Jack Rubin
Rare was the spirit that has passed away,
Unfit the pen which inks its paper praise,
But few remain who knew him well. Time slays.
Insignificant our life, short Death's delay.
Now only his good works unite to say
Jack was both just and generous! His ways
Allied warmth, charm and acumen in phase,
Concern for others, loyalty. Yet may
Kindliness, philanthropy, dismay,
Rewards requiring, glitter, surface glaze.
Uncommon is the man whose many days
Bear witness with a beacon's constant ray.
In wit and sunny wisdom life he met,
Nor can one man more fair example set.
(28 February 1992)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
God’s Eternal Ways
The sun will rise and the sun will set, this my friend, is a sure bet.
For soon the day turns into night, and the sun will go out of sight.
Without any effort on man’s part, the light of day turns into dark.
But soon we see the morning skies, as again the sun begins to rise.
My friend, even in the sky at night, we can see above a lesser light.
Friend, so precise is God’s design that we use the moon to keep time.
For by watching each lunar phase, we can count off a month of days.
God’s ways are certain my friend, and on Him you can surely depend.
As you live through all your days, do you take note of His many ways?
For these are but two my friend, of His many ways, that have no end.
And all eternal are God’s ways, and God will receive Eternal Praise.
But as the sun does set and rise, man my friend, he lives and dies.
For God to receive man’s praise, man also, must have eternal days.
Though man received God’s Breath, sin brought upon man certain death.
However, through God’s Eternal ways, He lengthened man’s mortal days.
And through the death of Jesus Christ, man can inherit Eternal Life.
Soon we will need the moon no more, when we enter Eternity’s Door.
And there will be no more night and Christ The Lamb will be the Light.
Friend, time itself will be no more, as we live with Christ forevermore,
Living with Christ in Eternal Ways, while giving God Eternal Praise.
(Copyright ©11/2004)
Creative Perceptions
Artist appropriate palette prepares
as poet intuitive channels and shares -
perceptions highlighted in paint or in rhyme,
on screen, paper, canvas, [b]rushed, touched outside Time.
Each reaches out writing, foresighting, prepares
stalls [f]rigid for music of spirit sublime.
But few can interpret the talent they praise
in the style of an artist in true paraphrase.
(24 September 2005 robi03_1306)
Bridgework
Artists palette, paints, prepare,
poets channel insight rare.
One canvas fills, one paper inks,
imagination interlinks.
Each respective stream compares
perceptions, self-respecting, thinks
perspectives sensitively, shares
intuitive fruition, links
symphonic patterns, well aware
individuals everywhere
sense beauty way beyond time's brink -
horizons widen, never shrink.
Images accompany
free originality.
(7 May 2008 variant of As Artist, Poet robi03_1396_robi03_0986 16 February 2002 robi03_0986 and also variant of Creative Perceptions
24 September 2005 robi03_1306_robi03_0986)
As Artist, Poet
As artists palette, paints, prepare
so poets channel insight rare.
One canvas fills, one paper inks,
the foremost and the least of links.
Both tune respective streams, compare
perspective, sensitively share
where, true to self there neither sinks
as each through intuitions thinks
the way to harmony, aware
that perfect strangers anywhere
may beauty sense beyond time's brink -
horizons widen, never shrink.
Both pictures form, accompany
creative thrust with spirit free.
(16 February 2002 robi03_0986)
for previous version see below
As Artist, Poet
As artists palette, paints, prepare
so poets insight channel, air: -
one canvas fills, one paper inks,
the foremost and the least of links.
Both tune respective streams with rare
sensitive perspective, care.
When true to self then neither sinks
as each through intuitions thinks
the way to harmony, to share
with perfect strangers anywhere
how beauty may beyond the brink
horizons widen, never shrink.
Both pictures form, accompany
creative thrust with spirit free...
(16 February 2002)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Athletes.
Everything in life teaches something for us.
We have the choice to copy or not to copy.
The athletes train long hours every day,
They commit their life to the planned way.
They never give up, that is how they can become a pro,
If they did it from the heart they became perfecto.
Life is just like that, one cannot say 'I am OK',
One has to work on that hard to get the bouquet,
One has short or long time to progress,
Sometimes our subconscious works as a slow witness.
One has to affirm over and over the need,
When at last will surface the real deed,
However, when one finds the real truth,
Will never have any more problem with their youth.
They will live in perfect harmony,
Peace, goodness, politeness & wisdom will be their testimony.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Claridges
The same discrete blue paper and the old quill pen still play
upon the mind to summon summer’s memories as day
melts darkling sky from dusty pink to inky undertones, -
extrapolating time’s ebb tide, when flesh fades from the bones.
