In Finite Terms - 0987
When Fate's soft tick flicks safely by
when fête holds sway old Time must fly
"and not a cloud obscures the sky"
why worry, pleasure now deny?
For joys tomorrow soul soars high.
True, some are smitten, springs run dry,
yet few heed inner warning cry.
to mist dimiss, wave Time goodbye.
Fate may be written, it may lie,
behind the veil is passing sigh,
more is assumed in store so why
seek answers which no gold can buy.
For, if there's more, hope cannot die,
if nothing, then why worry, high
and low in turn their fate defy,
then wave forgot sink twixt sea, sky.
Life's transience, quite underrated,
too rarely is appreciated
as if the spirits, once elated,
could keep their thrust unmitigated.
What lies beyond the tombstone dated
has never been elucidated,
though many have prevaricated
redemption offer unabated.
Yet dances led, with lead unweighted,
quickstep through life, Death unawaited.
Why worry if the dice are weighted
with finite term anticipated?
When Time speeds up and hell-for-leather
is pressured onwards, storm tossed feather.
how drear each day to wonder whether
tomorrow's game we'll play together!
Ignored too often altogether
are ice-burst pipes in balmy weather,
or sacrificial goat on tether,
when life's free run on hill, vale, heather.
Dim is victim's prescience
despite disaster's imminence,
secure perception complements
self-satisfaction's arguments.
Men draw their sense of permanence
from self-supporting evidence
behind life's surface comforts whence
much is drawn, save diffidence.
Life's patterns in advance may churn
a warning aura we discern
through experience, concern,
here cause, effect, respect must earn
before anxieties return
to haunt, to taunt, or bridges burn.
Life's patterns in advance who turn
to true advantage, all peace yearn.
Unwise who'll sapless, saphead, spurn
the hints that candles one can't burn
at both ends long. Yet each must learn
alone wheels turn. Urn soon we earn.
How much of man's self-confidence
is self-sustaining self-defence,
a mechanism fear prevents
although at prudence expense.
The coin cards of coincidence,
that noise to others represents,
turn to advantage, making sense
of elements which signs dispense
which seed the sentiment events
may be controlled as 'whither' 'whence'
seem linked by dream intelligence
that lasts although we're hurried hence.
When cloud free shines the morning star
dawn's rose grows gold, presumes too far,
as if no shadow near or far
could compromise success, could jar,
could ever dowse life's vital fire,
as if, once launched, the poet's lyre
could chant forever and inspire,
nor bore nor jaw resentful ire.
Man's pride still heeds the siren call
til morn when free flight turns free fall.
that day one lesson learns, that small
sweet seems to gleam when night threats all.
Then narrow the circumference
of independence seems, intense
the pressure, the predicaments,
when arguments can't influence,
invalidate or overturn,
decisions others would confirm,
when former freedoms won't return
to light horizons dim and tern.
Those who rely on providence
too soon may find at their expense
that everlasting affluence
rhymes rarely with experience.
There is no 'Ave' no 'Marie',
no Eden for eternity.
Perjured he who'd guarantee
an endless hour in houri spree.
There is no golden throne and grand
when falls life's last coarse grain of sand
[the spectre of reign's written hand
of course reins in things out of hand].
There's no white rabbit, magic hat,
no second innings where the bat
defies Time's ball. When that is that!
dreams of karmic streams fall flat.
When Fate's hand, tricked and trumped, turns black
dark Present weighs, no turning back
to glories past. When cares attack
fair opportunities all lack.
Reflect! Each given day completed
is stay of execution greeted
before the final judgement meted
when hope for fair appeal's defeated.
Reflect! What future radiance shines
For anyone beyond life's lines?
Enjoy today! The Present signs
itself, as Cause Effect aligns.
(16 Febuary 2002)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
In_Finite Terms - 0987
Eternity in sand grain signed
spans time in rhyme that, here, needs bind
through more than thirty lines assigned
to blossom fair [h]our prose aligned.
Perceptions springing from the mind
leave toils and troubles far behind,
discover karmic scope designed
to open vistas well inclined.
