Reflections: Bridal Reign Or Bridle Rein?
Mirror, tell us mortals all
Is it Bride before fast fall?
Revelation of defeat?
Resplendent triumph? Joy complete?
Or hooded warning naught can stall
Recalling Chance consumes conceit?
Mirrored hand from sable shawl
Isolating wherewithal
Regretting wrinkles, tease or cheat.
Room for no groom when scythe's tithe treat
Outplays Hope's hand and trumps heart's call,
Refusing wedding band replete.
Mirrored lily blank receipt
In time to come when Time's dumb beat
Retrieves blanched gifts, lifts veil on pall
Returning dust to dust, recall
Of pregnant promise, harvest wheat
Rich Death's drought withered, seedless, small.
Mirrored grasp, last gasp, catchall
Icing dreams that once stood tall,
Rescinding promises pure, sweet,
Refusing prayers that children greet:
One wonders why life's mortal thrall
Runs out untimely, doom must meet.
Mirrored fingers grace-girl maul,
Intensely grip with gruesome gall,
Respite ungranted, paraclete
Regretfully cannot compete
Or face refrain of Fate's footfall
Retrenching humble, vain, slow, fleet.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Wafer
The Present: a nano-thin wafer wall
on which we wanderers waiver, stall
for time - waifs small on ant-heap tall -
soon turned to ashes spurned, shred shawl
on which we pile from fast Past’s dust,
rich dream state which maintains its thrall
to spell Man’s time-plan wherewithal -
framework contextual all-in-all.
This transient recorded scrawl
upon the wall of fate thus must
seem progam which can disinstall
itself when system crashes - fall
whose ripples often waterfall
from chaos and beginnings small -
an ore shawl for next cycle’s rust –
from an apparent free-for-all,
create conditions for long haul,
new ball-game to begin it all
again and open options call.
There is no suit, no overcall,
no certitudes test stand, no trawl
to net immortal treasure haul
reducing time's hands to a crawl,
no trumps to draw nor hand to bust,
no eth[n]ic insight to recall
Fate's finger witness to forestall
mortal misgivings’ babble brawl.
Time 's spin yin yang spurs Future’s ball
which strays yet heedless stays withal,
ever in need of overhaul.
We wonder why fate's fleet footfall
ignores far, near, star dear, fear, trust,
quite unconcerned with mortal pall,
oblivious to the rise and fall
of Man’s un-echoed caterwaul.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Bitter-Sweet Triple Sonnet - Current Version
Once Black, White, could compete
no neutral grey'd encumber
life's canvas - harvest wheat
framed golden peace aslumber.
Now hope tree's ninety feet
is felled, logged down as lumber,
eco-system complete
with canopy's down-under.
Grey - neutral once - concrete
ugly urban tundra
now witnesses, pain's street
paves joy's grave, wanton plunder.
Enthralled pure white delete,
grey pall shawl sprawls - death's treat.
Long nights creep bitter-sweet,
love's lightning darts stunned, under
bright stars two no more meet,
wan true heart torn asunder.
Wor[l]d block where wont to greet
glowed soul-pair sharing wonder, -
there hole weighs whole defeat
bewailing blindest blunder.
Moon bale, clouds shroud deceit,
light veiled from countless number
of throttled hopes, dead-beat
memories encumber.
Who'd read rimed rhyme complete,
need couplet indiscreet?
Despair in winding sheet
stifles resentment's thunder,
where weary tears repeat
wear, tear, bare bodkin's funda-
mental balance-sheet
pro's conned or misunder-
stood, as gale blown wheat,
scattered harvest plunder.
Drops sully virgin sheet
as sally weeps lost slumber
red-eyed vigil replete
with wishful-thinking scumber.
Was plighted troth tryst treat,
commitments vain conceit?
