From Crown to Downhill Flight 1930
Uneasy lies ahead, head wearing clown
stems stillborn tears, while smile disguises frown
too well aware of faults that others wear,
weary of his own that must prepare
for page where stage is empty of both smile
and frown, both tragic rage, dramatic style.
Ill begotten pair, forgotten soon,
as bust boom follows, dust fate's finger doom.
Catch twenty-two, eternal double-bind
to whom dark doubts would flout, preserving mind
from limits mere mortality imposes,
wit providing witness wherewithal
to conquer temporal restraints, dread call.
Yet neither sage nor sot one whit proposes
allowing never-ending bed of roses
without death's thorn and all it interposes
between taut tightrope shared for stretch extended,
and that whose short days fray, tort stay soon ended.
Heroic couplets cover shady acts,
as line line links, entwines, enchains, both facts
and fancy in scales' balance count as naught -
synaptic leap upon sleep's breeze net caught,
counts sheep while at deep discounts keep is sold
for naught persists caught by death's stranglehold.
Tale told what stays? Play's days of coward, brave,
young, old, rich, poor, submerged beneath time's wave.
Short sneeze, brief moment seized, tree's leaf falls numb,
swept from strife's maps, life taps new shoot soon dumb.
From entrance until exit cycle turns
life's candle, merry, sad, at both ends burns.
Uneasy lies clown's head, for tumbling crown
usurped, tossed, lost again, pride's ride must drown.
From crown to downhill flight, from light till dark,
all passes, swift gift over, this too, stark.
(15 October 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Countdown
Countdown begun, one way, no leeway where
One can reverse time’s wave to save the day.
Useless to look for aid. Hopes fade, links fray.
No energy remains, there’s none to spare
To challenge fate, anticipate, prepare
Dynamic options, open interplay.
Only stray souvenirs of heyday far away
Which weigh - nostalgia validates despair.
No space to trace another future where,
Bets placed win race, no need to piper pay.
Errors, time squandered come to roost today.
Grey before, behind, mind unaware.
Uneasy lies the frown that bares barred head
No light, no flight, and no delight ahead...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deep Sleep
Ive been walking in a deep sleep
Sleepwalking but I just woke up
From a deep sleep
A very deep sleep
Ive been running on remote control
In a deep sleep
I awoke the moment I was told
That a smile is just a frown turned around
On the face of a clown with a mean streak
It was a deep sleep
A very deep sleep
I cant remember what I used to know
Somebody help me now and let me go
Into a deep sleep
Push me back now let me go
Into a dream again
To a sleep unlike before
So deep it never ends
Ive been caught inside a deep sleep
Sinking deeper after I forgot
Sleepwalking as I watch myself
In a deep sleep
I keep pretending that its someone else
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can You Not See
Can you not see the sorrow, in someone's tearful eyes,
Or see the dread, in someone's weary frown.
Can you not see the fear, when someone's telling lies,
Or feel the sadness, in the laughter of a clown.
Can you not see disappointment, in someone's shoulder stoop,
Or the hand of doubt, when someone drags their feet.
Their whole being, giving signs, with a sagging body droop,
That their life, in this world, isn't quite complete.
Can you not see that each poor soul, has a heavy cross to bear,
One which we hope, will never come our way,
Perhaps the onus, is on us, to show them that we care,
And lift their spirits, and take away dismay.
Then we could see the smile, in someone's brightening eyes,
And the serenity, in someone's lifting frown.
The openness, when someone speaks, they'll have no need for lies,
And there will be a healing, in the laughter of a clown.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Hidden
Do you really smile
When you smile?
Or like me
Smile for others to see.
The face of a clown
Replaces the frown
Just for a short while
It's a look of style
Are you laughing
Whilst deep inside crying
The smiling
All just lying
Do your eyes water
When you give no quarter
Tears glisten in the sun
When love is all done
DO you really smile
When you smile?
