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

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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

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Wayfarer’s Welcome
From life's fair shore the wish for more
helps soar above life's angry sea
whose violent churns soul spurns - in store
a road unknown sets flesh, bone, free
to sound true core unseen before,
restoring confidence to be
to self true for fair future draw
cards dealt by heedless destiny.
Bright light may guide from deep inside
wide vision may unravel
life's mystery, see clarified
‘why’, ‘wherefore’ as you travel.
Though gravel hide gold paving bide
awhile until Time’s gavel
knocks twice, till inner keys provide
life’s answers true though novel.
No fears, no tears, hope's scope endears
sight to eyes which insight
recovers, hears through inner ears,
new rune tunes joys incite.
Today’s dearth, blight, on Earth well might,
reversed, redraw frontiers,
and expedite change welcome, right
wrongs, blunt strongest spears.
Past storms at last are over, cast
behind, - mind, soul, washed clean,
while vistas vast unveiled may fast
set scene for Hippocrene.
Verse unsurpassed leaves all aghast
who cannot match serene
and touching cast all will outlast,
deserving only paean.
No desert here, nor mirage drear, -
beneath tomorrow's sky
twin moons appear, - Mars, Venus dear,
luck, love, personnify,
to travels steer away from fear
of way unknown, to try
fresh paths, to peer beyond ‘now’, ‘here’,
crass ignorance defy.
poem by Jonathan Robin

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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

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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

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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

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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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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

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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

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Free Through Eternity
Soft in the morning
Love without warning
Peace cause theres no disguising it
When its love you cant hide from it
Now I dont want to be the shadow
When you find your new life
I only want to hold you in the dead of night
You dont have to search for me
You dont have to set yourself free
You are free through eternity
Now I have learned to sing with a steady mind
Fill the void and pass the time
And face this ground and erase the blue
When I leave the scene it all comes down to you
You dont have to search for me
And you dont have to set yourself free
You are free through eternity
Now I know its gotta be hard to find
That blessed balance - that fine line
But turn around and bless me
Or let me go in peace
I can meet you halfway
And give you all you need
But you dont have to search for me
And you dont ever have to set yourself free
You are free
Through eternity
Eternity
Eternally
You are free eternally
You are free
song performed by by Indigo Girls

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ire On Cross Sect_I_On Spire Pyre
Black books some find
grant ease of mind
responsibility
remove behind
dark veil and blind
bewailing liberty.
Life should be led,
shared, free from lead
respectability,
What lies ahead?
Hell? lies, instead
seems crass conformity.
Lip service paid
by man or maid
to bias, bigotry,
replace game played,
joy unafraid,
with sects that narrow be.
Turn more to hope
for increased scope
throughout life's comedy,
beware time's rope
that hangs who grope
for creeds rarely agree
on godhead fair
with love to spare,
or core divinity.
Seek self - truth's there -
'ware cupboards bare,
wraith faiths' fatuity.
23 April 2010
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Mist Dismissed
Hope rune reads, deeds renew
true vision reaching through
mist myths, tunes time and place
outside imposed curfew,
restraints which block clear view,
discovers overview,
serenity and space.
Vast vista orange, blue
surpasses déjà vu,
deeds jaded joy erase.
Through intuition's clue
few challenge, none conspue,
line draw, find answers to
empower state of grace.
'Unto oneself stay true! '
flows naturally, on cue,
when 'Brave New World' we face.
Temptations one must rue,
defy, deny, subdue,
prepare just rendezvous
from Kent to Katmandu,
tomorrow's freedoms trace.
To fill hole darkness drew,
advance, direction new
seeds need to tap fresh base,
set doubts behind, review
trust in insight's flight. Who
would counter fate should do
what's needed to replace
uncertainties askew
crass ignorance which grew
through hesitance, disgrace.
Bid bluff, defeat, adieu
let principles, virtue,
encourage fresh debuts
eschewing actions base.
Dark phase ends, one, free, starts, hope turns to find
spark gaze sends sun, heart charts scope, learns true mind
© Jonathan Robin 2 August 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin

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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

