Ignition Recognition 0796
We, swathed in shadow-dream by night
from prying eyes ride out of sight,
none see us there.
You, super nova, shining bright
shall shiver-quiver with delight,
my hand your hair.
We toss, we cross from left to right,
adrenalin excited quite
from time-line where
wild whispers wraith-race round at quite
a rate, chased waist, taste, kiss requite
as everywhere
our earth spins like a top, black, white,
fade as we both incite, excite
twinned souls laid bare
from whom sounds issue as stage-fright
[f]lash feelings pulse, what's wrong? what's right?
whip need[l]ing care!
Lush rush primaeval lusts invite
to revelation as insight
flushes despair.
When inside out returns to bite,
for more both plead, in depth find height
too sweet to bear.
Hands twin heart, skin, win win sheds spite,
transcends dimensions, knows we might
be anywhere.
No thighs, bond_age ties, cries, just flight
beyond stars seen when day and night,
earth, fire, sea, air
compounded are as they ignite in recognition's second sight,
caress hors pair!
(9 November 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Ecstatic Repassage
She sought true light, he taught delight
blue skies through beryl polyhedral,
aragonite eyes expedite
replied declaring ex-cathedral
that mindset tight moved on from right,
wrong well defined, scarce subtrihedral,
to dreams by night which dawn's flush might
blush at in fashion quite primaeval.
Lip service rite quite recondite
was dropped in favour - speak no evil -
of flesh unite, fresh fires ignite,
false frontiers, tears, fade past retrieval.
Twinned soul song bright tu[r]ned to insight
between French Doctor mediaeval
and auto-didact erudite,
became true blessing, joy coeval
with farhenheit sword soaring white
hot, melting point reached. Each upheaval
brought satellite stars, blood rush quite
ecstactic for orgasmic reprieval.
(18 December 2008 revised 7 October 2009
robi03_1828_robi03_0000 WXX_LXX)
Responsum
Lip-reading too much recondite
through telephone but not for mind
which to mind unite, fresh fires ignite,
new skyline, uncharted, discovering renewal.
Twinned soul song soon tu[r]ned to light
between French Doctor mediaeval
and auto-didact erudite,
became true blessing, joy coeval
with sharing words soaring up through white
blanks, once covered by a dark ink, black,
upheaving static stratums to feelings festival
ecstactic for magic reprieval.
(Maude C 19 December 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Anthology Prepared
His wish was wit with wisdom well to wed
within an epigram, - he found instead
some thought slight wit was there and that was slight,
he witless seemed to others, lacked insight.
He kept in sight their criticism there,
and kept from sight verse, parodies hors pair,
for some insipid seemed, rose-water, trite, -
but then began to fly another kite.
He pruned, he tuned, communed, was often led
to pulp the offspring fond that Time had bled,
until the flow could sew in framwork tight
both harmony and sense, in fancy’s flight.
For the first time he’s spurred to offer fare, -
incisive works beyond the critics’ care,
will cast no anxious glance to who’d indict
with bark or bite the verses seen tonight.
Dust swept by one who sought to look ahead,
through Internet a reputation spread, -
but what is fame, a lighthouse in the night,
a passing beam before eternal night...
May this collection transcend Time the slayer,
to challenge finite ends is poet’s prayer.
May this selection stimulate, invite
reflection, humour, pleasure bright.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Country Child
I’m country child, spurn town defiled, pollution makes me wild.
When Spring’s waft breeze soft tickles trees, from beaten tracks I keep,
with heart beguiled by creatures wild, through woodland dim and deep
my way make mid the forest hid with self am reconciled.
From city guil[e]d, souls’ stress, soles riled, I’ve strayed, at peace abide
with sun and shade on woodland glade, in valley, mountain steep,
delight each sense with joy intense, - a harvest rich to reap
from Spring which rings till Autumn brings its fruits by bushels piled.
I fly with bee from tree to tree’s bright blossom pink and white.
No cities know pure streams, dawn’s glow, air fresh and fragrant where
there is no smoke, where folk won’t yoke each other to despair.
