Old Sea Saws and Modern Instances
Time's sea through which surfed story stares,
draws close and then again withdraws,
who’d wave away all weighting cares,
investigates Effect and Cause.
Effect and causal interplay
prismatic panoramas rare
prepare in an insightful way
for those who constantly compare
the patterns that, converging, wear
time’s face awhile, forgetting flaws,
altert to tempo, pace, space, - where
most stick to facts while clutching straws.
The swirling lights from faraway
switch to tomorrow’s and before’s
entwining helix holiday
which time and place in_tact ignores.
Though toadstool ring and elven flair
protect the glade from orcish claws,
there’s more than meets the eye as stair
leads long a track surprises stores.
Wild wonderland awaits as day
to dream surrenders that explores
relationships which on our way
we make or break, take from time’s jaws.
Coincidence some call repair
rewinding skeins of silken gauze
though very few remain aware
of links, elastic chains, as laws
invisible act out life’s play
turn and return each part as Cause
in equipoise may castaway
restore to health, wealth as implores
the rich for mercy. Lady fair
find behind beast’s ugly roars
the mind that steers her true welfare
hooks kind preparing for her oars.
Should panther seem to pounce today,
seek neither flight nor sword, because
dismay sows its own seeds and grey
more grey attracts, - avoid rapports
with self-made thunderstorms, forbear,
for one must wake within, applause
win through true harmony - who'd wear
contentment’s crown renown ignores…
Time's sea seems trap which mortals snares
draws curtains' close though mirage shores
would wave away all waiting's cares,
dreams ebb fresh paradise restores.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Prisma
Rainbows shine pure through spray
of drops, prismatic view
of multi-coloured hue
emerges from the grey.
What seem impressions true
tomorrow melt away.
Dawn's daily spider play
displays silk nets anew,
through diamond stranded dew
lights scintillate, breeze sway –
all things sing echo, clue
interpreting the Way.
Dew's sparkling interplay
between earth, water too,
empowers life; curfew
of night lifts, gifts relay
world’s waking wonder woo,
air slakes thirst, scorns delay.
Nature must convey
respect to dew as due,
for where its overdue
photosynthesis may
not from primaeval stew
evolve - for mammals too
no haemoglobulu.
Life offers [th]us each day
diversity where you
can rediscover new
its beauty on your way
to Paradise, - display
of nuances, each true.
So as we travel through
time’s complex interplay
perhaps impressions stay,
perhaps disperse into
new background bright and blue,
perhaps... but who can say?
How can links one mind drew
then be restated? Clay
may be remodelled, hay
cut neatly so a few
twin stems splice true, but who
may reproduce mind ray
unique of each soul’s s[t]ay?
12 September 1996 revised 5 October 2009
robi03_0825_robi03_0000 XXX_NZX
for previous version see below
Prisma
As clouds contain a spray
of drops, prismatic view
of multi coloured hue
emerges from the grey.
What seem impressions true
tomorrow melt away.
As daily spiders play
their silken nets anew
through diamond stranded dew
light shines in every way –
so all is echo, clue
interpreting the Way.
Life offers [th]us each day
diversity where you
can rediscover new
its beauty on your way
to Paradise, - display
of nuances, each true.
So as we travel through
time’s complex interplay
perhaps impressions stay,
perhaps they melt into
a background bright and blue,
perhaps... but who can say?
How can links one mind drew
then be restated? Clay
can be remodelled, hay
cut neatly so a few
stems twins appear, but who
may reproduce mind ray
unique of each man’s s[t]ay?
12 September 1996
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Countdown
Countdown begun, one way, no leeway where
One can reverse time’s wave to save the day.
Useless to look for aid. Hopes fade, links fray.
No energy remains, there’s none to spare
To challenge fate, anticipate, prepare
Dynamic options, open interplay.
Only stray souvenirs of heyday far away
Which weigh - nostalgia validates despair.
