Related quotes: HOMERUN From dark to light...

Homerun

HOMERUN
From dark to light – one cry.
cot, tot, fine whine, youth tries
to rise, outshine, – strength vies
to test itself far, nigh,
will ever improvise,
wings spread ahead would fly
beyond the common sty.

Ends, means, some justify
as tools to fool, win prize
refusing to downsize
goals which new goals supply,
to grow, while enterprise
won’t sit, knit idly by
would flow to know, apply.

See sun at zenith high
where fair sweep cloudless skies,
fragility belies.
Self on self will rely
And thus we compromise
ourselves – each hour thereby
prepares grief leaf’s demise.

Men, weak “how, what, when, why”
seek to deny, despise
as limits while each eyes
ambitions run awry.
Most fail to realize
fame’s flame soon sinks, falls shy
of promise time can’t buy.

Stagnation by and by
sets in, transforms to ties
what once soared free, - denies
rights others seek would lie,
Inventing alibis
inverting truth stain, dye,
strain, pain, until sparks die.

Still time will onward fly!
Few care to recognize
sunset whet hopes defies, -
dare not, with rules comply, -
scope set cut down to size.
With humour grim and wry
Fate on each whim may spy.

Life’s voyage does imply
page after page time tries
to crop or circumsize -
each stage a wager sly
as cause, effect, in guise
of free choice voice deny
to unborn options! ... Why?

Tide turns, Time’s spring runs dry.
The candle burns. The wise,
the fool, fourscore, fade, - rise
no more, till final cry
whose sense none can disguise.
No echo, no reply...
from light to dark, sole sigh.

9 February 2005
robi03_1060_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ

Homerun Poem © Jonathan Robin
see also Homespun
robi03_1057_robi03_0000 SXX_DZX

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
HOMESPUNBirth Mirth Worth Girth Dearth Earth Berth

From dark to light – one cry, homespun.
Cot, tot, fine whine, youth vies at last
to rise, to shine, – strength tries so fast
to test itself far, nigh, to run
above the common sty or scrum,
tries stratagems devised to cast,
with sun at zenith high, shade vast, ...
ignores Time fleeting by. The sum?
Who fools are, who are wise, succumb.
Who true, who in disguise, outlast
the dreaded drum’s surprise, stand fast
can further innings try? Soon dumb!
Come night, tomb stark, done, lie forgot, – time spun
From light doom dark one sigh, poor lot, – rhyme done!

20 January 2005
robi03_1057_robi03_0000 SXX_DZX

see also Homerun
robi03_1060_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Homes pun Poem © Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Homerun - 1060

From dark to light one cry.
cot, tot, fine whine, youth tries
to rise, outshine, strength vies
to test itself far, nigh,
will ever improvise,
wings spread ahead would fly
beyond the common sty.

Ends, means, some justify
as tools to fool, win prize
refusing to downsize
goals which new goals supply,
to grow, while enterprise
won't sit, knit idly by
would flow to know, apply.

See sun at zenith high
where fair sweep cloudless skies,
fragility belies.
Self on self will rely
And thus we compromise
ourselves, each hour thereby
prepares grief leaf's demise.

Men, weak 'how, what, when, why'
seek to deny, despise
as limits while each eyes
ambitions run awry.
Most fail to realize
fame's flame soon sinks, falls shy
of promise time can't buy.

Stagnation by and by
sets in, transforms to ties
what once soared free, - denies
rights others seek would lie,
Inventing alibis
inverting truth stain, dye,
strain, pain, until sparks die.

Still time will onward fly!
Few care to recognize
sunset whet hopes defies,
dare not, with rules comply,
scope set cut down to size.
With humour grim and wry
Fate on each whim may spy.

Life's voyage does imply
page after page time tries
to crop or circumsize,
each stage a wager sly
as cause, effect, in guise
of free choice voice deny
to unborn options! Why?

Tide turns, Time's spring runs dry.
The candle burns. The wise,
the fool, fourscore, fade, rise
no more, till final cry
whose sense none can disguise.
No echo, no reply.
from light to dark, sole sigh.

(9 February 2005)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Bud Free - Anagram Acrostic

BUD FREE!

