The Sage’s Response to the Septuagenarian
The Sage’s Response to the Septuagenarian
How many earthly empires
the circling sun must set?
Friend, hast felt of love fires?
Mere mortal smile, why fret?
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0021 4 November 1974
Threescore years and Ten
October’s moon is wane,
May’s sun may not be here:
how many Springs remain
my weary way to cheer?
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0020 4 November 1974
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Threescore years and Ten
Threescore years and Ten
October’s moon is wane,
May’s sun may not be here:
how many Springs remain
my weary way to cheer?
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0020 4 November 1974
The Sage’s Response to the Septuagenarian
How many earthly empires
the circling sun must set?
Friend, hast felt of love fires?
Mere mortal smile, why fret?
© Jonathan Robin robi3_0021 4 November 1974
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conception of Contraception
Had I been taught the facts of life
before I met my charming wife,
it seems unlikely most to me
we’d see in two years babies three.
© Jonathan Robin 23 July 1974 robi3_0010_robi3_0000 19740723
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sheepish Bo Peep Recombined
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
and cannot tell where to find them,
splice more DNA for cloning today
with no zoning law to unwind them...
[c] Jonathan Robin Parody Bo Peep written 27 November 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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1974
The sun is shining hard at my feet
And the city is an animal ready to eat
It's raining like a nose bleed, cigarettes and sweets
And I feel it coming on
Bloody as the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
She isn't crazy
She's just not impressed
She stabs me with her eyes
Dirty knives hidden in her dress
And it's raining like bombs in my room when I'm alone
And I swear I think I knew you before
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Do you want it, do you want it, do you want it, come on
Do you want it, do you want it, come on just bring it on
Nothing gonna stop it now
But nothing
Do you want it, come on
Do you want it, do you want it, come on just bring it on
It's 1974
It's 1974
It's 1974
It's 1974
song performed by by Ryan Adams
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Tapis Roulant - French
T’a-t-il versé ses sous pour l’amour de ton urne?
A-t-il rempli la vue en restant taciturne?
Pariah a-t-on vu, mais leurs trajets nocturnes -
Illusions perdues – passent vite, la roue tourne,
Et qui joue brûle ses ailes en blâmant Saturne!
© Jonathan Robin 20 November 1990
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Whirling Wheels of Change
All changes at each station stop,
as some jump on, off others hop.
A few with you the journey spend
from the beginning to the end.
Some with the wind spin as a top
when tables turn then off they drop.
Some hand in hand take arms, defend
your cause, and, tender, heartache mend.
Acquaintances along the way
appear, uncertain is their stay,
for there are some who one short day
take time, make trouble, before they
all hospitality gainsay,
leave empty promises of May.
”long cool sequestered way” we wend
each day, - though few may count as friend
how precious each, no need to sop
when reciprocity won’t stop.
The train of life rounds one last bend,
it is your own turn to descend.
As Charon ploughs another crop
someone else must mind the shop...
© Jonathan ROBIN Poem written 12 December 1974 & 12 April 2005
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Pevolution
Pathways towards parthenogenesis
though today’s Science Fiction may seem,
tomorrow shall channel - no pen*s is
indispen[i]sable, that’s a pipe dream!
© Jonathan Robin 23 August 1991 revised 12 October 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Straws
STRAWS
Straws sometimes break the camel's back -
Intent or accident, who knows?
Beyond the pale none may job back, -
Yet who resists his inner woes?
Life's seldom seen as white or black,
Life needs nuances, change of clothes,
Expressed emotions' open flows.
18 November 2001
robi03_0971_robi03_0000 AXX_MXX
acrostic SIBYLLE Poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Rennes
RENNES
A Sunday lunch was set to greet
the stranger, who’d begot with child
an eldest daughter, sweet and mild.
They anxiously desired to meet
the man she hoped would never cheat,
by whom three years she’d been beguiled.
They little spoke, though surface-smiled,
uncertain how they had to treat
the situation, stayed discrete.
The time passed swiftly, nothing riled,
they comfort took, felt reconciled
to facts discussed without deceit.
He left. They felt relaxed, although
still wondered what next year would show.
21 October 1995
robi03_0784_robi03_0000 SXX_MOX
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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What Is, Was
WHAT IS, WAS
What is, was, what was, will be, -
The wheel turns while Time cheats
Those who'd cheat time.
5 September 1998
What is Was_19980911_What is, was, what was, will be ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi03_0886_robi03_0000 XXX_CJZ
Poem What Is, Was © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Analysis of Analysts - 0022
It's sad to see such talent sacked
and seek redundancy,
the system that they backed has lacked
much flexibility.