No space to trace another future where,
Bets placed win race, no need to piper pay.
Errors, time squandered come to roost today.
Grey before, behind, mind unaware.
Uneasy lies the frown that bares barred head
No light, no flight, and no delight ahead...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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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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Find Me A Family
I take my life one day at a time
So many dreams that come and go in my mind
Is this a new beginning a time when fools are winning
Everybody needs something to believe
The world we see is changing so fast
No guarantees how long does a feeling last
One look can tell a story
My future's waiting for me
Let it be with you make it all come true
And find me a family
Somewhere to go where I can belong
That special place that I can call my home
You know I'm gonna find it someday
Please let me stay
Find me a family
I gotta know that somebody cares
I need a chance I got so much to give
If you can find me a family
Find me a family
I live and hope and whisper a prayer
when I come home that you will be waiting there
It's just a breath away and all you have to say
is stay with me tonight
You know it sounds so right
chorus
Find me a family x6
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Troubadour à Muse
Should you stay fey Troubadour’s muse,
walls would fall heeding need's call, I swear,
souls united, delighted, all share,
with only bemusement to lose.
On days dark, in the dumps, much the blues,
with a butterfly touch, laughter rare,
Cupid's bow, Zephyr's blow, would declare
Cinderella should don dancing shoes.
Enchantment spells well to enthuse
rejoicing that naught could impair,
jubilation, creation, forms stair
to heaven through rainbow as woos
heart to heart once apart, each takes cues
up, around, to rebound, well may dare
answer call of the wild, child repair
to prepare transformation's true hues.
Should you play kind Troubadour’s muse,
away with toils, trouble and care -
discovering answers to prayer
with wantonness neither refuse.
When you kiss bliss takes wing, life renews
welfare's tune springing wellspring, brings where
bright eyes dream through lagoon blue moon, there
stars sparkle, shine, intertwine views.
No blame could exist, no accuse
‘WE’ creation could catalyze, air
to stimulate stanzas, - nor scare,
nor fear, dear, no asking ‘what’s whose? ’
Thus your mirror, fair Troubadour’s muse,
Time lines leaves behind, neither ware
of the need to seed feelings, feed, share
beyond commonplace keyed to amuse.
If O.K. bright ray, Troubadour's muse,
each phrase might rhyme praise everywhere,
spirit brave, blithe, reve[a]led as each layer
protective peels, unseals joy's fuse.
As Troubadour's muse you should choose
priceless patterns and textures, compare
clear vision in tender affair
to humdrum existence crowd rues,
there fusion would never confuse,
inspiration enough, and to spare,
intuitive insight aware
of the chance to advance, shed taboos.
Interplay between Troubadour, muse,
flamboyancy splices with flair,
both would sow, both would grow, as a pair,
flow as current electric to use
space as base to trace joy - not abuse -
we should tenderness share, greet, prepare
ideal idyll past fast will repair...
would you play fair as Troubadour's muse?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Dream On
Dream on baby, dream on
They might never seem to come true,
But dream on, baby, dream on.
Cause you never know when one will find you.
Dream on baby, dream on.
Though the critics and sceptics cry,
Dream on you will, baby, dream on.
Cause one day you'll be waving them goodbye.
Dream on baby, dream on,
There's a reason that we have dreams.
Dream on baby, dream on.
You'll catch some dreams, though far away they seem.
Dream on, baby, dream on.
No, you probably won't get every one,
But isn't that what dreams are for?
Dreams, they propel us to leap out and have fun.
Dreams, where we run to who-knows-where,
Where we do things we can only imagine.
Dreams, where we find solace in times of despair:
Where ordinary men become legends.
Dreams breath life into our bodies,
Give us purpose in our life, carry us on,
Carry us on through the toughest time,
When all glimmer of hope is gone.
So shut your door, tuck yourself in,
Turn out the lights, and dream away.