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Piecemeal 1842 after Marion Mantel The Abode of Everlasting Peace
Mind's company no bail-out needs, foreclose
looms near yet fear and gloom must come to blows
with hope whose scope increases every day
that interplay improves what soul search shows
to sojourner whose 'Choose! ' life's trumpet blows.
till conscious core dissolves, for all one knows
is that there's 'lots to learn' before life's wick
which once o'er brimmed is trimmed by Time's gale blows.
It may be Peace per Peace should not be goal,
nor patchwork quilt unmatched to comfort soul,
serenity accompanies the Way
why seek to weigh of thought and mind blind role?
Surrender self to wealth of non events?
Abandon fear of budget free expense?
Impermanence an ultimate release?
One questions causal links where self defence
is deemed a changeling spinning Time and Place
as prison for lost mind that seeks its place
though absence, presence, circle, square are one
begun and ended leaving little trace.
Freedom may be found within life's play
today submerged by fate of yesterday
for future must survey an empty seat
and meet another straying from the Way.
Though many paths to Rome may lead, not one,
perhaps life's karmic cycle may be spun
by mind which 'fearful thief' finds definition
outside experience, game itself is fun.
Thus 'heaviness' is cerror, out of bounds,
as mind proceeds through mind by leaps and bounds,
rebounds from challenge, rising to embrace
new challenge though rise, fall are mirage hounds.
These seem to dream to seamstress, dream to seem
reality which sifts from milk its cream,
we butter bread with head as much as hands
while inklings chitter chatter, teem then team.
For absence of control need not mean void,
for voids are mean if meaning men avoid
the search from perch to parch, from lurch to arch
triumphant, animated eclipsoid.
There are no fancy laws for mind rich, pure,
which energy converts from sinecure
to weaving sheaving, leaving grieving yearn:
mortality, in time, provides self cure.
(18 January 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin

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What Lies Beneath?
From pulp to palpitation cycles spin.
Some trace a line or two, leaves from life's tree
imprint upon collective memory -
the music of the spheres, a melody
transcending time itself and its oubli,
provide emotions and tonality
which, although evanescent, all would win,
to find oasis of serenity, -
cool shade not shadow of humanity, -
amidst the desert of incessant din
of universal static all would flee.
The flotsam of time's bark one need not pin
down too precisely. Much dexterity
excludes from fields of vision feelings free
which life enrich with spice we sense, not see, -
like perfume on the winds of change to key
ambiance of death or dance, chance we
must find to take, create to breathe, as in
a trance we dream we age by Fate's decree....
or else we drown in ephemerity.
Page turns before most even may begin
to taste their birthright - inner harmony.
Page turns before most balance yang and yin,
they hungry hang in fear and equally
protest vain light and night's eternity.
Between expectancy, acceptancy,
receding hairline space defines 'to be'
against a background continuity
where change - to which when young they felt akin -
turns traitor, turns on former guarantee
to formalize a fress integrity
based upon another Benjamin
before whose might old generations flee.
Few understand what lies beneath life's skin,
can cause, effect, decode with probity,
can probe, decipher mo[ve]ment's mystery,
can step by step retrace through history
their story sense endowed. Most men agree
to hide behind their own effrontery
rather than face their ‘present’ destiny
whose cards tomorrow's possibility
can for today's success deal seamlessly.
Few understand to start is to begin
to undermine all false security.
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Between Dark Past and Future Flight
Between dark past and future flight
Effect and Cause we question quite,
rhyme time between midnight and noon
to read, mark, learn, digest this tune.
Soul travels far, ka’s second sight
scouts out from dune to blue lagoon -
with moral codes plays fey buffoon.
Between dark past and future flight
the butterfly finds wings for flight
although, in silk spin knit cocoon,
it knows not dawn from afternoon.
Mind mirage magic may excite
confusing notions – far and soon
merge premonition’s present boon.
Between dark past and future flight
trace space, expand and pace delight ~
from morn till midnight one should learn
to seed born insight, harvest earn,
bend to contentment very soon
ends, means, all harmonies attune
heart, soul, which whole from parts return.
Between dark past and future flight
now ‘stalac_might’ checks stalag tight
mankind evolved from the baboon
to trace his race pace picayune.
between the darkness and the light
most squander chances opportune
dreams rose themed spurned, they haste to tomb.
Vague contexts blurred, restrictions fight
unshadowed vision full, shy moon
casts spell whose pull’s forgot by noon.
Between dark past and future flight
The wheel spins on, ignores ‘wrong’, ‘right’
As light, dark, rainbow’s ark all churn
fear not fall near, nor rise call spurn.
Sandman plays game outside luck, blight,
for more than intellect's harpoon.
Hope blooms, may anguish, heartache, prune.
Between dark past and future flight
oft ‘Justice’ seems a notion quite
outside God’s scheme - ‘on joue le clown’
play insecurity immune
while mocking empty social rite
inventing, changing Scheme and gods
to bury fears inspired by sods.
Between dark past and future flight,
through silver starred aragonite,
December’s frost melts into June.
Some worries shrink while some balloon.
Concealed may be revealed despite
the veil few tear – invite, festoon
lass lonesome on her honeymoon.
Between dark past and future flight
Cupid, Apollo, Aphrodite,
injustice remedy, dragoon
Fate’s darts, spite filled, to build pontoon,
surprise to catalyse, excite,
scene set for future hid from sight
till pattern pieces knit in tune.
Between dark past and future flight
some role reversals reunite
checks, balances, inopportune
risks which too haughty silver spoon
takes, greedy, - tides turn, pride indict.
Who, rich, Today would play and croon,
Tomorrow buries very soon.
Between dark past and future flight
sleep paints saint, social parasite,
in wavelengths rainbow may lampoon
for wage-slave, sage, or loon tycoon.
Blind bodies curled, bind whirl-swirled quite,
from youth uncouth, ungainly goon,
“to lean and slippered pantaloon.”
Between dark past and future flight
enchanting maid, heroic knight,
play out day’s doubt, - though beer saloon
may spur the bleary eyed to swoon.
Einstein’s ignored for much which might
influence an inner tune
or new create, decoding rune.
Between dark past and future flight
is vision sent meant to incite
destiny's spermatazoon
egged on by p[h]antomime cartoon?
Is insight drawn through second-sight -
though chance seems blind behind sin’s call
true dance dreams find combined in all.
(c) Jonathan Robin - Rhyme scheme after R.W. Answell
written 23 March 2005 and 29 November 2006 revised and expanded 14 April 2008.
For initial version and Answell see below
___________
Between dark past and future flight
Between dark past and future flight
the butterfly finds wings for flight
although within the spun cocoon
it knows not dawn from afternoon.
From morn till midnight we can learn
to seed born insight, harvest earn.
Thus to contentment very soon
sweet thoughts will bend, send sweeter tune.
Between dark past and future flight
trace space, expand and pace delight ~
although Fate now plays the buffoon
mocks efforts with uncoded rune.
As light, dark, rainbow’s ark do churn
fear nothing near yet nothing spurn,
for more than meets March eye in June
may blossom ~ anguish, heartache, prune, ~
for fears grow dim, soon tears do dry,
and Sandman grim can only sigh
when confidence and trust balloon,
scout out from dune to blue lagoon.
23 March 2005
Between the Sunset and the Sea
Between the gate post and the gate
I lingered with my love till late;
And what cared I for time of night
Till wakened by the watch dog’s bite.
And thud of leathering boxtoed fate
Between the gatepost and the gate.
Between the seaside and the sea
I kissed my love and she kissed me;
But rapturous day was gruesome night,
And what is love but bloom and blight?
And what is kiss of mine to thee
Between the seaside and the sea?
Between the sunshine and the sun
I saw a face that hinted fun;
But what is fun, and what is face,
When driven at life’s killing pace?
I simply say that I have none
Between the sunshine and the sun.
Between the bumble and the bee
Full many a soul has had to flee;
And what is love, may I enquire,
When asked to build the kitchen fire?
Or who would not leap in the sea
Between the bumble and the bee?
Between the tea store and the tea
There is a wide immensity;
A dollar twenty five a pound,
And not a nickel to be found.
Then what has fate in store for thee
Between the tea store and the tea?
R.W. ANSWELL
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Tract on Attraction 2009 Version
Tract on Attraction: Action sans Reaction, Traction sans Retraction, Contract without Contraction
Which of Fate or Freewill omnipotent
presides over mice, men, their lice?
lets cat out of the bag for man, rodent,
as ‘coincidence' seals in a trice
the links in life's chain hindsight searches
for clues to life answers which slip
through the fingers of those on high perches
who mistake wraith and faith in Time's trip.
Causal links back from brink of disaster
may ignorance lead for fresh chance,
or well-meaning statistics may faster
end heartbeat that longs to advance.
Time and tide on life's ride look with laughter
soul weighed against feather askance,
what of trust, what of comfort, years after
bluster bubble burst, rust busts life's dance.
Is autonomy graved on one's headstone
when reckoning's levelled at last?
may subservience soften cast dice bone
when Book of Life's fate is forecast?
Should moral advice from friends, neigbours,
