New Tear's Candle
NEW TEAR'S CANDLE
Now here, now fled, bright light's soon snuffed, clock ticks,
E xistence fragile echoes with life’s play
W here visibility’s trimmed to today.
T ime up, ambitions down, as candle wicks
E xpire upon some midnight cold Fate picks.
A month or more, before horizons grey
R educe tired final flickers cinder gay, -
S pendthrift embers. Moving finger pricks
O ut bubble options, cares nor fiddlesticks
N or tinker’s curses for chance thrown away,
N or seeks reprieve for an extended stay. –
E phemeral our sojourn’s augenblicks.
T he loaf of bread, the flask of wine, boon mate,
S oon wane, recycled wax, evaporate.
1 January 2006 revised 8 September 2007
robi03_1400_robi03_0000 ASX_DEZ
Previous title New Tear's Sonnets
New Tear's Candle poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Candles
Faith for reasons still unknown
Like bleak house fog seems everywhere
The truth has frozen into stone
And hope lies freezing in the midnight air
Though dark our days may seem
This is a different dream
Their freedom light dont shine at all
So I will light a candle for you
Keep it burning in the night
And pray that you are all right
I will light a candle for you
Little candle burning bright
When school yard heroes disappeared
The little girl, she stands alone
Oh I believe you if you say
A prayer can help to get her home
So I will light a candle for you
Keep it burning in the night
And pray that you are all right
I will light a candle for you
Little candle burning bright
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leave A Candle
Leave a candle burning bright
So that I may see tonight
The darkness pushing all around
Drowning out my every sound
Leave a candle on the sill
If no one does so then I will
I'll light the candle on my own
And I'll fight on all alone
Leave a candle let it sing
Else I can't stop my cutting
My blood will flow out, drip, and fall
As shadows move across the wall
Leave a candle to the end
It shall be my only friend
Let it burn untill my death
And blow it out with my last breath
Leave a candle in the dark
So it leaves it's glowing mark
And guides me to my final rest
Cause I failed the living test
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Keyless
High hopes are mocked by Time as, day by day,
efforts are hamstrung, - phantom puppet show
reflects our vain illusions’ ebb and flow.
Effects’ and causes’ ripple interplay
scoffs at control. Coincidence at play
enacts a dance whose patterns none may know.
Why seek for key? Self-righteous afterglow
can’t channel flow to stem the current grey?
Chance - Time’s harmony – Man won’t obey,
cares not a tinker’s curse for those who bow
would string, - self validating vertigo
soon bursts to leave brief, troubled, bubble bray
deflated, echo muted, song unheard.
Who’ll witness stand that strings were ever stirred?
19 September 2005 revised 30 October 2006
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Of The Flie At The Candle
hat ails this fly thus desperately to enter
A combat with the candle? Will she venture
To clash at light? Away, thou silly fly;
Thus doing thou wilt burn thy wings and die.
But 'tis a folly her advice to give,
She'll kill the candle, or she will not live.
Slap, says she, at it; then she makes retreat,
So wheels about, and doth her blows repeat.
Nor doth the candle let her quite escape,
But gives some little check unto the ape:
Throws up her heels it doth, so down she falls,
Where she lies sprawling, and for succour calls.
When she recovers, up she gets again,
And at the candle comes with might and main,
But now behold, the candle takes the fly,
And holds her, till she doth by burning die.
Comparison.
This candle is an emblem of that light
Our gospel gives in this our darksome night.
The fly a lively picture is of those
That hate and do this gospel light oppose.
At last the gospel doth become their snare,
Doth them with burning hands in pieces tear.
poem by John Bunyan
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Candles
candle
it is used to light up
your years
candle
it is used to blow out
your years
candle
it is used to turn shadows
into animals
candle
it is used to help us see
the real from the shadows
candle
love and passion drip
through the wedding night
candle
a lump of spent energy
after all is over
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Light A Candle
Some roads we take,
are long and dusty,
others are dark and gloomy.
It is then we need a little light
to show us the way.
Light a candle,
when the dark shadows descend,
let its light guide you
to a brighter day.
Light a candle
to see your way through,
when the world
starts closing it on you.
Lets its light be the beacon
to lead you away from distress.
Light a candle,
keep it burning bright,
and let it guide you day and night.
16 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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The Flickering Flame of Life
As dusk was creeping in, one winter’s evening,
I lit a candle to add to the peaceful ambiance.
Sitting, with my coffee on the table by my side
the flickering flame soon had me entranced.
I began to compare my life to a new candle,
remembering that I used to be proud and tall.
Like a candle I just got on with my business
working and playing without fuss at all.
