Synaptic Dream Scrabble Stash
Dreams bring string themes for thoughts caught in blind flash,
Enchantment, nightmare fears, beyond time's veil.
Much past, some present, future fair or fail,
Links stored sub-surface in synaptic stash.
Insight's flights can scan creation. Clash!
World wakes! swirled search unslaked - there lies a tale
Of fairies, dragons, daily purchase, sale
Refused, approved, in limbo, mind's cache
Seeks sleeps return to peep through truth's mish-mash,
Advice clear seeking, films night's neuron mail.
New facettes, gleaming, stream subconscious scale
Gleaned from imagination's brain-wave splash.
Dreamplay transforms day's greys to rainbow sash
Evaporating empty phantoms pale,
Multi-coloured visions never stale,
Leaves boring chores here for adventures brash,
Ideal idyll there, to cut a dash
While speeding spirit fills dreamboat's full sail
On open ocean offering hope's grail
Real scope, feels grace denying daily lash,
Speed-reads between life-lines, shu[n]ts cut and slash
Away as contradictions fade or flail.
Now spring prevails, mocks fixed rails, founds fresh trail
Gains momentum, phoenix flies from embers, ash.
Word worlds scrabbled whirl unscrambled rehash
Once hidden memories as dreams exhale
Revived ambitions, aims released on bail,
Deep sleep follows lost primaeval tracks
Greeting hidden relevations, packs
A universe no censorship can gaol,
Moves mountains, fountains frees, sees each detail,
Egged on unyoked as Ahab white whale tracks.
So phases paradoxical sleeps stacks
Novel treasured pleasure meaured by mind's cracks
Invites insight into both fiction, facts,
Laces sing-song sense up hill down dale.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Acceptance Dance
She stands on river's brink to think
of future fair ahead,
holds hands with wonder's link to ink
all hope her heart has said.
She dreams beyond the veil this tale
to share where all mundane
may shed away, hope's gleam won't fail
to soothe away past pain.
She sways below the mountain high
to rhythms heart may start
to startle into starlit sky
from hibernation, chart
the way to interplay which may
anticipations meet,
where each day's reach may break away
from cares, and, sharing, greet
dreams blessed as fears fade, laid to rest,
metamorphosis wished -
renewed is zest, heart's treasure chest
unlocked, unblocked, relished.
She leans into the breeze and sees
fresh opportunities
where Love love frees to please, to tease,
to seize beyond the seas
Joy where she understands all lands
by rainbow bridge are spanned,
as mountain lies at peace with skies
where providence joins hands
with laughter, light, by day, by night,
by insight spurred to fly
on wings of white to true delight -
acceptance seeks no 'Why? '...
3 September 2007
robi03_1678_robi03_0000 XXX_LXX
Acceptance Dance poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Can Colour claim to read between the Lines? - 0732 - Current Version
Can colour claim to read between the lines
And paint fey portrait of each secret smile?
Nuances noting, can it reconcile
Chance extrapolations, sundry signs
Of the mind's ambitions, the designs
Link-locked within a bandwidth waves's confines,
Open doors, which, hidden seem to guide
Unexpected steps to answers bona fide.
Response and recognition each defines
Coded motives which tastes rainbow's shines
Laser beams of truth which will abide:
An insight into what occurs inside.
If from truth's spectrum something's infra re[a]d,
Much ultra may be drawn for years ahead.
The years ahead flagged by those tagged before
Offer opportunities to grow
Responding to Fate's multi-coloured flow,
Effects' and causes' waft weft spinning sure
Awarding here, withdrawing there, from core
Design to sign unstinting glow.
Between bright rainbow's light cones, rods, below
Explicit consciousness interpret, store
Tressed sense impressions which synapses store
With care to blend fair beauty, scare rare foe,
Enchantment share where wonders fast or slow
ENtwine mind's heady wine with wonders more.
THEme dreams teem, spin, in rainbow's coloured bands,
LINES, walls, dissolve, beams team true hands to hands.
(18 June 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Thoughtwave Ode Meditation Light
Thinklings, winking, pattern energy
Here, there, there, here, no difference need make
Open, closed, or circular they stake
Unique claim with a time frame we
Grock into when it suits, or elsewhere flee.
