Related quotes: Just deserted after make-up refuselled,...

Hot Air - Parody Witter Bynner Spectra

Just deserted after make-up refuselled,
I, who would have snoozled, hereafter
lose laughter, appear a foozle cahoozled,
as daft as a woozle or even dafter.
The hamstrung string is bamboozled,
snaking like a hung verdict noose loose from the rafters, -
when will the West wind flow less confuselled
blowing our just desserts as afters?

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes

Standing Out for the Outstanding

An hour, pretty flower, I’m agreed for,
a night, what delight beyond dreams!
a week would be bliss I would bleed for,
a month might be magic, it seems.
But a year, Dear, is more than I’d plead for,
though the hope for osmosis still gleams:
for longer, - as yet I’m not keyed for
although Love bright and bravely now beams.
to capture each rapture and encore,
if encore there be - how Time streams! -
and if I be THE one you would breed for
why not tarry a tide, b[r]ide as teams?

(Initial poem previous title A_Greed 5 June 1992 © Jonathan ROBIN
Parody revised 4 May 2005 as collaborative ring 43 contributions)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Keyless

High hopes are mocked by Time as, day by day,
efforts are hamstrung, - phantom puppet show
reflects our vain illusions’ ebb and flow.
Effects’ and causes’ ripple interplay
scoffs at control. Coincidence at play
enacts a dance whose patterns none may know.
Why seek for key? Self-righteous afterglow
can’t channel flow to stem the current grey?
Chance - Time’s harmony – Man won’t obey,
cares not a tinker’s curse for those who bow
would string, - self validating vertigo
soon bursts to leave brief, troubled, bubble bray
deflated, echo muted, song unheard.
Who’ll witness stand that strings were ever stirred?

19 September 2005 revised 30 October 2006

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Alone

A phone that seldom rings, or never,
Sounds like a life-line coiled, unused,
A link to light that stands accused,
Left hanging in the never-never.
Life is so short, so soon to sever,
A call can save, and one refused
Leaves empty heart, and mind bemused
Or all at sea. However clever
No diver plunges who would ever
Enthuse or feel the least amused
If, once he sank, trust was abused: -
Cut lines for reason whatsoever!
Remember then the friendly call
You make can take no time at all.

Acrostic sonnet and previous title As All Alone I Cry
robi03_0203_robi03_0000 ASX_JZX

(3 January 1991 revised 5 October 2006)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Dis Solution Dissipation

Weighted with darkness of impending doom
each waits alone, alike to friend and foe
as deaf as stone, as heedless of each blow.
Who cares what curtains drape eternal gloom?
No will, however strong, when death will loom,
pride vaunts oblivious to oblivion's slow
approaching icy grip from tip to toe -
as though dissolving essence could make room
for Hope at Act’s end. Wormcast catacomb,
Life’s dust dispersal tomb rehearsal show
is headlong blown along Time’s one way flow,
tomorrow naught can conjure from Past's womb.
From darkness stark may flesh fresh flake again,
unfettered spark, from wake wake, cry_oh_gain! ?

cry_oh_gain... cryogen

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Responsum to All my days are trances

A las the dream askance is
N or is Life what it seems,
A s swift pass all Time’s chances -
N ow here, now gone, - Man’s schemes
S mile once! Ephemeral glances
WER e spent on empty dreams!

All my days are trances

And all my days are trances
and all my nightly dreams
are where thy dark eye glances
and where they footstep gleams
by what ethereal dances
in what eternal streams...

Author Unknown

poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Logical Song, A Reply - Parody

Why, Jack, though attractive your rhyme,
there’s no conflict – temptation and fear
disappear when one has a good time –
with oneself, - subject/object my Dear!

Although beauty with age fades away,
one may still seize the joystick to buoy
and re-use it by night and by day,
so, pray, what’s the use of a boy?