All rights reserved
poem by Robert Green
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Smile Or Frown
Pairs of opposites
Half of them parasites
In the lives of mortals
Invading their portals!
Smile and frown one such
World of difference so much!
Smile attracts, Frown repels
Smile wins, Frown loses
Smile befriends, Frown alienates
Smile infuses love, Frown injects hatred
Smile encourages, Frown deserts
Smile strengthens, Frown weakens
Smile carries, Frown throws off
Humans alone can control
And conquer to play their role!
Sport the smile
Bid adieu to frown
Make others happy
Feel really merry!
poem by Subbaraman N V
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Why?
why are so many hearts broken?
if love is a token,
a promise not to be broken?
love welcomes with arms so wide open,
no matter how close it widen,
uneasy lies he that wear the crown,
real love is real not clown,
a joy to crown
not to frown
nor ramp with mr brown.
why are so many pains unspoken
and so many hearts get broken?
...so,
why wont bring
a balance to the equation
but simaltenously,
correlatively
sequential responses
that which love is inferred.
-
ntema's unique poetry (nup)
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Wainwright’s Wheel’s Weal Rights Wane
WAINWRIGHT'S WEAL RIGHTS WANE
Though tales turn legends over time,
and myths begin when legends fade,
what part of myth with truth may rhyme,
what soul against sole feather weighed
may find past actions well repaid ?
When all’s said, done, deeds scarce sublime.
Life desert seems till time to go
with post deserted on the job,
far from youth's spinning vertigo
age makes do with conditioned lob,
cobber clobbered ends as slob
beneath Time's sands, tune dune blown woe.
Strife's tragedy, life's glory's reign,
dust rust as fractious fractal sand,
at dusk Time's Wheel still turns, refrain
falls dumb, numbs mice and mens' vain plan
to cheat Fate which, impassive, gain
and loss ignores for also-ran.
Those who chased harvest grains of gold,
and those who flung them on wold, waste
alike forgotten lie, tale told,
rot, bolt shot, sot and sage misplaced.
Six feet by four where two feet raced
through space unlimited: all cold.
Time's spinning wheel steals, never still,
while mortal pawns from stem to stern
turn through warp, weft, whose pattern will
gainsay those praying for return,
for second innings while they spurn
hands begging alms, yet rob the till.
Some find fame’s flame, some, lame, are lost
some simply tack or take up slack,
few certain feel, far more count cost
of one-way track, no looking back,
prepare for probate and attack
all who dare care for coming frost.
Unkind is almanack which notes
ephemera most prize a while:
birth, spousal celebration, oats
sown wisely, rashly, reconcile
to soujourner such short shrift trial
as Chance doles out before Death votes.
What beauty spot, forget-me-not,
thrive to survive beyond the grave ?
What tiny tot by love begot
recalls love’s thrall, may keepsake save
when Charon tall and short cross wave
has ferried sad or happy lot?
Care wears down, frown knows no soft down,
once zenith’s passed upon the way,
ahead, head proud, from loud crowd crown
in vain seeks, weakness follows play -
where are the snows of yesterday
when season terminates countdown?
Who flutters by in merry mood
soon food for worms squirms – early, late,
mean little to Fate’s scales. Reviewed,
days sentient seldom senses sate
while those incontinent berate
extensions often hard pursued.
Life’s causal chain again, again,
wheels out reel’s fitful roundabout,
redemption justified by pain
non sequitur seems, soul without
a leg to stand on’s found where doubt
is sold on one-way wagon train.
Wainwright’s weal wanes as dawn turns dusk,
from lease released, renewal’s tease,
recycling readies empty husk -
to devil sent priorities -
nor beads, sect screeds, nor title deeds
prolong life’s hymn for further busk.
26 February 2010
robi03_1966_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
Wainwright’s Wheel’s Weal Rights Wane poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Clown In The Circus
What can i say..
I'm just the clown
Someone to cheer you up
And laugh at when you're down
That's my part
My role in this game of life...
