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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Recalculation
Place and Time no meaning may retain
As Time and space skeins melt down, disappear,
Sounds, colours, perfumes magic merge, as here
Calculations fail, all trammels vain.
A new day dawns, whose joys shall e’er remain.
Lightning fast love came, must last a mere
Eternity or two, to cleanse, make clear.
Patterns fit, hope’s picture fills life’s train
Advances, puzzle pieces finds, can gain
Some insight into mysteries to steer
Consciousness through dreams till dreams appear
As true to life as life whose sun won’t wane.
Look, thus, no further for those answers which
Each seeks to weave life’s blessings, joys to stitch.
(5 August 1999/acrostic sonnet Pascale)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life's Game is Gamble
Life's game is gamble, many cards are held
close to Fate’s heart whose trumpet trumps. The odds
are clearly stacked in favour of the Gods.
Yet Hope provides fresh impetus to meld
energies which, channelled, are beheld
to fire ambitions onwards, upwards – nods
before vainglory sinks beneath the sods
and only phantom memories are spelled
by living ghosts, - who are themselves compelled
to tread too soon same way with weary plods –
the road of No Return. Death’s finger prods
recalcitrants, - saints, sinners, equal knelled.
No Joker may be played as panacea,
yet harmony adversity can conquer.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sandrine Sonnet Cycle - Valiant
Should there be nothing new beneath the sun,
And each sensation mirror-imaged time,
Not fact, but fancy of the most sublime, -
Depending on those stimuli which run
Right through the system swiftly, scarce begun
In flash succession, then, encased in rime,
No more from store recalled. This pantomime
Expression of our dreams is like the sun:
Valiant now, and now eclipsed, undon! –
A vicious cricle, faceless clock, whose chime
Is out of tune, and whose diurnal climb
Leads round, repeats impressions one by one.
Lighthouse lantern is one smile, whose blaze
Approximates Nirvana, Threads my days!
Acrostic sonnet written 28 October 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Whale of a Tale
Hail bishop with memory frail
wound up when night's sup d[r]owned pale ale,
in Tooting Bec Garden
sin rooting wreck, hard-on,
but confessions too catholic fail.
Head made headlines, unfortunate tale,
he could make neither heads or tails, bail
may be sought for the sot
got his lot, potty plot
grows thicker, and sicker, all quail.
For at least from his priests rose gale wail
on the whale of the tale, they'd prevail
on the bish with boys' toys
who should fish for souls' buoys,
for repentance for leaving gael trail.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alone
A phone that seldom rings, or never,
Sounds like a life-line coiled, unused,
A link to light that stands accused,
Left hanging in the never-never.
Life is so short, so soon to sever,
A call can save, and one refused
Leaves empty heart, and mind bemused
Or all at sea. However clever
No diver plunges who would ever
Enthuse or feel the least amused
If, once he sank, trust was abused: -
Cut lines for reason whatsoever!
Remember then the friendly call
You make can take no time at all.
Acrostic sonnet and previous title As All Alone I Cry
robi03_0203_robi03_0000 ASX_JZX
(3 January 1991 revised 5 October 2006)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lady of My Dreams
Let signal sparkle slip between silk sheets
And message mind which finds intentions clear,
Daily sought though thought still to appear,
Yet somehow ever present. This defeats
Our understanding, nonetheless completes
Fine-tuned intuitions hinting cheer.
Magically she’ll grace this lower sphere,
Yearned, here on Earth, seems heaven-sent. Conceits
Defeat ambitions as one rarely meets
Recall, prompts karmic. Time deletes most. Fear
Endangers fancied links that disappear.
Awakening masks dreams’ forgotten sweets.
Mayhap map heart has charted day and night
Shows sharing twins to spin soul’s true delight …
(24 October 1992 revised 31 December 2008/for previous version see below)
Lady of My Dreams
Let your sparkle slip between the sheets
And etch within my mind your message clear.
Daily sought it was, still to appear,
Yet somehow ever present. This defeats
Our understanding, nonetheless completes
Fine-tuned intuitions showing, dear,
Magically you grace this lower sphere.
You, here on Earth, seem heaven-sent. Conceits
Dreams seldom spring to life, one rarely meets
Reminders karmic. Time deletes most. Fear
Endangers fancied links that disappear
Awakening brings longing, half-forgotten sweets.
Mayhap map heart charted day and night
Shows you as twin to spin soul’s true delight …
(24 October 1992 – acrostic sonnet Lady of my dreams)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As Dew from Lily Pearls
AS DEW FROM LILY PEARLS
As dew from lily pea[r]ls away
Stretched time can’t rhyme eternity.
