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
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bubble Bray - 0822 - Current Version
Time's muzzle mocks ambitions. Day by day,
through life's incessant dream theme ebb and flow,
efforts, unrewarded, seem vain show.
Effects' and causes' subtle interplay
none may control, - coincidence at play
enacts a chance dance time mime stop and go
whose pattern frame spins into vertigo
flaking dates and energy away.
Harmony and Chance Time's tides obey,
cannot be reined, restrained, nor string nor bow
fires through some causal bull's eye to echo
sense sustained. Profane, with bubble bray,
most blow hot, cold on stage, then sink unheard
before they even feel flow's ripples stirred.
(9 April 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Dance with Me in The Key of Life
Holding the strings of vibes
We move to dance of life
When I look I see your essence
In space now empty
Quiet where the shout of whisper
Voice unheard in heart beats
Come here and dance
Hear the song of my mind
Dance to my beat in life
Let me hold you close to me
I feel my song is you
I want to sing you play to you
My beautiful song you be
Let me turn you
In step with my life
Move with me to music of life
Dance to pain of life
To joy of reality
The song for us to dance
Your moans of pleasure
Move me to love you
I now want to dance with you
Our finger touch our lip meet
Kissing to beats of jazz before
The blue come down on my soul
On I am coming to be true
To need what you be for me
Let just dance to our song
What the matter I’m the same as
Before your beats is my beat
Come dance with me come need me
I wait for you to know
I am for you only
Dance come dance your story with me
Move to life up and down
Dance with me I need you to dance
The dance of life in song of love
poem by George Jerone Jefferson
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Dance Party
Come on everyone
Let's go
It' time for a
Dance Party
Turn that music up loud as loud you want
I wanna dance all night until my feet get tired
I don't want this night to end
This is time of my life to get away
From my problems and people I don't want to see
I just want to have fun
Its best way to make me feel so relief
Keep party going
Dance Party
Yeaaaaa
Let get crazy and have great time
Don't stop the music
Bust your move
Don't stop the music
Show people the side
You never show before
They be amazed
Have fun and eat with your friends
Don't be shy
What is point if you go there if you don't have fun
You might make new friends
I want DJ to play my songs
So I can dance all night until my feet get tired
Come on everyone dance
Dance party
poem by Christina Phan
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A Bubble In My Heart...!
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that floats
Like it is made out of soap
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that dance
Like it is riding on the breeze
A bubble a bubble in my heart
A bubble a bubble that fills my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that sings
Like it knows how to sing
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that roams
Out of my heart in to the storms
A bubble a bubble in my heart
A bubble a bubble that fills my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
Baby can you see that
Yeah the bubble in my heart
There's a bubble in my heart
A bubble that shines
Much more than sunshine
A bubble a bubble in my heart
Yeah baby, there is a bubble, a bubble in my heart....!
poem by Rowving Smith
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Harmony (From" Harmony")
Harmony
Unforgettable harmony
Harmony
First there was harmony
And there was rhyme
This was our time
Harmony
Did we have harmony
And that's just about all we had!
Suddenly
A little harmony
And the poverty's not so bad
Thin, we were
Poor as sin in berlin, we were!
Patches on our pants
Mercif'lly, when you're in harmony
You're in a trance
Others went marching
Not us, we'd dance
No one in grodnogubernia
Ever learned to dance like this!
Spoken:
(Believe it or not I was a rabbi before all this started!
In grodnogubernia yet!)
If you're in grodnogubernia
Tell em', this you shouldn't miss!
Harmony
All arm in arm were we
Well, except when the punches flew
Squabbles, sure
But squabbles don't endure
When there's harmony in the brew
Then did we
Oh, so splendidly blend, did we
Like a spell had come
It was clear
My pals and I could hear
A different drum
Outside they hollered!
But we hadharmony!
In this joint
All encounters with counterpoint
End in harmony
And it's clear
No man's a solo here
Not even me
No solo mio!
No we've got harmony!
When we've got harmony
Then just maybe we've got a chance
Harmony, the best is harmony!
And the rest is a song and dance!
Where you find
You're in harmony
There you find
Shelter in a storm
Every note
A button on the coat
That keeps you warm
Stars have the heavens
But we've got harmony!
Harmony!
Harmony!
Harmony!
Troubles disappear
And what you feel is what you hear
Not what you see!
Yes, first there was
Harmony!
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Interlude narrative verse for M lady Ernestine
The silent cello waits in vain.
Her owner can no longer play,
her twisted joints in so much pain
Arthritis has now won the day.