BEYOND YE BOND which terrifies
UNITE! UNTIE! shed all disguise,
DRAW joy WARD off, REEF FREE dark skies.
Knit I AM AIM to WE IS - WISE.
ROSE, SORE, RETWINS, WINTERS defies.
IN ONE I NONE FILE LIFE. Arise!
STREAM MASTER – HEART ART HE supplies
The SMILE which MILES DROPS, PRODS surprise.
Your WOLF’S growl grows FLOWS fertilize.
PART is a TRAP, - LO US! - SOUL ties
In knots HER 'MY' - in RHYME it dies.
The PAGE does GAPE? Just realize
ALL mirrors ALL in different guise
FOR TUNES trump FORTUNE’S flighty eyes.
READ, DEAR, SURE RUSE personifies
Each VERSE to SERVE sans compromise.
Each REVERSE REVERES replies,
Vocation EVIL VILE denies, -
END Lion’s DEN, REEF FREE, cease sighs
RESPOND PONDERS, Reaction dies.
Sight clear can LEAP, PEAL off past lies....
Each THEME MET, HE, GAME MAGE, gains prize!

5 April 2005
robi03_1150_robi03_0000 AQX_EIX

Initial version of Serve Verse 12 April 2005
robi30_1197_robi03_0000 AQW_EIJ

Bud Free poem © Jonathan Robin

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIII
SERVE VERSE!

BUD FREE IN TIME, SHAPE YOUR HEART'S VISION THROUGH VERSE

BEYOND YE BOND which terrifies
UNITE! UNTIE! PROD, DROP disguise,
DRAW joy WARD off REEF, FREE dark skies.
FOR TUNES trump FORTUNE’S flighty eyes.
READ, DEAR, SURE RUSE personifies
Each VERSE to SERVE sans compromise.
Each REVERSE REVERES replies.
ITEM EMIT for as TIME flies
No MITE, POOL LOOP, personnifies
The DEW WED, so NODE DONE advise
IT RIPS the SPIRIT – so scribe’s highs
May LOWS SLOW link, revise.
Easy WOLF FLOW satisfies.
Splice I AM AIM to WE IS - WISE.
HEART'S ARTS HE MASTERS STREAMS supplies
As SMILE which MILES DROPS, PRODS surprise.
PART STALE TALE's TRAP, - LO US! - SOUL ties
Each THREAD - no DEARTH - needs systemize
You EDIT TIDE DIET DEED despise
Objections COLD CLOD compromise.
URGES SURGE FROM FORMal guise,
REACT, TRACE NOW WON OWN enterprise.
He who GUIDES IS in DISGUISE
Each GENIC ZERO RECOGNIZE -
ALL mirrors ALL in different guise -
Response to dark INSURES SUNRISE!
The PAGE does GAPE? Just realize
Sometimes it OVERSIMPLIFIES
Verse low for LO IMPs IMPROVISE
IDEAS ASIDE on SITE link TIES -
Some POLEMICS, where one COMPLIES
In ONE COMPILES, NEO BUSY BUYS,
Or, FACE ITS SIN it SANCTIFIES
Naught - for I SIMPLE e'er IMPLIES
The rhyme IS SUPPLE and SUPPLIES
Here sharing and 'I SCREED' DECRIES.
Rubbish IT CHASES to CHASTISE
Or TEACH not CHEAT, through verse RITES TRIES
Uses INTACT, IN TACT rectifes,
Good SIRE, to RISE above weak cries.
Here knots HER 'MY' - in RHYME it flies -
Vocation EVIL, VILE, denies.
END prison DEN, let VERSE SERVE guys!
RESPOND PONDERS, Reaction dies.
Sight clear can LEAP, PEAL fast past lies...
Each THEME MET, HE, GAME MAGE, gains prize!

12 April 2005
robi03_1197_robi03_0000 AQW_EIJ

Serve Verse! poem © Jonathan Robin

Revised version of Bud Free!
5 April 2005 robi03_1150_robi03_0000 AQX_EIJ
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIII

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Serve Verse - Anagram Acrostic - Bud Free in Time, Shape Your Heart's Vision Through Verse

_____________________

Bud Free!

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Forever before Never

FOREVER BEFORE NEVER

Beneath stone slab forever lies
broker who could not devise
a way to pass on – sympathise! -
Rights Called when Death culled by surprise
And early Options exercised.
For him, for yours, bore worm supplies
answer unsought ‘neath sunny skies.
Bond Issues G[u]ilt cannot disguise,
recycle Shares of earth[l]y sighs.
Instructive Income, Prime rate wise
is Bonus gratis, - I’ll surmise:
Enjoy the day, before one dies,
life’s love true Love intensifies.
Insurance under in any guise
ignored is once will’s parchment dries.
Fee Contract, contact free, belies
fragility, no fortune buys
eternity when dock denies
soul’s sole appeal as none arise
when life’s Foreclosed, or rectifies
Mortgage Debenture - too late for cries
adventure over, severed ties.
Skeletal sods like last goodbyes
few mortals care to recognize
for Time forever forwards flies.

