Related quotes: From dark to light one...

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
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Related quotes

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

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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

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Homes pun Poem © Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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

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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
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poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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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
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After the Carnival - Apres la Fete

The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way,
clowned senseless as an ass's bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.

Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there's no energy to pray.

Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.

That one's posterity will stay
when life's departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over, May
to Winter bows, Spring may not stay -
its darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.

For previous version revised 21 May 2005 see below
Life's Carnival swift sinks soon drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.

Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain,
clowns stride stage, pine, pain, soon lie slain.

Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures' knives -
which often with 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
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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
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Time to decide

It is time to think
To open a page with new ink
Not to look towards sky
And raise the question why?

It is not the tide that rise
It is not the person who is wise
But it is fate that strikes you
And timely action that takes you through

Develop the strength to endure
Strong resolves to build future
Where nothing is granted for sure
But all the possibilities for disease to cure

There is no dead end always
You go to find the ways
Some good hopes may realize
Even though may not be in quantity or size

Time and experience makes man perfect and wise
How days become bright and sunny after sunrise
Darkness has to disappear and give the way
The light has to spread and take the gloom away

Where is the second option?
Success or failure is only question
Either way you have to get ready
Move ahead with mind stable and steady

You may strike gold
With your approach very bold
It is not the way or manner in which you perform
But with the dedication and honesty you storm

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.

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
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You Can Still Be Free

Cool breeze and autumn leaves
Slow motion daylight
A lone pair of watchful eyes
Oversee the living
Feel the presence all around
A tortured soul
A wound unhealing
No regrets or promises
The past is gone
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
Time now to spread your wings
To take to flight
The life endeavour
Aim for the burning sun
You're trapped inside
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
But it's a long long way to go

Keep moving way up high
You see the light
It shines forever
Sail through the crimson skies
The purest light
The light that sets you free
If time will set you free

Sail through the wind and rain tonight
You're free to fly tonight
And you can still be free
If time will set you free
And going higher than the mountain tops
And go high like the wind don't stop
And go high
Free to fly tonight
Free to fly tonight

song performed by by Savage Garden from Affirmation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dare She?

Some sentiments destabilize
when inner thoughts through other eyes
by magic pen may formalize.
Perhaps, despite protective sighs,
hope lies ahead, helps shed disguise?

Tight rope walk from walled citadel,
beset by fears Time can’t dispel,
sits one who may have loved too well, -
emotions dares nor share nor tell,
lest betrayal breach hope's shell.

Stands, reflects with much surprise,
upon commitment’s even ties, -
scarred by a past which “self” denies,
scared behind sweet sparkling eyes, -
lest she should lose herself, fair prize.

Is real from drawbridge cusp choice free
or reel rewound where wounds may be
reopened although memory
real_I_tease would hide, - stiff fee
to pay for ransomed soul at sea.

Reality may coincide
with dreams when two, as one allied,
advance together, prospects wide
embrace with motives bona fide
face future fearless, side by side,
all former errors rectified.

Fate scoops hope's bottle from life's sea -
half-full? half-empty? - destiny
plays games with will, reality.
Combine, merge, urge purge, splurge surge, key
into choice voice, rejoice, set free.

For 'what will be' can't stay inside
time genie's bottle, chance denied,
must scene tranlate to act, play ride
from start through end as plot supplied
threads to conclusion which may guide
fresh start for heart wait's weight defied.

Careful, fearful, fitful, she
herself seems her worst enemy,
seeks protection, amity.
What controls her destiny?
dare she let go, for once not flee?

Maybe its time to realize
that though fleet Time so swiftly flies
compromise can’t circumsize
future options that arise
to offer comforting replies.

She, where others buy and sell,
for silver pawn their souls to Hell,
sheltered beneath protective shell, -
more flirt on call than siren bell
though on hid softness fond thoughts dwell.

Who’d wish her heart he satisfies,
may seek HER truth where most, less wise,
confide blind trust to logic’s lies…
In harmony hope's answer lies,
shared peace, that love alone supplies.