Life's tough, now's time to escape awhile.
Time to dream about a happier day.
Dream on, baby, dream on.
Dreams come true,
So dream on.
One day, they'll find you.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Lying Here With You
Time to wave the day goodbye
But I dont wanna hear no lullaby
Sandman takes his cue
And when the night is through
Ill be lying here with you
Close your eyes turn out the light
Say a prayer to see us through the night
Hope your dreams come true
When dawn turns into blue
Ill be lying here with you
Too much of something
Tends to spoil you so they say
But I cant get enough of you
I tell you something
I never listen to what they say
I only know what I must do
All our cares will drift away
Leave them all until another day
I dont really mind
As long as I can find
That Im lying here with you
Too much of something
Tends to spoil you so they say
But I cant get enough of you
I tell you something
I never listen to what they say
I only know what I must do
All our cares will drift away
Leave them all until another day
I dont really mind
As long as I can find
That Im lying here with you
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Efforts Unrewarded - 0846 - Current Version
Time mocks priorities as, day by day,
efforts, unrewarded, dream vain show.
Existence: an incessant ebb and flow.
effects link subtle causal interplay
none may control. Coincidence at play
enacts a dance whose pattern steps few know.
Some keys, decoded, avoid stop and go,
channel energy to colour grey.
Harmony and Chance Time's tides obey,
music invent, according string to bow,
instinctively enjoying vertigo
unknown to most, who coast with bubble bray
turned to empty echo drowned unheard.
Late offers elegy for early bird.
(7 March 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Polka Patterns
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Lets go into the bathroom
I know were in a room where you would not expect much math
Usually youre in here for a shower or a bath
But if you gaze upon the floor, and if youre kinda smart
Youll see the repetition is like geometric art
Wow, haha
Look
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Hey!
A polkameister like myself never has to be bored
I just grab my ax and play some patterns on my keyboard
Nows the time for earplugs if you care about your health
So stand back, everybody, Im gonna express myself
Look at this, patterns
Ive got blisters on my fingers
Woo, hey, aw, get down
Yeah, help me, somebody, woo
Still there? okay
Next time you find yourself at an exciting polka party
You can make some patterns with your feet and with your body
If you dont know the steps yet, heres the gang with all the answers
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the weird al polka dancers
Here they are
Everywhere, we see them there
We stop and stare at patterns
We dont care, we must declare
Weve got a flair for patterns
On our hair, the clothes we wear
Our savoir faire is patterns
All we see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Wallpaper, skyscrapers, funny papers, patterns
Evergreens, nouvelle cuisine, human beings, patterns
Garden rakes, wedding cakes, rattlesnakes, patterns
Golden wheat, little feet, my heartbeat
I gotta stop
Patterns, patterns, patterns, patterns
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moonshine
Floating in the everglades
Faces lit in sun
A moon that lights a thousand ways across
Is company for one
Ooh wont you come back to me
Ooh wont you shine out for me
Falling down from grace
In houses made for one
Holding matches til they burn away
Ashes to the wind
Ooh wont you come back to me
Ooh wont you shine out for me
Only you, its only for you
Always true
But time is passing by
Only you
Always you
But every time we cry
We wave the sun goodbye
Moonshine
Desolate the renegades
Poisoned tongues persuade
Take the hand that carried you above
Oceans to the grave
Ooh wont you come back to me
Ooh wont you shine out for me
Only you, its only for you
Always true
But time is passing by
Only you
Always you
But every time we cry
We wave the sun goodbye
Moonshine
Tear yourself, you tear yourself.... (repeat)
Going over every minute every second in your mind
Turning over catching fragments of a life before you die
Going over every second, every minute left behind...
