Related quotes: Societal challenge: momentum gathers pace....

Sane seems insane

Societal challenge: momentum gathers pace.
Another thirty years? our span of grace
Now seems in meltdown clinging to a space
Extremely tenuous, fragile as race
Speeds to untimely end for human race.
Early or late trend tends towards disgrace,
Early or late Fate leaves behind no trace -
May in December ends in any case.
Sane and in[s]ane identically chase
Ideals predestined to black hole bleak. Brace
Now before bleak winds of change unlace
Storms Richter scarce suspected and uncase
Apocalypse which ‘progress’ will replace.
Necks thrust through Time's noose, loose ends, harsh Past
End of Days Present, Future b[l]ind - die cast.

1 December 1991 revised 31 October 2008

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Channels

CHANNELS

Each second spins, dissolves, fresh mesh to weave
flesh minutes in strange sequence, interlace
the hours which daily years refresh to race
ganesh unknown.

Each thought wave ripples outwards to conceive
a cause/effect relationship few trace
and fewer find the time to interface
with the unsown.

Yet all makes sense where channels to receive
decode what static seems to those who’d lace
the edges of their cells of time and place
together thrown

while Time itself, intending to deceive,
here tosses coin, replaces tail with face,
there spin repeats, initial choice erase
with cards unshown.

What some receive as Gospel, strong believe,
others hold as heresy, disgrace.
Black, white, day, night, lack insight to replace
with hid what’s shown.

On ignorance credes feed when doubters cleave
to certitudes where, insecure, they chase
from fount to font minds blind or lower case,
can’t call their own

an attitude where tolerance would leave
for others understanding, living space
to foster common interest with good grace,
not pick a bone.

Thread true to pattern, facettes fractal reeve
retinal after-image to encase
the here and now in setting far from base –
hear, how’s, tune-tone.

Each thought wave push me-pull you t(r) ies to heave
sigh of relief, - burst bottlenecks Change brace
for interlink to ink invent, deplace
accent ‘chance’ blown.

Life Lakshmi surfs on foam of make-believe,
leaves fall, leave echo (c) old, untold, embrace
the stirrings of another zeitgeist’s pace …
as challenge prone.

Second thoughts conjur hell or saving grace,
momentum gathered rushes on a-pace,
continuous, relentless, rolling race
to the unknown…

Outline sketched 12 October 2005 rewritten 14 November 2006

robi03_1328_robi03_0000 XXX_CZX

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tapped or Trapped or Rapped?

The world, when wide, demanded empires vast.
Economies of scale appeared to be
uneven, and applied imperfectly,
as sound and fury buttressed ruling caste.
But times have changed, fresh horoscopes are cast,
Pluto downsized, Galileo, Copernicus, Vinci,
excommunicating Ptolemy.
This does not mean we’ve banished to the past
self-centered viewpoints, understood at last
small rhymes with beauty, ending poverty.
Newton, then Einstein, new technology
engendered, superstitions overcast.
One constant challenge cannot be bye-passed, -
Man’s nature alters slowly, ‘progress’ fast.

Man’s nature alters slowly, but Mankind
is t[r]apped within a spiral none control.
Few men pretend to understand the role
they’re meant to play, and ‘constantly’ we find
old infrastructures fissure. Though the mind
grows outwards while the race would race to bowl
all trace of old established tenets. Soul –
if soul there be – seems out at ‘see’, purblind
become, while standards must be redefined
against a background where, from pole to pole,
the sole remaining constant – change – no goal
dares guarantee, with ‘Change’ ‘Chance’ intertwined.
Interdisciplinary walls fall fast,
Past’s foundation bulwarks overcast.

12 December 1991 revised 12 October 2006

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I want to be with you always

I want to be with you always
That is what my heart says…

I want to be with you always
All the nights and all the days

I want to be with you always
Like the two eyes on your face.