How short will be the stay this time, so few have means to pay
a monthly wage within the compass of a weekend, - drones
disguised as business men of size who bore in monotones,
beneath ambitions buried deep to mask their hearts’ dismay.
The tasteful paper blue recalls those images of scones
and endless teas on sunny lawns - now concrete covers - hay
last harvested so long ago that only archived loans
remember that prosperity’s elastic silicone
pressed out upon b[l]uff surface, soon may wear, and tear or fray.
The phantom of King Credit past, now overdrawn and grey,
still stays in suite identical – though fax and telephone
add a touch of innovation to that décor so well known.
Yet despite the surface changes both cuisine and service stay
tailored to the highest standards, all the rules of taste obey.
© Jonathan Robin – poem written 1 October 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God’s Faithfulness Through Me
Any faithfulness, which I display, in my service day to day,
Is not solely what I inspire, but, from a source much higher;
It comes from my Lord God, leading me with staff and rod,
And His Guidance, I must seek, for my flesh is oh so weak.
It’s my Lord working through me, in ways that I’d never see,
As God works out all His Ways, through me, in all my days;
Leaning upon my fleshly will, His ways, alone I cannot fulfill,
But, it’s God guiding me friend, in all my life, at every bend.
His faithfulness, I don’t deserve, as it is God, whom I serve,
Being saved from a life of sin, He leads by His Spirit within,
In many ways that I never knew, and all praise to Him is due,
As all God’s faithfulness to me, helps me to be, all I can be.
God cannot be unfaithful friend; His faithfulness has no end,
While He cannot deny Himself, He fills me with untold wealth,
God’s Divine Wealth in my heart, as His Spirit will not depart,
Abiding with me, every place, He fills me with amazing grace.
God’s Faithfulness gives to us, all who come to Christ Jesus,
That blessed and abundant life, while we live for Jesus Christ;
His Faithfulness has just begun, as we start to serve His Son,
As His Faithfulness to you and me, extends well into Eternity.
(Copyright ©06/2010)
Remembering Sunshine
Her hair was like sunlight,
framing a face that could only
have belonged to an Angel.
Perfectly formed brows hovered
over chocolate brown eyes that
sparkled with the excitement of
youth, and the promise of possibilities.
Her willowy form moved with a languid
grace that few achieve in a lifetime;
borne from the confidence that life was
endless, and she had much to do... much to be.
And while the outside 'package' that
she presented to the world was most appealing,
it could never begin to match the beauty
that lived inside of her.
Her heart was generous, and giving;
her humor and wit, a constant delight.
Her gift for putting words to paper
that could shake one to the very core
of their soul, was immense.
But her spirit...
oh, her beautiful spirit,
was what made her the joy
that she was; and that spirit
gave us another attribute
to love about her, before it
was all said, and done.
She was a true 'hero, ' in every
sense of that word. She fought
the most cruel battle of her life,
and did it with humor, and dignity,
and a concern for those around her;
it hurt her to think that those who
loved her were suffering, as they watched.
Her name was Sunshine; quite befitting
the young woman she became, and although
with us for such a short time, she is forever
in our minds, and the memory of
who she was, and what she gave,
will forever be etched upon our hearts.
In loving memory of Sunshine Joy Curtis
May 23,1980-Feb 6,2001
poem by Silent Soliloquy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Warmth Of The Will
the days passed
they all rushed
as though someone is
dying and we all want
to save him
we do not notice the
markings on the walls
the strips of paper on
the pavements
we all rushed
because life is waiting
when we reached there
the gloom is growing
and we begin to ask
why and where and when
the moment came when
breathing stops
like an edge of a ruler
where measure is cut
we paused and that was the
time when we all begin to
stop thinking
about the where the when and the
why
what was important has become
insignificant
like air or sunlight or dew
or grass for the goats
or river for the horse
o twig for the dragonfly
the reason has gone like mist
upon the hill
it has surrendered to the
warmth of the will.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breath of Death
Death is not death-
It is life without breath.
Life on earth is life that is blind-
Blinded by stress and the curse of time…
True life is life that remains untied,
Pure life is life that has honor and pride.
The cold breathe of death actually guilds-
It guilds to a place where darkness subsides…
Passed the shadow a secluded warmth is seen,
Benevolence and compassion becomes pristine.
Yes, this death is death indeed
A death of pain and an unheard plead.