be sought though their cupboards may hide
scary skeletons fitful, their favours
depend on fears, tears, which abide?
Who'll stand tall, strip dark pall which of Lethe
is banner, both emblem and shroud?
Who will brave phrase and fable beneath the
grief stricken furrows Time's ploughed
to find behind lines of dull verses,
and puffs precommissioned for press,
life's sparkle discarding dark hearses
rehearsing love's carefree caress.
What of Spring, winging warmly to Summer,
Autumn heralding Winter's iced earth,
Hope must spurn dust dearth bye li[n]e Death's drummer
would bequeath, see[the] mirth's seasons rebirth?
Will doors open as destiny flashes
top trump card retained in life's game?
will we win, or receive forty lashes
administered transient fame?
Many fall by the way - beauty's lashes
in time close their lids, lose their name.
Many call all in vain, whose wrath rash is,
soon prostrate Fate halts hale and lame.
Why recall tortured tears on fear's faces,
in wide eyes, eyes tight shuttered in dread?
seek beyond Time's dark veil, hark rhyme's voices
turns trust to true welcome ahead.
Turn again to true origins timeless,
far from copyright stereotype,
from prose superficial and rhymeless,
from deception, the moment is ripe!
Turn to threads needing no explanation
spurning blame box so shamefully bland,
rediscover sweet seedbed sensation,
inner growth which must ever expand.
Respond, over-reach blind reaction
which limits horizons, instead,
key energy into true traction
to free voice for choice which, all said,
may find underlined elevation,
undefined undefinable, yet
as a visa free passport salvation
cedes no stamp, needs nor hedges, nor bet.
There are times when our rhymes run away with
the message sense sends, on a limb,
but heed tone-tune seed-songs we would play with
to muse on Fate's pantomime whim.
Through a watershed chapter Man's surfing
the cusp of a paradigm change,
will the challenge be met or shall serfing
be the lot of a lot who'd free range?
Be you dream, be you dreamer, redeemer,
explorer, discovering way
may two, tender, together t[r]end, team a
twinned portrait or landscape soft, fey.
Insight spurns tight classification
anticipations pre-defined,
transcends commonplace separation
living for, through, true shared open mind.
Who is string, who strum strung, who dumb stringer?
Intelligent is the design?
What means now the Ring? what dead-ringer
may surf on what surface benign
to rise and surprise Man the Maker,
no longer Miss Taker defined
who feeds on greed's ferment, the baker
of need for need, boredom resigned.
Carpe Diem or ‘follow the leader'
for threescore and ten, self deny?
contradict or obey Fate, fey feeder
of ambitions its sense should defy?
Take time out or with diligence follow
obligations that others impose
though their meanings at best echo hollow
when, mature, sensitivity flows?
Wheel turns, returns pot to skilled potter,
earns urns as Fate's karma plays out,
one more page in tale inking Time's blotter
one more stage as clock runs roundabout.
Wheel turns, driving destiny's plotter,
lays groundwork renewal throughout,
round grounds gambol beaver, coon, otter,
whose sons suns tomorrow daren't doubt.
It is not for this tale to continue,
quest request seems sufficient as here
through new search sterner stuff, tougher sinew,
rewards, helps Hope's fires to shine clear.
So we end what may well prove beginning
of some saga both pregnant, half-hid,
trusting to rainbow bridge for free-singing
enlightened, that naught need forbid.
(1 April 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Vivid Imagination
Vivid imagination should expand
Initiative with intuitions shared
Creating strong momentum unimpaired,
Kicking serf's shackles' strong wrongs most minds b[r]and.
Independent spirit seeks no grand
Embroidered mirage where, when fair truth's bared,
K eystone is found unstable, unprepared,
Valueless, - base built from desert sand,
Integrity, rejecting out of hand
Compromise, incompetence declared,
Kidding not! With facts intact compared,
Intelligence rejects cores coarse, mores bland.
Expediency's unhealthy cup of tea,
Key words are: sound, profound, autonomy!
Veracity and clarity combine
Intensely in a mind which hopes for scope,
Creative recognition not soft soap.
Knowledge wide inside retains design
Innate to contemplate true meanings, line
Existence with the will to grow, not mope,
Keeping ideals intact to underline
Vision deep, whose inner light should shine
Incandescent as the heliotrope.
Charming seems surface smile, yet one must cope,
Keel even though some seek to undermine
Innate principles reject weep whine,
Expect top quality not slippery slope,
Karmic energy to intertwine.
Enchanted by an understanding clear,
Awaiting an osmosis warm whose heart
Should share implicitly, ne'er need to start
To challenge for the sake of challenge here.
Creative thinking helps the mind appear
Open free from artificial art,
Arrogance and intolerance which chart
Shipwreck sure, lure siren insincere.
Touched by heart, tomorrow's travels steer,
Gaining trust, towards berth port where part
And whole are one, soul won with Cupid's dart,
Life, laughter, linked as frontiers disappear.
Energy creative shuns despair,
Choice, voice, combined, find mind binds joys hors pair.
Voice for choice in this decisive year
Important is as effervescent mind
Calls for conditions which can leave behind
Kennelled spirits, steer solutions clear,
Interactive, shared. Ambitions dear
Ever forwards, won't be undermined.
Kaleidoscopic colours are refined
Validity few do contest as here
Insightful analyzing inner sphere
Concisely reads, rings conscious bell, not blind,
Keenly while, with sense of humour lined,
Intact light leaps, reaps rainbow's far frontier.
Enchantment Time may challenge where two share,
Keep faith, discard fear's wraith which feeds despair.
Vain or self centred path most people walk
Ignoring true priorities, soul free
Can grasp life's scheme entire, celerity
Karate chop disperses double talk.
Information eyed by kestrel hawk
Effectively is channelled, energy
Kenspeckle boosts associations free,
Vistas vast, change at which will won't balk,
Intuitions armed with points to chalk.
Competence twinned with ability
Kenogenetic challenge seeks 'TO BE'.
Is life not blossoms though most stay sere stalk?
Empathy is expected when zen souls
Ken kinship, tendrils touch, evolve shared goals.
View these few verses here as zephyr breeze
Intent on waking with a warming smile,
Chance to advance sure, set in sonnet style,
Kindling thought waves with surprising ease
In understanding life's priorities
Effectively, with no judgemental trial.
Kidnap mind from distractions for a while,
Vault screens to focus spirit, thence to seize
Idyllic dream which opportunities
Could conjure up to comfort, reconcile,
Kindred souls made whole. Shared qualities
Inspire to higher planes which, by degrees,
Eden attain, horizons clear, worthwhile,
Kismet fete in fashion versatile.
Value judgements are not worth a dime
If driven by defiance, bigotry,
Case for self-reliance, charity
Knocks sects for skittles, welcomes any time
Ideas which swiftly flow, root, grow shoot, climb
Ever upwards as dexterity
Knows neither limits nor severity.
Veracity wins through to space sublime.
Insincerity is held a crime
Counter-productive while vulgarity
Knavish, slavish, seems barbarity
Immature the cure? read on one line
Enthusiastic creativity
Kneels never to blind, dumb comformity!
Virtues self-tribute just acceptance due,
Images spontaneous writ fast,
Clear mirror of potential unsurpassed
Knight offers here in treasured measured cue.
It may to some seem flattery, yet few
Enjoy such inner freedom, made to last.
Knit such strong links, fly truth's flag to the mast,
Venture forth with independent view,
Impressive talents should to self stay true,
Creative spark evolves, survives time's blast.
Knots need untying, never caught aghast
Incisive yet compassionate review
Ends here, these sonnets seek to sing
Knowledge of success in everything!
(3 April 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin

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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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Fallen is Star - 1053 - 2008 Version of Downfall
Fallen is star which once brightly,
once clear from sheer firmament shone,
no trace now remains as Time lightly
grieves over life's leaves ever gone.
Whoever would compromise slightly
with principles life's staff has spun
must offer impression unsightly
some pity, some spurn, and most shun.
Ideals threading vision so knightly
no gleam still retain - what begun
in trust unembellished rusts, rightly
forgotten, ignored or undone.
No point in requesting politely
what became of game, quest, aim, fête's fun;
in tatters Fate scatters forthrightly
all trace of race no-one has won.
Though today some may say hale and sprightly
‘tomorrow holds promise' - yet none
would relinquish life's tether held tightly
soon Time spills, boon lies still, distance run.
(22 October 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Kensho - What Stations?
‘Knowledge enormous makes a god of me’
Expressed John Keats two centuries ago.
Not what one knows, but how one seeks should show
Strength within, enlightenment to free
Harmony which channels energy
On wave bands which our spectrum need not know.
Knowledge is a stream, unconscious flow.
Each learns the virtues of simplicity,
Nuances slight turn insight out, can be
Sometimes a hindrance where we’d wish to grow
‘Heaven in a grain of sand’ to glow
Out of time, still, offering true key.
Rise up beyond all self-taught limitations,
Life’s train unwinds all thoughts - between...
what stations?
Rupert Kensho Robin Le Saux
Thus current woes or current's flows are seen
from vantage points depending more on chance
than finger fate, which blocks, unlocks, advance
as circumstance dictates, where choice sets scene
for voice to praise or raise the roof with curse -
Man stays Time's fool, whatever rites rehearse.
poem by Jonathan Robin

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