I want to be with you always….
Be it devil’s curse or God’s grace

I want to be with you always
For you, no one can replace.

I want to be with you always….
In the warmth of your embrace

I want to be with you always…
As without you, I’m just a trace.

I want to be with you always
Like Hanuman Ji and his mace!

I want to be with you always
Be it fame or disgrace.

I want to be with you always…
Like a frock’s embroidered lace

I want to be with you always....
For you, from my life I cannot erase.

I want to be with you always
Be it life’s race or gentle pace

I want to be with you always
You are my world’s every place.

I want to be with you always
In my life’s cards, you are the Ace.

I want to be with you always....
Wherever I am, you fill that space.

I want to be with you always

Death, are you listening?
If you take him, take me
And let me rest my case.

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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It Is So Warm For Early In December

It is so warm for early in December the birds are panting and scarce a puff of breeze
And the tar is boiling on the sunlit roadway in temperatures of over thirty degrees
How come it's so warm this early on in Summer? we hear the scientists talk of the ozone hole
If this be true we have influenced the weather and the temperatures not beyond our control.

Some scientists claim it's due to man's pollution that we experience the weather extremes
The water now is down to a slow trickle in the polluted rivers, creeks and streams
Three weeks ago the low lying paddocks flooded the changes a few warm weeks can bring
And the farmers they are praying for rain already although we've had big rainfalls through the Spring

Each year the Summer temperatures keep rising and the warm weather goes into late Fall
And despite the first week of heavy rains the weather bureau
claim it's been the warmest November of them all
'Twould seem the coastal towns will do well for Christmas and traffic jams on the highway to the sea
And New Year's day will find them by the ocean the working man and his wife and family.

It is so warm for early in December and Summer days have only just begun
And people already wearing their sun hats and sun screens to keep away the cruel rays of the sun
And some scientists claim that the extremes of weather is or was never beyond our control
And that modern man who creates much pollution is responsible for the big ozone hole.

poem by Francis Duggan
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October Girl

I married an October girl
but met her in December's cold,
I remember well
that winter of our meeting
you could not say that it was swell
that frosty first time greeting.

I saw her a second time
October in the spring
when light shone from her face
and joined with my light within;
she blew a gentle breeze
with freshness in her haste
to meet again the man
who previously in December
she had not seemed
so keen to chase.

She blew into my life in spring
through summer and the fall
and swirled around the boughs
of my many outreaching branches,
until she bared me of all the leaves
I'd grown throughout my life
and pointed to the roots of me
that held me strong in strife.

October is a blustery girl
with many winds of change
sometimes with an angry squall
that bares wintered teeth
with lightening storms of rage,
but I never did meet a girl
with such a warm embrace.

I married that October girl
we married in the spring
and as I wait to see
what summer's breeze may bring
I know that October's girl
will shine her light within
as I soar up so very high
upon October's wind.

poem by David Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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? ...

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.

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

Do Re Mi

DO RE MI FA SO LA TI DO
anagram
DO I FORMALISE, DOAT?

Mind finds through magic interface
enchantment in soft smile whose grace
leaves senses reeling into space.
Form, face, inspires as, in disgrace,
Time disappears, and in its place
all doubts dissolved, we solve life’s chase.
Mingling, jingling, words may trace
cheer and charm which interlace
heart with heart, - no commonplace
encounter doubles pulse rate race.
It sudden seems, in any case,
prismatic colour tones replace
monochrome monochord most embrace

12 June 1997 revised 1 October 2005
robi03_0844_robi03_0000 SXX_LMX

For previous version see below
See also Musical Anagram Riddle
24 November 2006 revised 7 February 20090207 robi03_1511_robi03_0000 QSW_MXX
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
DO I FORMALISE, DOAT?
anagram
DO RE MI FA SO LA TI DO

Has music found fresh form and face
Enchanting in a smile whose grace
Leaves senses reeling into space?
Each note breathes light as, in disgrace,
Now Time departs, and in its place
Eternity all doubts does chase.
So, as a mirror, words here trace
Cheer whose charm may interlace
Heart with heart, - no commonplace
Magic doubles pulse rate race!
It sudden seems, in any case,
That rainbow colours may replace
The black and white our lives embrace!