However death is not death-
Only life without breath.
poem by Brad Lomeli
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Effort To Live For God
As one would run for exercise, there is a race in order to be wise,
Not wisdom unto worldly ways, but, Godly Wisdom to His praise.
Effort on our part, we must expend, for Godliness to be our end,
As we set forth into this race, through The Spirit, by God’s Grace.
When we do run this race for Him, we run for God, in order to win,
Running the race with all our heart; longing to win right at the start.
And in The Lord we must submit, if we’re to become spiritually fit,
This as we resist the devil and flee, to pursue The God of Eternity.
We must also put off the old man, to live new life, per God’s Plan,
Replacing our old habits of sin, with Godly behavior found in Him,
As we wrestle in the Ways of God, we’ll be lead by Staff and Rod,
While learning to live a Godly life, to be a witness for Jesus Christ.
As we fix our minds and eyes, upon Christ and the Heavenly prize,
Bring to Him every captive thought, Godly thinking will be wrought.
Running this race, you rest in God, while still upon this earthly sod,
Practicing all the things we heard, as we read and live God’s Word.
We depend on our Savior above, while God guides us in His Love,
Devoted to our Lord every day, as we walk along life’s narrow way,
And humble obedience is our call, to live for Christ, who is over all,
Worshiping daily, we truly praise, Christ, who helps us all our days.
(Copyright ©05/2009)
Spirit Of A Boy, Wisdom Of A Man
He was 16, tender and tough.
She was too, and he'd do anything to prove his love.
With so much riding on the choice at hand,
the spirit of a boy, or the wisdom of a man.
Hearts caught fire and love ran wild.
She cried the day she called to say she was having his child.
With so much riding on the choice at hand,
the spirit of a boy or the wisdom of a man.
There's a constant contradiction, what feels good and what feels right.
But, you live with decisions that you make in your life.
And what steers your direction is hard to understand,
the spirit of a boy, or the wisdom of a man
Now he drives a diesel out of Dallas,
hauling cars out to the coast.
It ain't the dream that he remembered, just a few short years ago.
But tonight at a truckstop, while drinking a cup,
the waitress grins and winks at him,
and says,
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go away
No one noticed sun rise
No one took note of moon's surprise
Eclipsed remain for short time
We carried on our routine in time
Why to concern for natural mystery
What have we to do with its history?
It may come daily and go
We need not concern and unnecessarily blow
Remain unconcerned for whatever reason?
But stay not aloof as very good person
You are here for specific stay
Do some good before you depart or go away
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Golden Phase...
Rhythmic,
calm and golden phase
of human life...
is student life,
with carefree days
and restive nights,
friendly moves
and harmless fights...
when eyes enjoy
much charming dreams,
when mind is free of all the pains,
all the losses, all the gains
when innocent heart
knows no laws;
but this fair phase so swiftly flies
and leaves the traces
on our minds
as the love of good, old days: -(
poem by Shahzia Batool
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Keg Of Rum
My name is old Jack Palmer,
I'm a man of olden days,
And so I wish to sing a song
To you of olden praise.
To tell of merry friends of old
When we were gay and young;
How we sat and sang together
Round the Old Keg of Rum.
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
How we sat and sang together
Round the Old Keg of Rum.
There was I and Jack the plough-boy,
Jem Moore and old Tom Hines,
And poor old Tom the fiddler,
Who now in glory shines;
And several more of our old chums,
Who shine in Kingdom Come,
We all associated round the
Old Keg of Rum.
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
We all associated round the
Old Keg of Rum.
And when harvest time was over,
And we'd get our harvest fee,
We'd meet, and quickly rise the keg,
And then we'd have a spree.
We'd sit and sing together
Till we got that blind and dumb
That we couldn't find the bunghole
Of the Old Keg of Rum.
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
That we couldn't find the bunghole
Of the Old Keg of Rum.
Its jovially together, boys
We'd laugh, we'd chat, we'd sing;
Sometimes we'd have a little row
Some argument would bring.
And oftimes in a scrimmage, boys,
I've corked it with my thumb,
To keep the life from leaking
From the Old Keg of Rum.
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
To keep the life from leaking
From the Old Keg of Rum.
But when our spree was ended, boys,
And waking from a snooze,
For to give another drain
The old keg would refuse.
We'd rap it with our knuck
If it sounded like a drum,
We'd know the life and spirit
Had left the Old Keg of Rum.
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
We'd know the life and spirit
Had left the Old Keg of Rum.
Those happy days have passed away,
I've seen their pleasures fade;
And many of our good old friends
Have with old times decayed.
