Unbiased Overview 1502
Egocentricity considers key
cold guarantee sustaining sinecure
retaining pride well blinkered which won't see
it seeds its self-destruction, mirage lure.
Spirit fair needs focus to ensure
essential energy through harmony.
feeds progress, never stumbles immature,
nor squanders its potentiality.
Channel timing, expression premature
scythes empty air, impairs the will to be,
short-circuiting its very armature
sending signals contradictory.
Through overview unbiased sans detour
Time's pattern pulse may be transmitted free
from preconditionned judgements dark, obscure.
Find echo which rings true to equity.
(15 November 2006)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Discipline
Spirit needs discipline to ensure
that the mind may draw, may feed
upon itself and not, immature,
waste its potential. Indeed,
premature expression
scythes through empty air
to harvest its own suppression,
leaving none to care.
Egocentricity, its own sinecure,
voids its own vacuum, too nowhere must lead.
(22 May 1992 revised 27 April 2007/for previous version see below)
Discipline
Spirit needs discipline to ensure
that harmony can feed
upon itself and not, immature,
waste its potential. Indeed,
premature expression
scy[t]hes though empty air
to harvest its own suppression,
leaving none to care.
Egocentricity its own[ly] sinecure.
(22 May 1992)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Cynosure 1314 Initial Version
Soul's sensitivity alone cannot secure
the battle against fear where jealousy and greed
may daily undermine ambitions fine, immure
the soul behind walls high, to tie where freedom's need
is great, must greater grow, - our world has ills to cure.
Thus channelled energy is needed to ensure
a healthy harmony, space helping spirit feed
upon the way not waste through haste or immature
blind curiosity, potential strong indeed:
not eat itself, indwell, self sell - pride premature.
For premature expression harvests self-suppression,
egocentricity its only sinecure.
Here ends this sonnet's session on an upbeat to freshen
impressions and procure a smile as cynosure :)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Find Focus 1728
Few self-selected boundaries secure
success against distortions. Envy, greed
may undermine intentions fine, immure
great goals from circumspection's jesses freed.
Need's great when limits grate, for cynosure.
Where moderation frets, ambitions feed
appetites which waste, haste immature,
potential spendthrift squandered. To succeed,
spurn sinecure, forthrightness fair ensure,
refusing pride's possession, purblind lead
feeding views subjective, premature.
Find focus as unbiased instincts guide.
Way's narrow, high's temptation's signing fee
between the devil and the deep blue sea.
(11 April 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Cynosure 1314 2006 Version
High sensitivity cannot secure
soul's struggle against fear where envy, greed
may undermine ambitions fine, immure
the mind behind walls high when freedom's need
is great, must greater grow, - our world has ills to cure.
Focus forthright's needed to ensure
a healthy harmony, where hope may feed
upon the way not waste, haste immature,
potential open-handed, to succeed,
not eat itself, self sell - pride premature.
Avoid both pride's possession, prepossession
egocentric tomb boom's sinecure.
Sonnet session ends on upbeat - freshen
impressions and advance as cynosure.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Book of Life - Acrostic Sonnet Olivier Alexis
Open the pages, though the story’s end
Lies shrouded in a future closed to me,
In step with Time, to whose will all must bend,
Voyage which spirals to eternity.
In equity all judgements try to rend,
Equal give to foe, receive from friend.
Remember when you help that amity
Always returns your own needs to attend -
Love given, love will echo firm and free.
Express your true opinions, and defend
‘X’ - even if unknown, from falsehood. Send
In harmony all signals, try to be
Steady, open-minded, just. To each
Life Will great happiness forever reach.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Focus
FOCUS
Season seeds another season’s seeds
Until all seasons cease with Time’s decease.
Reason reads another reason’s redes -
Understanding seldom sees increase.
Needs release still greater needs, each feeds
Non obstat on each other, ne’er at peace
Unless breeze ripples rush to stir the reeds
As when the pregnant cloudbanks grey release
Gaudy Iris, water-weighed, which leads
Everything to infinite release.
Garner feelings, disregarding creeds,
Retain true focus for fair golden fleece
Is found within heart's harmony which heeds
Simplicity, not ink lined frontispiece!
22 November 1996
robi03_0834_robi03_0000 ASX_EIZ
acrostic sonnet Sur un nuage gris... previous title New Age Grade?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Cynosure 1314 Current Version
Deep sensitivity may not secure
soul's struggle against fear where envy, greed
undermine ambitions fine, immure
the mind behind walls high when freedom's need
is great, must greater grow, our world has ills to cure.