Suburban spite, skyscrapers’ height, can’t quite convince as right.
Imagine plight of elf or sprite confined too tight! Maid, knight
stroll hand in hand through leafy land in freedom everywhere,
no asking why, nor spoke reply, we’d need, nor seek, nor care,
for spirit mild of open child soars through delight, finds flight.
Love’s love’s invite, both greet the light when dawn’s first flush is born
with badger, bird, with lowing herd, we’d sit and stare, take time,
no clocks absurd, no siren whirred, should compromise love’s rhyme,
so haste with me to taste joys free, no more to fee in pawn.
Lets brave the wind with hair unpinned, love at first sight ‘tis styled,
eyes seeking eyes flush fresh surprise through morning, noon and night.
As seasons flow all reasons go, know heights, no lows, excite
summations which together stitch two into one beguiled.
Nature’s Child
Oh, I’m a child of the country, spurning city defiled and grim,
my heart’s beguiled by creatures wild, and the woodlands deep and dim.
When the warm south winds fall, soothing, from the ferny forest’s feet,
come the nightingales’ songs each even, in madrigals mild and sweet.
For I am a child of the country, Spring orchards soften my sight
when the bees fly to the blossomed boughs, whose buds lie pink and white.
Then hand in hand in the sunlight stroll my soul’s betrothed and I,
nor need we words to question, nor words to heed reply.
Yes I am a child of the country, longing for lush fields at dawn,
where the air feels fresh and fragrant, when sun’s first faint flush is born,
then thrush appeals to starling: ‘Fie, forsake thy stealing way! ’
and the badger cubs, and the birds, and I, welcome the break of day!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Whispers From Other Sky
Cries the night in silence
Covers up the starshine
By the tears of darkness
Cries the night!
Cries the night unaware
Words of pain
Whispers of harassing
Cries the night!
Fade away the rashness
Fall down the mercy plea
With the last shadow
On the earth!
Dying eyes...beholding!
Dying ears...hearing!
Feeling from the other
Other sky!
Whispers from the other sky!!!
Whispers from the other sky!!!
Other sky unknowing
Oh!
Beyond the end
Kingdom of the other
Viskningar!
song performed by by Undercroft
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pillow Keep
I laid down my eyes
having no need of them;
your sight
lives within.
I lay down my hands
for having held you
will forever suffice.
I need less air and oxygen
for your inhalation
that night
will my soul keep.
I have laid down
words and verbs,
gerunds
and verbal quests-
language fails
in our cathedral.
My lips
retreat having
received your
single kiss;
hyperbole
blushes
not tribute enough,
and all sits
best
inside my dream.
Because while
you and I have not met
we both know
no kiss is sweeter than
Kisses
of the Dream.
No hand warmer
than Loves' Hand
born in long longing long.
So you and I
linger here
in the day-time
and night-time
conjuring's-
we both
here last forever
at our singular best
sugar sweet inside our dreams.
Good night my Prince
whisper inside my pillow keep
for yet another night
of golden, gauzy dreams.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Dark Fire
Fire, dark and burning bright
Bright as day, yet, gives no light
In the shadows of the night
Take away immortal sight
Blind soul eyes with black twilight
Banish day and burn the night
Remove sin from Heavens sight
Fire, twist and taint the once pure light
Heaven fought against your might
In the end, He lost the fight
Pure souls surrender to the evil light
As shadows move to reign the night
Angel's wings flutter in fearful flight
In the shadow of your light
Fire, sweet and sin filled bane
Make the devil go insane
As you burn his skin with acid rain
His screams are songs wrought in pain
His wake of Hell’s dark fire wanes
Death and pain are what he gains
Shadows of the devil’s bane
Wash away his sin with His holy name
Fire of the dragon’s heart
Don’t let us tear the world apart
poem by Amanda Swain
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A Copying Cat
A day / A night
A pet / A sight
Paws / Thy Claws
Fur white / Hellkite
Small teeth / Thy Jaws
Red, brown? White, grey? Born stark?