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Fool No More

Packed up all the pain
Left the tears outside my door
And Im not gonna be the one
Whos left out in the rain no more
I see it so clearly
The writing is on the wall
Tellin me Im gonna be
Alright after all
Now I open my eyes
And I finally wise, no, no
No fool no more
No fool no more
Not like before
Not the way it used to be
No fool no more
No tears this time
cause this time Im wise
To the game thats been goin on
And Im not gonna be no fool no more
Ooh
Oohoohoohooh
No fool
No room for sad regrets
cause the past is done and gone
And Ive learned that its time that makes you wise
And truth that makes you strong
You thought you were so cool
Pull the wool right over my heart
But now you see that you cant keep
This heart in the dark
cause I see through your eyes
Wont be blind one more time, no, no
No fool no more
No fool no more (no fool, baby)
Not like before
Not the way it used to be
No fool no more
No tears this time (no tears, baby)
cause this time Im wise (Im wise)
To the game thats been goin on (to the game, uh, uh)
And Im not gonna be no fool no more
Gonna pull my heart together
Gonna leave the past behind
Gonna get to somethin better
Put you out of my mind, yeah
Im gonna be strong
Im gonna be fine
I just want you to know
That Im not gonna be no fool no more
No fool (no, no) no more
Not like before (not like before, baby)
Not the way (not the way) it used to be (oh, no)
No fool no more (no, no, no, no, no)
No tears this time (no more tears)
cause this time Im wise (not cryin for you, baby)
To the game thats been goin on (whoa)
And Im not gonna be no fool no more (mmm, mmm, mmm, no)
No fool no more (no fool no more)
Not like before (not like before)
Not the way (no, no) it used to be (oh, ho, oh, ho, ho)
No fool no more
No tears this time (no tears this time, baby)
cause this time Im wise (cause this time Im wise, yeah)
To the game thats been goin on (alright)
And Im not gonna be no fool no more (no fool no more)
No fool (no fool) no more (no more)
Not like before (not like before)
Not the way (not the way) it used to be (it used to be)
No fool no more (oohoohooh)
No tears this time (baby, baby, baby)
cause this time Im wise (I cant waste my time on you, baby)
To the game thats been goin on (no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, uh-huh)
And Im not gonna be no fool no more
No fool no more (no fool no more)
Not like before (not like before)
Not the way it used to be

song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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!

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
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Orison (Give me your smile)

Waves meet the end
When the ocean reach the land
Water the sand, before your feet
Two worlds meet

The future is far way, at the end of the world
In the horizon still our wonder
High mountain we climbed
Seek for this secret, far sighted distance
Nothing...Do you see the end? ...Nothing
We can't see the ending of everything
Now we learned, future is unpredictable
Not yet to cherish
Not yet to cry

Look back the past
Broken dreams pull your tears
Don't cry my dear soon it will over
All we got not will always be good
Because, It's not heaven we live on
Always have true hopes, never get down
So smile for a little, keep hopes alive

Chase on the light
In depth of the dark
Could be faint but still bright
Bright and brighter when it's dark and darker
Remember
The past has gone
The future still untold
We need the light to move on
Stay in sadness or seek for happiness

Shed you tears, don't cry my dear
Paradise is not where we living now
To promise you will happy forever
Just give your smile to me
I'll lend my hand for you
We will cross the ocean,
Chase the basement of the rainbow
Till we reach the horizon
The end of the world

If we are the ships, lost in the ocean
All we need, a direction
You as a captain with options
Decide your choice
To sink in the middle or
To harbor your dream
Remember
Far in the ocean
As the waves will meet the end
As it wash the sand
Soon we will find a land
Back home and safe from the stormy seas..

The hope always exist for whom believe it
The dark is forever if we deny the present of the light

-ORISON is the Introduction of my upcoming poems, collectively
known as 'Rise from The Ashes (RFTA) '..and the theme is about to be free.
I try to bring some dark more, but in positive..

it wont be sad as it still come from my hand, Unwritten Soul hahahahaha
Inspired by people, I not promise the collection of RFTA will be good or perfect write coz i am not good writer, i just can offer what i can give, my thought and support..Sorry it this introduction still have some weak somewhere, just write it right now...: P

1st poem from RFTA: End of Time

poem by Unwritten Soul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Am I mistaken A rant

When shopping at the superstore
I find each time I must pay more
For food than what I used to do
And other prices increase too.

It makes rather curious
and not a little furious
Whichever store to which I’ve gone
The prices rise in unison.

I suspect conspiracy
They all agree it seems to me
To a co-ordinated plan
Simply because they think they can

Increase the profits which they make.
It’s not a case of give and take.
I can produce no evidence
I rely on my common sense

Perhaps I’m growing paranoid.
Why does the government avoid
Examining the evidence
Because they know it would incense.