When the odds are stacked again you
I'll role the dice
I'm a lover not a fighter
I'd rather laugh then cry
I don't look further then immortality
And i don't ask questions why
I'm just the clown
I'm just a clown
But what happens when the one who makes you smile
Is the one who's feeling down?
I can't lose my will to live
Or my part in this play
Who will be the one
To take these clouds away
What can i say...
I'm just a clown
I want to cheer you up
I don't want to see you frown
Lifes too short
In this theatre play
but i can't always be the one that's gonna make your day...
But i will try
Just remember at some point in our lives
We all need time
An a shoulder to lean on when we cry
Love from the clown xx
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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Death Of A Clown
My makeup is dry and it clags on my chin
Im drowning my sorrows in whisky and gin
The lion tamers whip doesnt crack anymore
The lions they wont fight and the tigers wont roar
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
So lets all drink to the death of a clown
Wont someone help me to break up this crown
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
The old fortune teller lies dead on the floor
Nobody needs fortunes told anymore
The trainer of insects is crouched on his knees
And frantically looking for runaway fleas
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
So wont someone help me to break up this crown
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Uneasy Psyche
My mind is like an uneasy psyche and,
Uneasy is the head that wears the crown;
But my faith will lead me on always to achieve my goals.
Repercussions and reconciliations,
Stifled through my memories lies the crown;
But, who can remember the face of the past with habitual ennui?
Troubles get you down when there are no solutions,
For anger makes the weakest man a devastating puncher!
And, there is a price for everything in this life.
An uneasy psyche,
The strength of my hope in life to move on with my muse;
But nature called in and i have to obey the command!
And like the repercussions and the reconciliations in life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Sunken Crown
Nothing will hold him longer—let him go;
Let him go down where others have gone down;
Little he cares whether we smile or frown,
Or if we know, or if we think we know.
The call is on him for his overthrow,
Say we; so let him rise, or let him drown.
Poor fool! He plunges for the sunken crown,
And we—we wait for what the plunge may show.
Well, we are safe enough. Why linger, then?
The watery chance was his, not ours. Poor fool!
Poor truant, poor Narcissus out of school;
Poor jest of Ascalon; poor king of men.—
The crown, if he be wearing it, may cool
His arrogance, and he may sleep again.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Short But Funky
Verse 1:
Life is too short but now its kind of funky
I make the beats for me and my homies
Newspaper reporters and others always ask me
Why Im x-rated and I rap so nasty
When I was a teen I did nothing else
But pick up a pen and express myself
The things I wrote were obsene and kind of dirty
But mama always said the truth couldnt hurt me
She also said that it would set me free
I guess she was r-i-g-h-t on the nail
Cause now Im out making my mail
It all started out from a freaky tale
If thats what sells then Im a stick with it
Short dog aint changing, so forget it
You can sell out if you want to, homie
But Im a stay short but funky
Verse 2:
Dont stop, just call it verse two
Its short dog baby from the dangerous crew
Not your average everyday fake rap on the micro
I might say something that your mother dont like so
Dont play it loud if shes around to see
But you can play this cause its rated pg
When Im rated x Im just having my fun
I bring a smile to each and every one
But theres a serious side in everything I say
Life is too short for you to wait til the next day
Just straighten up your life and you can start right here
Drop the cocaine and the bottles of beer
People always say it aint right to preach
But take my advice, get wise and reach for the sky
So you can live like a king homie
And Im a stay short but funky
Verse 3:
You never catch me on the mic rappin a dance tune
I like it kind of mellow with the sound of the bass boom
The style is mine, Ive been doing it for ten
You might say its simple, but Im making my ends
See I dont trip on a punk cause I jack him
Too $hort plus the cuss words equals platinum
What would I look like dancing on a stage
I wave my hand and do it like the old days
But some dumb fool want to take it out of hand
With 50 million dancers and a big old band
That aint me, Im from the old school
Play the instrumental, get the mic and Im cool
Cause Im an oaktown mack and its like that, so
It all comes out in my records and my stage show
In my category Im the one and only
And Im a stay short but funky
Hey yo, thats it
Baby jesus
Dog baby from the dangerous crew
song performed by by Too Short
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The poem and her poet
Death once told poor life defeated by life:
Life's no life if lived on the edge of knife,
No more a struggle, nor is full of strife,
Do ye know how many deaths is Death rife?