I may add, Jack, with jacking to toy
is a sport each may teach in her way,
fornication’s no fun to enjoy
if before play one can’t reach “olé! ”

The debate’s not half mast, you can climb
up to Venus, from f[r]ont or from rear,
fornication’s too often false mime –
so, Jack! – have I made myself clear?

A Logical Song

Why, Chloe, thus squander your prime,
In debate between fear and temptation?
If adulterous love be a crime,
Why quarrel with plain fornication?

But your beauties with age you may lose:
Then seize the short moment of joy!
If not – then with confidence use,
What by using you cannot destroy.

Author Unknown

poem by Jonathan Robin
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New Tear's Candle

NEW TEAR'S CANDLE

Now here, now fled, bright light's soon snuffed, clock ticks,
E xistence fragile echoes with life’s play
W here visibility’s trimmed to today.
T ime up, ambitions down, as candle wicks
E xpire upon some midnight cold Fate picks.
A month or more, before horizons grey
R educe tired final flickers cinder gay, -
S pendthrift embers. Moving finger pricks
O ut bubble options, cares nor fiddlesticks
N or tinker’s curses for chance thrown away,
N or seeks reprieve for an extended stay. –
E phemeral our sojourn’s augenblicks.
T he loaf of bread, the flask of wine, boon mate,
S oon wane, recycled wax, evaporate.

1 January 2006 revised 8 September 2007
robi03_1400_robi03_0000 ASX_DEZ
Previous title New Tear's Sonnets

New Tear's Candle poem © Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Enlightenment

ENLIGHTENMENT
Wonder revolves word
whirlwind of change resolving
s[tr]a[n]ge conundrums stirred

s[tr]a[n]ge = sang strange sage stage an age range rang

4 April 2005 revised 3 January 2009
robi03_1190_robi03_0000 HXX_EIX
for previous version see below

Enlightenment

Wind whirls wonder word
beyond deaf and resolve, solves
all conundrums stirred...

12 April 2005

Enlightenment poem © Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Polyacrostic Palimpsest - What Will Follow?

Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests

Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition;

Acrostics to be found below:
What will follow - external
Name an Acrostic - vertical from middle
Robin Jonathan - double diagonal from middle

Palimpsest: A manuscript on which more than one text is written
with earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible.

Enjoy!

3 versions below:
4 March 2009
6 January 2007
2 January 1992 [Jonathan Wrobel]

What Will Follow?

Who knows what in our future lies ahead,
How will man's banana skin unpeel,
And thus show him what follows on, reveal
Tomorrow's stated story. Living dead,
We wait and ask vain sages why we're led
In ignorance to never-never's wheel.
Life is lost as man sets out, why steal
Little joys in scheming, joys gainsaid:
Fond intention ropes soon ties instead
Of painting scroll whose links naught need conceal.
Let be all fears, shine out as beacon real.
Look forward to trial met book open, read,
Or is all error, nightmares' terrors where
We puppets find chance rules us? Judgements spare!

What Will Follow?

Who knows what in our future lies ahead,
How will man's banana skin unpeel,
And thus show him what follows on, reveal
Tomorrow's stated story. Living dead,
We wait and ask vain sages why we're led
In ignorance to never-never's wheel.
Life is lost as man sets out, why steal
Little joys in scheming, joys gainsaid
Fate, in waiting, rarely runs, - instead
Our sins turns to our loss without appeal.
Let be all fears, shine out as beacon real.
Look forward to the future, - grow, love, wed -
Or all’s terror, nightmare error where
We soon will see climactic climes none spare…

© Jonathan Robin polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet written 2 January 1992 revised 6 January 2007

What will Follow?

Who knows what in our future lies ahead,
How will man's banana skin unpeel,
And thus show him what follows on, reveal
Tomorrow's stated story, live or dead.
We wait and ask vain sages why we're led
In ignorance to never-never's wheel.
Life is lost as man sets out, why steal
Little joys in scheming, joys when fed
Fulfill our hearts which lay too long abed.
Our selves we should revive, all sloth repeal,
Let be all fears, shine out as beacon real.
Look forward to the future, - grow, love, wed!
Or all is error, 'tis but nightmare where
We soon will see chance rules us without heir!