Societal design supposes
though Earth is not a bed of roses
adaptation interposes
evolving fixed-line blind proposes,
to steer change, range beyond laws Moses
exposed. Insight metamorphoses
closed-mind comfort zone life shows is
mirage mirror. All transposes.
Wide world, or vision narrow held
as crutch confronting harsh fate knelled,
too often interface is held
to preconceptions neatly spelled.
Perception cannot be compelled
to toe the line, fine print upheld,
must seek holistic outlines, meld
both seen, unseen, from naught withheld.
Yet few dare challenge paradox,
or view life from outside cant box,
and many fear, when door unlocks,
free choice, will shiver in their socks,
when faced with options seen as blocks,
complain about their starting-blocks,
call into question how life's clocks
seem overtime to run hard knocks.
Without self-knowledge who can judge
events, relationships, and budge
responding not reacting, sludge
discard, draw trumps, yet not begrudge
chance dance elsewhere, who need a nudge
to measure, pleasure, not prejudge
each unexpected, sundry smudge.
Self-confidence prerequisite
remains permitting cap to fit
while blinker free and insight lit
must motives meld both sense and wit.
Care not for sects too tightly knit,
which come with some predestined kit
to offer strictures roast on spit
which turns around redemption's writ.
When life's soft tick flicks swiftly by
when fête holds sway old Time must fly
'and not a cloud obscures the sky'
why worry, pleasure now deny?
For joys tomorrow soul soars high.
True, some are smitten, springs run dry,
yet few heed inner warning cry.
to mist dimiss, wave Time goodbye.
Fate may be written, it may lie,
behind the veil is passing sigh,
more is assumed in store so why
seek answers which no gold can buy.
For, if there's more, hope cannot die,
if nothing, then why worry, high
and low in turn their fate defy,
then wave forgot sink twixt sea, sky.
Life's transience, quite underrated,
too rarely seems appreciated
as if the spirits, once elated,
could keep their thrust unmitigated.
What lies beyond the tombstone dated
has never been elucidated, -
though many have prevaricated
redemption offer unabated.
Yet dances led, with lead unweighted,
quickstep through life, Death unawaited.
Why worry if the dice are weighted
with finite term anticipated?
Perception closely seems related
to actions oft anticipated
by intuition which, unsated,
seeks 'more' before true core is stated.
When Time speeds up and hell-for-leather
is pressured onwards, storm tossed feather.
how drear each day to wonder whether
tomorrow's game we'll play together!
Ignored too often altogether
are ice-burst pipes in balmy weather,
or sacrificial goat on tether,
when life's free run on hill, vale, heather.
Dim is victim's prescience
despite disaster's imminence,
secure perception complements
self-satisfaction's arguments.
Men draw their sense of permanence
from self-supporting evidence
behind life's surface comforts whence
much is drawn, save diffidence.
Life's patterns in advance may churn
a warning aura we discern
through experience, concern,
here cause, effect, respect must earn
before anxieties return
to haunt, to taunt, or bridges burn.
Life's patterns in advance who turn
to true advantage, all peace yearn.
Unwise who'll sapless, saphead, spurn
the hints that candles one can't burn
at both ends long. Yet each must learn
alone wheels turn. Urn soon we earn.
How much of man's self-confidence
is self-sustaining self-defence,
a mechanism fear prevents
although at prudence's expense.
The coin cards of coincidence
that noise to others represents,
turn to advantage, making sense
of elements which signs dispense
which seed the sentiment events
may be controlled as 'whither' 'whence'
seem linked by dream intelligence
that lasts although we're hurried hence.
When cloud free shines the morning star
dawn's rose grows gold, presumes too far,
as if no shadow near or far
could compromise success, could jar,
could ever dowse life's vital fire,
as if, once launched, the poet's lyre
could chant forever and inspire,
nor bore nor jaw resentful ire.
Man's pride still heeds the siren call
till morn when free flight turns free fall.
that day one lesson learns, - that small
sweet seems to gleam when night threats all.
Perceptive insight should withal
ignore snobs, mob's pedestrian brawl,
innately find the wherewithal
to scribble, scrawl transcend, soothe squall.
