Insufficient unto life's book are isolated leaves thereof
INSUFFICIENT UNTO LIFE'S BOOK ARE ISOLATED LEAVES THEREOF
Reading, like an act of faith, appears
to catalyze perceptions and fine tune
personal philosophy the years
discards or reinforces as time's rune
plays out, with or without consent, tears, cheers.
One dimensional dreams prove weak cocoon.
Stiff tomes, once home to leadership perceived,
soon bend their spines, page servant or buffoon
become; what pleased now numbs, dumb message grieved
as half-truth, superficial style, cartoon
conveying ersatz ego. Tree once leaved
submits to season's fall 'neath gibbous moon.
Through self - not in - seek answer, other mind
behind strong screen falls prey to fears, too soon
shows gaps may not be filled by mate fate signed.
Youth's pup who'd sup, hush puppied pantaloon,
on slops feeds as age, accident, all grind
as chaff - not grain - beneath millstone: poltroon.
Truth relative to place and time some preach -
pride ride wide of the mark, more bust than boon.
Each should aspire to outreach then to teach
through understatement not as trite baboon
whose show glow fades, flow slows, life lived as leach
limpet like societal lampoon.
14 February 2010
robi03_1950_robi03_0000 XXX_EJK
Insufficient unto life's book are isolated leaves thereof poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Homunculus
In between Charybdis, Scylla,
homunculus, rude roamer, strays
to fourscore years extending stays
through polyvalent polyfiller.
For poor: chores hand-to-mouth, time, killer,
shows no indulgence, easy prey
they fall from food chain fast, low pay,
high stress, address unknown, downhiller.
Complacency as self-fulfiller
seems insufficient, boredom weighs
on wealth patchworking life through craze,
tastes fragile for societal pillar:
contemptuous attempt half-hearted
one moment here, next tear departed.
(22 September 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Page and Pageant
Page, pageant, dreams veil daily quail trail tale.
Advancing age culls w[r]inkled p[r]awns, the Gods
Gain one by one life's pieces till dank sods
Enwrap what, carefree once, aped beauty hale.
Another well earned ‘bust’! Who strong were, [f[r]]ail
Now lie forgotten for Time's ruthless odds
D[r]own [fl]out all memory. Man's born, his nods
Prevail threescore before [str]etched powers fail
As one more stem beneath the thresher's flail,
Gathered in, is merged with claymate clods.
Each eager starts the day, home weary plods
As night light swallows, chaff before the gale.
NIRVANA's spell is scuttled in VAIN RAN
Thief Time’s [d]ice reef brief grief leaf life of Man.
(10 June 1992 revised 18 October 2006/Poem © Jonathan ROBIN Acrostic sonnet – Page and Pageant)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Non Oui Mais! sed We May!
NON OUI MAIS! SED WE MAY!
Another day tense present into past
laughs round the bend as future rhymes resolve
with salvo laughter salving bottle cast
upon Fate's foam flecked whirlwind search to solve
life's melody, key rune tune which will dance
swift circles round perceptions rigid, set,
sets scene, tomorrow timing with advance
which fears not self, untempted to forget.
From shoreline into sure line straight as die
'we may' the Gordian ribbons can release
fresh options from tired wrappings, can rely
upon dreams of reality at peace.
Mind solace finds as inner rainbow shines
on Chance which Joy and Circumstance aligns.
28 July 2008
robi03_1794_robi03_0000 SXX_KZX
Non Oui Mais sed We May poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Polyacrostic - A Final Act I Play... and Yet
A FINAL ACT I PLAY... AND YET
ALL FADES INTO NOTHINGNESS AT LAST,
FADES fast, flame flame attracts, itself devours.
INTO Time’s vacuum hours suction hour –
NOTHINGNESS: the frame for fame when Past
AT journey’s end the Future meets to cast
LAST dies with Fate – which late or early sours.
ASHES CHILLING TIME’S IMMORTAL POWERS:
CHILLING bigot, priest, iconoclast.
TIME’S melting pot’s a plumbless well, repast
IMMORTAL, tasteless still, which overpowers
POWERS of perception, leaves life’s flowers
LOST and blighted ‘neath the blast, soon passed.
AND yet Youth’s fountain springs, denies ‘too late’.
YET Hope fears’ dupes would prove, Love knows no date!
polyacrostic sonnet 21 November 1991
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© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Rule of Free Rhyme
Rhyme echoes time as creativity
Unreels threads which sense and rich feelings skein,
Lends to life’s scheme light beam which bends prose plain,
Extracts its pith with sensitivity,
Outreaching limits, spurning gravity, -
Finding behind mind’s veil tone, scale, refrain.
Fools find form forced, restricting fancy’s reign,
Repressed, or lacking sense acuity.