Jonathan Wrobel polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet © Jonathan Robin written 2 January 1992

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Pevolution

Pathways towards parthenogenesis
though today’s Science Fiction may seem,
tomorrow shall channel - no pen*s is
indispen[i]sable, that’s a pipe dream!

poem by Jonathan Robin
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How do I parody? after Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How do I love thee?

How Do I Parody?

How true I parody! Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, taste copy paste insight
My mind can reach into your writing quite
Through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
post hosting feed, by sun, electric light.
In vers libres freely, sonnet set to right;
I pastiche purely, rarely spurning praise.
Reparody with passion put to use
through griefs, beliefs, rehearsed, though wanting faith.
I parody love’s theme, who dreams accuse.
Newfangled paints b[l]end colour bending brea[d]th,
Smiles, tears, [p]rune poem’s life! - and, if judge choose,
gold goblets garner, googled after death.

Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee

12 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 and 30 September 2009
for previous versions see below robi3_1323_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX

________________

How do I Parody?

How do I parody? Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, with taste and with insight,
my mind may reach into your writing quite
through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
intimate grace, by sun, electric light.
in vers libres freely, sonnet set to right.
I pastiche purely, rarely turn from Praise,
reparody with passion put to use
through your old griefs, beliefs, though wanting faith.
I parody with love I’d never lose,
use paints newfangled, shading E.B.B.ing breath,
still showing your life's smiles, tears, for, should judge choose,
my golden goblet fame lives loved past death.

Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
_____________

Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below

Sonnet XLIII

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Elisabeth Barrett BROWNING 1806_1861

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Poetics

Some from within some from without
without a doubt flow true
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to glow, then grows anew.
Through weaving in and weeding out -
touch intuitions cue -
from phases past fair phrases spin
through threads which more threads brew.

Thus in and out and round about
rhyme climbs as curlicue
expands ideas, wins interest in
both content, form, will woo
the readers who fresh insights scout
both options chosen, those fates glue,
into life's sins, its losses, wins,
would revelation view.

Poetics

Some from within some from without
without a doubt flow true
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to grow, and then glows too
through weaving in and weeding out -
touch intuitions know
from phases past so phrases last
through threads which more threads sow...

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Parody

Parody in playful way displays
Appropriation of intents, sense, form,
Reversing roles while wearing uniform,
Or, ‘armed against a sea of troubles’ weighs
Defiance ‘gainst a double’s narrow gaze
Yet inner truth respects whatever norm
Perpetuates crowd loud whose rowdy storm
As waves upon life’s sea Time must erase.
Replay, revision, rhythmic interplays,
Original outshines, - wise words transform
Dull into fun, blind minds undone, cold, warm,
Yet still informing, never still each phrase.
Post scriptum’s rhyming couplet we adjoin
So Parody should never sign ‘purloin’!

[c) Jonathan Robin robi3_1299 acrostic sonnet written 25 January 2007

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Page and Pageant

Page, pageant, dreams veil daily quail trail tale.
Advancing age culls w[r]inkled p[r]awns, the Gods
Gain one by one life's pieces till dank sods
Enwrap what, carefree once, aped beauty hale.
Another well earned ‘bust’! Who strong were, [f[r]]ail
Now lie forgotten for Time's ruthless odds
D[r]own [fl]out all memory. Man's born, his nods
Prevail threescore before [str]etched powers fail
As one more stem beneath the thresher's flail,
Gathered in, is merged with claymate clods.
Each eager starts the day, home weary plods
As night light swallows, chaff before the gale.
NIRVANA's spell is scuttled in VAIN RAN
Thief Time’s [d]ice reef brief grief leaf life of Man.