12 June 1997

Poem © Jonathan Robin Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
MUSICAL ANAGRAM RIDDLE
N.B. For explanation see NOTES below

Do I Formalise, Doat?

I, don, review rare mind’s fair trace,
solar, timeless, doubts does chase.
Read miracle: fab sonnet’s lace
ties down, adopts real mine, faith’s solace.
Stirred, dodging dogma dire, smiles face
soft lines layered tight, rhyme’s dovetailed grace,
adore remix fast sown in place,
title docent. Don’t rest! - mid famed phrase
some laughter tickles, doubles pace,
dopes reason’s mission. Fate’s sound plays
still dole doat’s reel, might fan song lays.
Tired dodo screeds mime, false sots base
replace stitched verse, - dolts’ doggrel’s shown
remiss, fades soon, lasting dome unknown.

DO RE MI FA SO LA TI DO - Anagram of Do I Formalise, Doat?

24 June 2006 revised 7 February 2009
robi03_1511_robi03_0000 QSW_MXX

for previous version see below
See also Do Re Mi
12 June 1997 revised 1 October 2005
robi03_0844_robi03_0000 SXX_LMX
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Musical Anagram Riddle

Do I Formalise, Doat?

I doat on ready smile, fair grace,
solar, timeless, doubts does chase.
Real miracle, fate’s song I lace,
‘Tis door adored, might fancy solace,
stings doctor, dowse regrets minds face.
Soft language, tireless, dodges trace,
docile reminds facts somehow place
title down, don’t rest, misplace
fable so laughter tickles, doubles pace,
dons, unrevealed, a mirage space
fantastic sounding to replace
tired dodo wretched mish-mash, base,
false, sorry prose. Lake poet, ace,
tight dons – no dotard – styled embrace.

24 June 2006.

NOTES

DO RE MI FA SO LA TI DO –

Anagram of

Do I Formalise, Doat

Given different resolutions formatting has proved difficult therefore the letters that are not indispensable have been replaced by Xs

x DOx RExxxx xxx xMIxx, FAxx xxxxx,
SOLAx, TIxxxxxx, DOxxxx DOxx xxxxx.
RExx MIxxxxx, FAxs SOxxxxx LAxx,
TIxx DOxx xDOxxx RExx MIxxx FAxxx SOLAxx,
xTIxxxx DOxxxxx DOxxx xxRE xMIxxx FAxx.
SOxx xxxx LAxxxxx TIxxx xxxxx xxxxx,
xDOxxx REMIxxx FAxxx SOxxxxx xLAxx
TIxxx DOxx, DOx’x RExx, MIxxxxxx
FAxxx SO LAxxxxx TIxxxxx, DOxxxxx xxxx,
DOxx, xxRExxxxx, x MIxxxx xxxxx
FAxxxxxxx SOxxxxxx xx xxxLAxx
TIxxx DODO xRExxxxx MIxx-xxxx, xxxx,
FAxxx, SOxxx xxxxx. LAxx xxxx, xxx,
TIxxt, DOxxxtx, – xx DOxxxx – xxxxxx xxxxxxx.

Poem © Jonathan Robin 24 November 2006
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIII

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unique

Silk seconds string net spider-strong to weave
minute spun-sequence skeins which interlace
hours which in turn days turn to years that race
to knit an unknown fate. No need to grieve.
For from Life's cup joy stems which win reprieve
from Gods, grown jealous of the human race.
Cause and effect are manifest, - one face
coeval with charm eternal can receive
accolades none challenge, disbelieve.
Innate these qualities, where talent, grace,
integrate the skills that interface
potential never hitherto achieved.
All future generations must regret
They lived not now, - such gifts none shall forget!