Death's all death; the same is not true of life,
Life tries to knot her up snaps when death's knife,
But I've heard a man asking on death bed,
Pray, tell me Death, how long ere I'm all dead?
To him, said death, straightening up his head,
Moments might when look like minutes of dread,
Minutes stretch and stretch into hours, instead,
When hours take days, and days, years, you are dead.
Remember, life's lived moment to moment,
‘Tis measured too in a moving moment,
Forget not: Death alone is permanent,
I dwell in life from birth, live life dormant;
There's no freedom in life, nor should death call,
Death changes but the bricks of prison wall,
All quarrels ‘tween life and death, big and small,
Settled are, death when proves him far too tall.
Life is a small piece, but a paragraph
Of my poem, said Death, metre nor measure but in half,
Life may decide every new beginning,
But ‘tis me that knows the length, knows ending.
Eons pass sans measure for endless time,
While no clocks tick, nor dare their hours to chime,
Boulders of rocks break down whilst time stands still,
O grinding into grains of sands sans will.
While life is stuck with my poem's first rhyme,
Death challenged life to dare the worst she can,
I'm the Absolute trouser wearing man1,
I wonder how relative would tick time!
_____________________________________________ ___________
1. Death muses himself to be the male principle, the purusha.
The poem stands for life and prakriti. The piece here depicts
a dialogue between Life, or the matter, the poem and her
creator poet, the Death. In Indic philosophy, purusha is the
presiding deity, the atman or soul, which is eternal and body
is made of prakriti, the material nature, which is death-bound.
_____________________________________________ __________________
- Musings | 12.08.12 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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Smile--Smile--Smile
A smile is beautiful with all its charm
Something to give but does no harm
A smile is a frown only upside down
It has a good feeling, just look around
A smile is a flash that cannot be sold
It has everlasting pleasure we are told
A smile is like the sunshine at its very best
Some wear it all the time until they lay down to rest
A smile is valuable like silver and gold
But it cannot be bought just always on hold
A smile is nothing till someone gives it away
Just try your best to receive it some day
A smile is like a statue that enriches the mind
You cannot steal or throw away but not hard to find
A smile is for the rich also for the poor
The benefits are the same till there is no more
A smile is for everyone with its action so true
It creates happiness in the home for me and you
A smile is a smile as known to mankind
Stand up in front and smile not stand behind.
poem by Lealon R. Tate
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Double Helix Abecedarian - Temptations
A maiden fair met Mr. Z,
Zealous bigot not her cup of teA,
Before accepting Mr. Y
Years eight and eighty, not a deB,
Could nor with him nor Mr. X,
Xanax share, they weren't pneumatiC.
Decided that Mr. W
Was far too fat, had a big heaD,
Ended that and turned to Mr. V -
Viagra prized more than virtuE.
Found naught in common with Mr. U
Unkempt, distraught and very stifF
Gladly told him so and lefT
To an appointment with Mr.G -
His voice was raucous, spectacleS
Shady, of uncertain healtH,
Insensitive, an arrant cuR,
Ready to furnish alibI.
Judged him too seedy. Mr. Q
Questions refused to answer. Mr. J
Knew little, so she lost no sleeP,
Perplexedly, lost, in the darK.
Little Miss French called Mr. O
Of Bury St. Edmonds, and, bad girL
Made eyes, flirting with other meN
Now here now there as Cupid's aiM,
Netted another victim, SaM:
Most unfortunately Sam loved BeN,
Or was it Harry PercevaL,
'Life's full of surprises', she said, 'whO
Prepares for doomsday earthquake cracK? '
Kind lady then turned to Mr P
Queried his clothes, while Mr. J.