Its only for you
Always true
But time is passing by
Only you, always you
But every time we cry
We wave the sun goodbye
Moonshine
Only you, its only for you
Always true
But time is passing by
Only you
Always you
But every time we cry
We wave the sun goodbye
Moonshine
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Venus Man Trap
Waiting for opportunity to strike
I have been your biggest fan
What a tour
A little blow to cure your fright
Its what it takes to trap a man
Water me
I am not a desert plant
And there was life before you
When I close
Will I wear my blue eyes when I open this time?
When I close
Or should I wear my green eyes when I open that shine?
And shine in my room underneath the microscope
I remember how it felt
I thought you knew I was always full of hope
But you could only help yourself
When I close
Will I wear my blue eyes when I open this time?
When I close
Or should I wear my green eyes when I open that shine and shine
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Find - 0846 - Initial Version
High hopes are mocked by Time as, day by day,
Efforts, unrewarded, seem vain show.
Life is an incessant ebb and flow.
Effects' and causes' subtle interplay
None can control, - coincidence at play
Enacts a dance whose patterns few do know.
Some find a key, avoiding stop and go,
Channel energy to colour grey.
Harmony and Chance Time's tides obey,
Music invent, according string and bow,
Instinctively enjoy a vertigo
That is unknown by most, whose bubble bray
Turns to empty echo, sinks unheard.
Has she a heart whose strings can still be stirred?
(28 June 1997)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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NYC
I had seven faces thought i knew which one to wear
I'm sick of spending these lonely nights training myself not to care
the subway is a porno pavements they are a mess
i know you've supported me for a long time
somehow i'm not impressed
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
subway she is a porno and the pavements they are a mess
i know you've supported me for a long time
somehow i'm not impressed
It's up to me now turn on the bright lights
It's up to me now turn on the bright lights
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
New York Cares (got to be some more change in my life)
It's up to me now turn on the bright lights
(got to be some more change in my life)
oh, It's up to me now turn on the bright lights
(got to be some more change in my life)
song performed by by Interpol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theres No Time
Theres no time to wallow in my cheer
tis mine to make my life a better place for my song
Near my blues will be gone
Bracing my joy till june
Theres no time to bellow hardships done
The devil knows Ive cried but the tears turn to plans
Drafting thoughts work at hand
Leaving woes behind
Theres no time
Theres no time
People Im just a pupil
Learning the facts from a to z
And maybe come tomorrow
Ill be what I can be
Theres no time to follow friends and fools
tis wine that makes a man the bitter bliss of his day
Reminiscing foolish times when hes grey
Lord let me save my mind
Theres no time
Theres no time
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ugly Love
Dear cousin, I got your letter
It's more than I thought I deserve
She sounds perfect, all I dream of
And I dream about so much it is absurd
When I get there and she sees me
I'll be impressed if she does not run screaming
My kind of love is an ugly love
But it's real, and it lasts a long, long time
I had a thought while I was sleeping
I dreamed about a place for us to rest
Eternity under the old oak tree
But I go too far, I guess
Maybe I'll think about tomorrow
And maybe I can get her to stay that long
'Cause my kind of love is an ugly love
But it's real, and it lasts a long, long time
And if she finds me so repulsive
She wouldn't be the first to wretch
Well, I decided one day long ago
I was never going to be the greatest catch
And if she cares about the car I drive
She can get in hers the moment I arrive
'Cause my kind of love is an ugly love
But it's real, and it lasts a long, long time
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Patterns Of Time
carefully looking at this time
and that other time
how they correlate to connect each time
of the next time
to follow the same pattern of time
with no dime
but a crime
if a time
is wasted on no time
for you will never find a time
on the same time
that was underutilized by the time
you realize it were time
it will never be the same time
but a different time
at that point in time
on each pattern of time
from am to pm it is time
still morning to midnight is time
and any time
of the day is time
as from monday to sunday time
year start to midyear and year end is time
so, time
ticking as you may be aware of time
that everything is well connected to time
and must be done on time
for you will never find the same time
of that very point in time
-
do what you can, on time. for time is never a fact but a situation of the same condition on a different setting, but still its time. therefore, time is longer than rope and shorter than your scope though at times time is beyond our scope of reach and intelligence of the mind on time.