23 April 1990 revised 11 February 2009
robi03_0308_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ

for previous version entitled On a Stockbroker see below

On a Stockbroker

Beneath this slab forever lies
a broker who could not devise
a way to pass on (sympathise) ,
the Rights that Death would exercise.
An thus it is the worm supplies
a Bond which G[u]ilt cannot disguise,
recycling Shares of earth[l]y sighs.
An Income of instruction wise
is offered gratis, - I’ll surmise:
Seek to enjoy, before one dies,
the love that Love intensifies,
assistance under in any guise
offer free beneath these skies
for Time forever forwards flies.

23 April 1990

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!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

We Live, Borrow, Die

We mooch from Time which holds our souls in fee,
Each second stretches short, few make ends meet,
Lies most greet with more lies, man's span spins fleet
In wayward venture, tenure scans Fate's see.
Voice for choice can't stall Eternity,
End sighted, bold goals slighted, none Chance cheat,
Born just to fizzle, phut, bust, worm in wheat,
Our die's cry's fast cast on life's heedless sea.
Responses weak in sect some seek, fear free,
Reviving karma some rewards seek sweet,
On some hearts falls fell drawbridge, self-deceit
Where cause, effect are twisted out of key.
DIne, flask from empty cask drain, desert strip
Echoes ignores, core's terminus: - vain t[r]ip.

15 April 2005 revised 12 January 2010
robi03_1278_robi03_0000 ASX_DJZ

for previous version see below

WE LIVE, BORROW, DIE

W e live on Time which holds itself in fee,
E ach second stretches short, few dare stars greet.
L ies man meets with more lies, his span spins fleet
I n wayward venture, tenure scans Fate's see.
V oice for choice can't stall Eternity,
E nd sighted, aims are slighted, none Chance cheat,
B orn but to fizzle, phut, with worm in wheat,
O ur die's fast cast upon life's swirling sea.
R esponses weak in sects some seek, fear free,
R eviving karma some rewards seek sweet,
O n some hearts falls fell drawbridge of deceit
W here cause, effect are twisted out of key.
DI ne, fed, drain flask, ask bread, by desert strip
E cho empty, terminus, vain trip.

15 April 2005
robi03_1278_robi03_0000 ASX_DJZ

Acrostic Sonnet - WE LIVE, BORROW, DIE
© Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

After the Carnival

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!

Refresh...Meant

Lemon's cousin whose refreshing taste
I nvites to voyage far from rainy skies,
M ocks dark thoughts sterile, wrangles with which 'wise'
E mploy their days - Time's juice soon run to waste.
L emon's cousin in the spectrum placed
I ntelligence attracts - chromatic ties
M ix yellow, blue, to shine, it dark defies,
E xciting all imaginations graced.
L eaking stimulation bright green based,
I deas flow freely, heal the heart that ties
M agic, music, fielding bright surprise
E ncouraging this sonnet swift embraced.
LI ght's waveband shines upon the written page
ME ans to enchant, lends life to any stage...

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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.

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 â€˜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 â€˜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!

In Days to Come

IN DAYS TO COME

In days to come when, dumb, I’ll strum no more
rhymed witness to timed world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest unblessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections poet pours
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ scores
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Self is both root and cause of fatal flaws.

My memory, wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
may shadow search vain answers to Life’s game.

20 May 2005 revised 16 November 2006 and 25 March 2009
robi03_1257_robi03_0000 SXX_DIZ

for previous versions see below variant of Unjaded Sparkle 6 July 1991

In Days to Come

In days to come when, dumb, I’ll bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.

My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.

20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006 revised 23 November 2008
- for previous versions see below

In Days to Come

In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
For most wor[l]d-wise, ignoring one demise,
Life bright or boring as before, - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think on the pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions, one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget their first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.

My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.

20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006

for previous version see below

In Days to Come

In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time fair witness, world where butterflies
aloft dance marbled patterns in the skies -
next May, when I’ll have sunk to rest before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
Life will appear to who these verses buys
as bright or boring as before, - here lies
the irony, reflections one would pour
in ink upon the pixel pages’ score.
Ambitions fade, and libido, too, sighs
when hopes unmet one cannot realize, -
within oneself is found the fatal flaw.

Life will for me be candle lost to flame,
for others, search for answers to its game.

20 May 2005

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Timely Open Book

An attractive pair of eyes
of almond aspect, startling size,
sparkle with suggestive look
to signal “I’m an open book”
to which all welcome are who, wise,
rise, meet sweet challenge, find replies
the overhasty overlook.
Moreover, who their minds mistook
face value take where their own lies
make mirror image, dark disguise,
soon blot their ego's copybook -
self image wage, page books may cook.