(10 June 1992 revised 18 October 2006/Poem © Jonathan ROBIN Acrostic sonnet – Page and Pageant)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Platitudes Refused

Platitudes are proffered where they please
And even where anathama as well
To bestow trite title, - few truth tell -
Refused where true respect feels ill at ease.
In writing in this princely style, no knees
Conscience cracks as chalk's not cheese to swell
King and khan or knight. Know most are shell
Clad in courage claimed, create false frieze.
As you alone the answers have, I seize
Real reverence, rely on no crude spell
Rewritten and pretend true rings. A knell
Awaits he who, flattering, gleans fees.
Llama coats can last, though only you
Enjoy the duffle which warms greatly too!

NOTE:
External acrostic Patrick Carrale repeated once vertically and twice diagonally from the centre

[c] Jonathan Robin Polyacrostic Palimpsest written 2 January 1992

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Ses Mots Sont Ici II

Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests

Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition
Acrostics to be found below
Ses mots sont ici [vertical acrostic from 1st Line S of has] [French – his/her words are here]
Susan Sellers SS [1 vertical external and 2 diagonal bottom up acrostics keyed as above to the 1st line S of has]

Palimpsest:
A manuscript on which more than one text is written with
earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible.

Ses Mots Sont Ici II

Sweet friend has Time Time conquered in your heart,
used no successes’ superficial glow
somehow as jest so settle life as though
all fades, - a dream's drawn ready to depart?
Not in the years of age should these thoughts start!
So often sleep steals laughter, ends Time’s flow,
expels old love, sends slight grace, - then we go.
life dies away as cold evenings chart
Life is a song whose chorus sings: Depart!
Even now cause and effect knock, so
reward each instant, Time shan't wait, you know.
So seek within, till safe your soul, then part.
Surrender true choice not, return trust's song
Sure to evolve, find Way, may soul stay strong...

16 May 2005 revised 6 January 2007
robi3_1254_robi3_0000 BQS_DZX

for alternative version see

Susan Sellers

Sweet friend has Time Time conquered in your heart.
Used no successes’ superficial glow
Somehow as jest so swift adopted though
A glued remora’s maw right hard to part.
Not in the years of freedom should one start!
So often sleep steals laughter, and, Time’s flow,
Expels old love, sends slight sursis. We go.
Lives leave ere summer’s eves grow long, ends chart.
life as silence soon falls stricken by Time's dart.
Even now, while in fame your name may grow,
Ribald critics try, false praise bestow.
So seek within, till safe your soul, - spurn mart.
Surprises will chains burst, turn tables, - you’re
Sure to win, and find Eve’s apple’s [s]core...

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Spirit Spits Pits

[S]tale smoke,
Pale bloke,
I‘m broke,
Rum coke
In poke
Time’s joke …
So Croak!

13 April 2005 revised 28 March 2009 robi3_1201_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ

Previous title Cost of Dying – for previous version see below

Cost of Sin

Stale smoke,
I’m broke,
No joke.

13 April 2005 robi3_1201_robi3_0000 AWX_DJZ

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Poetical Triptych Trick Trip

POETICAL TRIPTYCH TRICK TRIP
I

Poetry is metamorphosis
Of heart and mind combined, -
Emotions surge to urge osmosis,
To merge what ‘chance’ can find
Revealed behind blind synthesis
Yoking letters neatly lined.

Poetry is music by another name,
Or in some manner harmony applied,
Explaining day to day occurrences supplied
To offer eurythmic interpretation game
Responding with logic on magic patter[n] frame.
Yet the alphabetic formula hid inside
Enables one to say one’s peace, with self confide
Much which must, ecstatic, “out”. Emotion’s flame
Outpours feelings plastic, amoeba-like to claim
The victim of elastic interplay to guide
Instincts in search of prey. But, pray, what when the tide
Of energy harmonic falters, who’s to blame?
Not soul but spirit enters into print,
Sends signals out which others’ glasses tint.