(14 March 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Lady Of Shalott Wove Her Tapestry
the Lady of Shalott wove her tapestry over time time time
copying mirrored images faithfully seen in mind mind mind
her weaving life scenes days passing was safe slow slow slow
unfolding life mysteries ever window passing must time go go go
mirrored images replace life risk realities if we safe stay stay stay
love glimpsed mirror cracks heart spins fate feared today today today
love births embraced unfrequented love three steps slays slays slays
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Mirror, Mirror On The Wall
Mirror mirror on the wall
You reflect the image of how far we fall
from grace as we consider the face
we believe ourselves to be.
Is that all that most of us see?
We are fooled by that looking glass.
And yet we glimpse at it as we pass
all of our imperfections we carry around.
But inside our eyes what is found
is the soul that accepts all of our flaws.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
I must always try to recall
who I am and always shall be.
It's certainly not just what I see.
For I am more than my image shows,
more than my figure, my height, my pose.
I am who I've always been,
not this body that I find I'm in.
I am the earth, the sun, the moon.
I am the morn, the night, the noon.
And so I say to my mirrored wall.
'You can't ever reflect me.
For you don't know me at all.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Non Nobis Solum - 1763
More dear than words appear for me you'll be
As long as sands withstand tide's ebb and flow
Unquantifiable each quality
Distinguishes from others' come and go.
Emerging wings shed thorn stings from sweet rose,
Complexity turns simple when sweet scents
Miraculous cocoon metamorphose,
A boon drawn up at 'dawn of days' events.
Uneven as rhyme's meter must appear
Driven by heart which charts no boundaries,
Externals show slight tithe of what shines clear:
MAgnificence whose mirrored mysteries
Untie time's thrall, true call perpetuate.
DEscent's unknown in modesty's estate!
(15 June 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Hand On Heart
All eyes were staring you floated through the room
Aarmed with your razor smile cutting to the bone
My voice fell useless you flashed a quick hello
Feeling the fool, could you tell it showed?
But that was sometime ago
A memory vague and fading slow, of somewhere Id been
Hand on heart
A promise, a word, and a voice
Hand on heart
A rhythm of hope and choice will keep us together
I dont know if I can reach that high
Its a long way to fall
Hauntingly holding my fate with a gaze
Like a child mesmerized by the candles flame
Oh what lies behind those eyes
I could only guess
That certain way you stood apart frome rest
Now where is sotime ago?
Whene everything moved in slow-mo-tion
Caught by my watering eye
Hand on heart
A promise, a word and a voice
Hand on heart
Promising Ill never go
Hand on heart
For reasons youll never know, together through thick and thin,
Lose or win, Ill be there for you
Strange how the mind changes time and time again
Thins once important now pale in comparison
Hand on heart
A promise, a word, and a voice
Hand on heart
A rhythm of hope, and a vision of choice
Hand on heart
Promising Ill never go
Hand on heart for reasons youll never know
I promise girl, hand on heart
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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August Hands
Destiny's child knows his hour
Treasured as Infinity's hand
Child of the wind sweeps eternal
A gypsy's twirl on the land
A brief respite from the minute
As charted by these hands
Retrieved the king and pawn, forgiven
Humbled by Eternity's hand
Each bequeathed a legacy
Time's anchor in the sand
And infinite love imparts
Hope's echo of the man
As is written in the stars
The vessel is bound to land
Mirrored the return of an image
Your ghost plays Destiny's hand.
poem by Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black
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Mirror
Human values
Mirrored images
Engrossed in self
Magic imago,
Mirrored minds
Engrossed in self
No moral code,
Minded mirrors
Engrossed in self
Imago of banked souls,
Awakened souls
Engrossed in self
No nourishment,
Graffiti walls
Magic in the mirror
Engrossing secret codes,
Erosion of values
Image deterioration,
Anarchy consuming
Human values.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Bloom
Did flowers bloom when you were born?
Did love learn to hang itself upon your mirrored face?
I remember when
You stood so tall in Heaven
In the hallways and out in the great wide open
But now you live in the shadows
You creep
Did you hear the trumpet call
Or was the pied piper too strong
in your ear?
Did he make you fall?
Did he make you crawl?
And by gutter or alleyway
Did you leave the same as you came?
And did you get to keep God's grace
If you promised…
You did promise
To return,
Didn't you?