Focus, concentration, help ensure
proactive symbiosis as hopes feed
on chance enhanced, spurn waste, haste immature.
Potential open-ended, to succeed,
refuses compromise, boast premature,
avoids both pride's possession, prepossession -
egocentric tomb boom's sinecure.
Sonnet session ends on upbeat - freshen
impressions and advance as cynosure.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Beyond Straitjackets - 1567 - May 2008 Version
Life's pattern shifts as time from time's thread stock
mutates or waits on catalyst to key
into, through, metamorphosis to see
beyond historic references' lock
beyond straitjackets that clear thinking block.
The answer may not individuality
be seen to be but way we Destiny
engage in path unique as life's short clock
tic tocs from birth to berth, first shock, last dock.
Genes seldom hold free-will or equity
in fee - to Darwin contradictory -
dreams, compromise, from each bloom, blow half-cock.
Through open options, opportunity,
each may advance, find wings, at last feel free
(24 May 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Speed Read
Quick response serves not if message dim,
Unclear or out of kilter prove to be.
Importance lies retaining verity
Combined with style, - still keeping in the swim -
Knowing, sowing, owing naught to whim.
Links form, melt what appeared disparity,
Yet pulses patterns which provide true key -
Questions met when innovative vim
Unshackles chains to spirit free, or limb,
Incorporates sense hid as harmony
Crumbles Chinese walls with energy.
Keen mind on Time waits not to patterns trim,
Links signals swift, leaves noise behind, to piece
Years future, past, together, gains release...
11 June 2005
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
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Timed Thread
Pattern shifts as time from time’s t[h]read stock
mutates or waits on catalyst to key
into, through, metamorphosis to see
beyond historic references’ lock
beyond straitjackets that clear thinking block.
The answer may not individuality
be seen to be but ways which destiny
choice negociates as life’s short clock
tic tocs from birth to berth, first shock, last dock.
Genes seldom hold free-will or equity
in fee - to Darwin contradictory -
from bloom to tomb dreams compromised half-cock.
Through open options, opportunity,
Mankind high rises evolution’s tree.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Refuse Short Fuse
Short fuse refuse, compliance automatic
Has had its day, rejoice in choices where
Open horizons offer future fair.
Ride the tide to banish autocratic
Traits of mind behind smiles soft and static.
Find scale, tune time to shed blind veil, compare
Unbiased options open everywhere.
Signals send amending all erratic
Ephemera extemporary, ecstatic.
Swift to pencil in blank sheet we bear
Hope’s theme: responsibility and care
Over patter pattern enigmatic.
Remember Patience, smiling still at Grief,
Takes time to rhyme, allows the mind relief...
11 June 2005
poem by Jonathan Robin
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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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Victim of his own Success
Man, victim of his own success, must fast grasp opportunity
to offer all equality of chances and advances stress
as the ability to press for rights for disability
the strong ignore, or fail to bless.
Man, victim of his own success, does not deserve impunity
when biosphere supportive he still stifles in the name of, - guess, -
‘Democracy’, free-choice oppress through ways of ta[l]king liberty
as only freedom to repress.
Man, victim of his own success, - tale’s pun, - few marks of modesty
retains, yet with anxiety observes galactic game of chess
while most Earth’s problems won’t address. This manifest dichotomy
highlights concerns we should assess.
Man, victim of his own success, needs to transcend his history
predative, channel energy towards solutions which suppress
his immaturity, redress the balance of society,
extend awareness free from stress.
Man, victim of his own success, must sail beyond tsunami he
created to a safer sea where winds of change may not express
a whirlwind strange that all confess none can control. Society
must change or soon will sink, regress.
Man, victim of his own success, must map return to sanity,
respect with assiduity the planet’s need to convalesce,
create conditions which attest acceptance by humanity
of overview which won’t aggress.
Man, victim of his own success, must understand ecology
requires intrinsic harmony, may join “I wish” to “I possess”
providing much more, - never less, - is harvested with equity,
without the urge to dispossess.
Man, victim of his own success should heed the lessons most agree
accompany pride’s apogee, and not attempt to second guess
the seasons’ reasons or finesse. Where just fat few progress we see
misuse far more than maladdresse.
Man, victim of his own success, beyond base skills of repartee,
should take time off from Time to key into distortions which transgress
ideals which should not ever stress the views of tight community
or vested interests. Nonetheless, -
Man, victim of his own success, must meet the challenges that he
has catalyzed - calamity around the corner waits unless
he acts - declines to acquiesque with urbane equanimity, -
protects his progeny’s success…
Which, victim of its own success, may stray from birthright destiny
to cul-de-sac of history, through compromise, increase distress
or narrow hopes where scope could press for change proactive, remedy
renewed temptations to digress through need to influence, impress,
the generations yet to be, compress its chances - tragedy
whose risks too high remain as we depict the options which depress
the outlook for our century.
