For a Heros Return our hearts still yearn
Rise and conquer, let the infidels burn
Oooh
Now, Ive returned from a place far beyond
My mission I set, let it be done
We still belive in a brighter future
The dreams are ours to fulfil
For a Heros Return.
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am One Of Many Who Loves Nature
I am one of many who loves Nature her beauty is all around me
And every day in Nature's World new wonders I'm privileged to see
Of Nature we never stop learning we learn from her every day
Though her secrets and they are many from us she has hidden away
The only immortal I know of her presence is on every shore
All of her life forms their life spans in time is not long but she will live forever more
We depend on her for our survival yet we do not treat her that well
By our polluting and destruction of natural habitat we are creating our own earthly hell
One can only marvel at Nature each species of bird has it's own song to sing
And in the groves and woods and hedgerows they build homes for their young in Spring
The fish of lakes, streams and rivers, the mammals of sea and of land
Her billions of flying and ground insects of sky and of soil and of sand
Of Nature we never stop learning till to the scythe of her Reaper we'll fall
And in a World of many great forces she is the greatest of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Foreordained?
I suffer from a malady
And have done since I first drew breath
I know this for a certainty.
The end result will be my death.
Why should I let this worry me?
I know that I have died before.
My soul will live eternally.
Each time I die I'm born once more.
Each life I must learn something new.
Something I have not learned before.
One life insufficient to
add enough knowledge to my store.
I must return again to learn
Each life I have to start anew
To garner credits which I earn
By doing what I have to do.
I can't access my memories.
I start each life with a clean sheet.
And build up knowledge by degrees.
Like other men I must compete.
To earn my place and gain respect.
It is entirely up to me.
There is no way I can expect
To earn my merits easily.
The obstacles I overcome.
Will be recorded faithfully.
Although I score the minimum..
I still progress although slowly.
Life is a journey all must make.
Although there is no urgency.
About the speed or road we take.
Because we have eternity.
We live we die we are reborn.
Always to different circumstance.
To poverty or else high born.
Each life provides another chance.
To move on towards the light.
Where we will know as we are known.
And gain the power of wingless flight.
Because we are at last full grown.
The journey to maturity.
We undertake at our own pace.
We can choose slowly or swiftly.
Until we reach the trysting place.
We will return from whence we came.
And become part of the oversoul.
We'll have succeeded in our aim.
To merge must be our final goal.
Monday,09 April 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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In Finite Terms - 0987
When Fate's soft tick flicks safely by
when fête holds sway old Time must fly
"and not a cloud obscures the sky"
why worry, pleasure now deny?
For joys tomorrow soul soars high.
True, some are smitten, springs run dry,
yet few heed inner warning cry.
to mist dimiss, wave Time goodbye.
Fate may be written, it may lie,
behind the veil is passing sigh,
more is assumed in store so why
seek answers which no gold can buy.
For, if there's more, hope cannot die,
if nothing, then why worry, high
and low in turn their fate defy,
then wave forgot sink twixt sea, sky.
Life's transience, quite underrated,
too rarely is appreciated
as if the spirits, once elated,
could keep their thrust unmitigated.
What lies beyond the tombstone dated
has never been elucidated,
though many have prevaricated
redemption offer unabated.
Yet dances led, with lead unweighted,
quickstep through life, Death unawaited.
Why worry if the dice are weighted
with finite term anticipated?
When Time speeds up and hell-for-leather
is pressured onwards, storm tossed feather.
how drear each day to wonder whether
tomorrow's game we'll play together!
Ignored too often altogether
are ice-burst pipes in balmy weather,
or sacrificial goat on tether,
when life's free run on hill, vale, heather.
Dim is victim's prescience
despite disaster's imminence,
secure perception complements
self-satisfaction's arguments.
Men draw their sense of permanence
from self-supporting evidence
behind life's surface comforts whence
much is drawn, save diffidence.
Life's patterns in advance may churn
a warning aura we discern
through experience, concern,
here cause, effect, respect must earn
before anxieties return
to haunt, to taunt, or bridges burn.
Life's patterns in advance who turn
to true advantage, all peace yearn.
Unwise who'll sapless, saphead, spurn
the hints that candles one can't burn
at both ends long. Yet each must learn
alone wheels turn. Urn soon we earn.
How much of man's self-confidence
is self-sustaining self-defence,
a mechanism fear prevents
although at prudence expense.
The coin cards of coincidence,
that noise to others represents,
turn to advantage, making sense
of elements which signs dispense
which seed the sentiment events
may be controlled as 'whither' 'whence'
seem linked by dream intelligence
that lasts although we're hurried hence.