Unique Spin initial version
Silk seconds string net spider-strong to weave
minute spun-sequence skeins which interlace
hours which in turn days turn to years times trace
to spin an unknown fate. No need to grieve.
For from Life's cup joy stems which win reprieve
from Gods, grown tired of pride's human face.
Cause and effect are manifest, - one race
coeval with eight spindle legs receive
accolades none challenge, disbelieve,
potential insects never could achieve.

(25 April 1990 revised 22 August 2006)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Human Nature Must

It is human nature to shed tears
Pain and agony make them to suffer and bear
Compel them to feel weary about present
Live in foolish world as if with mind so absent

The world is beyond that
We shape our destiny and fate
Something may come early or late
But maintain composure and repeatedly statue

Thre is no use if you cry in open
That may only worsen and reopen
Your past worries and stress
You will then be unable to face

Make the way out of race
Turn around and see in case
You may find world so enterprising
Many things may be there and suprising

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Incompleteness

Verse cannot completely trace
one fair reflection where the light
leaves an impression of such grace
that words, found wanting, seek insight
to reunite with spirit bright,
yet every line links to disgrace
when compared, when second sight
seeks to satisfy both pace
and sense of fitness which replace
the commonplace that must indict
the great part of the human race,
read here both truth and envy's spite.
Yet who'll, on reading this, believe
here's no intention to deceive?

(18 May 2005)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Preconcious

Man has life like a span of time
Rather than pulse and blood and breath
The magical psyche has a hole inside
Where the spatialization of time can abide

Metaphor me and analogue I
Grieve for the loss of Mycanae
Where the god-like race of hero-men
Lived without time or law to obey

Frenzied sybyls at the omphalos
These poets, the last of the nabium
Babbling and nabaing, chanting ghosts
Center of earth and the conciousness' rim

Not, imagining but experiencing the muse
The Muses babels unwearying flows
Daughter of Mnemosyne, to ruse
Before the budding memory rose

Conciousnesss thus memory thus guilt and remorse
The holes just a space to move around and trace
The hole in the pysche where time runs its course
Past Present and future establishing place

Metaphor me and Analogue I
Grieve for the loss of Mycaene
Where the god-like race of men
Lived without time or law to obey

poem by Barbara Hilal
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Thank The Higher Beings

With the technology we amassed from our space friends,
we have advanced communication that goes to the outer ends.
Why hasn’t the human race come this far in thousands of years?
We are like barbarians to other planets I do hear.
We are still killing each other in war,
we are can’t get leftover restaurant food to the poor.
But we can make bombs to kill the planet like never before.
Our priorities are messed up,
if the space people wanted to kill us
like the movies say,
they would of already had their way.
Written By Christina Sunrise on December 23,2011

www.christinasunrise.com www.suechevalier.com

poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn My Dear

I
Autumn my dear!
Thy winds are cool and sharp
And are mine to embrace
Even as I draw you near

I sniff the traditional odour
Of dead leaves and lavender...
Oh, how they have haunted me
Since late December;
That I wished it early October

II
Autumn my dear!
Orange by they favourite colour
To alleviate the people's fear
Of dying Summer,
Idyllic paradise,
That you have replaced
To my heart sprung joy
My Autumn, ever dearest,
I have waited ever long

III
Autumn my dear!
The harvest has been reaped,
And the leaves have long been scattered
From the trees your winds have shattered
The trees have since weeped,
As you drew near.

poem by Ryan C. Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Collective Chrysalis

Before tired tocsin tolls, notes final dawn
objections bowls to smithereens, blasts corn,
beauty need know no double face,
ambiguity's about-face.
Beholder and beholden lace
together love in love's embrace
each beat completes sweet other's pace.