Then narrow the circumference
of independence seems, intense
the pressure, the predicaments,
when arguments can't influence,
invalidate or overturn,
decisions others would confirm,
when former freedoms won't return
to light horizons dim and tern.
Those who rely on providence
too soon may find at their expense
that everlasting affluence
rhymes rarely with experience.
There is no 'Ave' no 'Marie',
no Eden for eternity.
Perjured who would guarantee
eternity's hours in houri spree.
There is no golden throne and grand
when falls life's last coarse grain of sand
[the spectre of reign's written hand
of course reins in things out of hand].
There's no white rabbit, magic hat,
no second innings where the bat
defies Time's ball. When that is that!
dreams of karmic streams fall flat.
When Fate's hand, tricked and trumped, turns black
dark Present weighs, no turning back
to glories past. When cares attack
fair opportunities all lack.
Reflect! Each given day completed
is stay of execution greeted
before fell final judgement meted
when hope for fair appeal's defeated.
Reflect! What future radiance shines
For anyone beyond life's lines?
Enjoy today! The Present signs
itself, as Cause Effect aligns.
Perception balance interjects
between life's toil and trouble wrecks,
and wishful thinking, thus respects
both fear and fancy, trust elects,
reality and dreams connects,
defensive phalanx e'er rejects,
creating vision true, inspects
both fact and fiction circumspect.
How the above our verse affects
to stay on course, spurn side-effects
distracting which the truth neglects
stems from internal balance, checks,
soul-song which laziness deflects
to order thought that naught infects.
Creative wells leave most perplex,
write which 'mots justes' with ease selects.
One could expound till time and tide
see mankind taken for a ride,
let this short essay thus abide
as introduction to provide
an insight into vision tied
to sentiments that coincide
with heart's intelligence allied
unto vocabulary wide.
(2 April 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tomorrow's Another Day
Tomorrow [b]rings tomorrow, s[tr]ings today
Across life's pillow-billow board, day, night,
Karmic sable, ivory insight.
Each must life's lyrics swing his/her own way.
Time's menace - trick oasis sent to play
Its cards to chaos compensate or right.
Master dream wave patterns, second sight.
Enjoy life’s game untamed, don’t, blind, obey,
Or rate Fate's twists disturbing serpent's sway.
Filter 'impossibility' - hope's light shines bright
Fight boredom and monototny as trite.
Nature teaches: overreach past spray.
Only open searching springs release,
Will Cause, Effect, combine, fine tune, find peace...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chequer Board
Tomorrow [b]rings tomorrow, s[tr]ings today
Across the chequer board of day and night
Karmic - some say graven black on white -
Each on his Way must thread, to piper pay.
Time is a trick oasis, sent to play
Its cards to chaos compensate or right.
Master dream wave patterns with insight.
Enjoy life’s game untamed, don’t, blind, obey,
Out of kilter twisting Fate, whose sway
Filters much which to vain future bright
Fain would advance. Fight struggles senseless quite.
Nature teaches: overreach past spray.
Only open searching springs release,
Will Cause, Effect, combine, fine tune, [b]ring peace...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Firewalls
Adapt to writing on the wall,
respond, react not, and recall
that Nature tries to overturn
the status quo, so learn to spurn
rigidity which all in all loses touch with base.
Some species rise to swiftly fall,
lose ground to others, Nature's call
plays games with all as cycles turn,
return to nothingness and burn
idols which before Time's squall held pride of place.
Yet Nature's churning free-for-all
recuts Life's cards, acts to forestall
stagnation as new species learn
to thrive from niche advantage, earn
some space to find the wherewithal to old replace.
Observe the Himalayan wall
trace trilobites in steep Nepal
call all to witness, deep discern,
the folly mind-sets rigid yearn
adjourning evolution, stall 'to save the race'.
All systems needing overhaul
at any time tend to install
firewall tools, or sempiterne
defensive mechanisms burn
their bridges, fall self-defeating victims to Time's chase.
Omar Khayyam assured 'The ball
no questions asks' both great and small,
iron clad, fruit fly, must return
to dust from dust, as atoms earn
a chance to dance again with grace.