How cycles spin? Mistakes repeat mistake
To twin with hidden truth asleep-awake
Which bide their time yet still abide, still see
A fractal fraction of eternity,
Vista vision appetites may slake,
Ends turn beginnings after double-take
Or give and take to catalyze to be.
Duet well met by moonlight, dawn is seen,
Each being all, all each, and in between
Magic glade where sunlight slants today
Enchants the inner eye's kaleidoscope,
Drives thoughts from thoughts to thoughts, expanding scope
In resonance with radiant display
That echoes through the intellect to play
A rune tune which reflects reflections Hope
Transforms from bud, bark, bowl, grass, leaf, to dope
Ideas, fears put to flight, as interplay
Opens, takes cue from Nature Fey,
New ground explores, doors opens, helps all cope.
LInks to synaptic tracks from verdant slope
Garner insight rich which, on the way,
Heal pollution in all senses, sends
The signal sought that all confusion ends.
Moonshine madness or an open book
imprinted with key code of cause, expect?
Rainbow skeins need braiding to effect
Real interactions earning second look.
Open anticipation's neurone hook
Reels waft and weft combines, twines, intersects.
New energies spontaneous, direct,
Effectoive focus finds, sheds gobbledygook
Unwinds conventions staid, that overlook
Real essentials, conflicts few correct.
One filter chaff from grain, detects defects
Nonsense, lies ife's books too often cooks.
Ideals respec, spurn rules' blind lines to find
Creative font retaining open mind.
(10 July 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sundog Cataract
What seems sundog high by spry cataract
deserves a deeper look. Another light
reveals imagination's flow intact
Speed current echoes time's trip, clouds take flight
Waterfalls with dreams may interact
catalyze sense streams to spring insight
stimulate synaptic leaps spray backed
enhancing surf spill spells, responses bright
show space where cataract wraith-wracked
blinded with self-denial dark. Winged white
eddies fantastic, swirl-whirl, fears backtracked
ring confidence to share, bring twinned delight
Time riffles rift, strange spume fast sprays, gifts room
Rhyme ripples swift, change dooms past's plays, lifts gloom
10 September 2011
From Cataract to Enhanced Perceptions through Cataract
Acrostic Maude Corrieras
May what to some sunset on cataract
Appears at first sight, seen in other light
Unveils anticipation not the act
Draws sunrise, current's flow, woe's clouds in flight.
Each waterfall dreams stimulates, intact
Catalyzes stream sense, springs insight.
One's neverneverland? Blend nuance backed?
Revealed enchantment spills surf's answers bright
Revealing zones where mist before seemed wracked
In doubt and self-denial. Surf's wings white,
Eddies fantastical, swirl-whirl fears backtracked,
Ripple confidence, key shared delight.
Answers riffle home, fresh foam may flow
Splicing known once sown with what tomorrows show
poem by Jonathan Robin
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From Cataract to Enhanced Perceptions through Cataract
May what to some sunset on cataract
Appears at first sight, seen in other light
Unveils anticipation not the act -
Draws sunrise, current's flow, woe's clouds in flight.
Each waterfall dreams stimulates, intact
Catalyzes stream sense, springs insight.
One's neverneverland? Blend nuance backed?
Revealed enchantment spills surf's answers bright
Revealing zones where mist before seemed wracked
In doubt and self-denial. Surf's wings white,
Eddies fantastical, swirl-whirl fears backtracked,
Ripple confidence, key shared delight.
Answers riffle home, fresh foam may flow
Splicing known once sown with what tomorrows show...
From Cataract to Enhanced Perceptions through Cataract
Acrostic Maude Corrieras
7 September 2009
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
see variation written 10 September 2011
Sundog Cataract
What seems sundog high by spry cataract
deserves a deeper look. Another light
reveals imagination's flow intact.
Speed current echoes time's trip, clouds take flight.
Waterfalls with dreams may interact,
catalyze sense streams to spring insight,
stimulate synaptic leaps spray backed,
enhancing surf spill spells, responses bright,
show space where cataract wraith-wracked
blinded with self-denial dark. Winged white
eddies fantastic, swirl-whirl, fears backtracked,
ring confidence to share, bring twinned delight.
Time riffles rift, strange spume fast sprays, gifts room,
Rhyme ripples swift, change dooms past's plays, lifts gloom.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Tracks Of My Life
The tracks I leave behind are hidden
for future generations to find.