Emotions may be stressed with clarity
Expressive through rhyme time and time again,
Revealing style while from the chaff the grain
Has space to trace with receptivity
Youth’s aspirations, age’s fears, and more, -
MEanings multivalent, truth may store.
14 February 2005
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Cento Emulations
The moving finger writes, and, having writ,
the Book of Life is signed and sealed to fit.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
are mirage lures, poor men in shadows cower.
I am here now, and gone tomorrow,
this vale of tears leads on to sorrow
though Green grow the rushes, Ho
from dark we spring, to darkness go
So gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
short lived are darling buds of May.
Of Faith, Obedience, Sacrifice
naught shall remain for in a trice
how tragedy and comedy embrace
the rise and fall of all the human race,
to his lamented loss, for time to come
the Fates bear witness, hear fear's dreaded drum.
To cease upon the midnight with no pain
means sods remain to never rise again,
for who would bear the whips and scorns of time
soon sinks, forgotten, corpses cannot rhyme!
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
repented soon for in Life's afternoon
If we might have a second chance
perhaps we'd forge ahead, advance -
I shall be telling this with a sigh -
perhaps another road I'd try.
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
my wraith may lament opportunities flown,
The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath
no more will pour balm upon my garden path.
(29 February 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Thou Garden Art
THOU GARDEN ART
Thou garden art without the gate
whose roses, lilies, shared with all
grow close together, early, late,
enchant the senses when I call.
An open book for thee I'll be
so we may share eternity.
Thou garden art, whose colours flow
as if by magic through true heart,
intense the thrill, spell's dizzy glow.
Slight matter seems the miles apart -
'togetherness' gives meaning true
to skies which shine forever blue.
Thou garden art, whose soft scent spread
sweet essence - 'Myrrh - I am'' transported! -
No artery in vain the head
solicits though though the way we've courted
unusual is to say the least,
whets appetite yet fills with feast.
Thou garden art whose artless fields
grow greener daily, stimulate,
so soft, so feminine, - who yields
to whom one wonders, contemplate
as tendrils touch behind the scenes,
old walls fall into smithereens.
One page leaves insufficient space
to trace the wonder two could feel
yet more seems treason, out of place
when in due season karmic wheel
will spin the way to win true peace,
discover tenderness, release.
11th January 2007
robi03_1565_robi03_0000 XXX_LNX
Poem © Jonathan Robin Thou Garden Art
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Disconnections
DISCONNECTIONS
The irony of human life
perceived through eyes - some brown, some blue -
one strives to see, one sees the strife,
while one plus one apart play two
misleading, leading on, miss, man
until, from out the blue both ban
'forever' from vocabulary
which once played parts of his_story.
Thus Time plays joker, deals sharp knife
to shave dream team with déjà-vu.
14 February 2010
robi03_1956_robi03_0000 XXX_JUZ
Disconnections poem (c) Jonathan Robin
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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From Reaction to Response - 1126 2009 Version
Where PAIN through RAGE would play wild tune
then, lonely, piper pays,
don't stain page beneath gibbous moon
with tireless tears, blacks, greys,
again find framework for bright rune
preparing brighter days.
If heart turns dark when blue lagoon
seems hidden, who obeys
REACTION fractions very soon,
sub_traction which dismays.
RESPONSE is renaissance, balloon
above sharp past, harp plays.
Yet who with such a moral takes
that track retracts his own mistakes?
(30 March 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Autumn Falling Leaves
When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,
Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,
Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,
Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,
Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,
Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Dreams 0237
How briefly iridescent dreams abide.
Those passing visions waking sloughs aside,
for daylight's shadows swift dissolve, glimpse fades,
So sleep, and may soft dreams be multiplied
confirming hopes which long laid in gestation
in limbo hung, suspended animation
awaiting for due season to give birth
to deeds fulfilling needs' anticipation.
Yet what from conscious spirit seems concealed
drips from fate's pen when book of life is sealed,
to ink each page or leaf as it is turned
to good or ill in karmic cards' deal field.
Dawn wings along strong song frail birds convey
to underscore dark night of yesterday
prepares tomorrow's lustre free from fears
behind the scenes which on blind mind might prey.
Use well all opportunities don't hide
self from self, from others who have tried
to undermine desire for difference
as sitting on the fence shows soul has died.
Dreams surf cross-currents, reel unwinds from real
to hasten selfless spirits who would heal
harsh wounds society inflicts, for stars
scars may replace to grace life's trace, help feel.
(3 March 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Interactions
INTERACTIONS Sonnet CCL
Shared dreams shan't interact if to her mind
Address lost lustre, fealty found unsound.
Neverneverland mocks schemes love signed,
Grief supplanting joy's watch overwound.