(c) Jonathan Robin 1992 -2006
10 October 1992,3 October 2006
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I’m or Im-perfect
I'M OR IM-PERFECT
Perfection mirage often seems,
Equity protection needs.
Responsibility recedes
From cul-de-sac coercive streams.
Extrapolating god supreme
Church sectarian worry beads
To contention lead, strife breeds
Further strife, attracts extremes,
Advocates discrimative themes.
Much dogma self-defeats, or feeds
Irrationality. Who reads
Life’s conformist pressures, narrow schemes,
Yearns for alternatives, free dreams.
Acrostic Sonnet Perfect Family
28 February 2005 and 3 December 2006 revised 16 October 2007
robi03_1068_robi03_0000 ASX_EXX
for previous version see below
I’m or Im-perfect
Perfection is not always what it seems,
Equity protection active needs,
Responsibility as tide recedes
From open options when coercive stream
Ebbs from freedom’s tenets, to false scheme
Church led [whatever church or sect] that leads
Too often to contention, strife that breeds
Further strife despite ‘truth’ some say gleams,
Attending 'church on Sunday' here speaks reams,
Much dogma self defeats, resentment feeds.
If 'Freedom' is at stake, awake! Who reads
Life’s pressures on conforming to set themes
Yet seeks alternate avenues, fires dreams.
28 February 2005 and 3 December 2006
I’m or Im-perfect © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Spirit
I can see my destination
I can hear my call
No more hesitation, mmm
This time I'm goin' for all
'Cause I know where this road leads to
And therefore I will rise
I know this dream will come true, mmm
And I will soar the sky
(Spirit, spirit)
Would you guide me? Oh
(Spirit) oh (spirit)
Stand by me
Come on, Come on, Come on
Set me free
I can feel the penetration
Of a strong wind movin' me, mmm
I feel can the elevation, mmm
Of an angel lifting me, mmm
'Cause I know where this road leads to
Therefore I will rise
I know this dream will come true, oh
And I will soar the sky
(Spirit) spirit (spirit) spirit
Would you guide me? Ohh
(Spirit) spirit (spirit) spirit
Standin' by me
Come on, Come on, Come on
Set me free
(Oh spirit)
Now that I've found my way home
I've got to get there, get there (get there)
Though one step seems one mile long
Your bridge before my face (your bridge before my face)
I will take the leap of faith (I will take the leap of faith)
(Spirit) spirit (spirit) spirit
Would you guide me? Oh
(Spirit) spirit (spirit) spirit
Stand by me, oh
(Spirit) spirit (spirit) spirit
Set me free...
(Spirit) spirit (spirit) spirit
Spirit, set me free
(Spirit) help me find my way (spirit) stand by my side
Spirit take my hand and be my guide
(Spirit) run free (spirit) run free
Run free, run free
(Spirit) run free (spirit) run free...
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Twighlight Time
'Cross the Green of yesteryear, tears~
Comes a gradual ripening of seed~
It cloisters itself, in the valleys deep~
Amongst the fertile sod, it feeds....
Encircled by a range of Mountains~
Frosted themselves, with past snow~
Left o'er icy topping's~
Shining now, in the Green May, We Know!
The snow has been there, a while~
Or at least, since November fourteen~
When the last, of premature snow fell~
Upon the Mountains and Valleys once Green!
November, now remembered, for its most icy womb~
While May, for the ice, melting itself away~
And an opening, to a Civilization Of Beauty~
As, the Seeds Of Goodness, They Bloom In Our Hearts Today!
poem by Theodora Onken
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Short Rap
Short rap (echo)
Repeat x2
Short rap, is everything
Its what I think, its what I sing
Cause Im a rapper, who lets you know
When it comes to music, I will grow
Rap more raps than any mc
Your rap aint rap cause your rap aint me
Short rap, is what you find
The mastermind, short rap that rhyme
Too short baby, thats the name
When I rap my rap I rap that game
I tell it to you like you always knew
Short raps not fake, its always true
Its me, its you, short rap is life
Its everyday and every night
And I dont just say its this and that
Its everything, its what short raps
Short rap (echo)
Itz what?