Hidden within a facade of words
that sprout up like new shoots
from this mind of mine.
My life is there for all to see,
the triumphs and the failures
against adversity.
The happiness and sadness
that plagues our daily lives,
the joyful tears and the sorrows pain.
They are all spelt out
within the words I write.
A little bit of me
inherits everything I do.
Therefore, if you read between the lines
you will find them there
all the tracks I leave behind.
poem by David Harris
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Awakening for Seasons
Alarm call signal beeps, wakes life to hope.
While vague, untidy heap stirs, seeking soap.
Above white sheets eyes peep – ‘collide a scope’
Knaps excerpt from sleep's waves, attempts to cope
Extracts dream-echoes deep which telescope
Nano half-lives, fragile figments elope.
Isolated fragments salmon-surface grope
Now mid the mind’s adjustments, knot loose rope,
Glimpse anchors dreams yet keeps thoughts in their scope.
Flashes snow sheep show, recounted hope
Of t[r]apping spring of sleep... dream’s periscope.
Rise above life's challenge slope!
SEA-change awaits as crocus, once snowbound,
SONg sings which trees decks green, gifts green to ground.
7 December 1991 revised 12 April 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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And Yet You Sing - 0246 - 2009 Version
Is pure voice stilled, vast vision spilled despite
heart's hidden beauty? Hesitant, soothing sting,
stumbling, humble hand sends offering
to show true scope, not stillborn, dimmed delight.
Symphony should spirit sweep, cleave tight,
touch friendship's tendrils, letting loose wound spring
to free the wealth of tenderness within.
Forswear forebodings for swift arrow's flight,
aim feathered well, no longer's doomed to fail.
Why should stored Future pale before sore Past,
feelings forlorn, torn, gusted by ghost gale?
Beyond the pale, once outcast, heart beats fast.
And yet you sing so sweetly, song hope deems
may turn new leaf, spurn grief, to answer dreams.
(30 April 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Treasure Hunt
I've been around the world in my mind
Seeking treasures I did not find;
Chasing the rainbow on an endless trail
Just like a puppy chasing it's tail.
To the depths of the great blue sea
Seeking that which was hidden from me;
Just what is it I'm looking for?
When I find it, will I still want more?
What will fill my every need,
Turn my mind from ravenous greed;
What will satisfy my hunt for treasure?
What will overflow my life with pleasure?
Time flies by as I grow old
Still looking for that pot of gold,
Never once stopping to realize
It was always there before my eyes
A well marked trail in the form of a cross
Leading to treasures that will never be lost;
No sorrow, no greed, an endless life of pleasure,
The end of the rainbow with heavenly treasure.
poem by Ronald E. Blacklock
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Fresh Dimensions
Magic passion lifts aloft life’s song,
as love's light flexes butterfly-bright wings,
unchains hope's scope, reclaims aims' heartfelt rings,
dreams forward stream, finds feelings fair and strong.
Enigmas are resolved - false right, true wrong -
curb rash rush to judgement, insight brings
on innate understanding, softly sings
revealing fresh dimensions where “belong”
real empathy may entertain, prolong.
Invite proactive flight free from kite strings,
exile Time’s agression, salve past stings -
response sees through all torture-mirage tongs
attains new plane where each from each learns much,
spins sentiments meant to enhance shared touch.
10 June 2006 revised 18 May 2008 for previous version see below
Breathless passion lifts aloft life’s song,
Existence flexes butterfly-bright wings,
Leads to true aims attained, - unchained heart rings
Ideal dream’s forward stream, finds feelings strong.
No preconceptions air false right, true wrong,
Dare rush to judgement, for fresh insight brings
An innate understanding as scope sings
Boundless expansion where the word “belong”
Empathy may entertain, prolong.
Leave Time’s agression, all unpleasant stings,
Invite proactive flight free from kite strings.
New doors lead into sharing far from nong!
Draw inspiration to enhance and cheer
A reach where each from each learns vision clear.