But still, when on my travels, boys,
If I meet with an old chum,
We will sigh, in conversation,
Of the Grand Old Keg of Rum.
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
We will sigh, in conversation,
Of the Grand Old Keg of Rum.
So now, kind friends, I end my song,
I hope we'll meet again,
And, as I've tried to please you all,
I hope you won't complain.
You younger folks who learn my song,
Will, perhaps, in years to come,
Remember old Jack Palmer
And the Old Rum Of Rum.
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
Remember old Jack Palmer
And the Old Keg of Rum.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Is Too Short
life is too short
Music: rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Have you ever seen the morning?
When the sun comes up the shore
And the silence teach the beauty for the sound
Have you ever set there waiting?
For the time to stand still
For all the worlds and stars
From turning around
And you run
'cause life is too short
And you run
'cause life is too short
Have you ever seen the glory?
When the moon is on the rise
And the dreams are close
To the ones that we love
Have you ever set there waiting?
For heaven to give a sign
So we could find the place
Where angels come from
And you run (and you run)
'cause life is too short
And you run (and you run)
'cause life is too short
There's a time that turns
Turn back time
But i don't see i can
It only works
If you believe in the truth
But there's a time to live
And a time to cry
But if you're by my side
I will try to catch a star
I'll try to catch a star
Just for you
And i run
'cause life is too short
And i run (and i run)
'cause life is too short
And i run and i run and i run and i run and i run
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All restless days
All restless days to count on in mind
No more wait or anxiety to find
Still it was there for me to slow down
For me alone to bear and wait on
The was rising daily with bright sun shine
Burning my skin in mid day for a while
Where was the shed I was searching for?
I was pacing with steps to the door
I have loved him from long days
I had not made it known but strived in many ways
What a joy I was finding in his daily rise?
Giving me all hopes with full of, promises
It with difference and wide angle
I wanted it to be proved as triangle
With arrival of his sign in my belly
To witness greenery in natural valley
I never desired for hot or warmth closeness
I did not venture for it or tied to trace
I knew it was well desired and expected phase
Still it was not to be had at ease
I wanted it to be a welcome acceptance
Long wait with meaningful substance
To be merged with soul at early stage or at once
I dared not to give it name of romance
I am not at all at cross road
Neither is it unbearable load
Nor an uninvited odd
It is after all blessings from the God
Will it rain in coming days?
Will it bring shower all the ways?
Will it end crunch much to the relief?
I will long for it with strong belief
It may prove in turning
All happiness and joy returning
Happy days again and end of long wait
All attributed to luck and fate
Was I right in hiding the sun?
Had it not made me to wait and run?
Well shadow may desert the body
I had still waited for somebody
I knew fully well that it will quench my thrust
As I had thrown whole wait and had complete trust
These are all needed in such trivial matter and is must
There were many other factors too to offer boost
I was well prepared for rejection
But tried hard without any inaction
I waited passionately even for good bye
But left no stone unturned with full try
The days are nearing to end day dreaming
Sun is getting hot and directly beaming
I shall have warmth and can plan its bath
There lays ahead a beautiful and lovely path
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down All The Days
Down all the days
Though the past is just a blink away,
The future waits for me and you,
Down all the days to 1992
Here is hope for all the people
And generations yet to come,
An the future's bright tomorrow,
Illuminated by the morning sun.
Here's for all the working people
And me the ordinary man
For assembly workers in the factory
For farmers toiling on the land
Down all the days
All nations will unite as one
A new horizon clear to view
Down all the days to 1992
So lonely on this island ever since she set me free.
Breaking out of my isolation
Reaching out with hands across the sea
Down all the days, down all the days
Hello my celt and gaelic ladies.
Bonsoir my green colleen from ireland
Wilkommen deutch and dutch and dansk
Gutten tag amour prego ola combien
I'm losing all my bitterness
It's time to find some happiness
Around the earth, the sky, the sea
Down all the days
Bon soir, my little senorita, c'est magnifique
Au revoir, my little fraulfin baby, it's so tragique
Achtung parlez vous englese, bon appetit
Jawohl, mambo italiano, ca va, o.k. i'm on my way
Down all the days.
Can we heal the wounds of many wars?
And the battle scars that went before
Down all the days to 1992
There's gonna be a celebration in 1992
Somehow we lost communication
But i'll find you girl and come back home to you
Down all the days
There's gonna be a celebration in 1992
Somehow we lost communication
I'll find you girl and come back home to you
Down all the days.