When cloud free shines the morning star
dawn's rose grows gold, presumes too far,
as if no shadow near or far
could compromise success, could jar,
could ever dowse life's vital fire,
as if, once launched, the poet's lyre
could chant forever and inspire,
nor bore nor jaw resentful ire.
Man's pride still heeds the siren call
til morn when free flight turns free fall.
that day one lesson learns, that small
sweet seems to gleam when night threats all.
Then narrow the circumference
of independence seems, intense
the pressure, the predicaments,
when arguments can't influence,
invalidate or overturn,
decisions others would confirm,
when former freedoms won't return
to light horizons dim and tern.
Those who rely on providence
too soon may find at their expense
that everlasting affluence
rhymes rarely with experience.
There is no 'Ave' no 'Marie',
no Eden for eternity.
Perjured he who'd guarantee
an endless hour in houri spree.
There is no golden throne and grand
when falls life's last coarse grain of sand
[the spectre of reign's written hand
of course reins in things out of hand].
There's no white rabbit, magic hat,
no second innings where the bat
defies Time's ball. When that is that!
dreams of karmic streams fall flat.
When Fate's hand, tricked and trumped, turns black
dark Present weighs, no turning back
to glories past. When cares attack
fair opportunities all lack.
Reflect! Each given day completed
is stay of execution greeted
before the final judgement meted
when hope for fair appeal's defeated.
Reflect! What future radiance shines
For anyone beyond life's lines?
Enjoy today! The Present signs
itself, as Cause Effect aligns.
(16 Febuary 2002)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Beautiful Fairy And The Fairy Dust Rain
Around this time of the year
The arrival of Spring is near
The arrival of Spring is almost here
And I'll happily be one with the spirits of nature
I'll completely embrace the magic of spring
As well as the wonder of nature
And the many other worldly pleasures
Around this time of the year
I await the fairy dust rain
Surrounded by trees and flowers
And many other things that are green
I await the arrival of the fairy dust rain
And many other sights of nature just waiting to be seen
A beautiful fairy flutters down from the sky
And lands down in front of me
She's almost as tall as me
We greet each other
And our hopes are the same
As we wait for the fairy dust rain
In the meantime
The beautiful fairy shows me her gifts of magic
And shares her knowledge with me as well
After periods of time have gone by
Fairy dust begins to rain down from the sky
The fairy dust rain has finally arrived
And we share the smiles and laughter
You ask me for a dance
And I don't hesitate to pass up this chance
We dance
Surrounded by flowers
Surrounded by trees
Surrounded by the fairy dust rain
After dancing
We look into each other's eyes
And then up to the skies
As the fairy dust rain continues to fall
Our eyes then return to each other
And we share a hug
You flutter your wings a little
Shaking off some of the fairy dust that's covered them
You tell me you're staying with me
At least for the time being right now
Little by little
We're being lightly covered in the fairy dust rain
Beautiful fairy
I must say that these moments we share
They're memorable and precious
You echo your feelings and sentiments to me as well
As the fairy dust rain continues to fill the air
Side by side
We stand together
Loving what's happening
But most importantly
We enjoy the sight of the fairy dust rain
poem by Justin Gildow
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Voodoo
Say you dont know me, youll burn
You can refuse, but youll lose, its by me
Say you dont want me, youll learn
Nothin you do will be new, cause Im through
Call me a liar, you knew
You were a fool, but thats cool, its all right
Call me the devil, its true
Some cant accept but I crept inside you
So if a stranger calls you
Dont let him whisper his name
cause its voodoo, oh!
Fade into shadow, youll burn
Your fortune is free, I can see its no good
Never look back, never turn
Its a question of time till your mine and you learn
So if a stranger sees you
Dont look in his eyes
cause hes voodoo!
Say you dont know me, youll burn
You can refuse, but youll lose, its by me
Say you dont want me, youll learn
Nothin you do will be new, cause Im through
Voodoo!
Bring me your children, theyll burn!
Never look back, never turn!
Cry me a river, youll learn voodoo!!
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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False Tenets and Promises
How often have you heard this expression: “ Well, sorry to say, this is my nature.” Just what is the nature of Man? Why are we such a predictable lot? Why is War our bed partner? These questions and many more can be asked but never really given satisfactory answers without stepping on toes that would bring the wrath of these elitist down on our heads.
Unfortunately for all of us, we come into this world with existing governing systems predicated on certain tenets and creeds. These opinions, doctrines, or principles held as being true by persons or especially by organizations. Yet never allowing future generations the privilege of researching these systems that are responsible for our very own nature, without an inquisition around the corner.