10 June 2006
Fresh Dimensions Poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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As 42 Is the Answer to Everything (revised)
Might I interest you
in a poem of 42
where the answer to everything may be found
There color can be heard
And number is the word
exceeding every expectation ere earthbound
Might I share with you
a secret you once knew
though you left it in the backyard of your youth
when regrets arrived there never
and tomorrows stretched on forever
where only hopes and wishes spoke the truth
Should this proposal you avow
your mind may then allow
suspending laws of both time and space
Beyond boundaries of science
perhaps you’ll learn reliance
on a power that proceeds from inner place
Should 42 appear deficient
perhaps your imagination’s insufficient
to step beyond the box like trappings of your mind
Please believe me when I say
you can go everywhere today
for there is no end to the universe you’ll find
Dreams never secede
Or imagination exceed
Should you but loosen grasp on the limited material
Greater riches you would find
In the bright light of the mind
No earthly treasures can meet measure the ethereal
Having been there myself before
I often return to explore
lately considering it as a permanent address
Spirit houses I do find
to be simply quite sublime
Though where to place the mailbox I can’t guess
Might I take you with me
through visions we can see
when we have learned to look without our human eyes
There 42 makes perfect sense
the finest truth one can dispense
For it's only the word ‘IMPOSSIBLE’ that lies.
Readers note: For some insight into the inspiration for this poem
you might wish to Google: ‘42’ or alternately search ‘the answer to everything’
poem by Mary Havran
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The Fish - 0093 - Current version after Bryan Waller Procter Pre-Existence
I sit beside the spring and wish
I had a silver tail,
so up the stream my trail could swish,
sunlight upon each scale,
till by some bay my school of fish
might spot a trawler's trail,
which, followed, must tense anguish net -
woe to temptatios sail!
Who would provide a tasty dish
one morn at market sale,
fed as fritters - perish first
scales weighed upon some scale,
no dawn to spawn or to cherish?
I blubber like a whale...
the thought sends shivers, - feverish
from seashore I turn tail
such crass ambitions vanish swift -
so here I leave my tale!
(18 June 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sic Transit
Sudden summer laughter wave lift-drifts. Lush vale
stirs startled, sweating afternoon. Echo's no avail,
for sounds are swiftly smothered, as if some spider’s veil
Present, Past, Hereafter, threads, cocooning mortal wail.
Slowly drifting over sun-sparkling sylvan stream’s
springs and falls, bright sunlit halls, where silver salmon teems,
that fisher’s mind recalls far larger than his life-size dreams.
Scene subtle, suddenly disturbed, is smashed to smithereens.
Beasts tied to dry land try Time’s patience, thresher’s flail,
Brash bipeds too, though new, shall pass, ~ such small detail, ~
their lice must perish too, should spiders tell spun tale?
Arachnidae survive where flies die, race over, trace trails fail.
The crush-rush mortals know no wind-blown stones record
when hush dawn’s blushing show will welcome silence sans discord...
(23 March 1975 revised 3 August 2007,27 May 2008 robi03_0053)
For previous versions see below
Sic Transit
Sudden summer laughter wave lift-drifts through lush vale,
stirs, startles afternoon; - echo of no avail,
for sounds are smothered soon, as if some spider’s veil
Present, Past, Hereafter, surrounds â€" cocoons prevail.
Slowly drifting over sun-sparkling sylvan stream’s,
springs and falls, sunlit halls, where silver salmon teems
that fisher’s mind recalls far larger than his dreams, -
scene one sun, supernova, flash beams to smithereens.
Beasts tied to dry land try Time’s patience, thresher’s flail;
Brash bipeds too, though new, shall pass, ~ such small detail, ~
their lice must perish too, will insects tell their tale?
Who’d fly shall also die, race over, trace trails fail.
The crush, the rush, we know, what wind-blown stone records
when hush dawn’s blushing show welcomes without discord...?
(3 August 2007)
Sic Transit Gloria Mundi
Scented summer laughter, softly sifting through the vale,
stirs the silence sixty seconds, though all to no avail,
as the sound is swiftly smothered, as if by spider’s veil.
Slowly drifting over the rushing mountain streams, -
those springs and falls, the sunlit halls, where silver salmon teems, -
in which for scaly fare oft search the fearsome fishing teams.
Birds fly through sky, beasts try dry land, too soon both trails must fail,
brash bipeds too, though still so new, will pass, ~ such small detail, ~
leaving their lice to linger on, insects to tell their tale!
(23 March 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Recollections of a Dreamland
Rouse ye! torpid daylight-dreamers, cast your carking cares away!
As calm air to troubled water, so my night is to your day;
All the dreary day you labour, groping after common sense,
And your eyes ye will not open on the night's magnificence.