Desire whose fire may warm today
Ephemeris is seen to be.
We pass, time due, climb through life’s play,
Fall, fate forgotten, from life’s tree,
Remembered in leafed album stray,
Or – for a spell – where family
Must thrust dust, trust our writings may
Lift spirits from banality.
If ALL is in, through, ALL our stay
Lingers in some way to key
Youth, age, together, thus may mock despair,
PEARL Seed be[a]d-feed leads to new life, joy rare...
(c) Jonathan Robin acrostic sonnet written 3 January 2007
robi03_1551_robi03_0000 ASX_KZX
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Geraniums would blush
GERANIUMS WOULD BLUSH
Geraniums would blush to see her lips,
And Helen Paris plaster prove to be.
In years to come when rainbow’s mystery
Lies secret solved all souls will know their trips
Have in one smile their origin. Eclipse
Afrights the sun when warming light none see.
Resplendent, ever human quality
Confirmed is from those pearly finger-tips –
Unless Truth lies – to crown from toes to hips.
Such sparkle springs divine, as all agree.
Glad honey-bees for nectar forage free,
Alas for them – not one such sweetness sips!
In platitudes most writers refuge seek –
Life’s poesy through one alone shall speak.
15 June 1992
robi03_0578_robi03_0000 ASX_MOX
Poem © Jonathan Robin acrostic sonnet Gail Harcus
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As Time Slips By - Acrostic Sonnet
As time sleeps by love’s tide [s]weeps sluggard, cold,
Slow beats heart's flow, forgets dreams' heats once sought.
Then, fragile, faith wraith cobwebs spins, sins caught
In Time’s equation web. Where once soul bold
Made music wild, filed, passion dims, short-sold.
Existence pales, stales, fails, - loves tales abort -
Sheds goals, gaols aims at joys ‘chance’ might have brought -
Little cares how life’s tale may unfold.
Inspiration wanes, fears stranglehold,
Plaintive soul retreats to shell, distraught,
Second hand experiences, thought,
Buy time, dismiss love from life's centrefold.
Yawning the abyss which, biding time,
shall swallow every line and every rhyme.
© Jonathan Robin – Acrostic Sonnet written 16 September 2001 revised 7 August 2007
_______________
Passed By
As time drifts by Love’s tide flows coward, cold,
Slow beats sad heart, lost far from dreams once sought.
Too little lust, - blades rust, in cobwebs caught -
In time fires dim which once, in times of old,
Moved untamed ecstasy, flame bold.
Existence paled until encounter brought
Potency restored, fresh friendship taught
A focus fresh, let energies unfold.
Some dreams remain, most vain, in stranglehold
Spirit stifled, struggle not as thought
Experience leaves feelings dulled, distraught,
Dismisses soul from life's bright centrefold.
But chance encounter sets in timeless motion
Yen to advance, to share inspired emotion...
© Jonathan Robin – Acrostic Sonnet written 16 April 2005 as a variation of As Time Slips By – see above
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Polyacrostic Palimpsest - What Will Follow?
Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests
Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition;
Acrostics to be found below:
What will follow - external
Name an Acrostic - vertical from middle
Robin Jonathan - double diagonal from middle
Palimpsest: A manuscript on which more than one text is written
with earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible.
Enjoy!
3 versions below:
4 March 2009
6 January 2007
2 January 1992 [Jonathan Wrobel]
What Will Follow?
Who knows what in our future lies ahead,
How will man's banana skin unpeel,
And thus show him what follows on, reveal
Tomorrow's stated story. Living dead,
We wait and ask vain sages why we're led
In ignorance to never-never's wheel.
Life is lost as man sets out, why steal
Little joys in scheming, joys gainsaid:
Fond intention ropes soon ties instead
Of painting scroll whose links naught need conceal.
Let be all fears, shine out as beacon real.
Look forward to trial met book open, read,
Or is all error, nightmares' terrors where
We puppets find chance rules us? Judgements spare!
© Jonathan Robin polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet written 2 January 1992 revised 4 March 2009
What Will Follow?
Who knows what in our future lies ahead,
How will man's banana skin unpeel,
And thus show him what follows on, reveal
Tomorrow's stated story. Living dead,
We wait and ask vain sages why we're led
In ignorance to never-never's wheel.
Life is lost as man sets out, why steal
Little joys in scheming, joys gainsaid
Fate, in waiting, rarely runs, - instead
Our sins turns to our loss without appeal.
Let be all fears, shine out as beacon real.
Look forward to the future, - grow, love, wed -
Or all’s terror, nightmare error where
We soon will see climactic climes none spare…
© Jonathan Robin polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet written 2 January 1992 revised 6 January 2007
What will Follow?