Around the earth, the sky, the sea, down all the days
Around the earth, the sky, the sea, down all the days
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down All The Days (To 1992)
Down all the days
Though the past is just a blink away,
The future waits for me and you,
Down all the days to 1992
Here is hope for all the people
And generations yet to come,
An the futures bright tomorrow,
Illuminated by the morning sun.
Heres for all the working people
And me the ordinary man
For assembly workers in the factory
For farmers toiling on the land
Down all the days
All nations will unite as one
A new horizon clear to view
Down all the days to 1992
So lonely on this island ever since she set me free.
Breaking out of my isolation
Reaching out with hands across the sea
Down all the days, down all the days
Hello my celt and gaelic ladies.
Bonsoir my green colleen from ireland
Wilkommen deutch and dutch and dansk
Gutten tag amour prego ola combien
Im losing all my bitterness
Its time to find some happiness
Around the earth, the sky, the sea
Down all the days
Bon soir, my little senorita, cest magnifique
Au revoir, my little fraulfin baby, its so tragique
Achtung parlez vous englese, bon appetit
Jawohl, mambo italiano, ca va, o.k. Im on my way
Down all the days.
Can we heal the wounds of many wars?
And the battle scars that went before
Down all the days to 1992
Theres gonna be a celebration in 1992
Somehow we lost communication
But Ill find you girl and come back home to you
Down all the days
Theres gonna be a celebration in 1992
Somehow we lost communication
Ill find you girl and come back home to you
Down all the days.
Around the earth, the sky, the sea, down all the days
Around the earth, the sky, the sea, down all the days
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laid Up Once More
There is another bend in the road, again with another heavy load,
A heavy load of concern and care, another load in which to bear,
Yes, for another time in this life, I will have to go under the knife,
For The Lord has willed for me, yet, one more necessary surgery.
It’s not only me filled with cares, but, concerns my family shares,
It is especially in times like this, when we trust in The Lord Jesus,
As concerns around us are rife, He comforts my concerned wife.
Who is bearing yet another load, as we travel down another road.
I am not eager for the time ahead, laid up in another hospital bed,
And far away from my normal routine, while in that hospital scene,
Again, limited in all that I can do, while The Lord sees me through,
Back again, with my family instead, while far from a hospital bed.
But The Lord knew well before, I’ll have to enter the hospital door,
And why I needed surgery again, as He guides the hands of men,
While they wield that surgical knife, guided by The Creator of life,
So as they work with their hands, the Lord by me faithfully stands.
All this as God works in my days, for my good and God’s Praise,
As The Lord’s comfort and peace, trumps this now awful disease,
While each day I’m again assured, this battle belongs to my Lord,
As God brings me closer for sure, to His timely and ultimate cure.
The Life We Had
You have certain illnesses in the way of life,
The formations and tissues inside us are in the way of life.
My offspring are never ill because of my efforts,
Their living and dying carry a burden and abruptness, in the way of life.
My brain sees some in pain, yet health conquers all,
Children will unite and give me suffering, no calmness in the way of life.
The days are numbered, for when I die in my old age,
This child always will cry and lament, for I am generous, in the way of my life.
Weeks and months have led to the beginning of my life,
A death has overcome us, my wife has left us, and the way of my life.
The intelligent progeny react and talk more along the lines of peace,
Is this not a face of pain, a delivering of genius, in the way of my life.
My wife was an unspeakable power of the way we were,
The life around has mattered to our giantess, in this way of life.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waste Not This Time
One said don't waste your cancer, but, be ready with an answer,
This, during each step and phase, all throughout uncertain days,
As some would ask with a sigh, that very simple question, why?
Why has something dark as this, befallen one who loves Jesus?
Questions shall be of all kinds, believing and unbelieving minds,
Everything from before and now, covering all the whys and how;
Some answers may be ignored, if you refer to a Sovereign Lord,
Who, in my life has complete control, over issues, big and small.
This is the point we must stress, with every question we address,
With questions regarding my life, I must point all to Jesus Christ,
The Author of my life and time, unfolding my life, per His design,
Who, works all things for my good, this in my life, is understood.
Working out in this life, all things, peace in my life, Christ brings,
His peace when times are bleak, and His strength when I'm weak,
With God's Grace sufficient for, the unknown, behind every door,
As Christ leads me, with His Grace, through every trial that I face.
This is a time to acknowledge Him, He, who saves us from all sin,
As a witness to all who may not see, that we all shall face eternity,
And that, I face this knowing Christ, the Author of my Eternal Life,
A life, all must know Christ to see, glorified life with God eternally.
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