From downturned mouth to upturned nose
verse flows until this tale we close.

22 June 2005 revised 5 December 2008

robi03_1286_robi03_0000 SXX_JLX

for previous version entitled Open Book see below

Open Book

An attractive pair of eyes
of almond aspect, startling size,
sparkle with suggestive look
to signal “I’m an open book”
to which all welcome are who, wise,
rise, meet the challenge, find replies
that overhasty overlook,
while those face value take mistook
are where they make for their own lies
a mirror image, dark disguise –
and thus soon blot their copybook...

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Its All in Her Strength

Before the sun rise she stumbles in the dark
The light of the day is the fire which burns her hands
Its dark she knows but the light has to shine
The pride of being a mother to her young
Its all in her strength

By the fire she holds the lectures
The lessons that change the society forever
She is not at all wise she knows but dares
For ts the shame of morons she can't bare
It is all in her strength

Noon time the sun scotches
She tills the ground hard in hope of a feed
Its too barren and dry, the blisters on her hands tear
But its provisions she must offer
Its is all in her strength

Evening the dark loiters
Oh the day is gone but not further
For tonights' dinner she's labored
Its all in her strength
The strength of an African woman

poem by MaryVivien Namata
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Nothing is Impossible

N othing is Impossible where heart
O pens out to heart when, far apart,
T wo minds touch tendrils, tender feelings flow
H ope effervesces, empathy may glow
I n scope communicating common start,
N ew adventure no known maps may chart.
G reat expectations may be met, and so
I f screens can disappear, fresh breezes blow
S omething precious shall the applecart
I nside upset. Simplicity, not art,
M ay then emotions foster, help to grow.
P erhaps the role ‘chance’ plays in life, may show
O bstacles to be the counterpart
S ecret of opportunities in part
S et back from sight, from what the mind needs know.
I nsight alone lets light from darkness sow
B etween the life-lines seeds love can impart.
L et twinned souls travel to those realms Descartes
E ncountered not through ‘logic pure’... Think Heart!

29 August 1996 revision date uncertain before 2000
robi03_0823_robi03_0000 AXX_LXX

for previous version see below

Nothing is Impossible!

Life offers opportunities to rise
Above the hum and drum of everyday,
Discarding empty arguments to play
A role that true intelligence supplies.
Know by intelligence one means the cries
Only the heart can feel and share, display
Love’s echo in a magic interplay,
And new tomorrows free from former ties.
Remember as you read these lines that skies
Of blue will chase all worries, cares, away,
Vanquishing uncertainties, dark, grey.
At last through hope for scope see new dawn rise!
Let light and laughter link, from false fears free,
Know nothing is impossible for thee!

22 August 1996

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Rule of Free Rhyme

Rhyme echoes time as creativity
Unreels threads which sense and rich feelings skein,
Lends to life’s scheme light beam which bends prose plain,
Extracts its pith with sensitivity,
Outreaching limits, spurning gravity, -
Finding behind mind’s veil tone, scale, refrain.
Fools find form forced, restricting fancy’s reign,
Repressed, or lacking sense acuity.
Emotions may be stressed with clarity
Expressive through rhyme time and time again,
Revealing style while from the chaff the grain
Has space to trace with receptivity
Youth’s aspirations, age’s fears, and more, -
MEanings multivalent, truth may store.

14 February 2005

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Shinning

Theres a man who sees all there is to see
What the future holds for all
As the days grow dark as his sole and final warning
Beware of the one with invisible friends they will steal into your mind
And all too soon the signs begin to show-oh
Rise up to the shinin
Live long live now-ow
Rise up to the shinin
Dont be blind by fools again
Fools again
As the page is turned and the storys told on the visions he had seen
The house on the hill with the haunted eyes that call
No one laughed as madness came out (out out) to play its game
If you stay too long youll finally go insane, now
Rise up to the shining
Live long live now-ow
Rise up to the shining
Dont be blind by fools again
Fools again
Bells will take their toll on your way out
Theres no way were born to shine before our time
All your life, youre on your own
Lonely road lost in a time
Let the light lead your way to the golden throne,
Its the only way
Rise up to the shinin
Live long live now-ow
Rise up to the shinin
Dont be blind by fools again
Rise up to the shinin
Live long live now-ow
Rise up the shinin
Dont be blind by fools again
Oh rise up to the shinin
Wise up, theyre gonna steal your mind
Rise up the house is gonna haunt you!
No one laughed, no one cried
Oh oh ahh-ahh yeah

song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Cento Emulations

The moving finger writes, and, having writ,
the Book of Life is signed and sealed to fit.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
are mirage lures, poor men in shadows cower.
I am here now, and gone tomorrow,
this vale of tears leads on to sorrow
though Green grow the rushes, Ho
from dark we spring, to darkness go
So gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
short lived are darling buds of May.