Who knows what in our future lies ahead,
How will man's banana skin unpeel,
And thus show him what follows on, reveal
Tomorrow's stated story, live or dead.
We wait and ask vain sages why we're led
In ignorance to never-never's wheel.
Life is lost as man sets out, why steal
Little joys in scheming, joys when fed
Fulfill our hearts which lay too long abed.
Our selves we should revive, all sloth repeal,
Let be all fears, shine out as beacon real.
Look forward to the future, - grow, love, wed!
Or all is error, 'tis but nightmare where
We soon will see chance rules us without heir!
Jonathan Wrobel polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet © Jonathan Robin written 2 January 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ambiguity Arose - after Rose Aylmer Walter Savage LANDOR
Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
for Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.
Where is the flush, the lush embrace,
starred eyes that carefree twinkled?
Night draws its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries sinkled.
Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and voice divinely tinkled,
if all behind be ugly, base,
with mind both blind and wrinkled?
Some say unique is every case,
eyes amber, periwinkled,
yet all too soon return to base,
AND DNA's ash sprinkled.
Oh, What avails a pretty face,
bright eye sublimely crinkled,
each must a double lie encase
life left confirms this inkle!
© Jonathan Robin – robi3_0313 parody written 17 December 1991 revised 14 May 2007 and 31 October 2008 Parody Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864 Rose Aylmer for previous versions - title Rose Aylmer's Cousin - see below
Rose Aylmer's Cousin
Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
as Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.
Where is the flush, the lush embrace,
starred eyes that carefree twinkled?
Night draws its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries sinkled.
Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and voice dIvinely tinkled,
if all behind be ugly, base,
with mind both blind and wrinkled?
Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and eye sublimely crinkled,
should it a double lie encase
and life confirm this inkle? ...
© Jonathan Robin – parody written 17 December 1991 revised 14 May 2007 for initial version see below
Rose Aylmer's Cousin
Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
for Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.
The flush once full that did embrace,
those eyes that carefree twinkled,
Night pulls its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries crinkled.
© Jonathan Robin – robi3_0313 parody written 17 December 1991
Parody Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864 Rose Aylmer
Rose Aylmer
Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
Rose Aylmer, all were thine.
Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and signs
I consecrate to thee.
Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864
see also
Rose Aylmer’s Cousin
? ? ?
Gail White
Night of Memories
Rose Aylmer whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and of sighs
I consecrate to thee.
Mr Latimer in County Chronicle 1950
Angela Thirkell 1890_1961
Parody Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864 Rose Aylmer
A Confession
Roundel
I’ve loved but thee, who art but stay!
If told the startling truth must be,
I'llspeak: forget the words, I pray,
'I've loved but thee.'
'Twas not on Herrick, but on me
That Julia cast for many a day
Her wondrous spell of witcherie;
And I it was who, wakeful, lay,
And sighed that I should never see
Rose Aylmer: so I cannot say,
I’ve loved but thee.
Parody Julia – Robert Herrick
and
Parody Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864 Rose Aylmer
Published 1890 J. G. CUPPLES Co. Boston
Herbert Walcott Bowen 1856_1927
Oh, What Avail?
Ah, what avail the loaded dice?
Ah, what the tubs of wine?
What every weakness, every vice?
Tom Cardan, all were thine.
Aldous Huxley 1894_1963 Barren Leaves
Parody Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864 Rose Aylmer
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Came, I Saw, Who Conquered?
I CAME, I SAW, WHO CONQUERED?
Music sudden waved Time's blight,
An incarnation of delight
Unchallenged. Naught continued to
Deny bright beauty, spirit true.
Each blush rose paled, blood ruby too.
Magnificence expelling night,
Acknowledged inner thirst quenched through
Unequalled charm, dream beamed delight
DEfying definitions trite.
Magical our planet blue
Appears to Nature, taps into
Unsullied streams of rainbow hue.
Descriptions fail. These splendours span
Eternities unguessed by man.
28 October 1992 revised 12 October 2008
robi03_0620_robi03_0000 ASX_LXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empowerment
Times of trouble sponge solutions new,
Insight inks page which once seemed whitewash blank.
Grief is patient. Joy greets the dawn to thank
Hope for fresh sparks where all once seemed askew.
The challenge unchains energy that through
Creative actions borrow from the bank
Of inner strength, experiences drank
Retained in brain, regurgitate on cue -
New inklings spliced with instincts tried and true.
Errors past forge future force if frank,
Reproachless one remains, nor closed, nor crank.
Sincerity succeeds if luck smiles too.
Turned, tight corners open vistas which
Empower options sure solutions stitch.