(28 April 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis
Thesis
The sixth age shifts to 'slipper'd pantaloon,
'shrunk shank and childish trebles in pipe'line,
slight space to trace ambitions in decline,
and 'hungry generations' tread' is no cartoon
reflected echo for sage or buffoon.
The die is cast, as pride before the fall
sends shadow shivers over summer's prime,
on autumn's outcome none now bet a dime
as winter wins blank cheque and blanker wall.
The voice for choice Alzheimer claims, no hand
stalls 'moving finger', makes up for time lacked,
signs devil's pact ensuring second act, -
the writing on that wall precedes Death's pall, -
leaves ten to add to three score then the night
draws curtains, guarantees no further flight.
Antithesis
Three hundred years ago few forty passed.
Men, wars, and women childbirth, both disease,
or accident, went west through fate's decrees,
forgotten faces breathed forgotten last.
Few now face sixty palsied and aghast,
for life expectancy at eighty sees
most in the West hale, hearty 'if you please! '
with those in lands less favoured long outcast.
Yet who now flirt with sixty's certainties
could well outlive old Nestor, breast Time's seas
with knowledge that activities which fast
faded, failed, in future may contrast
with fears for years and tears for biers, may 'seize
the day' with confidence that life
may buy more time amid this vail of strife.
Synthesis
Sixty need not be point of no return,
maturity salutes a second spring,
welcomes unexpected joys within,
adds spice to life as onwards cycles turn.
Much hangs upon sustaining will to learn,
where voice for choice rings true, can span time's spin
enhancing both enjoyment, will to win,
While some soon snuff, still many candles burn
bright into night and true respect may earn.
There is no date of weight, no wait, no sin -
save disrespect for self - as trust may twin
with Time to eke new innings, spurn concern.
This sythesis still presupposes Man
must make his peace with Nature, excess ban!
(13 July 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Wheels Of Life
The wheels of life are turning so much faster
The restless hands of time pass me by
There are dreams Ill never live to see
But as long as you believe in me
Ill still feel them on the way
As I take life day by day
Oh the wheels of time are turning so much stronger
The blues of days gone by weigh me down
But maybe love will come to rescue me
And Ill never set you free
Like the sea runs to the shore
Ive come back yo you once more
The wheels of life
The wheels of life
The wheels of life
The wheels of life keep turning round and round
And if I should only have one tomorrow
Its a lifetime if I knew
I could spend that day with you
Ooh, the wheels of love will turn my world forever
I want you in my arms for all time
And maybe love will come to rescue me
And Ill never ever set you free
Like the sea runs to the shore
Ill love you forever more
The wheels of life
The wheels of life
The wheels of life
The wheels of life keep turning round and round
The wheels of life
The wheels of life keep turning so much faster
The wheels of life are turning so much stronger
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Path Of Mirrors
They walk so close to you, yet so far away
Their eyes are lost, their faces fixed like stone
They walk behind the mirrors and here they shall stay
You walk with other souls liveng, breathing, yet for them they are alone
You walk through the hall way down the path of glass
You watch as they walk on into eternity, into the dark
They walk there behind the glass,
People around you going through leaving their mark.
They walk past your reflection as if you never saw
They walk through time as if time weren’t there
They know you would never aproach them
They know you would never dare.
They walk through the glass and look straight ahead,
They know nothing lies ahead, yet they know they can not turn back,
So they walk into nothing instead,
Passing you so all you see is their back.
You pause infront of the glass looking looking past,
You know that you shall not join them you know it is not your fate
You think about the footsteps you take, wondering which shall be your last,
You walk on again only thinking of their fate
Their faces emotionless the souls so cold,
You think of how you own skin feels, so warm,
You watch as the move like action figures made from a mold,
All the same, all waiting out the storm
The storm of life, the storm of death,
You walk along side them as they walk past everyone,
They watch ahead never turning, never looking above,
They turn to noone.
You walk along beside them as they take no notice to lifes dance,
They only walk past, walk through the mirrors of fate,
Kepping one great stance,
You watch people finding their fate.