Be forward, ward off wardens, trough or storm,
accounts drawn, love withdrawn or jealous scorn.
Base all on sharing, never base,
replace conformist time and place
with acceptance and erase
all pettiness too commonplace
that mars, that bars true state of grace.

Before last keynote speech leaves pages torn,
reach out, life's rose shows scent's well worth time's thorn.
There's neither chaser, chaste disgraced,
comparisons to draw, changed taste.
Fulfillment never runs to waste.
Collective chrysalis encased
in love's state states case for fresh trace.

for previous version entitled Lids Can Open 20050322 see below

Lids Can Open
After midnight tolls, before the dawn
insight objections bowls, won't be foresworn
beauty knows no double face
beholder and beholden trace
together love in love's embrace
where each heart charts the other's pace.
Drop keynote speech, leave pages torn,
reach out, out reach, rose needs no thorn,
there is no chaser and no chase
there's no disgrace but only grace
and one shared chrysalid in case
the lid can open, fears erase.

(30 December 2008)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rethink in progress for M 'lady Mamta

Rethink in progress.

The empty skies are echoing. There are no song birds left to sing.
There are no trees there is no grass. What was foretold has come to pass.
The world is dead and desolate. Mankind did not appreciate
the need for conservation. He practiced exploitation.
Although resources were finite. Mankind thought they had the right
to freely use all they could find and paid the future little mind.
Some realised but far too late what was to be their future fate
When all resources had been used but sadly most point blank refused.
To change their foolish wasteful ways, Thought new resources would replace.
What they consumed without a care and stripped the earth completely bare.
The race of man has now died out.The earth is better off without.
The race of greedy parasites who could not curb their appetites.
A self inflicted genocide: Mankind committed suicide.
The earth lies fallow now to rest because Gaia thinks it’s best
But in due course she’ll try again. With a new race to replace men.
We were a bold experiment which did not work as it was meant.

Wednesday,24 February 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Sanctity...? ...

T he dawn is part of pattern webs which spin
O ut from the past and not from future fate,
A nd may Time mime, itself anticipate?
C an far horizons scan the span within?
T he wind won’t carry inkling whispers in
O pen echo unfurled in single trait.
R esponse to whom? to what? When? Early? Late?
N ew strength unveiled, by star signs sent to bait
O ne Cause or one Effect, - to end? begin?
T he story feeds from song or need to sing?
O ne’s need to heed the lied, lead on, create
U rgent vistas which can compensate
DRE aded hole inside inside’s dammed spring,
AMA zing grace to help face everything?

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Polyacrostic - A Final Act I Play... and Yet

A FINAL ACT I PLAY... AND YET
ALL FADES INTO NOTHINGNESS AT LAST,
FADES fast, flame flame attracts, itself devours.
INTO Time’s vacuum hours suction hour –
NOTHINGNESS: the frame for fame when Past
AT journey’s end the Future meets to cast
LAST dies with Fate – which late or early sours.
ASHES CHILLING TIME’S IMMORTAL POWERS:
CHILLING bigot, priest, iconoclast.
TIME’S melting pot’s a plumbless well, repast
IMMORTAL, tasteless still, which overpowers
POWERS of perception, leaves life’s flowers
LOST and blighted ‘neath the blast, soon passed.
AND yet Youth’s fountain springs, denies ‘too late’.
YET Hope fears’ dupes would prove, Love knows no date!

polyacrostic sonnet 21 November 1991

robi03_0486_robi03_0000 BSX_DKZ

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Late

The time has come for harvesting.
Long overdue; we are too late.
The human race is flourishing
they have discovered how to hate.

Warlike and belligerent.
They’re not the docile race we knew
By some genetic accident.
The human race evolved into

a race of high intelligence.
Which has advanced technologies
We daren’t deny the evidence
which is presented to our eyes.

Therefore we must tread carefully
they will not fear us any more.
They’ll look on us suspiciously
Not simply worship and adore.