Those hands which once caressed the strings
are gnarled and twisted dreadfully
Though in her mind the cello sings,
its silent in reality.
The music stored within its soul
longs for release impatiently.
Its destiny to play a role
assisting some child prodigy.
The owner cannot bear to part
with her treasured instrument.
She holds a dream deep in her heart.
Some one will come who’s one intent
to learn to play the cello well.
Prepared to suffer for their art,
beglamoured by the subtle spell
this cherished cello can impart.
Her children show no interest,
no musical ability.
Perhaps, she thinks it’s for the best
The cello waits impatiently.
One day her grandchild comes to call
A pretty child who’s not yet five.
She exhibits no fear at all
her fingers bring the strings alive.
The cello knows this is the one.
The child it has been waiting for.
and grandma knows she has passed on.
The love she felt so long before.
Before she learnt to play a note.
She knew it was her destiny
that music was the antidote
to soothe her sensitivity..
The chills is lost in wonderment
and strokes the cello lovingly.
This could not be an accident.
It was her grandma’s legacy.
She seemed to know instinctively
Just as her grandmother had done
That music was her destiny.
The cello knew that it had won
In course of time the girl surpassed
The skill her grandma had possessed.
It was the spell the cello cast
She always said that made her best.
When grandma died she died content
Her well loved cello sang again.
Now her grand daughter’s instrument
Their patient wait was not in vain..
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Music Is My Life
Music is my life, music is the key
Cause the rhythm's gonna get me, music takes me higher
Music is my life, music is the key
You're my first, you're my last, you are burning like a fire
Nananananananana, nananananana
Nananananananana, let's sing together
Say go, say when, say now, say hit-it,
Ready to rumble dance here we go
So, going up and down round and round on and on
Yo - how to throw a pair of dice
Be hot, be cool, be cold as ice
This is the time you better don't think twice
Be nice, emergency
Go mad, go wild, go nasty, go free
Like a maniac, you're feeling wild with me
Ringdingdong ringadinga ding dong
In a seventies style, it's a bobo song
Time for the old school, play that track
Mister deejay - bring the beat back, bring it back
Place is packed, so many different people
All ages and races, sweet faces
Come from different places
Get on the floor you better dance tonight, music is my life
Five, four, three, two, one here we go,
Get dressed get going it's time for the show
Now tonight is the night we're dancing you know
How - how to dive in the sea of sounds
Right place, right time, right moment, right spot
Everybody in the place feel hot and dance
Wiggle around you better take this chance
Feel free, feel wild, feel crazy, feel young
Like kids are playing, have some fun
Everyday like a playball, everybody party all
Day no work, I'll play, okay, hooray, summer holiday
Dance to the beat of the street
Where the heat is on, till the break of dawn
We gonna moove on strong - sing this song
Everybody in the place enjoy the party, music is my life
It's a new generation
Without hate and frustration
Promised land, promised nation
Without pain, without control
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take One More Chance
Ooh, I dont understand,
In this crazy world we live in,
Just look around, is it true?
No one gives a damn.
Trapped in a world of illusion,
Is it too late for us, ooh?
Baby, well never know why were stranded here,
Lost in this crowded room,
I noticed you the minute you came into view.
But youre so hard to me,
Oh, why do I care for you so?
I never ever doubt, my love,
The time is oh so right for love.
Take one more chance, this is the last dance.
Take one more chance, this is the last romance.
I dont understand,
Been avoiding me all evening.
Each time I looked you just dance,
Again on the floor.
Like life itself had no meaning.
If I could touch you,
But oohooh, deep in my heart I know,
Theres a destiny,
Through all this sadness I see.
Its not too late to change, my love,
Tonight the stars are made for love.
Take one more chance, this is the last dance.
Take one more chance, this is the last romance.
[one more chance] take one more glance and give our life a chance.
[one more chance] take one more glance and give our life a chance.
[one more chance] take one more chance, this is the last dance.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As long as its music
Please play me a symphony
Make a simple cheerful harmony
Please play me a chord from a guitar
For me, it does not matter
If I’m the only audience of your theatre
Give me some instrumental vibes
All rhythms and tunes are musically ripe
There is no need to take precaution
While playing the Banjo or flamenco percussion
As long as its music
We can all heal
As long as its music
We can all feel
We can sing out our hearts and soul
We can let this music take control
Please play me the drums
We can sing or we can hum
Please play me a CD or a hit record
We could sing to the tunes of an ipod
With the sounds of music we can compose a song
Maybe sing to the town’s bells chiming ding-dong
Please play me the sweet keys of a piano
Hit a sweet note that is a major or minor
As long as its music
We can all heal or cry
As long as its music
We can all feel or fly high
And I will be lost in your voice and eyes
Holding on to each minute that flies
Whatever sounds or instruments
I shall feel good in the moment
Please play me a note from a flute
Those peaceful sounds tend to soothe
I want to hear sweet, sweet music
Choose your lyrics, take your pick
My heart will dance, till she is weak
Get out that guitar, acoustic or electric
Please play me the violins of an orchestra night
String me some melodies in broad daylight
And we can rap to melodious sense or crap
While our feet’s playfully tap, tap and tap
As long as its music
We can dance along the shore
As long as its music
We can all take to the dance floor
And I say once more, once more!