God bless you in the morning
God bless you all afternoon
God bless you in the evening
And at night time too
Now it's time to lay you down
you need your sleep
And when you awake, you should pray
Pray to God that it's your soul He takes
I pray to God that He takes your soul
Did flowers bloom when you were born?
Did flowers bloom
In all the workings of their hands
Did they take from you the grace of Heaven
Did they strip that from you too?
In your grand escape
In your one mistake
Wherever you are
Do flowers still bloom by you?
poem by God Diaries
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Milkmaid
The girl's far treble, muted to the heat,
calls like a fainting bird across the fields
to where her flock lies panting for her voice,
their black horns buried deep in marigolds.
They climb awake, like drowsy butterflies,
and press their red flanks through the tall branched grass,
and as they go their wandering tongues embrace
the vacant summer mirrored in their eyes.
Led to the limestone shadows of a barn
they snuff their past embalmed in the hay,
while her cool hand, cupped to the udder's fount,
distils the brimming harvest of their day.
Look what a cloudy cream the earth gives out,
fat juice of buttercups and meadow-rye;
the girl dreams milk within her body's field
and hears, far off, her muted children cry.
poem by Laurie Lee
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We Live, Borrow, Die
We mooch from Time which holds our souls in fee,
Each second stretches short, few make ends meet,
Lies most greet with more lies, man's span spins fleet
In wayward venture, tenure scans Fate's see.
Voice for choice can't stall Eternity,
End sighted, bold goals slighted, none Chance cheat,
Born just to fizzle, phut, bust, worm in wheat,
Our die's cry's fast cast on life's heedless sea.
Responses weak in sect some seek, fear free,
Reviving karma some rewards seek sweet,
On some hearts falls fell drawbridge, self-deceit
Where cause, effect are twisted out of key.
DIne, flask from empty cask drain, desert strip
Echoes ignores, core's terminus: - vain t[r]ip.
15 April 2005 revised 12 January 2010
robi03_1278_robi03_0000 ASX_DJZ
for previous version see below
WE LIVE, BORROW, DIE
W e live on Time which holds itself in fee,
E ach second stretches short, few dare stars greet.
L ies man meets with more lies, his span spins fleet
I n wayward venture, tenure scans Fate's see.
V oice for choice can't stall Eternity,
E nd sighted, aims are slighted, none Chance cheat,
B orn but to fizzle, phut, with worm in wheat,
O ur die's fast cast upon life's swirling sea.
R esponses weak in sects some seek, fear free,
R eviving karma some rewards seek sweet,
O n some hearts falls fell drawbridge of deceit
W here cause, effect are twisted out of key.
DI ne, fed, drain flask, ask bread, by desert strip
E cho empty, terminus, vain trip.
15 April 2005
robi03_1278_robi03_0000 ASX_DJZ
Acrostic Sonnet - WE LIVE, BORROW, DIE
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Prosperity Palls
PROSPERITY PALLS
The era of pleasure is over for ever,
prosperity palls, seldom fails to appal.
When seeking some sanity see we should sever
last links with societal sirens that call
after all with fast laughter, considering never
that Man’s many illusions to dust must soon fall,
as dispassionate Death’s thrall not even keen, clever,
can ever avert, all are measured withal.
Vain attempts to escape fate prove empty endeavour
for sooner or later all sleep in Time's shawl.
© Jonathan Robin 9 October 1978 revised 27 September 2008
robi03_0162_robi03_0000 XXX_JZX
for previous version see below
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIII
Prosperity Palls
The era of pleasure is over for ever,
prosperity palls where it does not appal.
When seeking some sanity see, we must sever
last links with Society ’s sirens that call
after all with fast laughter, considering never
that Man’s many illusions to dust must soon fall,
as dispassionate Death’s thrall not even the clever
can ever avert, for he measures us all, -
and attempts to escape him are empty endeavour
for sooner or later all sleep in his shawl!
9 October 1978
poem by Jonathan Robin
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An Ugly Duckling
Satan you think
that you are
positively
oh so lovely,
but your insidious
insincere soul,
is really really
disgustingly ugly.