Apparently, it is much easier to burn these (true) inquisitors at the stake, metaphorically speaking, than risk having a house built on a sandy foundation, crumble.
The seeming nature oft presumed be Man’s
Is nothing less than some abstracted mode,
Conceived in dreams, contrived within human
Invention; dreamt-up folly episodes.
A dream is oft-involuntary mind
Sensations, not of serious award.
Consisting mostly of surreally kinds:
Unreal phantoms most assured ignored.
For some we note in highest places rule
The masses minds. Imaginary creeds,
Assumed the truth, but nonetheless a cruel
Inhuman whimsy borne o’er time, indeed!
Depose these charlatans! Divest their robes.
Expose their vile intentions. Burn their clothes!
poem by Albert Ahearn
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what do we do to Mother Earth?
do not burn
let the leaves fall to the ground
let them stay there
layer by layer
heap upon heap
let mother earth
hug all the leaves
let the affection be
strong and heavy
let the leaves die
and rot and become
water and become dust
to dust
let all of us see this dust
we shall do what mother earth
and nature loves best
to dust we shall return
and be its permanent part
close to the bosom
of mother earth
forever
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Writing On The Wall
I've seen the writing on the wall
What's the answer to it all
My eyes are open
No need to stall
I've seen the writing on the wall
How I loved you
When I first saw you
The transformation was there to see
I gave my heart, my body and soul
When I first saw you
Oh, how I loved you
Games, games, games - games people playin'
There's always a loser
This time it's me
Oh how I love my inspiration
Such a sad story
The game we played
How could sweet love
Turn to sour love
How could I've lied
One lie too many
Why should we be separated
You know that I still want you
You know that I still want you
Seen the writing on the wall
What's the answer to it all
My eyes are open
No need to stall
Seen the writing on the wall
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Shall Resurface
I shall resurface and redeem
The pledge taken can be left behind seldom
This is not the struggle for freedom
It is the honor and question of wisdom
Nothing can deter me from pursuing
No one can take it on agenda for arguing
It is self proclamation to prove to the call
When destiny is so near, you can’t afford imminent fall
For moment I can be sent into oblivion
I am not our from game and returning to pavilion
I have faith and trust in ability
As I have closely known the futility
I am not here to advance little and fall back by yards
My goal is not limited and to be moved forward
There might be some short fall or failure
But I am determined to move for sure
I can’t be broken at little pressure
It is not the problem with my nature
I know when to bow and when to rise
As it is apparent that after night there will be sunrise
Sun can’t be shadowed or hidden
Such things can’t take place or happen
Once in a life time such occurrences take place
So I follow the nature and pursue the race
I know that I can be flown away like leaf
The words can’t be heard by dear
We are unknown and stranger
But eyes can visualize the coming danger
It is endless struggle and may remain so
With determined bid it must start and go
Leave behind all speculations and dash against wall
It will go down like cards and fall
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Warakurna
There is enough for everyone
In redfern as there is in alice
This is not the buckingham palace
This the crown land
This is the brown land
This is not our land
Some folks live in water tanks
Some folks live in red brick flats
There is enough, the law is carved in granite
Its been shaped by wind and rain
White law could be wrong
Black law could be strong
Warakurna, cars will roll
Dont drink by the water hole
Court fines on the shopfront wall
Beat the grog and save your soul
Some people laugh, some never learn
This land must change or land must burn
Some people sleep, some people yearn
This land must change or land must burn
Diesel and dust is what we breathe
This land dont change and we dont leave
Some people live, some never die
This land dont change this land must lie
Some people leave, always return
This land must change or land must burn
Warakurna, camels roam
Fires are warm and dogs are cold
Not since lassiter was here
Black mans got a lot to fear
Some people laugh, some never learn
This land must change or land must burn
Some people leave, always return
This land must change or land must burn
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The More I Learn Of Nature
The more I learn of Nature the less of her I know I know
The little bird that all day search for insects in the hedgerow
Lives quite a complex lifestyle though we may not think so
The more I learn of Nature the more my wonder of her grow.
The more I learn of Nature the more I realize
That there is more to Nature than we see with our own eyes
The lives of flora and fauna are complex one might say
And from our ageless Earth Mother we learn every day.
The workings of Mother Nature is an amazing thing
There is more to the songbird than the song the songbird sing
Out in the wilds of Nature the strongest do survive
And always some have got to die for more to stay alive.