Ye would scow were I to tell you how a guiding radiance gleams
On the outer world of action from my inner world of dreams.
When, with mind released from study, late I lay note down to sleep,
From the midst of facts and figures, into boundless space I leap;
For the inner world grows wider as the outer disappears,
And the soul, retiring inward, finds itself beyond the spheres.
Then, to this unbroken sameness, some fantastic dream succeeds,
Vague emotions rise and ripen into thoughts and words and deeds.
Old impressions, long forgotten, range themselves in Time and Space,
Till I recollect the features of some once familiar place.
Then from valley into valley in my dreaming course I roam,
Till the wanderings of my fancy end, where they began, at home.
Calm it lies in morning twilight, while each streamlet far and wide
Still retains its hazy mantle, borrowed from the mountain's side;
Every knoll is now an island every wooded bank a shore,
To the lake of quiet vapour that has spread the valley o’er.
Sheep are couched on every hillock, waiting till the morning dawns,
Hares are on their early rambles, limping o’er the dewy lawns.
All within the house is silent, darkened all the chambers seem,
As with noiseless step I enter, gliding onwards in my dream.
What! has Time run out his cycle, do the years return again?
Are there treasure-caves in Dreamland where departed days remain?
I have leapt the bars of distance—left the life that late I led—
I remember years and labours as a tale that I have read;
Yet my heart is hot within me, for I feel the gentle power
Of the spirits that still love me, waiting for this sacred hour.
Yes,—I know the forms that meet me are but phantoms of the brain,
For they walk in mortal bodies, and they have not ceased from pain.
Oh! those signs of human weakness, left behind for ever now,
Dearer far to me than glories round a fancied seraph's brow.
Oh! the old familiar voices ! Oh! the patient waiting eyes!
Let me live with them in dreamland, while the world in slumber lies!
For by bonds of sacred honour will they guard my soul in sleep
From the spells of aimless fancies, that around my senses creep.
They will link the past and present into one continuous life,
While I feel their hope, their patience, nerve me for the daily strife.
For it is not all a fancy that our lives and theirs are one,
And we know that all we see is but an endless work begun.
Part is left in Nature's keeping, part is entered into rest,
Part remains to grow and ripen, hidden in some living breast.
What is ours we know not, either when we wake or when we sleep,
But we know that Love and Honour, day and night, are ours to keep.
What though Dreams be wandering fancies, by some lawless force entwined,
Empty bubbles, floating upwards through the current of the mind?
There are powers and thoughts within us, that we know not, till they rise
Through the stream of conscious action from where Self in secret lies.
But when Will and Sense are silent, by the thoughts that come and go,
We may trace the rocks and eddies in the hidden depths below.
Let me dream my dream till morning; let my mind run slow and clear,
Free from all the world's distraction, feeling that the Dead are near,
Let me wake, and see my duty lie before me straight and plain.
Let me rise refreshed, and ready to begin my work again.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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Since I Met You 1051 Sandrine Bonnant after William Shakespeare Sonnet XI
Since I met you my eye is in my mind,
And all which makes me be, eat, sleep, or drink
Now functions, now suspended, partly blind,
Dares seeks to see, yet can't on others think,
Refusing to deliver to the heart
Images of bird, bloom, shape - none match!
No objects span attention's scan apart,
Enchantment when mind glimpse of you can catch.
Black's put to flight, as multi-coloured light
Overwhelms the senses lost to time,
Nirvana topsy turvy turns day, night,
Naturally flows through sonnet rhyme.
As lost for words to praise, I lose my way
To you mind turns, returns, with you would stay.
(13 November 2004)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Head Treads upon Heart's Shreds
Set is dream star which once brightly,
clear, fearless, in firmament shone,
luck's slighted, insight's dimmed, Timets slight see
grieves sleeves, life's sheeved leaves waned. Wail wan!
Shred-wed, disillusion, stark spite see,
life's cancelled game, quest, aim, fête's fun;
in tatters Fate scatters forthrightly
grace pace aced in war no-one's won.
Hope's bedspread in shreds, bed of roses
Scope pined for before: shredded, done,
un-wedded from bliss hate-hiss poses
uncomfortable questions, would shun
trust's shine shrine unjust rust lines, lies hounded,
unprevailing as lies veil pale sun,
surrounded by life's leaves dis bound, fed
by woe where fair past fast flowed fun.