Your face
is mirrored sadly
not so clean
it shows
evil lean mean
the enormity
amassed of all
your vile sin.
You have deliberately
purposefully
put humanity tormented
through or in.
It shows
clearly
hideously
the enormity
of all the lying
heinous vile sin.
You have
cravenly
gleefully
indulged in.
Your vile corrupted face
your whole vile body,
vibrates revoltingly
sickeningly,
intensified mirrored evil
incarnate,
festering within depths
rotting your insipid soul,
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Bitter-Sweet - Initial Version
Long nights creep bitter-sweet,
love's lightning darts stunned, under
bright stars two no more meet,
wan true heart torn asunder.
Wor[l]d block where wont to greet
glowed soul-pair sharing wonder, -
there hole weighs whole defeat
bewailing blindest blunder.
Moon bale, clouds shroud deceit,
light veiled from countless number
of throttled hopes, dead-beat
memories encumber.
Who'd read rimed rhyme complete,
need couplet indiscreet?
Despair in winding sheet
stifles resentment's thunder,
where weary tears repeat
wear, tear, bare bodkin's funda-
mental balance-sheet
pro's conned or misunder-
stood, as gale blown wheat,
scattered harvest plunder.
Drops sully virgin sheet
as sally weeps lost slumber
red-eyed vigil replete
with wishful-thinking scumber.
Was plighted troth tryst treat,
commitments vain conceit?
(6 December 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Often?
How often may one meet
‘antidisestablishmentarianism’
in a poem, complete?
How many rant, defeat
harmony spewing sackcloth and ash aneurism,
heart-break volcanoes tie_rant cheat!
Is contemporary muse's seat
based more upon unchannelled antagonism's
compensatory self-deceit
than prose which flows slow to beat fleet
Time’s tempo and bigotry’s authoritarianism
monosyllabic feet?
Soul-song symphony seeks beat
juxtaposing sound sense's synchronism
with sounds' sensitivity sweet.
for previous version see below
How Often?
How often may we meet
‘antidisestablishmentarianism’
in a poem, complete? –
Is poetry’s pseudo seat
based more upon ‘communicationarism’s
fictional deceit
than prose which flows slow to beat fleet
Time’s tempo and bigotry’s authoritarianism
monosyllabic feet?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Magic Mirror
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s the fairest fair of all?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s the smartest head of all?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s that girl standing tall?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who's to hold me when I fall?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Why are you not answering my call?
Oh mirror...
The lines and the scars you do not hide;
My scattered thoughts you would not guide.
Me myself and I; the gap so wide.
Oh mirror; you make me look inside!
You show me a girl against the tide,
By the rules she would not abide.
Within your frame, a caged spirit am I?
By your name, what voice have I?
Oh mirror … can you hear me?
My mirror is deceiving me!
I will show you my smile... will you let me?
A star in my eyes... will you get me?
I will show you a happy face... please let me!
A shelter from myself... please get me!
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Do not show me her face;
I have killed her and left no trace.
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
She shall never stutter;
With a new voice, words she will utter.
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Her fear you shall never show;
Fearless she is to know.
Mirror... mirror on the wall,
Do not point at her scars;
It hurts... not her scars.
Oh mirror...
There is no Santa but tell her not;
Dreams are dreams but wake her not.
She will give in... tell her not to.
She will give up... tell her not to.
Cruel mirror...
Why show me a figure so broken?
Why tell me words unspoken?
My mirror...
Every time I look at you
I miss a line in her face.
Every time I come to you
A part of her I erase.
Every time I need you
I abandon her grace.
So my mirror..
Where is the little fat girl that you used to show me?
Where are the frightened eyes that used to look at me?
Is she still hiding her smile with her hand?
Is she still looking for a magic wand?
You loved her not;
You loved me a lot!
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
What have I done?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Where has she gone?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Which way do I run?
Yes mirror...
How I wish I could give you my back
and never look at you again.
How I wish I could leave you on a rack
and never fall for your tricks again.
Oh mirror... Why can’t you lie?
Why don’t you tell me that I am the fairest fair of all?