The fat cats who they daren’t offend
So they keep quiet and pretend
The do not have the power to
Do as they’re supposed to do.

Protect the public not their friends
But obviously it all depends
To whom they owe their loyalty.
Not to public obviously

Until there’s an election due
That is the time they promise to
Investigate the reasons why
Food prices have become so high

You can believe if you so choose
But as for me I will refuse
To waste my time by listening to
What they are promising to do.

They promise much deliver less
That’s why this country’s in a mess.
We cannot trust the government.
That much at least is evident

The fat cats just ignore the rules.
They see the government as fools
Who have strength but not the will
One single promise to fulfil.

Of course the government deny
This is the truth and they reply.
As usual with platitudes
There is no change of attitude.

The rich grow richer every day.
We have no choice we have to pay.
The prices they demand for food
Maybe I have misunderstood.

And politicians never lie.
And that truth is that they try
To protect us from the greedy few.
Who can tell them what to do.

Governments of both left and right
Have not the strength of will to fight
The power of the money men
Who ever lives at number ten.

Friday,23 September 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetic Standard

Poetic inspiration must supply
Open sourced resourcefulness, may not
Exist in half-light, cuts the gordian knot
That holds back harmony from inner eye.
Insidious compromise can't satisfy
Creative impulse that rejects as blot
Secondary lot where, half forgot,
Tired lines block, lock life's vista, dreams deny.
All hesitation acts out living lie
None should accept to temper daily rot,
Dread time-trap snapped shut once one bolt is shot.
Aloft soar, draw from intuitions, fly!
Read much, hunch heed, rise from rant's rubbish vent,
Dare to revise, creative dance invent.

Skein poetic weaves life's leaves. Flash wink
Turns think through ink to stage fulfilling page
As insight mixes music, words wild, sage.
No Tao is tainted that cues tone-true link
Descriptive and instructive, scanned in sync.
Although some self-styled poets feel form's cage,
Review Stravinsky's words, all doubts assuage.
Deny blank prose poetic rose crown. Drink
Pierian deep, sip not lip-service brink,
Or compensate for feelings trapped to wage
Ego war against injustice guaged,
To ease maimed spirit's claims of unfair stink.
Inside poetic process progress make,
Craft well, rewrite, reword from second take.

6 September 2009 robi3_1908_robi3_0845 ASX_IXX
Acrostic Sonnet POETIC STANDARD STANDARD POETIC
See notes and related poems below
__________________
Pierian Spring

The Pierian Spring from greek mythology is held the metaphorical source of knowledge about the arts and science. Pieria, ancient Macedonia, was the location of Mount Olympus, the seat of worship of Orpheus and the Muses. The spring is believed to be a fountain of knowledge that inspires whoever drinks from it.

Alexander Pope - Essay on Criticism

A little learning is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring;
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.

______________

'The more constraints one imposes, the more one frees oneself of the chains that shackle the spirit... the arbitrariness of the constraint only serves to obtain precision of execution.' Igor Stravinsky

_____________________

Poetic Inspiration

Poetic inspiration must not tarry,
dry up, discouraged, over-analyse.
Expectations entertained help carry
message deep to conquer Time which flies.
There is no cause to dam perceptions, parry
questions put, those jealousy implies
to force reaction where response should marry
all to all, - no need to temporize.
Refute temptation, motives mercenary,
yet neither 'look too good, nor talk too wise’.

Before vague interferences the mind
distorts, today’s perceptions twists, heart tries
to focus clearly, insight redefined
and shares impressions' pulse which never dies
while magic taps into soul’s spring to bind
into emotions each identifies
mundane events transformed, sense underlined
with Jericho's walls fallen, fear defies.
Transcending formal fetters much maligned
inspiration loves to improvise.

Through intuition lucky few may find
such inspiration free verse seldom tries
to pin down, qualify, or predefine.
All limits disappear as 'hows? and whys? '
loose, lose, restrictions, innate truth unwind.
Across dimensions musing spirit flies,
base substance shed, trite trammels left behind,
as gravity dissolves, - no lows, no highs -
as meanings are decoded, intertwined
in ink which links 'I think', 'you feel', 'we rise'.