Just turned her down for some Miss Q -
Rebuttal neither you nor I
Is sure to understand because her floweR
Scent seductive low and higH?
Had perfumed all about who pasS
Their days around her, praises sinG,
Giff thanks for such a musky wafT,
Unusual neighborhoods does whifF.
Fair lady recovered, Mr. U,
Vain she found him, then fell her eyE
Eagle like on Mr. V
Who seemed as favorite most aheaD -
Dream dashed too soon when she did knoW.
Xavier his name was, saturnine sceptiC,
Crude of speech and rude of seX
Yet self-important spendthrift criB.
Befuddled by love she turned to Lady SlY,
Zara by name, who pleased sublime papA -
And thats tale gate date end from A to Z.
written tongue in cheek in respect of forms as in double helix abecedarian
variation on a theme Poetic Pizza Extravaganza - Temptations - Xylophonic Resonance He Licks Enigmatic
The first line begins with A and ends with Z
the next line begins with Z and ends with A
The next line begins with B and ends with Y
The next line begins with Y and ends with B
The next line begins with C and ends with X
The next line begins with X and ends with C etc etc etc
(24 February 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Acceleration Generation Regeneration or Degeneration
Terse verse rehearses Nature’s cycle sent
as curse hearse food for thought life’s answers sought
for four millenia or more - predicament
narcissistic of man shaman time-trap caught.
Face lost in crowd, once cowed, may soar unbowed
outside staged stages, mournful shadow phase,
brief briefcase hard luck history, dread cloud
forever present pillow night dismays.
Man’s no stranger to hustle bustle streets,
unrailed and yet derailed by accident,
disease, or time which harvests heartless beats
as often as those tuned to tenderment.
Rent must be paid for earthly tenement
from birth to earth berth threescore ten years taught,
taut tightrope led from dark, fed, darkness bent,
with best laid plans of mice and men cut short.
Ignore swift time rift, second-thoughts aloud,
ticked of some callendar of nights and days,
of ages rushed and crushed far more than wowed,
till Lethe drowns strife's sorrows from life's gaze.
'Unkindest cut of all' seems self-deceit's
travesty of chance earth birth has meant
for opportunities before the winding-sheet's
last laugh and rictus ends bewilderment.
The sum of knowledge - man's empowerment -
now doubles each decade, and this has wrought
scope for both hope, destruction; store saved, spent,
itself prepares fresh options, cyclic sport.
Invention, innovation, have allowed,
acceleration which might seem haste haze
to most, who'd cruise coast, choose not, will kow-towed,
or caught in fad, trend, fashion, transient craze.
Unprecedented upgrade mankind meets,
greets multi-modal gene switch tripped, yet ought
take time out, flout race, rush outface; crush cheats
new world more slave than brave, wave’s bore grave fraught.
Moore’s Law's extrapolations represent
not only chips more powerful to sport
networked communications excellent,
they challenge base assumptions 'heaven sent'.
Concern to channel causal temperament
may seem as dream to stumblers on time bought,
but bumbling being bubble bursts, has wrent
tissues, rewiring brain sheath substance - sort
of myelin, white matter supplement
to speed synaptic links as swiflty caught,
relayed, as thought by neurones excellent
whose store depends on practice or to naught
is brought by lapse which traps experiment.
Bewilderment seems signature for most
who means can't steer to ends whose causal tick
beyond the click of mice and men mere ghost
appear to veer haphazardly, fall sick,
lose sight of goals, won't strive, prefer to coast
then perish caring scarce a fiddlestick
for those behind who raise sham, futile toast
to life vain strife perpetuates - lipstick
gloss to hide loss of unused gifts they lick
to mask frustration, stress, quick nervous tic.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Frown and Clown
Yes!
they all frown and clown;
when they notice, that you are the crown that makes the gown of my happiness longer.