Of Faith, Obedience, Sacrifice
naught shall remain for in a trice
how tragedy and comedy embrace
the rise and fall of all the human race,
to his lamented loss, for time to come
the Fates bear witness, hear fear's dreaded drum.
To cease upon the midnight with no pain
means sods remain to never rise again,
for who would bear the whips and scorns of time
soon sinks, forgotten, corpses cannot rhyme!

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
repented soon for in Life's afternoon
If we might have a second chance
perhaps we'd forge ahead, advance -
I shall be telling this with a sigh -
perhaps another road I'd try.
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
my wraith may lament opportunities flown,
The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath
no more will pour balm upon my garden path.

(29 February 2010)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Well Read Unread

WELL READ UNREAD

Writing on emotions' motions
need apply to other eyes -
often inciting trite commotions -
seldom showing pleased surprise.
Time's rivers feed eternal oceans,
although life under any guise
knows no immortal magic potions
so youth turns prime then age with sighs.
Perhaps tomorrow special lotions
will cancers cure of any size
offer instant locomotion
between dimensions wide as wise.
Notice not ice nor fire can compromise
poetic search beyond known skies.

15 February 2010

robi03_1952_robi03_0000 SXX_INZ

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Between the Times

Braggart on Time's edge razor thin
Evolving frame by anxious frame,
Tired Man spiders fate or fame,
Weaves threads soon dewless dust - none win.
Each, casting dice - who's spun, who's spin? -
Expectant, losses would reclaim.
Now's leaves fall swift to Styx domain.
Telomeres shorten, cease to twin,
Hold all in hostage to chagrin.
Each page youth inks, seeks wings, pride flame,
Till age sooth sinks, weak wrings, ride lame, -
Insects' ambered Time-trap gin.
Maybe technology shall speed up change,
Extend short sojourn, mankind's range so strange.

6 May 2001 revised 4 May 2008
robi03_0934_robi03_0000 ASX_DJZ
for previous version see below

Between the Times

Balanced upon Time's razor thin
Edge, advancing frame by frame,
Tired Man spiders fate or fame,
Weaves threads soon dewless dust - none win.
Each throws the dice - who's spun, who's spin?
Each lost winnings would reclaim -
None independence dare proclaim.
Telomeres shorten, cease to twin,
Hold all in hostage to chagrin.
Each page youth inks, seeks wings, pride flame,
Till age sooth sinks, weak wrings, ride lame, -
Insects caught within Time's gin?
Maybe the Net shall speed up change,
Extend Man's sojourn range so strange.

6 May 2001
Between the Times poem (c) Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Is Second Best Just Jest Test or Unjust Protest Gest?

When second best protests against dire chance
he or she echoes stress at life's twist dance.

Self-confidence is put to sorry test,
ambitions, on the shelf, are laid to rest.

Inadequacy often will deny
the will to try, succeed, luck's lies decry.

'They also serve, who only stand and wait'
survivor said, regretting callous fate.

'They also serve who wait without the gate'
time-server grates, perceiving patron's pate.

'What service, light denied, anticipate? '
'Light - despite paradoxical life's plate! '

They're served, who only put on weight, expand,
whose judgement lies, so heavy on the land.

They swerve from justice, who, with heavy hand,
pervert the law- for which they should be damned.

They wait, who only seem to serve and stand,
beware! banned revolution is at hand.

To stand and wait in life to some seems nice
to taste of time, like salad, lacking spice!

When dream of self esteem turns rancid, raw,
apologies tears crocodile soon pour.

Poor too is mind that looks behind not for
top flight successes, recognized, in store.

Fresh opportunities are infinite,
no need to mope, scorn hope, of goals lose sigh.

What second best may seem at any time
can role-reverse distress, blessed see self climb.

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Homerun

Related quotes

Homerun - 1060

Bud Free - Anagram Acrostic

Serve Verse - Anagram Acrostic - Bud Free in Time, Shape Your Heart's Vision Through Verse

Forever before Never

Après la Fête

Reasons

We Live, Borrow, Die

After the Carnival

Refresh...Meant

After the Carnival - Apres la Fete

In Days to Come

Timely Open Book

Its All in Her Strength

Nothing is Impossible

Rule of Free Rhyme

The Shinning

Cento Emulations

Well Read Unread

Between the Times

Is Second Best Just Jest Test or Unjust Protest Gest?

En.Citatepedia^®.ro