-
**extracted from 'patterns of time'**
from **patterns of life** november 2011 ebook
ntema's unique poetry (nup) .
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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When Feelings Fail to Flabbergast - 1968
Future today, tomorrow: past,
love's piper must be paid at last,
where two's no longer company
one's crowded out, one too many
fights pseudo superfluity
self-confidence at sea, aghast.
Too late is hell. Seek, rather, fast
to try new track, exile, outcast
unworthy partner, fake. Break free
from falsehood lacking harmony's
far better far than fragility
stretched out by thin elastoplast.
Life's boat cannot advance half-mast,
an appetite scorns cold repast,
‘alone' keeps credibility
preparing for fresh melody
by banishing futility
when feelings fail to flabbergast.
Causal love-links multicast
play games, dream's downfall seemed forecast
to herald heartbreak threnody
yet somehow primes rhyme's melody,
prime-time until eternity
mocks mortal bombast vain as vast.
(3 March 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Day In The Life Of - Me!
I wake up in the morning and pull back the curtains, wide,
And look out through the window to view the world outside,
To see if the sky is blue or grey, sunny or with rain,
And see if the postman's on his way with letters that contain,
News of family and friends, and more 'bills' by the way,
Attempting to motivate the mind, and start another day.
With all the jobs I have to do before we leave the house,
To get the breakfast going, for self and for my spouse,
To put clothes in the washing machine, make sandwiches for lunch,
And add some fruit and maybe also, some biscuits we can munch.
To load the car with coats and bags, and other odds and ends,
And quickly venture off to work and see what the day sends.
With people wanting this and that and taking orders for
Various kinds of merchandise which we might have in store,
Writing down their preferences for all their different needs,
Sorting out the dates and times, working at different speeds.
Busy as we move along, through the hours set for work,
Having no time to rest awhile, there is no time to shirk.
The telephone keeps ringing, the doorbell's buzzing too,
I'd really love a cup of tea, but what am I to do,
There's 'can I have', 'would you please' and 'could you just this once',
I'm really getting hungry, my stomach, how it grunts.
There's 'what's the time? ' and 'must get done' before we start to close,
And having stood the whole day long, there's the pain that's in my toes.
Out go the lights, down come the blinds, it's time to pack away,
All the paperwork and goods that we have used today,
Sweep the floor, dust the shelves, check orders already placed,
Tidy everything away, and clear the bags of waste.
Switch off the lights, set the alarm, close and lock the door,
Jump in the car, slip off the shoes, now the toes are really sore.
Here's home at last but there's no rest yet, the washing in the drum
Must be hung up, so here we go. My feet are going numb.
There's vacuuming, and ironing, the meal to prepare and cook,
Oh, how I would love to just sit down and quietly read a book.
At last it's time to climb the stairs, I'm ready for my bed,
Until a 'certain' alarm, shatters the sweet dreams in my head.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Vanity of All Worldly Things, The
As he said vanity, so vain say I,
Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky;
Where is the man can say, "Lo, I have found
On brittle earth a consolation sound"?
What isn't in honor to be set on high?
No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die,
And whilst they live, how oft doth turn their fate;
He's now a captive that was king of late.
What isn't in wealth great treasures to obtain?
No, that's but labor, anxious care, and pain.
He heaps up riches, and he heaps up sorrow,
It's his today, but who's his heir tomorrow?
What then? Content in pleasures canst thou find?
More vain than all, that's but to grasp the wind.
The sensual senses for a time they pleasure,
Meanwhile the conscience rage, who shall appease?
What isn't in beauty? No that's but a snare,
They're foul enough today, that once were fair.
What is't in flow'ring youth, or manly age?
The first is prone to vice, the last to rage.
Where is it then, in wisdom, learning, arts?