This makes my soul itch in love,
when you are with me,
not with me,
and forever with me.
Yes!
they all frown and clown;
when they notice, that you are the speedometer of my heart,
and that you are always right in between the cabinet of my chest.
Yes!
I am now crowned and gowned up,
to know that;
she simply makes my heart gracefully dance
and glance happily at those who think that I am a fool in love.
Yes!
Let them frown and clown on;
with their thorny crowns of ignorance.
For all I know, and row in;
Is, she is my lord of admiration,
and I love her supremely delicately,
for she is always there for little me.
So let them frown and clown on.
poem by King Femi Oloidi
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Frostbitten Finger
Frostbitten finger beckons to frown future's clown
while old ways linger.
Is freedom ginger beer froth support for one’s own
survival’s binger,
or doppelganger phantom intellectual gown
mortal mask danger or moral ask anger?
Time's trial stinger faults thought lines, trigger meltdown.
Life's strife is cliff clinger,
for poor puppet stringer's cold feet answers. Fate' frozen crown
Frostbite quiets siren song singer
seeking fools’ gold - pyrites otherwise known
as strict dead-ringer
icing out cold gold bell ringer's frostbite finger.
Frostbitten Fingers
Frostbitten fingers
beckon to frown future's clown
while old ways linger
is freedom ginger
beer froth support for one's own
survival's binger
or doppelganger
phantom intellectual gown
mor[t]al mask anger
siren song singer
or fools' gold pyrites known
as strict dead-ringer
Time's trial stinger
faults thought lines, trigger meltdown.
Life's strife cliff clinger,
poor puppet stringer
seeks answers - destiny's crown?
free-will bell ringer?
(13 January 1993 revised 29 March 2009 and 15 February 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Ashes to dust
What do you do when your darling’s
grey dark eyed wondrous cat,
lies stiff at the back door
next to the Wendy house?
If that cat follows you
out of love
when you are banned
to the flat
and makes your place its own
and loves you more
than any other.
It’s tragic when its existence
becomes one with its name
and it goes from ash to dust
and you may not even
put him in the ground.
Still life rushes past
and it’s really tragic
that every thing
only has a short stint
under the hot sun
and the blue sky
and destiny draws its final line,
for everything and everyone at a time
and the life energy
disappears to somewhere
while the sun still shines
for others that are in the same cycle.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nevermind
The war was lost
The treaty signed
I was not caught
I crossed the line
I was not caught
Though many tried
I live among you
Well disguised
I had to leave
My life behind
I dug some graves
You’ll never find
The story’s told
With facts and lies
I had a name
But never mind
Never mind
Never mind
The war was lost
The treaty signed
There’s truth that lives
And truth that dies
I don’t know which
So never mind
Your victory
Was so complete
That some among you
Thought to keep
A record of
Our little lives
The clothes we wore
Our spoons our knives
The games of luck
Our soldiers played
The stones we cut
The songs we made
Our law of peace
Which understands
A husband leads
A wife commands
And all of this
Expressions of
The Sweet Indifference
Some call Love
The High Indifference
Some call Fate
But we had Names
More intimate
Names so deep and
Names so true
They’re blood to me
They’re dust to you
There is no need
That this survive
There’s truth that lives
And truth that dies
Never mind
Never mind
I live the life
I left behind
There’s truth that lives...
I could not kill
The way you kill
I could not hate
I tried I failed
You turned me in
At least you tried
You side with them
Whom you despise
This was your heart
This swarm of flies
This was once your mouth
This bowl of lies
You serve them well
I’m not surprised
You’re of their kin
You’re of their kind
Never mind
Never mind
The story’s told
With facts and lies
You own the world
So never mind
Never mind
Never mind
I live the life
I left behind
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
My woman’s here
My children too
Their graves are safe
From ghosts like you
In places deep
With roots entwined
I live the life I left behind
song performed by by Leonard Cohen, music by Patrick Leonard, lyrics by Leonard Cohen (2016)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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