(27 November 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Calculations Fail
Can knowledge any sense in life retain?
All trace in space must some day disappear.
Life's calculations fail, ambitions vain.
Colours, now magic, soon no longer here
Unknown sounds, scents tomorrow shall remain.
Love's lightning, having struck, moves on, a mere
After-ripple on time's wave, cleansed clear.
The struggle ceases, Lethe, down the drain
Is every trace flushed before we can gain
One insight on Life's mysteries, or steer
New trips through dreams, few dreams themselves appear
Sense bearing whose waft, weft, need never wane.
FAll follows pride, soul weighed by feather light,
ILl starred our ride, bright spark mid endless night.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Valleys Of The Mind
Search the dark channels of your mind
Where anything you seek you shall find.
Hidden feelings and thoughts
that you felt had been erased
Is now in another place.
A picture frame of everything that
you’ve been through- is stored in there too.
Your mind is a library of knowledge
Where everything is stored for future use.
It holds your hopes, your dreams, your ups and downs
This is where it’ll all be found.
Loves you’ve lost, and loves you’ve gained
No two are ever the same.
Take a ride through your mind
Of different places and different times.
Then there are times when you can peek
Outside of your mind, and have your life become defined.
The valleys of the mind is a complex thing
But with each turn a memory it brings.
When you take a vacation from the
Stresses of the times, it’s because
You’ve had it in your mind
poem by Louis Rams
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Unhypnagogic State
Here today, tomorrow gone, one, wan,
Yearns for yesterday's illusions bright,
Pain shards slatting shuttered pane, blind blight,
Nightmare shatters song that seemed so strong.
Anticipations fed, le[a]d, b[l]ed, sped, gone.
Ghoulish shades shed light that once read right,
Overdrawn check, wreck, suspect, indict,
Grief's reef sinks hurt heart's glow now woebegone,
Intense pain's reign won't wane, tears stain mind numb.
Calm hovers ill at ease, invites insight's
Sullen reaction stormy, tension tight,
Then 'cease upon the midnight' must succumb.
Abyssmal Lethe spawns soul's black hole schemes,
TEmpest tossed, sleep shoaled, unholy dreams.
Hell harmony dissolves, hope melts, felt wrong,
Youth yields stage, page, to age's cage despite
Past pleasure. Mirage mirror's sable night,
Negates lost hopes, frosts urge surge to belong.
Ahead read as dead end where shadows throng
Gulf gift signed disappointment, unplumbed plight
Of mourning for mirth's dearth guessed granted quite.
Ghosts guest gest shared, snared unprepared. Doom's gong
Icy echoes, Eden's exile among
Crumbling crust, rust's dust. Disgust's gust fright
Shivers sends, wrends hope for scope through flight.
Time dreads what fate has read[y], feels pain's prong
Accumulating heartache as fear teems.
TEars cascade, afraid, frayed nerves, soul screams.
Here today, tomorrow gone, one, wan,
Yearns for yesterday's illusions bright,
Pain replacing shattered pane tonight,
Nightmare erasing song that strung along
Anticipations tender, warmth which shone.
Glance chance inspired, joy fired, that once felt right,
Overdrawn, in disbelief, dark blight,
Grief's reef shoal founders soul so woebegone,
In pain whose reign won't wane, tears stain mind numb.
Calm hovers ill at ease, invites insight's
Sudden reaction stormy, tension tight.
To cease upon the midnight, to succumb
At last to tempting Lethe welcome seems
TEmpest tossed sleep lost by broken dreams
Acrostic Sonnet Hypnagogic State Hypnagogic - sleep inducing
Words in brackets convey two or more meanings meanings
First word of each line reads top down:
Here yearns pain. Nightmare anticipations ghoulish. Overdrawn grief's intense. Calm sullen, then abyssmal tempest.
First word of each line reads bottom up:
Tempest abyssmal then sullen calm - intense grief's overdrawn ghoulish anticipations - pain yearns here
Second sonnet First word of each line reads top down
Hell, youth past negates. Ahead gulf of ghosts, icy, crumbling, shivers time, accumulating tears.
First word of each line reads bottom up:
Tears accumulating, time shivers crumbling icy ghosts of gulf ahead, negates past youth. Hell.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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