Exacting standards which sustain no blot,
must overcome doubts day to day supplies,
quit half-life half-light, cut the gordian knot
of form to swarm above what satisfies
secondary lot where those forgot,
who blindly rules obey, life lose. Surprise
lights eyes so seldom as progressive rot
sets in, skin deep or masked by dark disguise,
accepts trip’s time-trap trigger, its bolt shot.
Yet inspiration no rules justifies.

Scorning hesitation’s living lies,
which dew drops gathered from forget-me-not
ignore, or leave untouched, passed by with sighs,
informed awareness reaches out from what
seems insignificance, can recognize
energies innate, taste cold and hot,
to spurn self-satisfaction’s compromise, -
small slots refutes - for most the daily lot -
tendrils intangibles to realize
inner joy tease crosses, eyes may dot.

1 October 2005 revised 4 April 2008 robi3_1310_robi3_0845 XXX_EIJ
for previous version see below

Poetic Inspiration

Poetic inspiration must not tarry,
dry up, discouraged, over-analyse.
Expectations entertained help carry
message deep to conquer Time which flies.
There is no cause to dam perceptions, parry
questions put or those envy implies
to force reaction where response should marry
all to all, no need to temporize.
Refute temptation, motives mercenary,
‘and yet not look too good, nor talk too wise’.

Exacting standards which can stand no blot,
overcome doubts daily life supplies,
won’t live in half-light, cut the gordian knot
of form to swarm above what satisfies
secondary lot where those forgot,
with rules obeyed, convictions fade. Surprise
lights eyes so seldom as progressive rot
sets in, skin deep or masked by dark disguise,
accepts trip’s time-trap trigger, its bolt shot.

Scorning hesitation’s living lies,
dew drops gathered from forget-me-not,
informed awareness reaches out to touch
apparent insignificance, relies
not on self-satisfaction’s compromise, -
open to intangible, mines much,
sustaining promise, spurning formal ties.
Refuse small slot - for most the daily lot. 1 October 2005

____________

Living Lie

Poetic inspiration can’t run dry,
expectations entertains, cannot
live in half-light, cuts the gordian knot
dividing consciousness from inner eye.
No compromises ever satisfy
exacting standards that reject as blot,
secondary lot where, half forgot,
convictions pale are held to not apply.
Hesitation is a living lie
most men accept to ease their daily rot,
time-trap snapped shut once only bolt is shot.
Try who will, few still find wings to fly.
Thus when two meet, see differences dissolve,
empathy Earth’s mysteries may solve.

20 June 1997 revised 26 November 2006 robi3_0845_robi3_0000 SXX_IKX
for previous version see below – previous title Hesitations are a Living Lie

Hesitation is a Living Lie

He whose inspiration won’t run dry
Expectations entertains, cannot
Live in half-light, cuts the gordian knot
Encompassing the spirit’s inner eye.
No compromises here can satisfy
Exacting standards which accept no blot,
Secondary lot where, half forgot,
Convictions fade, men fondest hopes deny.
Hesitations are a living lie
Most men accept to ease their daily rot.
It is a time-trap. Once the bolt is shot
Try who will, few find the wings to fly.
Thus when two meet, see differences dissolve,
Harmony Earth’s mysteries can solve.

20 June 1997

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Decide! - 1294 - Initial Version

Dreams often the minority divide
Essentially from masses mystified.
Champion truth not falsehood, for ahead
Is clarity, options authentified,
Draw down from experience allied
E'er with convictions leader sifts from led.

Dreams too too often man from man divide
Ever as the crowd, preoccupied,
Criss-cross zigzags, some dumb stay, hope fled,
Initiatives restrained, life bled, cut and dried,
Drained by false fears, unblessed by wisdom wide,
Expectations high deny instead.

Deny temptations of soft ride,
Ease superficial, risks unquantified,
Chooses 'safe way', straight road comfort fed,
Ideas second rate accepts as guide,
Derides free choice, autonomy, self pride,
Exchanging fad conformity for bread.

Distrust that moment Fortune's tide
Entwines ambitions in its fickle thread,
Cause, Effect confuses as Fate's tread
Is feared by those to blind convention wed,
Dark homage pay 'authority'' to glide
Empty through life, by siren songs misled.

Disqualified whose deeds unjustified
Emotions undermine, who have gainsaid
Communication, dialogue have shed
Isolated self from ethics, lied,
Dropped principles and trust, stripped bona fide
Emancipation, high ideals stopped dead.