As long as its music, I will only ask for more
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Test For Echo
Words by neil peart and pye dubois,
Music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Here we go --- vertigo
Video vertigo
Test for echo
Here we go --- in slo-mo
Video vertigo
Test for echo
Some kind of trouble on the sensory screen
Camera curves over caved-in cop cars
Bleacher-creatures, would-be desperados
Clutch at plausible deniability
Dont touch that dial ---
Were in denial
Until the showcase trial on tv
Some kind of pictures on the sense oclock news
Miles of yellow tape --- silhouetted chalklines
Tough-talking hood boys in pro-team logo knock-offs
Conform to uniforms of some corporate entity
Dont change that station
Its gangster nation
Now crimes in syndication on tv
What a show --- vertigo
Video vertigo
Test for echo
Touch and go -- in slo-mo
Video vertigo
Test for echo
Some kind of drama live on satellite
Hidden camera coverage from the crime scene to the courtroom
Nail-biting hood boys in borrowed ties and jackets
Clutching at the straws of respectability
Cant do the time?
Dont do the crime
And wind up in the perp walk on tv
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll teach you how to dance with me
Dance with me
My lovely rose
For today is my last chance
Dance for me
And swing me far
I'll never be coming back
And watch as the floor turns
And the people blur all out
And the dance floor turns out empty
With just me and my lovely rose
Push your heart to the limit
And as your breath begins to fade
Remember to push harder
For today is my last chance
I'm showing you to dance
To dance without a floor
To dance with just my words
Trust me, its the only way to dance
Take my hands
They'll guide you
Trust me
Don't lead
Take my love
It'll show you
The way
Don't look
Take my hips
They'll sway for you
And walk
Don't move
Take my breath
It'll give you
More strength
Don't breathe
Now, Take the dance
And go with it
For today is my last chance.
Harmonious Triolet
Who’d flow through harmony no rage
should know, nor need safe haven seek,
no anger [l]inking daily page.
Who’d flow through harmony no rage
should breed, enroll, fear soul in cage,
should heedless channel tension’s [s]peak.
Who’d flow through harmony no rage
should know, nor need safe haven seek.
(20 June 2006)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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After the Carnival
AFTER THE CARNIVAL
The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way,
clowned senseless as an ass’s bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.
.
Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there’s no energy to pray.
.
Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.
.
That one’s posterity will stay
when life’s departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over, May
to Winter bows, Spring may not stay -
its darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.
4 November 1992 revised 21 May 2005 and 29 December 2010
robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
see Après la Fête robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
Après la Fête
Life's Carnival swift sinks soon drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain,
clowns stride stage, pine, pain, soon lie slain.
.
Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures’ knives -
which often with ‘success’ connive.
.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain’s then proved vain
when gain proves dross, and loss insane.
.
Dunce bee, once drawn to wicket flame,
no curtain call can still sustain, -
another worker t[r]icked from hive
which will remain no less alive…
13 October 1988 revised 29 April 2005 and 29 December 2010
robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
For previous version see below and After the Carnival robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
AFTER THE CARNIVAL
The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way
as senseless as an ass’s bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.
Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there’s no energy to pray.
Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.
That one’s posterity will stay
when life’s departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over. May
to Winter bows, Spring shall not stay, -
the darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.
4 November 1992 revised 21 May 2005
robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
see Après la Fête robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
Après la Fête
The Carnival is over. Drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain.
Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures’ knives -
which often with ‘success’ connive.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain’s then proved vain.
Dunce bee, once drawn to wicket flame,
no curtain call can long sustain, -
another worker t[r]icked from hive
which will remain no less alive…
13 October 1988 revised 29 April 2005
robi03_0228_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
For previous version see below and After the Carnival robi03_0638_robi03_0000 XXX_DZX
n.b. wicket, wicked wick et (and in French)
Après la Fête
The Carnival is over. Drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
what once was certain now seems vain.