© Jonathan ROBIN 20 August 1992 robi3_0596_robi3_0000 revised 24 June 2007
acrostic sonnet - Tight Corners Turned Empower for previous version see below
Tight Corners
Times of trouble sponge solutions new,
Inklings spring up, ink in what seemed blank.
Grief is patient, joy greets the dawn to thank
Hope for fresh sparks where all appeared askew.
The challenge unchains energy which through
Creative insight borrows from the bank
Of inner strenght and knowled which, once drank,
Retained within the brain was, then, on cue,
New-born did blossom: instinct tried and true.
Errors past forge future force if frank,
Reproachless one remains, and not a crank.
Sincerity succeeds if luck smiles too.
Tight corners prove the mettle of the soul,
Cast off all doubts, rewards you’ll reap, not dole.
20 August 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Foreplay
Seventy seasons sliced by harvest scythe,
sent spent from feast’s fields to untimely grave,
while g[r]azing Time derides begged ebb-tide crave
denies recycled dream, Life’s token tithe.
Who dwells on Death when young and carefree, blithe? -
child heedless plays till taught how to behave.
Adult, aware of all he’d pay to save
from dark forgetfulness, as worm will writhe
an hour, though blind, before brain’s dropped by hive,
good-bye encounters, countdown’s final wave
submerging shawl with pall. Fresh faces pave
new roads, loads, sequent stage for limping, lithe.
Dead end lies destiny both mouse and man
enjoy - span evanescent also-ran.
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0540 written 28 September 1996 revised 23 November 2006 revised as sonnet 3 December 2008 - see below for previous versions initial title Childsplay
Foreplay
Seventy seasons sliced by harvest scythe,
s[p]ent from fields of feasting for[e] Time, grave,
g[r]azes with equanimity, the [g]rave
seems dream recycling tinsel token tithe.
Who dwells on Death when young and carefree, blithe?
Child heedless plays till taught how to behave.
Adult, aware of all he’d give to save
from dark forgetfulness, as worm will writhe
an hour, though blind, before life's final wave
with pall's enshrouded, for fresh paths must pave
subsequent stage for limping, hale, pale, lithe.
Dead end is destiny both mouse and man
enjoy - span evanescent also-ran.
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0540 written 28 September 1996 revised 23 November 2006 modified 17 April 2008 for previous version see below
Childsplay
Seventy years cut from the waiting scythe,
gleaned from fields eternal where Time, grave,
g(r) azes with equanimity, the (g) rave
is but recycling of Life’s token tithe.
Who dwells on Death when young and carefree, blithe? -
the child plays till he’s taught how to behave.
Adult, aware of all he fain would save
from dark forgetfulness, as worm will writhe
an hour, though blind, before the final wave.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Birthday Letter for Lucinda
Let this, your eighteenth birthday, offer you
Unique joy, and understanding’s light,
Cha[lle) nging uncertainties you might
In future face tomorrow with steps true.
New horizons open up, and through
Determination, courage, sage insight, -
All needed if you wish to win the fight
Life weighs against us joy may come. Thus to
Unknown regions venture. Much to do.
Completion still awaits, true wings for flight.
In life stay true to tenets you feel right,
Never betraying principles, virtue.
Decide to use your mind and you will find
A new world welcome, - work up from behind...
© Jonathan Robin – acrostic sonnet robi3_0593_robi3_0000 LUCINDA written 5 August 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cause and Consequence
Many options chance and choice might sow,
Although what meets the eye needs second-sight
Undoing ill that second-thoughts may show
DEspairing seeker after answers bright.
Much harm is done when wishful thinking mocks
Advancing voice or crystal image which
Unlocks outlook unfortunate or blocks
DEsired outcome grieving heart would stitch.
Most roads rejoin itinerary pre-traced,
As cause and consequence are intertwined,
Use or abuse of options closed, unlaced,
DEtermines more than mortal mind may find
Confined within fate's eye-ball wishing well
Creating mirror heaven or hell could spell...
[c] Jonathan Robin acrostic sonnet written 27 June 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forget-Me-Not Wishful Thinking
Forget-me-not seems wishing well
of wishful thinking, all eyes dim,
leaves fall, the seasons pass, red rim
sees eyes once bright before time fell
on expectations bright to tell
all's wishful-thinking. To the brim
drink deep life's draught, the odds are slim
that age page fills for fame's brief spell
soon sinks, leaves only heads to swell,
oblivion to all is grim
fate shared, despair for harlot, prim.
Life's page - joy, rage, - may living hell
appear to some, to others dream
phantasmogorical false gleam.
(18 August 2011)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!