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Rêve et Reveil

Warmth which with wonder, waking we
rediscover with the dawn,
is printed, coded cunningly
upon life’s sheets well worn.
Sustaining this intimacy
is reassurance sworn
in mutual acceptancy -
mosaic multi-modal form
where each is willing partner, free,
when new day’s lines are drawn
with or without consistency
as pleases strings untorn
vibrating with a harmony
which must not be foresworn.

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Intimacy

Afraid of intimacy.
A heart that has been stung,
Just once...
Becomes more suspicious,
And less naive...
When a stinging from someone loved,
Is untimely done.

Afraid of intimacy.
Very few are ready to commit to this.
Until assured some consistency,
Is readily given...
In the sharing of mutual needs.

Not many will leave themselves open.
Or acknowledge publicly...
A wish for a love uncompared,
Shared in secret privacy.
And one devoted and discreet.

Afraid of intimacy?
Not me!
Whether private in discreet...
Or publicly displayed on crowded streets.
I seek a one on one!
That would suit me perfectly.
But these days that kind of intimacy,
Seems to be antiquated history.

Afraid of intimacy.
Very few are ready to commit to this.
Until assured some consistency,
Is readily given...
In the sharing of mutual needs.

And that would be my philosophy,
Regarding how I feel about intimacy.
An act complete of 'shared' familiarity.
Not something done to walk away from and leave.
That's nothing more than satisfying a convenience.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fountain of Dreams

FOUNTAIN OF DREAMS

From dreams into reality
Reeled frames unpeel hopes' filmy foam,
Open imagination, roam
More, more than most may ever see.
Fast flicker fades apparently,
Or maybe finds a second home
Urging inner honeycomb -
Neuronal mind mass - subtly
To rediscover harmony
As drops pull out all stops to free
Insight bright of starry dome
Newborn, untorn, in polychrome
Offering serendipity
From here until eternity.
Dreams' rainbow bridges sea to sea.
REal dress rehearsal thus provide,
AMalgamating in/outside.
Splice light to life's soft symphony.

23 July 2008

robi03_1789_robi03_0000 AXX_KZX

Fountain of Dreams poem © Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Waking Edge

As I wake up in a room somewhere...
Dawn light not yet showing.
Theres just a thin horizon between me and her...
The edge of a half-dream glowing.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night.
Strange how the sheets are warm beside me.
Now, how do I catch the waking edge?
As it slips to the far and wide of me.
Didnt I try to hold it down?
Freeze on the picture, hang sharp on the sound.
Catch the waking edge
Another time.
Familiar shadows in my hotel room
Are still here for the taking.
They seem to linger on as the street lights fade
And the empty dawn is breaking.
Private movie showing in my head...
Which button do I press for re-run?
And how do I catch the waking edge?
The edge of a dream about someone.
Well, you know, I felt her in my dream last night...
Now the sheets are cold beside me.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0027 Dreaming truth

Imagine yourself -
yourself, to imagine –
this dream; dream
this imaging:

the water’s so far, far below
it’s beyond this dark imagining, this dream;
all your attention is required
by this rope bridge,
swayed by nature to some immediate, vibrating laws
of this way, that way, more complex
than steel or concrete bear in mind –
five lines of rope, that’s all,
bound from time to time
but only every few and fearful steps
so that they do not part
unless you tread without remembering
all five of them; toe, heel, as you place your foot…

and now it seems, in the illogical
precision of this dream – which is in
league with some dark inner truth
and so, it must be walked – now,
it’s not five ropes, any more,
but five strings of some instrument
vibrating, low and high; while tense, taut mind
looks for firm frets to tune each step;
or can you trust their tuning?
is the tuning now the fingers of your feet?

each fallible or faulty foothold
will send its string’s own warning of uncertainty:
this bass string, booming failure between the valley’s two high cliffs;
this treble string, nerve-searing scream of pain;
ahead, this firm support that holds the strings, now
drops away; the hollow soundbox that’s all space,
all sound, all air, all touch and light and flow of sound;
the sound of judgment’s stern and justly-tempered final chord –

now you awake: relieved, yet with a question,
born of night, to be resolved by day;
what does the dream tell to the waking thought?
what does the waking thought tell of the dream?
some metaphor for life inhabited your dream;
some knowledge passed, wrapped in a metaphor;
you only know, that it was watched – by whom?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Autumn in Mosaic! !