Their faces so still, alone in the world, without hope
You watch them walk on, you watch them pass
You see their unmoving faces, as they walk up the endless slope
They walk along, behind the glass.
You turn to watch as their souls move on,
You reach out your hand to touch the glass,
Only to feel the glass is gone,
You watch as your hand passes through the glass.
As you hand melts through one by one the spirits turn,
One takes your hand and pulls your arm through,
More spirits feel your presence and more turn,
They watch as you melt through.
You watch your world leave as you leave it,
You have found you fate and not you are here along with them,
They walk on as you pull your body through, leaving behind the sweater of life you knit,
You have come and joined them.
You look back at the mirror to look at your face,
And you see your eyes becoming lost,
As you enter their race,
The race that shall never end, the race through eternity, for now you are lost
You skin feels so cold you face feels so hard,
You walk with them, as one
As you emotions turn hard,
In true time you are done.
You walk with them, walk alone
They walk so close to you, yet so far away
As everything becomes an endless drone,
For now you are here to stay.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vocation, Evocation, Revocation... Correlations
To be or not to be? the question's put
in hamlet and in town, by gown or jeans,
by promise which seemed once so full of beans -
'til walking shadow gutters lamp turned soot.
Life's slings and arrows slay both those on foot
and those whose mounted pride soon falls, what paens
outlast fate's payday voiding ways and means,
both rich and poor soon trampled underfoot.
Set to heart's tune Time rhymes with infinite,
and yet what bud, once blown, may Lethe's night
turn into cheerful dawn? In pawn our souls
grasp straws too soon foreclosed as pauper, knight
descend from scope to end, ambition's blight.
no traveller returns to stoke life's coals...
Can purblind moth reeled onwards to bright wick,
in fretful riot weave round warning flame,
of its will still frenetic dance to pick
hair point dividing failure from fame.
Where 'heart to heart though far apart' would lick
the ice cream cone affection offers, tame
turns wild when 'absence fonder heart' draws, lame
familiarity breeds... fiddlestick! ,
counters good intents in heaven's name
to pave the road to hell's dark tocsin tick.
Winged inspiration sheds both fear and shame,
rings true through recognition trust not trick
must spin lens' wheels which stitch life's photo frame.
Attraction linking on a higher plane
removes the need for questions', answers', rei[g]n.
We strut upon Life’s page, whatever claim
each stakes is soon revoked as Time, untrue
to first impressions, modifies life’s game,
tints contact lenses we think we see through.
Observe vain beauty’s triumph on youth’s stage
feel force turn age, through rage lose sage control, -
One sees how Faust to Satan could engage
essentials of an ‘everlasting soul’.
Today, tomorrow, past and future, merge
within time's haze as days from daze advance,
now dart, now part, now urge, now purge, now surge,
in tango of contango spurred by 'Chance'.
If candle represents both Life and Time,
Man’s Fate is fall preceded by vain climb.
One wonders if attraction offers clues
to questions, answers, - existential lure, -
both waiting in gestation to refuse,
accept, delay, pay, play as sinecure.
Is fantasy what we affection name
as love which hand in glove with need sounds sweet,
attenuates life’s jungle’s ruthless game,
and tints the lover’s glasses lest we cheat
Death’s threats through disillusion premature.
Destiny's spun thread sped Time must cut
for reasons which to mortals seem obscure,
which fit in puzzle pattern's piecemeal rut
to knit tomorrows which mature too fast
as all at last acknowledge naught can last.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Between Two Fires
Wisdom reveals the reason why
This life brings so much pain
Yet in the rainbows in the sky
The answers all too plain
When God made man He gave him laws
As all the world now knows
But disobedience opened doors
No sinful man can close
Some fear no God nor judgement day
Some seek the truth on high
But fire to both will come one day
For all are bound to die
Fire will totally burn the earth
This world will cease to be
Yet Fire will lead to second birth
Who soon God’s face will see
Fire will seek each soul in turn
Regardless of their views
But which our flesh one day will burn
Is left for us to choose
From all the earth there’s no one free
However much we doubt
The fire will come for all to see
From which there’s no way out
No force can make God’s Fire retreat
No flesh can dowse the flame
But fire for those at Jesus’ feet
Will only burn their shame
The rest who die still with their crime
Will meet an awesome fate
Then like the flood in Noah’s time
The cry will be “Too late”
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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More To Life
Free to turn like the wind on a Summer day
Heart worn like a ring around the moon
And your eyes are ablaze
Reflections of time passing by
That remind you there's much more to life
Than standing still
Or running from place to place in the heat of the day
Just follow your heart and you'll see ....