At night all cats are dark
Bear crown? Without way? No marque?
In the dark all cats' labels are park
All cats are cat, at night,
No doubts about their power, their might,
Let none question the fear they incite,
'Cause for advantage they have cat's spite,
And night is quite the cat's best site,
For proven the fact, which strangeness is quite,
That is at the dark where cat's do their flight,
And none's is worst than a very cat's bite
For none can be a cat's copycat,
And no cat can avoid copying cats
poem by by unknown author
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The Two Spirits: An Allegory
FIRST SPIRIT
O thou, who plum'd with strong desire
Wouldst float above the earth, beware!
A Shadow tracks thy flight of fire--
Night is coming!
Bright are the regions of the air,
And among the winds and beams
It were delight to wander there--
Night is coming!SECOND SPIRIT
The deathless stars are bright above;
If I would cross the shade of night,
Within my heart is the lamp of love,
And that is day!
And the moon will smile with gentle light
On my golden plumes where'er they move;
The meteors will linger round my flight,
And make night day.FIRST SPIRIT
But if the whirlwinds of darkness waken
Hail, and lightning, and stormy rain;
See, the bounds of the air are shaken--
Night is coming!
The red swift clouds of the hurricane
Yon declining sun have overtaken,
The clash of the hail sweeps over the plain--
Night is coming!SECOND SPIRIT
I see the light, and I hear the sound;
I'll sail on the flood of the tempest dark,
With the calm within and the light around
Which makes night day:
And thou, when the gloom is deep and stark,
Look from thy dull earth, slumber-bound,
My moon-like flight thou then mayst mark
On high, far away.----
Some say there is a precipice
Where one vast pine is frozen to ruin
O'er piles of snow and chasms of ice
Mid Alpine mountains;
And that the languid storm pursuing
That winged shape, for ever flies
Round those hoar branches, aye renewing
Its aëry fountains.
Some say when nights are dry and dear,
And the death-dews sleep on the morass,
Sweet whispers are heard by the traveller,
Which make night day:
And a silver shape like his early love doth pass
Upborne by her wild and glittering hair,
And when he awakes on the fragrant grass,
He finds night day.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Pigalle IV - 0094 - Current Version
By cell phone, near a neon light,
or corner strip club's sleazy door,
gad the sad glow-worms of the night.
Do not ask them why or wherefore
forlorn, they set their sorry sight
with weary chatter, wary spite.
On call for all, in somewhat light
apparel to attract the more
each paints faint mirage of delight
ephemeral which most deplore.
In house or out, they story write
which makes dark reading few recite.
Unenvied, mo[]) rning, twilight,
lit cigarettes, hearts, ankles sore,
strutting the street to left and right.
Do not ask them who they care for,
with rights in pawn through diverse plight,
wasted, worn, self-tortured quite.
Exploited, often blameless blight,
b[l]eached far from the social shore.
unless you [b]reach insight,
do not ask them what they're there for
as mens' manipulations might
be highlighted: bed, board and bite!
‘Tis men who would themselves excite
perverting innocence to store
for gain, for power to incite
or compensate libido poor,
who blackmail, tight rein run through fright,
yet no-one here is lily white.
(20 August 2004)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Aura
The air was dark
The moon was dark
The night was dark
The cloud was dark
The heat was dark
The stars were black
The birds were black
The eyes were black
The shadows were black
The planes were black
A sound of night
The hearts of night
A chase at night
A fall at night
No help at night
The night is night
Where is my sight
I have no sight
Your light was sight
No light no sight
No one in sight
The dark in sight
Don't call my name
What's my name
They call my name
That's not my name
Who said its my name
I have no name
You took my same
It was our same
She was our same
She's now your same
Its all the same
I'm not the same
Judas and my hand
You took my hand
'I do' my hand
You kissed my hand
You broke my hand
You fell my hand
A tear in sand
A heart in sand
A body in sand
Alone in sand
A dust in sand
At home in sand.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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Premonition
DEAR heart, good-night!