Short rap(echo)
Fresh
Short rap(echo)
Short rap(echo)
Short rap(echo)
S-h-o-r-t-r-a-p
Short rap is what I call this beat
Rap that rap like no one else
Im sir too short all by myself
I make fresh raps without your help
And all I want is fame and wealth
Smooth in the game, just like that
And all you hear me say is rap
Short (echo)
Short rap, is way to hard
Every I stop, its time to start
Cause what you find, when I say rhymes
Is a non-stop rap, right on time
Im the kind of person you always thought
Couldnt make a record that would be bought
Sir too short, it couldnt be
Short rap, whats that, short rap is me
Short rap(echo)
Short rap(echo)
So so fresh
I like tenders, young and hot
You never hear short say baby why not?
Im sir too short, Im so down
Mc rapper from the oakland town
You better get up, short raps a song
It really aint short, its much too long
Cause I dont stop, once I start
Short rap, whats that, short rap is art
Took my rap to the neighborhood
From day one too short was good
True mcs make sucka mcs
In my time they rap like me
A brotha said short, hes good as you
Saw me on stage and learned the truth
I was born, to hit the tops
Short rap, I dont stop
Short rap(echo)
Short rap(echo)
Short rap(echo)
Short rap has now affected you
Short rap wont stop until I get through
Short rap could knock,
Sucka mcs stop biting on you and start biting on me
And I wont get mad, cause Im so bad
The rap you have is the rap I had
Now if you want, my new short rap
You can put it in your shorts and bite on that
Sucka mc, you know Im fresh
A rap in my trash can top your best
Check it out boy, here and now
How will you rap when you dont know how
I wish I could hear you answer that
It just wont work and thats short rap
Try to make you understand
Dont make more raps, just be a fan
Short rap(echo)
Short rap, is it sad or funny
I thought you knew short rap is money
Sucka mc, you dont need help
All you need to do is something else
Cause mc rappers are all around
And sucka mcs are like bloodhounds
Sniffing away, to find a rhyme
Just quit rapping and you wont rap mine
Short rap, Im so hard
She got her butter on my candy bar
No time to play, just work and work
I gotta kick back, call me bizurke
Cause thats just all she made me go
Toss it up short, I know you know
Short rap, is everything
Her worst nightmare, her wettest dream
Her mind, her body, short rap is life
Shes just a friend, shes not my wife
I wouldnt even let her in my car
And the babe said Im her lucky star
Im a fresh young bachelor, I roll caddy
86 her cause she said daddy
But thats not it, it wasnt that
Short rap is life so let me rap
I gotta stop sooner, but Ill stop later
Im her man, Im not a player
And I know just what shes thinking of
Sir too short, and all her love
But then she asked for my love back
And all I had was too short raps
I cant lie, I tried to try
Your fun not one, but dont asked why
Short rap(echo)
Short rap(echo)
Is everything
Short rap(echo)
Short rap(echo)
I dont stop, baby
Short rap, is everything
Its what I think, its what I sing
Short rap, in stereo
Short is what you think you know
Your rap is fresh, but look at me
I rap more rhymes than any mc
Living so close up on the hill
Short rap wont stop, it never will(echo)
song performed by by Too Short
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tesla’s Dream
Wireless power to unite the earth
Tesla dreamt, power freely transmitted
all over the earth, picked up by a simple
receiver
Electrical energy beamed to large
cities – even ships at sea, power
broadcast in a dramatic financial
revolution
Shifting the power and status of
many nations on earth – all because
the earth is alive with electric
vibrations
Acting as a giant conductor of
electric signals – Tesla wrote of
Transmitting Electric Energy sans
Wires
In a world-wide power system
pumping energy into the earth
picked up by detectors: HOW is
unclear
Maybe using the voltage difference
between the earth and upper
atmosphere…
(From: David Peat “In Search of Nikola Tesla”)
poem by Margaret Alice
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Long On Lonely
(bob mcdill/dickie lee/bucky jones)
I'll bet that you're surpised to see me
Wonder what i'm doing at your door
But you can't be more surprised than i am
I thought i didn't need you anymore
Thought there was something waiting out there
Something i wanted but now it's so clear
Baby it's a cold, cold world
Out here tonight
It's nothing at all like i thought i'd find
So if you wonder why i'm standing here
I'm a little long on lonely, a little short on pride
If you slam the door, i wouldn't blame you
You've got every reason to turn me down
I was so sure i had the answers
After what i've been through, i'm not sure now
I won't say i love you, don't know if it's true
I will say i need you, god knows i do
Baby it's a cold, cold world
Out here tonight
It's nothing at all like i thought i'd find
So if you wonder why i'm standing here
I'm a little long on lonely, a little short on pride
I'm a little long on lonely, a little short on pride
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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