There's more to life
There beyond the horizon there's another day
Far above the pain and fear you feel
The power and the peace
The greatest sensation of all
There is much more to life than you'll ever know
The rise and fall, there'll always be you and me
We're moving as one
So follow your heart and you'll see ....
There's more to life
We all have our dreams
We all have our visions
But time after time we're faced with decisions
Which road to follow?
How hard to fight?
Then you wake up and see
That there's much more to life
Free in acres of sky on a Summer day
Fire that burns with hope inside your heart
We are never apart
Reflections of time passing by
That remind you there's much more to life
So just follow your heart and you'll see
If you follow your heart you'll be free
'Cos there's more to life
More to life
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cusp Choice - 0548
Coincidence spins web when into place
life slips choice puzzle pieces in due time.
Flair/feeling twins awareness of fall, climb,
keys karmic scene between lines few dare face.
Dreams decode subtle signals, interface
past, present, future, patterns sees through grime,
aligning intersections, prose rerhyme.
Pace swift and slow tune into links to trace
instinctive correspondence, interlace
unique potential, untapped options prime,
deny the base which smothers in its slime,
Cause, effect, await cusp's state of grace.
"Chance" intercepts flow's waves, 'free choice' would bring
order into chaos, tune fate's [s]wing.
(15 January 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Time's Tide
Those cause/effect relations seek to investigate
ask why life’s lamentations can’t flow past pearly gate,
why can’t hope’s expectations some sects anticipate
show we’re wheeled incarnations, frustrations, fears, negate
Why worry what tomorrow may offer if at all,
share laughter, spurning sorrow, ignoring wailing wall,
each wakes one day, hopes hollow, must piper pay as shawl
in winding sheet few follow, no trumps for final call.
Time's tide has been extended beyond the sands of hope,
free ride from heyday ended, frayed tether, broken rope,
recount lost time expended, events' ghost mirage grope,
as most proud man intended black hole's Time's telescope.
Bright spark - life's candle gutters - so swiftly movements cease,
one cry before heart flutters, before 'Here rests in peace! '
one sigh then parting’s shutters are drawn with no surcease,
one dies while crowd bread butters inheritance apiece.
In youth great expectations mask ignorance - a vice -
few meet anticipations, most, sour, scower at Fate’s dice.
life’s joke is on Creation’s head, ne’er repeated twice,
one innings: vindications leave after-thoughts to lice.
Behind lie verses threaded, skeins sense retains in vain,
life's loves too soon are bedded by Fate immune to pain.
life’s gloves too soon are shredded by thorny greed for gain,
‘Above’ is concept wedded to fear, none bat again.
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0922_robi3_0000 XXX_CDZ 2 January 2001 revised 22 December 2008 for previous version see below
Time's Tide
Some cause/effect relations
would understand and splice -
what wall of lamentations
may give a game played twice?
Why care Creation's date to play -
the aeons ebb and flow, -
Man wakes one day with price to pay,
and nowhere left to go.
Time's tide has been extended
beyond the sands of hope,
the time for games has ended,
what trumps remain, what scope?
In youth great expectations
masked ignorance - a vice -
of how anticipations
can sour at throw of dice.
A spark, - life's candle gutters -
so swiftly mouvements cease.
One cry before heart flutters,
before 'Here rests in peace! '
Luck's tithe has been expended,
no slack remains, the rope
draws tight 'spite rules once bended
to ease life's line, to cope.
And like these verses threaded
in skein sense would retain,
Life's loves too soon are bedded
by Fate immune to pain.