With the flickering flame I also had parity,
when new it burned small but bright,
but as it grew it became more illuminating,
and at its peak it danced all night.
Throughout life I shed tears as did the candle,
also aged, as it flickered the hours away.
Sadly I know when its light flickers no more,
my breath will similarly cease at the end of my days.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Light Blub and the Candle
Candle: 'You think your so bright.'
Light Blub: 'I'm supposed to be that way.'
But at least I don't go out, everytime a breeze blows in.'
Candle: 'Hey I have been here longer than you.'
Light Blub: 'Edison invented me, who invented you? '
Candle: 'Don't really know for sure, but I have been around longer.'
Light Blub: 'You already said that.'
Candle: ' I get so mad, everytime someone says, they have an idea
they compare it to a light blub.'
Light Blub: 'Who else.'
Candle: ' When the power goes out, were the first things people reach
for.'
Light Blub: 'Yes, but as soon as the power comes back on, they put
you away.'
Edison: 'Listen here you two, you both serve a purpose and are
needed very much, don't you see.'
Light Blub: ' He's right, I'm sorry candle.'
Candle: 'Your forgiven, light blub, so am I.'
(4-11-07)
Old Flames Cant Hold A Candle To You
Downtown tonight, I saw an old friend, someone who
I use to take comfort from long before I met you
I caught a spark from his eyes of forgotten desire
With a word, or a touch, I could have rekindled that fire
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Sometimes at night, I think of old lovers Ive known
I remember how holding them helped me not feel so alone
Then I feel you beside me and even their memories are gone
Like stars in the night lost in the sweet light of dawn
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
Mmmm...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Candle And A Man.
Someone lights a candle
And I see the things around.
A candle must burn like this
Nay, every candle must burn like this.
I begin to tell every one.
A candle dies as it lives for us
And we appear to live while we travel towards the end.
A candle lives and lives while it appears to be dying..
A lot we have to learn.
I begin to learn none.
It`s a candle which lives and lives throws greater questions
And I begin to be introceptive
-A mental exercise on a confined mind.
When shall I begin to live like a candle?
When shall I give out a flame that lives?
The questions begin to boomerang on me
As I sit in the candle light and see everything.
I see everything?
I miss to see a candle too.
The ghost of a candle haunts me.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Cry a tear
Cry a tear for the women of abuse
Cry a tear for those who abuse
Cry a tear those in broken marraiges
Cry a tear for everyone who feels used
Cry a tear for the teens of prostitution
Cry a tear for the teens on drugs
Cry a tear for teens under pressure
Cry a tear for teens without love
Cry a tear for the child of slave labour
Cry a tear for the child of rape
Cry a tear for the people who did this to them
Cry a tear for all those who hate
Cry a tear for HIV/AIDS
Cry a tear for destroyed homes
Cry a tear for the wickedness of suicide
Cry a tear for everyone who feels alone
Cry a tear for people in jail
Cry a tear for those who sin
Cry a tear for people who have lost someone
Cry a tear for those who cheat to win
Cry a tear for alcoholics
Cry a tear for people on the streets
Cry a tear for youngsters involved in crime
Cry a tear for everyone you meet
Cry a tear for abandoned babies
Cry a tear for poverty
Cry a tear for all the racism
Cry a tear for you and me
poem by Natasha Potter
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Alone
The old man sits alone his mood not so bright
He lost his wife on a cold December night
She battled cancer with a long hard fight
He holds a candle and asks if I have a light
I sit beside him and try to make it right
Son he says, I`ve just about lost my sight
I have no future; I just lay in bed all night
And when the sun does rise, I just look away instead
I`ve worked hard all my life
I fell in love and married the sweetest wife
Now i feel as though i`ve been stabbed with a knife
He lights the candle, It was her birthday tonight
He pulls out a card and he begins to write
I love you sweetheart everythings alright
Son, can you walk with me tonight
Walk me to her grave site
So i can place this candle so she can have some light
In which she can see this card tonight
A tear falls from his cheek, son this is really hard
At that moment, we saw a shooting star
Son he said, now you can walk me to my car
poem by Joseph Whelan
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In Days to Come
IN DAYS TO COME
In days to come when, dumb, I’ll strum no more
rhymed witness to timed world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest unblessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections poet pours
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ scores
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Self is both root and cause of fatal flaws.
My memory, wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
may shadow search vain answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 revised 16 November 2006 and 25 March 2009
robi03_1257_robi03_0000 SXX_DIZ
for previous versions see below variant of Unjaded Sparkle 6 July 1991
In Days to Come
In days to come when, dumb, I’ll bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel one penny poor?