And every day in Nature there's something new to learn
The tiny ants amongst them an outsider can discern
That ant must flee their territory or they will kill it if it stay
And from the creatures of Nature we learn every day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Charmed Encounter of a Very Special Kind
CHARMED ENCOUNTER OF A VERY SPECIAL KIND
Charmed initials Mon Coeur signals, touching tendrils in the mind
Open onto a stupendous spacious hall,
Reaching out nerves strain synapses in attempt to slip behind
Real reeled cause/effect conditions, great and small.
Infinitely blessed is brillance whose bright colours, unconfined
Enrapture, glow beholden, golden ball,
Reckon up fair features Beauty claims her own as wined and dined
Are arteries well warmed where inner call
Sacred sentiments suggest, surely defined.
Charmed sensations echo empathy, concordance dance we find
Offered where before life seemed an empty wall,
Rigid barricades numb, soul's song dumb, ambitions undefined
Regretfully awaiting Charon's call.
Idyllic seems this atmosphere, unlimited, enshrined
Existence blossoms clearing karmic shawl,
Reveals how many lifetimes skillful Fate had intertwined
As links sweet, strong, that nothing could forestall:
Suprising tryst dispersing mists in mind.
Charmed day whose ray more hopeful may at last dawn for mankind
One over all, where Nature holds in thrall
Rising, falling, generations for fair silken tresses twined
Relegate to Lethe others' fates withal.
It appears ideal encounter of a very special kind
Exalting, whirled with beauty of the ball,
Rare this ecstasy, see supernova which can't be outshined
As all galaxies combine in southern Gaul,
Spirit elevate to purify one's mind.
Charm no others know - their surface glow soon fades, maids may not bind,
Only by her side may Pride stand sprightly tall,
Registers finess of features with quick spirit nought can blind,
Respect and admiration never pall.
Infinite shining armoured knights slay dragons base, unkind,
Effortlessly pleasing qualities Time's squall
Resist like Romeo and Juliet whose love, combined,
Approach the trust 'twixt Jonathan and Saul
Sapphire sky blue signals, soul to soul shall bind.
Charmed soul's aware 'twould thrones forswear, go where gold signet signed,
Obey joy's gift, as high priestess install
Revered as muse forever, Queen above mere womankind
Recanting empty idols one and all
Independantly of time and place, of meetings Chance may trawl,
Eternity, true witness, shall be never undermined,
Repudiated not though aeons far beyond recall
Awareness dull for all else yet, entrapped beneath one thrall,
Symphonic recognition underlined.
Charmed verse more verse would here rehearse, sing praises but, unkind,
Old English, narrow, lacks rhymed wherewithal.
Review true talent, virtues few aspire to, most, resigned,
Regret their springs so swiftly sag, unwind.
In one reflection happiness, contentment unconfined
Emanates, whose rays may never pall,
Resplendent render life's meander, haze and maze maligned,
As empathy, emotions waterfall:
Stream serene and optimistic, cares and trammels left behind.
4 October 2008 after a 19910118 variation of robi03_1220 acrostic Corrieras rewritten - Index Number out of Chronological Sequence
robi03_0365_robi03_0000 AXX_LXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing On The Wa
(clarke / sylvester / hicks)
Ive seen the writing on the wall
Whats the answer to it all
My eyes are open
No need to stall
Ive seen the writing on the wall
How I loved you
When I first saw you
The transformation was there to see
I gave my heart, my body and soul
When I first saw you
Oh, how I loved you
Games, games, games - games people playin
Theres always a loser
This time its me
Oh how I love my inspiration
Such a sad story
The game we played
How could sweet love
Turn to sour love
How could Ive lied
One lie too many
Why should we be separated
You know that I still want you
You know that I still want you
Seen the writing on the wall
Whats the answer to it all
My eyes are open no need to stall
Seen the writing on the wall
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Butterflies
Their beauty sad to say will not last long a few days to live that is all
The white butterflies in the garden on this warm day in the Fall
So little time in their bloom of beauty to mate and lay their eggs and to fly
Around the wildflowers and the flowering bushes when the sun shines bright in the sky
Of death they would not have a sense of but a few days in time to them must seem long
Their is so much to learn of Nature though Nature keeps proving us wrong
So innocent in their great beauty they are as natural as bird song
And so soon to return to Nature for to Nature they surely belong,
In the sky they seem to be dancing perhaps in a courtship display
Of butterfly life i am ignorant and my assumptions a guess anyway
As butterflies their's is a brief existence their life span is forty eight hours
They will be outlived by most insects and they will be outlived by the flowers
In a few days they will be with Nature as Nature takes back
what she does create
In the sunshine they flit through the garden seemingly quite unaware of their fate.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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