Nay, list awhile that sweet voice singing
When the world is all so bright,
And the sound of song sets the heart a-ringing,
Oh, love, it is not right—
Not then to say, 'Good-night.'
Dear heart, good-night!
The late winds in the lake weeds shiver,
And the spray flies cold and white.
And the voice that sings gives a telltale quiver —
'Ah, yes, the world is bright,
But, dearest heart, good-night!'
Dear heart, good-night!
And do not longer seek to hold me!
For my soul is in affright
As the fearful glooms in their pall enfold me.
See him who sang how white
And still; so, dear, good-night.
Dear heart, good-night!
Thy hand I'll press no more forever,
And mine eyes shall lose the light;
For the great white wraith by the winding river
Shall check my steps with might.
So, dear, good-night, good-night!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Buttocks of Divine Delight (A Whimsey)
O buttocks of divine delight,
You give old ladies such a fright,
They wince and shudder at the sight
Of buttocks shining in the night!
And tits and thighs and pubic hair
Have driven wise men to despair,
But don't they realise the joy
Awaiting every girl and boy?
The time has come to sup the wine,
What's mine is yours, and yours is mine!
Let's mingle minds and bodies too,
Their marriage is now overdue! !
Don't be afraid of Love's sweet pleasure,
It's waiting there for you to treasure,
But the corpse will shiver in the tomb
Far from the comfort of the womb!
The maggots will enjoy the feast
When every living thought has ceased,
The human frame will turn to dust
That once rejoiced in carnal lust! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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He calls me Honky.
My friend’s as black as ebony
and he delights in teasing me.
He says I am the coloured man
I can’t deny it no one can.
My hair is blond my eyes are blue.
His words are obviously true,
My facial skin is pink and white.
to anyone with normal sight
His eyes, his hair and skin are black
I cannot counter his attack
But he’s my mate so I don’t care
His banter isn’t hard to bear
We’re much the same bar for our skin.
What matters most must lie within.
Monday,16 November 2009
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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When I leave
When my arm is cold and numb
And laid to its final rest,
What would be the last thought they would have
If you could remember or relive one last quest.
When my eyes close their very last time
What would be the last sight for them to see,
Would it be a sight, that gave a delight,
To be cherished by my soul through me.
When my fingers loose their sense of touch
What touch would be missed most of all,
Would it be the roses in the summertime,
Or the many leaves, that I touched in fall.
When my lips quiver their last time to shut
What would be the last feeling for it to miss,
Would it be to say a prayer or speak a thought
Or would it be to perform one last kiss.
When it is time for me to leave this Earth
I know that I must go all alone,
Sadly I will leave and happily I will go
As I live a empty world, to enter a new home.
Before my arm goes they need one last hug
Then it will go with pain and delight.
Before my eyes close shut as surely they’ll do
They will see Heaven in sight that night.
Before my fingers loose their sense of touch
A loves hair they would need to brush
They must feel the softness that they once knew,
Then they will leave, with just a hush.
My heart would beat one last time for you
And for my lips, what would be their finale wish,
Would it be a prayer or a poem to recite
Or would it be a last goodbye kiss.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Igniter
As the stars ignite
the dark night
so
recognition and delight
in a student's eyelight
do a teacher's
heart excite
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Upon A Haystack On A Southern Night
Upon a haystack in lands of South,
I lay, while facing skies of night,
The choir of stars, alive and couth,
Was trembling, spread at every side.
The earth, mute as a dream half-hidden,
Was fast receding into space,
And I, as if the first in Eden,
Alone met the black night’s face.
Did I race to the depth profound,
Or did the stars race strait to me?
In mighty hands, it seemed me how,
I hanged above abysmal sea.
With heart, so sinking and bewildered,
I measured with my look a depth,
Into which, every moment sighted,
I sink, and nobody helps.
poem by Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet
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Many Roads Await
Many links extended, t[r]end outwards into light,
As rainbow drops descended dispense due dew delight.
New roads must be defended to stimulate, rewrite
Years starting, for years ended show slight reflection bright.