Shreds of red n orange, on base very jade
Spread in the yard, winters on the chase
Tangled all the way, dispersal is its phase
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.

Chills in the wind, blowing in all grace
No warmth in trees, no more cozy shades
Saying bye with a hope, then asks to wait
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.

Same were the days
You by my side and a hint of haze
Lost somewhere, never solved that maze
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.

Come home back to me, you are dearly missed
For world its fall, but my heart's ablaze
Desires so many, like the buds in Mays
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.

poem by Samima Shah
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Multi-Modal 'I Love because I Must! ' in response to Beth St. Clair Discovery

'Must! ' musty turns, 'might' fails if over time
Infatuation's blocked, love locked awry,
Nor can our best intentions answer why
Dust dust returns, why swifly ends life's rhyme.
One heart alone beats seizure unforeclosed,
Responds with sharing, caring, therefore needs
Hope's reinforcement, feeds affection's seeds
Extending rainbow bridge metamorphosed
As interpenetration stimulates
Reel danced by two beyond the end of days
To underscore whole more than parts may phrase.
Here multi-modal harmony creates
Enchantment which may stitch effect and cause,
Asks and receives, ignoring mortal laws.

(11 May 2008)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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I'm a temptress

I tempt tempests into my arms
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened air I sing
Otherwise it'll blow up

I tempt tempo piano presto
The tip of my tongue hissing at tones
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened sound I sing
Otherwise
The earth would be silent and empty

I tempt tempera into the colours
The paint now dripping sprinkles the walls
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened stones I sing
Otherwise
Nothing would be built

2010.

©Miroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Midnight Has Gone

Waking days...
Dawn.
Those waking days...
Come.
Those waking days...
Have arrived,
And...
Shines on minds the Sun.

Waking days...
Dawn.
Those waking days...
Come.
Those waking days...
Have arrived,
And...
Shines on minds the Sun.

Midnight has gone,
In awakening days.
To move away those obstacles fading
Midnight has gone,
In awakening days.
To chase away the darkness...
And,
A pain once felt that has moved on.

Waking days...
Dawn.
Those waking days...
Come.
Those waking days...
Have arrived,
And..
Shines only brightness from the Sun.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Strange Shiver.........

A strange shiver of kindly feel,
Veiled me all over,
A crush i made on beauty of life,
The beauty enclosing strings of codes...

I pushed the codes in a forward flash,
I peeped the transparency coding,
Neither the flash came before,
Nor the eye balls caught the coded steps....

I tried, tried and tried to decode,
But too stubborn was the beauty,
The beauty who build life,
And carved the coding of the codes....

Than, i made my mind to desert,
Desert the challenge of decoding codes,
I left the life's beauty to live itself,
And accounted myself with emptyness....

I tried, i said, i treid my best,
But the beauty stead-fast me always,
Never it said to entangle myself,

I said 'k' to the said command,
I stilled the thought of decoding codes,
I left the issue sustaining beauty,
I guess the codes will themselves decode,
The moral side of life's beauty,
Let me not pretend to know,
As life is the best decoder............

poem by Abeer Zehra
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Geometry Seeds Of Life

the universe bodies
of life are born in
geometry seeds of life

living walls contain secrets
of ephemeral beating...
creation purpose life breath

numbers form divine sacred
veiled geometric relationships
living in growing balance

life branches nautilus shell sun
flower coded internal harmony
growing in mathematical balance

eye all galactic universes
spiral grow in physical balance
seed packed time expansive

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Faces of the Future

Spiral chromosomes displace
the plastic threads of destiny,
printed coded touchstone trace
on man’s genetic memory.