2 January 2001
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kakemono Kites of Spring
Kite hung in cerulean sky
invites comparison to scroll
as string unwinds see colours roll
ascend, descend, as butterfly
breasting current, soaring high,
then gliding, fabric on cross pole
stitched, kakemono parabole
whose history of times passed by
or vibrant dragon scarcely shy,
prints memory one may unroll
when seeking causal links whose string
plays out or reins in Chance's sting.
Kakemono kite portrays
chromatic hieroglyph within
rollers wooden, yang and yin
invite a glance. Attention stays.
Beyond horizon's curtain haze
kami set reeled wheels a-spin,
mislaid sensations may begin
recalling soul-song 'spite life's maze.
If Fate some unseen hand obeys
No straight line logic can man pin, -
Knit your own links, spurn worldly din.
Advance, each forward step portrays
rung strung on ladder, represents
inked history's evanescence.
Fresh fanned breeze feels kite's counterwheels
in energy reborn, whose light,
responds to current's second-sight,
paints sense intense on bobbing reel.
Breeze buffet dance, rides' glides conceal
karmic trajectory for flight.
An aura some might call insight,
reflecting semi-conscious zeal
through these three sonnets shows appeal
needing no fancy phrases bright.
Kite flies to offer wings which might
refer to life's conditions real,
ressuscitates awareness, knows
seeds sown soon grow where'er wind blows.
for previous version entitled Magic Circle see below
Kakemono inked portrays
A magic circle where, within
Rollers wooden, yang and yin
Invite a glance. Attention stays.
Now chance has fuelled an inner blaze!
Kami set the wheels a-spin
As long lost feelings can begin
Recalling soul-song through Life's haze.
If Fate some unseen hand obeys
No straight line logic can man pin, -
Knit your own links, spurn worldly din.
Advance! Each step through life's mad maze
Rung on the ladder represents,
INside walls fall, - who needs defence?
Keep faith with Life and you will feel
An energy reborn, whose light,
Responding to some second-sight
Intense may sense bring to Fate's wheel.
Now motivations don't conceal!
Karmic call falls for free flight,
An aura some men call insight,
Reflecting inner, conscious zeal.
In this short sonnet my appeal
Needs no fancy phrases bright.
Kite flies to offer wings which might
Answer expectations real.
Recall all intuitions, know
INdeed that seeds sown soon shall grow!
(5 December 1996 revised 1 March 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Free At Last
Now I am trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give you insight might just change your life
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free from fooling round wasting time,
Floating in this abyss of your dreadful love
Free is a feeling so high in the sky
Higher higher higher
Free from the quarrels unsatisfaction
Free from the false dream that you planted
In me with your submissive love
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Now I am open like the sky
For the sun to shine and colors true
To find me blue
Oh what a joy to be free
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
Im free of cheating your poor heart at my own damn expense
The cost was heavy and it rent as a thunder cloud
A hurricane sure racked in my heart
Now the rain is gone and I am gone
Yes, I am moving on
Im free at last, Im free at last, Im free at last,
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don’t Worry (Matthew 6: 24-34)
Don’t worry about your life
About what will you eat and drink
About your body
About what will you wear
Isn’t it obvious that life is more important than food?
And body is more important than cloth?
Why worry when it doesn’t add an inch in your life span
If you have a time to worry
Use it to relieve one by one of your worry
Remember what is important for you
So you won’t waste your time and lose it
Trust your worry to God
If He dresses up the grass in the field
Fate to be there today and burnt tomorrow
He will also look after you
Even you are failed yesterday and down in sorrow
Don’t worry and say
What will we drink?
What will we eat?
What will we wear?
Don’t worry about tomorrow
It will be a countless end
Because tomorrow has its own worry
A day’s worry is enough for a day
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chorus of the Dead
And all returns to Thee, alone eternal,
And all Thee returning.
Oh Death, in Thy vast shadow,
Simple and bare we languish,
Not happy, but from the anguish
Of life at last set free. The night profoundly
Falls on the shaken spirit,
And dark in dark confuses;
The withered soul sourage and hope refuses;
Spent and uncaring,
Free now from sorrow and from fear for ever,
We lie here undespairing
Through void eternity.