As they had been conditioned to
when first we landed on this star
They saw us as their guardians
come to protect them from afar.

The fools accepted us as gods
to whom they must make sacrifice.
Now time has evened up the odds
we can not hope to fool them twice.

We should just leave. It would be wise.
erase all traces we have been.
Except for racial memories
we have no way of wiping clean.

I am afraid I must confess
of what the human race might do.
The rate at which they can progress
there seems to be no limit to.

Should they suspect that we exist
They will not rest until they know
and with research they will persist.
They simply will not let it go.

Though once they were inferior
I think they are our equals now
and will become superior.
If the laws of fate allow.

Our race grows old and decadent
Perhaps its time to leave the stage.
It seems to me quite apparent
the human race will now engage.

In doing what we used to do
Exploiting every race they find
because they feel entitled to
again like us they will be blind.

To the potentiality
which younger races might possess
in pursuit of their destiny.
The speed at which they make progress.

We’ve had our season in the sun
the human race will have theirs too.
It has been so since time begun
the old must give way to the new.

2-Jul-07

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Cleansed

CLEANSED

Love cleansed today dreams interplay
complete, spoon, fork and knife,
derides dismay, lined cares which prey
upon brief Beauty’s life.

From disarray love’s here to stay,
towards joy’s light may trace
convincing way, chase cares which weigh
down those who change fear face.

Keep open door, no bad blood pour,
tomorrows true touch base,
hope sets fair score where scope’s shared core
united future grace.

Concord and cheer won’t disappear
when feelings interface
with someone near, who clear will hear
heart, comfort, share embrace.

Thus, change of gear, dissolve false fear,
it seems in any case
enchantment here may re-appear,
admit acceptance, space.

Life’s new frontier in this New Year
lost voice shall now replace,
from drear nights’ wear to fresh light steer,
heartease naught may displace.

22 March 2005 significantly rewritten 30 December 2008
robi03_1102_robi03_0000 XXX_KLX

for previous version entitled Love’s Future Fare see below

Love’s Future Fare

Love yesterday seemed interplay
complete, spoon, fork and knife
that scorned dismay, false on fears does prey
to threaten Beauty’s life.

But try today to feel a way
towards the light don’t trace
heart’s disarray, the fears which weigh,
the weary tears, disgrace.

Don’t close white door let blood red poor
with future fair touch base!
if traitor’s core is known before
tomorrow you may face.

When drugs and beer both disappear
soon feelings interface
with someone near, who clear will hear
heart, comfort and embrace.

So, change of gear, dissolve false fear,
it seems in any case
resentment here needs disappear,
leave hope for scope and space.

Life new frontier will find, my Dear,
Death’s shadow shall replace,
all nights austere to fresh light steer
there’s other fish to chase!

22 March 2005

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Sane seems insane

Related quotes

Channels

Tapped or Trapped or Rapped?

I want to be with you always

It Is So Warm For Early In December

October Girl

Ambiguity Arose - after Rose Aylmer Walter Savage LANDOR

Do Re Mi

Unique

Human Nature Must

7th Channel

Incompleteness

Preconcious

Thank The Higher Beings

Autumn My Dear

Collective Chrysalis

Rethink in progress for M 'lady Mamta

What Sanctity...? ...

Polyacrostic - A Final Act I Play... and Yet

Too Late

Cleansed

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Sane seems insane

Related quotes

Channels

Tapped or Trapped or Rapped?

I want to be with you always

It Is So Warm For Early In December

October Girl

Ambiguity Arose - after Rose Aylmer Walter Savage LANDOR

Do Re Mi

Unique

Human Nature Must

7th Channel

Incompleteness

Preconcious

Thank The Higher Beings

Autumn My Dear

Collective Chrysalis

Rethink in progress for M 'lady Mamta

What Sanctity...? ...

Polyacrostic - A Final Act I Play... and Yet

Too Late

Cleansed

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