III

Poetry: alphabetical exercise linguistical
Overcoming excess, slick success stylistical,
Excluding artifice artistical, puny puristical,
To create with comprehensive characteristical
Respect for rythm, rhyme and meaning meta-magic mystical -
Yet melting emotions alchemistical.

11 September 1995 revised 23 May 2008
robi03_0770_robi03_0000 ASX_IXX

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
TRIPTYCH STITCH SANDWICH TRIP TIP
S[w]ing...Heart'S....String
Thoughts.Ch arT......These
In............TempI......Ideas
Taut....... .InstanT....Tempting
Click........TantriC.....Chic
Hear........ SandwicH.Here

triple acrostic written 22 November 2006 revised 23 May 2008

TRIPTYCH ST....ITCH TRIP

String on Heart’s skeinS,
Threads tie, Cast, kniT!
In time, Train I
Taut pins In, ouT,
Click clack. TantriC -
Heaven Sends sigH

14 May 1996
robi03_0810_robi03_0000 AXX_IMX

TRIPTYCH ST....ITCH TRIP II

S[tr]ing...H eart’S
Thought C harT
In...........T empI
Taut.......I nstanT
Click......T antriC -
Here......S andwicH

triple acrostic
22 November 2006
robi03_1508_robi03_0000 AQX_IKX

TRYPTICH
Drip, drip, drip, slip trip
trickle ignores Time’s sickle
drop, drop, dropp crypt..tic

24 October 2006 revised 23 May 2008
robi03_1484_robi03_0000 HXX_ZXX

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sheepish Bo Peep Recombined

Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
and cannot tell where to find them,
splice more DNA for cloning today
with no zoning law to unwind them...

[c] Jonathan Robin Parody Bo Peep written 27 November 2008

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Ambiguity Arose - after Rose Aylmer Walter Savage LANDOR

Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
for Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.

Where is the flush, the lush embrace,
starred eyes that carefree twinkled?
Night draws its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries sinkled.

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and voice divinely tinkled,
if all behind be ugly, base,
with mind both blind and wrinkled?

Some say unique is every case,
eyes amber, periwinkled,
yet all too soon return to base,
AND DNA's ash sprinkled.

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
bright eye sublimely crinkled,
each must a double lie encase
life left confirms this inkle!

© Jonathan Robin – robi3_0313 parody written 17 December 1991 revised 14 May 2007 and 31 October 2008 Parody Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864 Rose Aylmer for previous versions - title Rose Aylmer's Cousin - see below

Rose Aylmer's Cousin

Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
as Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.

Where is the flush, the lush embrace,
starred eyes that carefree twinkled?
Night draws its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries sinkled.

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and voice dIvinely tinkled,
if all behind be ugly, base,
with mind both blind and wrinkled?

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and eye sublimely crinkled,
should it a double lie encase
and life confirm this inkle? ...

Rose Aylmer's Cousin

Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
for Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.

The flush once full that did embrace,
those eyes that carefree twinkled,
Night pulls its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries crinkled.

Rose Aylmer

Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
Rose Aylmer, all were thine.

Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and signs
I consecrate to thee.

Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Hot Air - Parody Witter Bynner Spectra

Related quotes

Standing Out for the Outstanding

Keyless

Alone

Dis Solution Dissipation

Responsum to All my days are trances

A Logical Song, A Reply - Parody

New Tear's Candle

Enlightenment

Polyacrostic Palimpsest - What Will Follow?

Pevolution

How do I parody? after Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How do I love thee?

Poetics

Parody

Page and Pageant

Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Platitudes Refused

Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Ses Mots Sont Ici II

Spirit Spits Pits

Poetical Triptych Trick Trip

Sheepish Bo Peep Recombined

Ambiguity Arose - after Rose Aylmer Walter Savage LANDOR

En.Citatepedia^®.ro