Most, wor[l]dy-wise, ignore one poor demise,
for life continues as before - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think themes on pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget joy’s first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006 revised 23 November 2008
- for previous versions see below
In Days to Come
In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time rhymed witness, world where butterflies
still dance rare marbled patterns through fair skies -
when I’ll have sunk to rest twice blessed before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
For most wor[l]d-wise, ignoring one demise,
Life bright or boring as before, - here lies
our irony, reflections one would pour
in [l]ink think on the pixel pages’ score
fade with ambitions, one can’t realize,
when hopes unmet forget their first surprise.
Within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
My memory - wax candle w[e]aned from flame,
while others, vain, search answers to Life’s game.
20 May 2005 and 16 November 2006
for previous version see below
In Days to Come
In days to come when I may bear no more
to Time fair witness, world where butterflies
aloft dance marbled patterns in the skies -
next May, when I’ll have sunk to rest before
enchantment fades – who’ll feel a cent more poor?
Life will appear to who these verses buys
as bright or boring as before, - here lies
the irony, reflections one would pour
in ink upon the pixel pages’ score.
Ambitions fade, and libido, too, sighs
when hopes unmet one cannot realize, -
within oneself is found the fatal flaw.
Life will for me be candle lost to flame,
for others, search for answers to its game.
20 May 2005
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hot Air - Parody Witter Bynner Spectra
Just deserted after make-up refuselled,
I, who would have snoozled, hereafter
lose laughter, appear a foozle cahoozled,
as daft as a woozle or even dafter.
The hamstrung string is bamboozled,
snaking like a hung verdict noose loose from the rafters, -
when will the West wind flow less confuselled
blowing our just desserts as afters?
© Jonathan Robin – Parody author unknown possibly Witter Bynner written 3 January 1992 revised 8 October 2006 previous title Winds
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Candle light...
Candle light, oh candle light,
Why do you shine so bright?
I can not touch, no I can not touch you,
But you always light up my life.
Candle light, my candle light,
I'm glad you are still in my sight,
Even a wind would come, or a rain fall down,
Please don't disappear from my sight!
I don't expect you to shine so bright often,
I don't expect you to light up my life,
I only want you to be you... and be happy with that,
Coz I know no one can match your light!
Burn That Candle
(winfield scott)
Keep that candle burnin bright, mama
Ill be kind of late tonight, mama
Theres a yellow moon above me, mama
Shinin on the one I love, mama
Burn that candle
Night and day
Burn that candle
Honey light our way
Keep that doorway open wide
Until we come slowly strollin side by side
While that candles shinin high, mama
Ill be with my sugar pie, mama
Well be comin home you know and mama
Lookin for that candle glowin, mama
After we have had the wedding, mama
To that candle well be headin, mama
So before were winin and dinin, mama
Keep that candle light a-shinin, mama
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Standing Out for the Outstanding
An hour, pretty flower, I’m agreed for,
a night, what delight beyond dreams!
a week would be bliss I would bleed for,
a month might be magic, it seems.
But a year, Dear, is more than I’d plead for,
though the hope for osmosis still gleams:
for longer, - as yet I’m not keyed for
although Love bright and bravely now beams.
to capture each rapture and encore,
if encore there be - how Time streams! -
and if I be THE one you would breed for
why not tarry a tide, b[r]ide as teams?
(Initial poem previous title A_Greed 5 June 1992 © Jonathan ROBIN
Parody revised 4 May 2005 as collaborative ring 43 contributions)
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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On Borrowed Time
O ne lonely life is offered knight or knave,
N o second chance is sent, though some would seek
B y bell, book, candle to sustain thread weak,
O r mask the blinding darkness of the grave.
R emember, ‘Carpe Diem! ’ Coward, brave,
R aise equal dust when ploughed, while pauper, sheik
O wn an equal plot when past plots speak
W ith Lethe’s tongue, and young men fresh paths pave.
E xistence fires derisive pyres, we’d wave
D eath’s dancing grin aside, but no technique
T hat’s known can conquer Time. Each day, each week,
I s sacrificed. Man stays the Future’s slave.
M inute more is minute minus [s]tress, -
E very moment leaves Man’s little, less...
© Jonathan Robin – acrostic sonnet written 28 September 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
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One Candle
A spark flickers
a bright flame glows.
Pushing shadows back
one candle burns.
Within its heart
such strength is born.
Brings the will to persevere
in the darkest hours.
From one burning candle
no matter near or far.
Like a living soul
warm energy flows.
To one who is lost
this tiny radiance
lights a dark path.
It shows the way.
Think of the good
could be done.
Had one the power
of a single burning candle.
06May03
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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