We lived... And as a phantom from a dream of terror
Wanders into the day,
And draws across the speechless souls of children
A memory and a fear,
We, as we linger here,
Are haunted still by life: but fears of children
Haunt us not now. What were we?
What was that bitter point in time
That bore the name of life?
Mysterious, stupendous,
Lost in our thought that hidden country lies:
As in our day of life there lay
The secret land of death. And as from dying
Our living souls drew back, so now they draw
Back from the flame of life,
Simple and bare to languish,
Not happy, but not in anguish;
For happiness we know
Fate upon life or death will not bestow.
poem by Count Giacomo Leopardi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Wheel of Life
The Wheel of Life has Time placed in its hub,
Rotating from joyful state to sorrow;
Learns man to live with hope for the morrow,
Happy today that he can get his grub.
The Wheel of Fate turns at its own queer speed,
Yet, man can alter it using his skill;
Joys and sorrows sequentially fill;
Life on earth seems worthless to some indeed.
But any wheel will turn again, again;
And every state of life will have its end;
This life on earth can be a boon or bane,
Which on the person only will depend.
You turn the Wheel of Life at your own Will,
And much better with Almighty’s help, still.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Learn Ramdas 3
The confusions haunt minds of people,
Whether experience endorses truth,
Or Truth endorses purity of one's mind,
Bringing one to that plane,
Where one more face of truth shines?
More and more face of truth get uncovered,
As one's soul gets tuned to soul of the universe,
Contentment comes as fragrance,
Special veil of maya when falls off,
When heart sheds narrow emotions!
Learned one values what one has
than what one must earn,
Digests knowledge earned rather than,
Earn knowledge he can't digest,
Like to preserve what one has than,
What strive for what others have!
Seeing pain behind all possessions,
wise one renounce desires from heart!
Knowing for sure 'one bird in hand is far better than two in the bush '
'what is present with one in his present,
May be snatched by future and slips into past'
One who soars to higher plane,
Wonders at infinite beauty of universe,
High flight is possible,
Free of unnecessary weight of emotions,
when load is less!
One when feels like caged bird,
Songs craving for freedom flows,
And freedom is independence,
One independent of even thoughts and emotions feels ever free,
lives in present and learns souls independence,
Feel free where he is,
Happy with what he has,
Jumping the fence of narrow trifles,
Escaping himself from all bindings,
Feels free to think and work for all,
Who are seen as himself in different forms,
Undiffereneciated by time and space,
Look at the worlds as steps of evolution,
Same truth showing its different faces!
Learn Ramdas,
Lesser the weight one carry,
Higher he can fly,
With less strain and conserving energy, storing into his reserve!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tomorrow Is My Turn
Though some may reach for the stars
Others will end behind bars
What the future has in store no one ever knows before
Yet we would all like the right to find the key to success
That elusive ray of light that will lead to happiness
Tomorrow is my turn
No more doubts no more fears
Tomorrow is my turn
When my luck is returning
All these years I?e been learning to save fingers from burning
Tomorrow is my turn
No more doubts no more fears
Tomorrow is my turn to receive without giving
Make life worth living
Now it? my life I? living
My only concern for tomorrow is my turn
Now the summer is gone, there? another to come
You can? stop years from drifting by even if you want to try
Though time may help you forget all that has happened before
But honey it? too late to regret what is gone will be no more
Tomorrow is my turn
When my luck is returning
All these years I?e been learning to save fingers from burning
Tomorrow is my turn
No more doubts no more fears
Tomorrow is my turn to receive without giving
Make life worth living
Now it? my life I? living
My only concern for tomorrow is my turn
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enjoy
Enjoy these instants afforded you before they pass away.
If love is your password, happiness will mark your stay.
There is no better investment than time with family and friends.
There's no better feeling than the effect that your love sends.
Take time out of each day and enjoy what's important in your life.
Then dismiss time consuming, unimportant things that cause strife.
Enjoy today without worrying about what will happen tomorrow.
Present is past in a moment and time is a thing you can't borrow.
Before clock or events can ever so quickly alter your tenuous fate,
Enjoy, enjoy your wonderful, loving life; it's still not too late!
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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