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Song Approaches New Grace

SONG APPROACHES NEW GRACE
Song Approaches New Grace Through One Mission Accomplished. Magic Aim Unites Dreams, Empathy, Contentment

SONG which both strong and tender tries to be
APPROACHES sonnet sequence with a smile,
NEW robes for old shakespearian dons awhile,
GRACE praising to her face eternally
THROUGH lines which many levels twine, - yet free
ONE message steady signs, resists time's trial -
MISSION meant to fertilize hope's phial,
ACCOMPLISHED over all add_verse_city.
MAGIC pen, when granted liberty,
AIM guides flame to fruition, free from guile,
UNITES both heart and head with simple style.
DREAMS ideal rejoin reality,
EMPATHY sinks need for thought yet feeds
CONTENTMENT, joy, restranding Shakespeare’s seeds…

? 2001 revised 27 September 2008
robi03_0964_shak01_0000 AQS_IXX
see below for alternative 5 final lines

ALLY heart, and head to reconcile
UNLIMITED, and multi-modal style,
DANCE and inner glance with chance to free
ENDLESSLY dream is our care, to key
LIGHT flight restranding Shakespeare versatile.

Song Approaches New Grace poem (c) Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Wife is driven to wall.[India]

A woman as a wife is pathetic.
She starts her career as a sleeping partner,
Then as a yielding partner, a competing partner,
A demanding partner and a losing partner.
No time was she a choosing partner.
She winds up as a deceived partner
And a sexually deceased partner.

In days to some, she will turn
to decry wifehood and defy manhood.
27.05.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Do This For Yourself

Waking up and giving 'thanks',
Should dawn...
At the crack of the morning.

And waking up to say a prayer,
Would daily rid with a forgetting...
Those moans one groans to go on.

Appreciating more of life,
Than to moan and groan...
And choosing something that is liked,
Will...
Make living life better,
To chase away what has gone.

Get up determined to feel grateful...
Everyday.
Get up determined to feel loved...
Everyday.
Get up determined to confess...
Blessings!
And...
Do this for yourself everyday.

Waking up and giving 'thanks',
Should dawn.
And...
Do this for yourself everyday.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Other Poet, Some Other Poetry

and yes, since we can all dream
some other life – but do not, cannot,
dream its divergences, its accidents,
its departures and arrivals,

I dream some other life
rich in metaphor
so that nothing seen, but
draws into the mind its strange partner
far across the world:
food on a plate seen as
a battlefield; a chair as atoms;
a rainstorm as a marriage;
a fieldmouse as an empire;

and across years, the whole planet
drawn two by two into the arked mind
meeting its metaphoric partner and
questioning its own image of itself
living in strangeness

and in after years
a figure seen, in knee-high leather hunting boots
striding through city streets
seeing not a city but a world;
living words as if meeting strangers,
waking simultaneously in many heavens,
knowing the unknown into its own future words

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Cau Sloncek

Little white lines will take your life
You smoke some stuff and try to ease your mind
Drown in booze your gonna lose
The stakes are your life when you try to pay those dues
You've got him breathing down your neck
And soon you'll see your just a marionette
Who pulls the strings
Who makes you do those things
Who pulls the strings
Who makes you do those things
You think your free but these chains you cannot see
They're wrapped tight on you and they never let you be
Sins desire will take you down to the fire
But God's the only one who can stop the twisted liar

song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspirations

Life...

instills in me inspiration

like breath in the air

tact to venture free.

Family...

Loved ones who are there

when I need encouragement

whom I can rely for support.

Wife...

A partner who shares

everything with intimacy

In health and in sickness.

Children...

Reason why I do my best

to support them their needs

for they are me in the future.

Jesus...

My primary spiritual inspiration

Who guides my soul and gives wisdom

to overcome all life's adversities and trials.

All these are my inspirations

they make my life complete

and meaningful.

poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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The Warmth Of The Sun

What good is the dawn
That grows into day
The sunset at night
Or living this way
For I have the warmth of the sun
(warmth of the sun)
Within me at night
(within me at night)
The love of my life
She left me one day
I cried when she said
I dont feel the same way
Still I have the warmth of the sun
(warmth of the sun)
Within me tonight
(within me tonight)
Ill dreams of her arms
And though theyre not real
Just like shes still there
The way that I feel
I loved like the warmth of the sun
(warmth of the sun)
It wont ever die
(it wont ever die)

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intimacy is feared

Lovers fear secrecy
As they both have secrecy.
Intimacy means connecting
The inner core of the two,
Which will expose their weak spots,
Fearing which they fear intimacy.
They want bodily intimacy
Without soul’s intimacy.
Such intimacy betrays trust
And will wreck the very love.
15.12.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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