Sure if on earth, it must be in those parts;
Yet these the wisest man of men did find
But vanity, vexation of the mind.
And he that know the most doth still bemoan
He knows not all that here is to be known.
What is it then? To do as stoics tell,
Nor laugh, nor weep, let things go ill or well?
Such stoics are but stocks, such teaching vain,
While man is man, he shall have ease or pain.
If not in honor, beauty, age, nor treasure,
Nor yet in learning, wisdom, youth, nor pleasure,
Where shall I climb, sound, seek, search, or find
That summum bonum which may stay my mind?
There is a path no vulture's eye hath seen,
Where lion fierce, nor lion's whelps have been,
Which leads unto that living crystal fount,
Who drinks thereof, the world doth naught account.
The depth and sea have said " 'tis not in me,"
With pearl and gold it shall not valued be.
For sapphire, onyx, topaz who would change;
It's hid from eyes of men, they count it strange.
Death and destruction the fame hath heard,
But where and what it is, from heaven's declared;
It brings to honor which shall ne'er decay,
It stores with wealth which time can't wear away.
It yieldeth pleasures far beyond conceit,
And truly beautifies without deceit.
Nor strength, nor wisdom, nor fresh youth shall fade,
Nor death shall see, but are immortal made.
This pearl of price, this tree of life, this spring,
Who is possessed of shall reign a king.
Nor change of state nor cares shall ever see,
But wear his crown unto eternity.
This satiates the soul, this stays the mind,
And all the rest, but vanity we find.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
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The Vanity of All Worldly Things
As he said vanity, so vain say I,
Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky;
Where is the man can say, "Lo, I have found
On brittle earth a consolation sound"?
What isn't in honor to be set on high?
No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die,
And whilst they live, how oft doth turn their fate;
He's now a captive that was king of late.
What isn't in wealth great treasures to obtain?
No, that's but labor, anxious care, and pain.
He heaps up riches, and he heaps up sorrow,
It's his today, but who's his heir tomorrow?
What then? Content in pleasures canst thou find?
More vain than all, that's but to grasp the wind.
The sensual senses for a time they pleasure,
Meanwhile the conscience rage, who shall appease?
What isn't in beauty? No that's but a snare,
They're foul enough today, that once were fair.
What is't in flow'ring youth, or manly age?
The first is prone to vice, the last to rage.
Where is it then, in wisdom, learning, arts?
Sure if on earth, it must be in those parts;
Yet these the wisest man of men did find
But vanity, vexation of the mind.
And he that know the most doth still bemoan
He knows not all that here is to be known.
What is it then? To do as stoics tell,
Nor laugh, nor weep, let things go ill or well?
Such stoics are but stocks, such teaching vain,
While man is man, he shall have ease or pain.
If not in honor, beauty, age, nor treasure,
Nor yet in learning, wisdom, youth, nor pleasure,
Where shall I climb, sound, seek, search, or find
That summum bonum which may stay my mind?
There is a path no vulture's eye hath seen,
Where lion fierce, nor lion's whelps have been,
Which leads unto that living crystal fount,
Who drinks thereof, the world doth naught account.
The depth and sea have said " 'tis not in me,"
With pearl and gold it shall not valued be.
For sapphire, onyx, topaz who would change;
It's hid from eyes of men, they count it strange.
Death and destruction the fame hath heard,
But where and what it is, from heaven's declared;
It brings to honor which shall ne'er decay,
It stores with wealth which time can't wear away.
It yieldeth pleasures far beyond conceit,
And truly beautifies without deceit.
Nor strength, nor wisdom, nor fresh youth shall fade,
Nor death shall see, but are immortal made.
This pearl of price, this tree of life, this spring,
Who is possessed of shall reign a king.
Nor change of state nor cares shall ever see,
But wear his crown unto eternity.
This satiates the soul, this stays the mind,
And all the rest, but vanity we find.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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