Right, wrong, misapprehended, are neither black nor white,
Out and inside when [bl]ended, intolerance indict.
As wheels turn, Time, suspended, prepares for further flight,
Dream theme streams are intended to startle, day and night.
Spread is each page portended as message to incite
All walls to fall, bridge mended, ways narrow dynamite
With fervence unpretended so men worldwide unite.
All roads to Rome, befriended, help ease the people's plight
Imply toil, tears expended gain better world in sight.
Tomorrow's tracks extended just future must invite.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Magic Unfurled in Stilly Night
MAGIC UNFURLED IN STILLY NIGHT
If fair stars glitter in my eyes from you they're sent 'tis no surprise.
Magic unfurled in stilly night, imagination wings free flight,
Advances past life's present plight, to share with you new world's delight.
Unusual lustre in my eyes from you reflects as bright sunrise
Deft spins earth's orbit's winning skies, dark light returns with shared insight.
Each 'twenty-four' speed [s]print as one - see fairies' tasks are never done!
If fair stars' sparkle represents tenderness where each assents,
May verse returned to sender's plane retain the quintessential plain,
All's well, remains, each heart sustains through to, from, each, pane eases pains.
Unforeseen our recompense as new dreams span both 'whither' 'whence'
Dispersing day's incompetence, these energies increase, intense,
Effacing care and worries, - one from two may spring, from struggles, fun.
If scintillation smoothes away the fuss, the cuss of dusty day,
Mending rays send fey touch bright, beam aura gold which somehow might
As epidemic, spread aright, for world polluted care, heal quite.
Unlooked for glister sent from you to you returns through interplay.
Dawn day prepares to permeate two tender hearts that chart shared fate,
Enchanted future cycle's spun through one in two, you too we won, won't be undone.
18 May 2008
robi03_1385_robi03_0000 AXX_LXX
(c) Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Since I Laid Eyes On You
(Ellen Shipley/Billy Steinberg/Sandy Stewart)
Why did I show my hand
Now you know your wish
Is my command
I never longed for things I didn't have
But that's no longer true
Since I laid eyes on you
I know I'm not the same
I don't need a fortune
Don't care about fame
But my soul is a burning flame
Can't sleep the whole night through
Since I laid eyes on you
I want your sweet caress
I dream of your tenderness
Oh I never, ever felt like this
I swear
Look what you've done for me
Oh boy, it's poetry
When I see the wind in your hair
The tears well up inside
Oh, what will turn the tide
And I've been waiting for you to decide
That you love me too
Since I laid eyes on you
What else could I do
Since I laid eyes on you
You, you, you, you
On you
Oh, yeah
Since I laid eyes
On you, you, you
song performed by by Faith Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fresh Dimensions
Magic passion lifts aloft life’s song,
as love's light flexes butterfly-bright wings,
unchains hope's scope, reclaims aims' heartfelt rings,
dreams forward stream, finds feelings fair and strong.
Enigmas are resolved - false right, true wrong -
curb rash rush to judgement, insight brings
on innate understanding, softly sings
revealing fresh dimensions where “belong”
real empathy may entertain, prolong.
Invite proactive flight free from kite strings,
exile Time’s agression, salve past stings -
response sees through all torture-mirage tongs
attains new plane where each from each learns much,
spins sentiments meant to enhance shared touch.
10 June 2006 revised 18 May 2008 for previous version see below
Breathless passion lifts aloft life’s song,
Existence flexes butterfly-bright wings,
Leads to true aims attained, - unchained heart rings
Ideal dream’s forward stream, finds feelings strong.
No preconceptions air false right, true wrong,
Dare rush to judgement, for fresh insight brings
An innate understanding as scope sings
Boundless expansion where the word “belong”
Empathy may entertain, prolong.
Leave Time’s agression, all unpleasant stings,
Invite proactive flight free from kite strings.
New doors lead into sharing far from nong!
Draw inspiration to enhance and cheer
A reach where each from each learns vision clear.
10 June 2006
Fresh Dimensions Poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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