Why don’t you tell me that I am the smartest head of all?
Why don’t you let me stand proud and tall?
Will you at least be there when I fall?
Oh … Mirror … mirror on the wall …
Why are you not answering my call?
poem by Marwa Rakha
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He’s Coming Soon
For most, the time has been so long
I’ve heard my children’s cry
Prepare to sing your wedding song
Your Groom is drawing nigh
He’s coming soon; at last you’ll meet
Upon the Wind you’ll ride
My joy will soon be made complete
When Christ is by your side
Look up; sweet bride, I’ve heard your prayer
Receive your robes of Light
Your Bridegroom’s cloud is almost there
He’ll soon be in your sight
In faith, you’ve answered Jesus’ call
I know you love my Son
In righteousness He’ll greet you all
And then you’ll both be one
Prayers are diamonds your lips have said
Rubies are songs you sing
Your praise great sapphires for your head
Your love’s a wedding ring
Your tears of pearl will never fade
Though hurt, you grew so fair
From all your jewels my Son has made
A crown for you to wear
I’ve longed to have you dwell with me
I’ve loved you from the start
So come my child come now and see
The treasures of my heart
For you my sweet and faithful few
My doors are open wide
With life eternal promised you
There’s so much love inside….
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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He's Coming Soon
Time, for many has been so long
I’ve heard my children’s cry
Prepare to sing your wedding song
Your Groom is drawing nigh
He’s coming soon, at last you’ll meet
Upon the Wind you’ll ride
My joy will soon be made complete
When Christ is by your side
Look up sweet bride, I’ve heard your prayer
Receive your robes of Light
Your Bridegroom’s cloud is almost there
He’ll soon be in your sight
In faith, you’ve answered Jesus’ call
I know you love my Son
In righteousness He’ll greet you all
And then you’ll both be one
Prayers are diamonds your lips have said
Rubies are songs you sing
Your praise great sapphires for your head
Your love’s a wedding ring
Your tears of pearl will never fade
Though hurt, you grew so fair
From all your jewels my Son has made
A crown for you to wear
I’ve longed to have you dwell with me
I’ve loved you from the start
So come my child come now and see
The treasures of my heart
For you my sweet and faithful few
My doors are open wide
With life eternal promised you
There’s so much love inside…
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Ralph to Mary
Love, you have led me to the strand,
Here, where the stilly, sunset sea,
Ever receding silently,
Lays bare a shining stretch of sand;
Which, as we tread, in waving line,
Sinks softly 'neath our moving feet;
And looking down our glances meet,
Two mirrored figures--yours and mine.
To-night you found me sad, alone,
Amid the noisy, empty books
And drew me forth with those sweet looks,
And gentle ways which are your own.
The glory of the setting sun
Has sway'd and softened all my mood;
This wayward heart you understood,
Dear love, as you have always done.
Have you forgot the poet wild,
Who sang rebellious songs and hurl'd
His fierce anathemas at 'the world,'
Which shrugg'd its shoulders, pass'd and smil'd?
Who fled in wrath to distant lands,
And sitting, thron'd upon a steep,
Made music to the mighty deep,
And thought, 'Perhaps it understands.'
Who back return'd, a wanderer drear,
Urged by the spirit's restless pain,
Sang his wild melodies in vain--
Sang them to ears that would not hear. . .
A weary, lonely thing he flies,
His soul's fire with soul's hunger quell'd,
Till, sudden turning, he beheld
His meaning--mirrored in your eyes! . . .
Ah, Love, since then have passed away
Long years ; some things are chang'd on earth;
Men say that poet had his worth,
And twine for him the tardy bay.
What care I, so that hand in hand,
And heart in heart we pace the shore?
My heart desireth nothing more,
We understand,--we understand.
I Took Your Face into My Dreams
I took your face into my dreams,
It floated round me like a light;
Your beauty's consecrating beams
Lay mirrored in my heart all night.
As in a lonely mountain mere,
Unvisited of any streams,
Supremely bright and still and clear,
The solitary moonlight gleams,
Your face was shining in my dreams.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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