In days of boom, whatever cost,
their cousel claimed quickly,
in days of doom, when much seems lost,
such slip like leaf from tree.
Economy, accountancy,
they studied at the school,
and having taken their degree,
presumed all else a fool.
When next day dawns, or dare I speak,
employment temporary
will scarce attract, instead most seek
in contract some safety.
When next day dawns, as in the past,
it is psychology
that they must master, else quite fast
will fail to find a fee!
(5 November 1974)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Good Old Days
How really were the ways
painted in poets’ plays,
the sunsets and the suns
set out in Cadmus’ songs?
The lyre, the ancient lays,
the sages’ interplays?
They covered countless wrongs,
the misery of the throngs.
The pauper now repays
the rich for serf’s harsh thongs.
I write on in my rhymes
about our former times,
to which some turn with awe -
misplaced nostalgia! -
to comment on the crimes,
the sweeps, the Mr. Grimes.
We’ve travelled very far
from carthorse to the car, -
though children still shaft mines -
few coal for railway lines.
The 'Good Old Days' it seems,
remembered from our dreams,
show slight reflection bright
when held up to the light.
So though now trouble teems
distorting climate streams -
as we are warmed at night,
asleep and tucked up tight,
dreams remain but dreams, -
Reality’s in...sight!
© Jonathan ROBIN robi3_0027_robi3_0000 XXX_JZX 14 December 1974
poem by Jonathan Robin
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London Fog - 0023
Fog hangs heavy in London air,
brokers rest but for a prayer;
eyes aghast, souls in despair,
seeking business everywhere.
Bargains booked throughout the day
decline in number, then don't pay.
All about them makes them say:
'No more at market will we play! '
(12 December 1974)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Begging the Question 0549 - Current Version
Who puts all eggs in one basket
bawls all begs in one ask it
(9 November 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Hell
Hell
Hell is where
flower fair
is pictured
in pitcher
rather
than in the
arms of our
Earth mother.
Finer
free from fear
© Jonathan Robin 4 January 1970
Hell_19700104_Hell is where flower fair ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_0002_robi3_0000 XXX_MXX
ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_0002_robi3_0000 XXX_MXX Hell_Hell is where flower fair
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Mirrors in the Mind
MIRRORS IN THE MIND
Multilingual input generates
interactions as synaptic flows
call into question limits scaled, propose
an interplay as mind anticipates
alternate routes, exploring hidden gates.
Mirrors in the mind too many close,
moderate intensity whose throws
enthusiastic challenge all that calculates
Nature spontaneous, feelings calibrates.
Deny those compromises others chose,
express beyond all verse, beyond all prose
tenderness which sharing stimulates.
Mute who'd remain who happiness has found? -
in tune responsive, tone whose depths astound...
3 November 2001
robi03_0963_robi03_0000 SXX_JMX
Mirrors in the Mind poem (c) Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Whim wit[h]in the brain
awaiting synaptic spring
intuition's skein.
(4 November 2006)
haiku by Jonathan Robin (04 November 2006)
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Someone’s Daughter
Her mouth is coarse, her lipstick vulgar,
pearl glasses wide as any saucer,
her dress is dark as nakèd night,
her hair is in a sorry plight! -
Enough! - she too’s life’s brick and mortar,
and, flesh for flesh, is someone’s daughter.
© Jonathan Robin 15 January 1969
Someone's Daughter_19690115_Her mouth is coarse ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_0001_robi3_0000 XXX_MXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
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C[l]over Girl after Emily Dickinson - To make a prairie it takes a clover
To make true change it takes a Biden and one B.
One Biden and a B.
And reverie.
But reverie alone won't do
'til Palin's blue.
To make an omelette it takes some milk and one egg.
Some milk and an egg
and gas or light.
With reverie alone make do
if we're not few.
To stake a claim takes some land and one hope.
Some land and a hope,
called reverie.
The reverie alone won't do
with carats few.
To bake a cake it takes...
'and so ad infinitum'
Author notes
C[l]over Girl = Cove Over Cover Lover Clover Girl
[c] Jonathan Robin parody Emily Dickinson first stanza written 1 November 2008 subsequent stanzas added 2 November 2008
robi3_1400
ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_1400_robi1_0000 PWX_JXX Clover Girl_To make true change it takes a Biden and a B
n.b. cove in English may also mean Man
Clover and Bee
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
DICKINSON Emily 1830_1886 dick2_0017_dick2_0000 PXX_NXX To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee_To make a prairie
poem by Jonathan Robin
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From sent present's tomb
crescent dreams coalescent
spring towards full bloom
(16 November 2008)
haiku by Jonathan Robin (16 November 2008)
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