Another worker leaves the hive,
which is, itself, no less alive.
13 October 1988
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence Of God Does Not Imply His Absence!
Can tree survive without sunlight,
It can send its roots down,
Can absorb water and minerals,
Yet that energy it has receive as grace
Air is around it, not seen,
its effect and necessity felt!
God around and within like air,
Or that strange flow of energy,
That flows through cells,
That brilliance of knowledge unknown,
God can't be an object of senses,
God is the one who drives them,
God is Not in objects with forms,
The formless behind all forms,
Neither an animal, nor animated,
Yet animate all forms,
God has no space to move,
As he fills every forms,
Fills universe and beyond,
God is Not felt, his effects can be,
As lightwaves, or matterwaves,
As fundamental particles,
Without mass or charge,
Smaller than photon, smaller than God_particle,
Subtle of subtle, friend of all,
All are his forms,
the forms breath the formless!
God is that beauty, may be Himalayan ice,
Flow of river, cooling wind, or may be Love,
in a beautiful heart he dwell!
How can one separate God from all forms,
Can Heartless man live,
But he is Not heartless,
But only deaf and blind,
to music of musings of his own heart!
Man can't bear a little pain,
A little insult, little failure in his experiments,
But God bears every thing,
Ever cool he was,
when his experiments
failed,
Dinosaurs appeared, simply cleaned his lab,
Started experiment with a new!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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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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Prepare Each Day - Daughter of Hope
D ay warms to day, to night dark night succeeds,
A nd strings the Present as a row of beads
U pon Time’s rosary. The Future feeds,
G athers life’s leaves, by instinct led, or chance, -
H ere crops a leaf, another lets advance,
T here leaves alone, preparing renaissance.
E xistence swings upon a string. Hope breeds
R esponse entrusting tide which won’t recede
O r stagnant stale. We should evolve as reeds
F or whom the gales of life, each happenstance,
H old meaning but no menace, may enhance
O ur sense of being part of Life’s full dance.
Prepare each day, play role repair which brings
Enlightenment whose harmony rhyme sings...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Rescue me
I feel you the energy, when your next to me and I know that were not meant to be.
But I can feel you in my heart and I can feel you in my soul and when you play the music you make lose control
There was a time you set me free but I need you to rescue me.
Rescue me, show me the way loves supposed to be
Rescue me...
Now you think that someone new is loving me? But I need you to rescue me.
I feel you in heart my heart I feel you in my soul and when you play the music you make me lose control.
There was time you sent me free, but I need you to rescue me........
poem by Sita Cabrera
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After the Carnival - Apres la Fete
The carnival of carefree play
too long has tripped its careless way,
clowned senseless as an ass's bray
while flesh from flesh Time stripped away.
Once sun strong shone, when one made hay
cicada-like, would spend the day
in hasting-wasting, - led astray
by vain beliefs the day to pay
would never come. But hopes decay,
the ostrich-innings stumped. Today,
momentum lost, depressed dismay
notes there's no energy to pray.
Illusions fade, blue skies turn grey,
what once seemed certain from life's fray
has dropped defeated, options fray.
Careless of creed, one must obey
dread summons which to night turns day.
That one's posterity will stay
when life's departed holds at bay
a sense of impotence and may
part justify the role to play.
The carnival is over, May
to Winter bows, Spring may not stay -
its darling buds in blossom, gay,
tomorrow must return to clay.
For previous version revised 21 May 2005 see below
Life's Carnival swift sinks soon drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to life's ground rules lain,
clowns stride stage, pine, pain, soon lie slain.
Though some may for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures' knives -
which often with ‘success' connive.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain's then proved vain
when gain proves dross, and loss insane.
Dunce bee, once drawn to wicket flame,
no curtain call can still sustain, -
another worker t[r]icked from hive
which will remain no less alive.
For previous version revised 29 April 2005 see below
The Carnival is over. Drive,
ambitions fail. What sense to strive
when dregs alone remain to drain
before forgetfulness stakes claim.
Who have the strength to goals attain
with principles intact remain
exceptions to the ground rules lain.
Although some for a time contrive
to fool themselves, they steeper dive
when time in pawn takes pawn alive,
soon sacrificed to failures' knives -
which often with ‘success' connive.
Illusions lost, we find with pain,
are seldom truly gained again -
what once seemed certain's then proved vain.
Bee, moth, attracted to wick'd flame,
no curtain call will long retain,
another worker ticked from hive
which still remains no less alive.
(29 December 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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