The dream to gleam as team, live, die for you,
Over, could I feel? Each playful tune
Might atrophy, dream's theme perceived untrue
As bloom doom sentenced 'neath grim gibbous moon,
My work held back from tracked eternity
As mirage fate deflates, time won't ret[r]ain.
Urgent hope wars against great odds, seeks key
Duet no Callas could interpret. Pain,
Expelled from Eden, must ensue, to dust
Change shared goals, souls in harmony? Unjust!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Statements
STATEMENTS
Statements wide, too neatly cut and dried,
approach the truth as close as most the moon,
name chalk as cheese, cheese chalk, kite thoughts buffoon
in passing caught, hot air - [t]weak tongues untied.
15 April 2001 revised 14 September 2006
robi03_0932_robi03_0000 XXX_JXX
Statements Poem (c) Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Well Read Unread
WELL READ UNREAD
Writing on emotions' motions
need apply to other eyes -
often inciting trite commotions -
seldom showing pleased surprise.
Time's rivers feed eternal oceans,
although life under any guise
knows no immortal magic potions
so youth turns prime then age with sighs.
Perhaps tomorrow special lotions
will cancers cure of any size
offer instant locomotion
between dimensions wide as wise.
Notice not ice nor fire can compromise
poetic search beyond known skies.
15 February 2010
robi03_1952_robi03_0000 SXX_INZ
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Détente
Do nothing, just relax, compulsion free.
Everything seems simple as the mind
Throws tribulations, troubles, trials, behind,
Enjoys the moment spent, content 'to be'.
Need leads to greed beads, feeds society,
Thus outward show no inner flow knows. Signed
Elegy for well-being's underlined
Denying rights to jungle creeds that see
Exhaltation when life's daily grind
Treads on others, egocentricity
Excuse for 'counter_wait' humanity,
No space retained to gain détente, unwind.
To find oneself one leaves self on the shelf:
Endless peace, release, spurn man's urned wealth.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Dreams Unshared
Twenty years have passed, she still remains
Wed to the same employer, home and bed.
One lover only found the path that led
Down to her heart but brought unhappy chains.
Each year was watered with fresh pillow stains,
Care etched its acid lines as youth's hopes fled
Away and one by one her blossoms bled.
Declining health scope limited as strains
Expressed themselves in sundry aches and pains.
Solitude, silent, grieved. In children's stead,
Projects and dreams unshared, palm's hopes unread
Alas dust piled upon Time's counterpanes.
So two decades spun by, and what's to show?
Some fears, some tears, some years ‘tis time to go.
(24 February 1992)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Answer
(sambora, foster)
The lightning flashed as angels
Rode fiery chargers through the clouds
That answer scared me into tears
And all the grownups laughed out loud
Now the years roll on, tired voices have all gone
Now they ride their thunder through the heavens
Theres a world in every drop of rain
Embracing oceans sweep us home again
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie
They say for every living thing
Theres a guide up in the sky
That helps you pass from world to world
So you never really die
Then with scythe and cloak
Death comes waltzing to your side
As the visions pass you ask
If there was meaning to your life
As you strain to hear the answer, spirits sing, and devils fiddle
As he bends to whisper in your hear, he leaves you one more riddle
Oh, the answer lies beyond the pain
All the questions in our minds, we surely ask in vain
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, and you shall find another life
And now my life is like a storm
Growing stronger every day
Like the unrelenting wind
That comes to blow our lives away
So I live each day like I know its my last
If there is no future there must be no past
Now I know the answers never meant a thing
And with each instant that I breathe
I feel the joy that life can bring
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie
Come along with me, come along with me
Seek the truth, you shall not find another lie
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Downfall - 1053 - Current Version of Fallen is Star
Fallen is star which once brightly,
there clear in fair firmament shone,
no trace now remains as Time lightly
grieves sleeves, life's sheeved leaves ever gone.
Love's star which once seemed infinitely
to bloom beyond tomb meets doom, dumb,
as sentiments sent expeditely
to Lethe mock joyride's vain sum.
Dreams' themes lie unechoed, contritely
one wonders what might have become
if fate had dealt less reconditely
ere great expectations succumb.
Whosoever 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 numbed, still, distance run.
(1 February 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Fragile Sum
Do we remember twice two hundred years
Ago the flow through which our genes descend?
None trace the way their ancestors would wend,
Spend time and rhyme before their vale of tears.
Life’s strife is trifle, rifled hopes and fears,
A fragile sum, soon dumb, blind to its end.
But ever Man will energy expend
In self-destruction, waste, hastes till Time clears
Memory’s slate – too late regret appears.
Empty our shell when race turns final bend: -
Dust through and into dust. We apprehend
Uncertain future. Here, today, Time wears.
TEMPus fugit, “why and wherefore” we
Shan’t find, behind bland smile we've lost hope's key.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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