Dim, most responsibility do, chide
Endure more than participate, and dread
Conscious freedom's fountainhead,
Inhibit their own birthright, squat beside
Doubts self born, stay torn, dare not provide
Emotions true to surf life's watershed.

Decades dovetail to centuries beside
Entrapped spectators, waiting on the side,
Challenge refusing, witless walking dead!
In fear of fear, refusing to decide.
Dare! Who is there their answers seek inside
Earth's soul? Most stillborn seem their hour sped!

Decisions take, don't hesitate or bide
Excessive time awaiting from outside
Comprehensive answers coveted.
Independant mind must coincide
Directly with the will to win, not hide.
Existence is too short - life soon is sped.

Deeds Mankind needs, advancing from inside,
Excluding bias, crimes unrectified,
Creating bridges, leaving naught unsaid.
Identify the different ways your stride
Divides from those who, superficial, slide
Each day, - those most behind putting self ahead!

(10 September 2005)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here's To Gracious Endings

You'll never hear the breaking heart
I'll never hold you to the sparks
A fire that only burns in me
Was simply one, that shouldn't be

You never promised me romance
I've always known your circumstance
But in my heart, you sparked a flame
That held me to a foolish game

So many years I've been denied
A simple truth that you disguise
I've asked you, time and time again
To let me go…or let me in

Don't tell me that you want me now
Don't try to claim you care
If there ever was a moment, babe
I've not found it anywhere

Dig down deep, and let it out
You know what I'm talkin' about
Don't' keep holdin' up the lie
I see it buried in your eyes

I'm just not the girl I used to be
There's something hard inside of me
You woke me up, when you shook me down
Then left me hanging out to drown

But, the rain don't hurt me near as much
Cause it can't hurt, what it can't touch
I've locked my heart up in a cage
I've read the lines and turned the page

Don't tell me that you want me now
Don't try to claim you care
If there ever was a moment, babe
I've not found it anywhere

Seems this story had to end
So, let's not look back and claim we're friends
It's easier just to cut the ties
No more pretend, and no more lies

My heart's okay, I'll be just fine
I'll snap right back with a little time
Through it all, I've found relief
I won't be swallowed up by grief

So, here's to you, to what we've been
…And to never looking back again
Here's to life, and to new beginnings
…And too finding strength…in gracious endings

poem by Leria Hawkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who'll Say Imagination Fails? 0939

Thesis
Spring sap and summer sun prepare a page
Autumnal sending shivers down the spine.
Nine months gestation, three [s]core years, life's stage
Gives way to Winter woes, wan Death's design.
Though leaves believe in triumph for a space
Of years Time runs rings round ridged wrinkled bark,
Night falls too quickly, few leave lasting trace
As bite turns toothless finds falsetto bark.
Then blue skies turn to grey, youth's chestnut tresses,
Adored once, age transmutes to silver pure,
Life's wick is snuffed by Fate, the trick distresses,
Is trapped by Time, pathology none cure.
And yet, who'll say imagination fails,
When your smile warms, storms cease, new lease lifts scales.

Antithesis
Such themes, of tattered trees, of timber logged,
Are far from sure to forward lover's cause.
Nor are nightmares, white hairs, or blood-lines clogged,
Guaranteed to win true love's applause.
Turn then that page, think rather each day brings
Open space to change, to challenge fears,
New light to shed wrong's stings, to spread strong wings
Anticipating flight beyond frontiers
To which embittered habit often clings.
Accompany imagination, steer
Limitless course which no misgivings brings,
Is both at peace with others, self, sincere.
Acclaimed is tolerance, condemned disguise,
Wellspring flame true fame personnifies.

(23 May 2001)

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

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Homerun - 1060

Related quotes

Homerun

Bud Free - Anagram Acrostic

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

Forever before Never

After the Carnival - Apres la Fete

Après la Fête

Time to decide

After the Carnival

You Can Still Be Free

Dare She?

No Fool No More

Refresh...Meant

We Live, Borrow, Die

In Days to Come

Orison (Give me your smile)

Am I mistaken A rant

Poetic Standard

Decide! - 1294 - Initial Version

Here's To Gracious Endings

Who'll Say Imagination Fails? 0939

En.Citatepedia^®.ro