Who'll Say Imagination Fails? 0939
Thesis
Spring sap and summer sun prepare a page
Autumnal sending shivers down the spine.
Nine months gestation, three [s]core years, life's stage
Gives way to Winter woes, wan Death's design.
Though leaves believe in triumph for a space
Of years Time runs rings round ridged wrinkled bark,
Night falls too quickly, few leave lasting trace
As bite turns toothless finds falsetto bark.
Then blue skies turn to grey, youth's chestnut tresses,
Adored once, age transmutes to silver pure,
Life's wick is snuffed by Fate, the trick distresses,
Is trapped by Time, pathology none cure.
And yet, who'll say imagination fails,
When your smile warms, storms cease, new lease lifts scales.
Antithesis
Such themes, of tattered trees, of timber logged,
Are far from sure to forward lover's cause.
Nor are nightmares, white hairs, or blood-lines clogged,
Guaranteed to win true love's applause.
Turn then that page, think rather each day brings
Open space to change, to challenge fears,
New light to shed wrong's stings, to spread strong wings
Anticipating flight beyond frontiers
To which embittered habit often clings.
Accompany imagination, steer
Limitless course which no misgivings brings,
Is both at peace with others, self, sincere.
Acclaimed is tolerance, condemned disguise,
Wellspring flame true fame personnifies.
(23 May 2001)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis
Thesis
The sixth age shifts to 'slipper'd pantaloon,
'shrunk shank and childish trebles in pipe'line,
slight space to trace ambitions in decline,
and 'hungry generations' tread' is no cartoon
reflected echo for sage or buffoon.
The die is cast, as pride before the fall
sends shadow shivers over summer's prime,
on autumn's outcome none now bet a dime
as winter wins blank cheque and blanker wall.
The voice for choice Alzheimer claims, no hand
stalls 'moving finger', makes up for time lacked,
signs devil's pact ensuring second act, -
the writing on that wall precedes Death's pall, -
leaves ten to add to three score then the night
draws curtains, guarantees no further flight.
Antithesis
Three hundred years ago few forty passed.
Men, wars, and women childbirth, both disease,
or accident, went west through fate's decrees,
forgotten faces breathed forgotten last.
Few now face sixty palsied and aghast,
for life expectancy at eighty sees
most in the West hale, hearty 'if you please! '
with those in lands less favoured long outcast.
Yet who now flirt with sixty's certainties
could well outlive old Nestor, breast Time's seas
with knowledge that activities which fast
faded, failed, in future may contrast
with fears for years and tears for biers, may 'seize
the day' with confidence that life
may buy more time amid this vail of strife.
Synthesis
Sixty need not be point of no return,
maturity salutes a second spring,
welcomes unexpected joys within,
adds spice to life as onwards cycles turn.
Much hangs upon sustaining will to learn,
where voice for choice rings true, can span time's spin
enhancing both enjoyment, will to win,
While some soon snuff, still many candles burn
bright into night and true respect may earn.
There is no date of weight, no wait, no sin -
save disrespect for self - as trust may twin
with Time to eke new innings, spurn concern.
This sythesis still presupposes Man
must make his peace with Nature, excess ban!
(13 July 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I have a Dream
I have a dream, and you are its spring,
I have a ring and you are its finger
to offer a future where true love can linger
well into the winter of life, so I sing: -
every day, every way, share tenderness true.
Life has a scheme, and you are its reason
ring spinning win/win day in and day out,
minds meeting without hesitation or doubt,
from season to season osmosis agrees on
serenity, harmony, eyes linked, skies blue.
I have a dream, to open my heart,
two hearts combine, part of each each becomes,
never sundered apart, nor divided, a sum
to multiply joy, - let our summer now start: -
let us share love together, forever skies blue.
Life has a scheme, where we two may share
joy's voyage, scope, journey to Cape of Good Hope,
page turns, earns rainbow, learns to tenderly cope,
where bubbles - scares, troubles - dissolve in thin air,
where tenderness timeless unites me to you.
I have a dream, and you are its tune
violins and the moon, in love side by side,
on hope’s wings will we ride with no other beside,
with blossoms which bloom, braving storm and typhoon
we shall share love together, each day brings joy new.
Life has a scheme to play through the years,
where happiness hears far more than is spoken,
where trust answers trust, no promises broken,
affection awoken defeating false fears;
interwoven, our destinies know no adieu.
I have a dream where you are the sun,
true love has begun to burst into fire,
so I take up my lyre to string your desire –
all roses and cream, all winners, all’s won:
let us share love together, forever skies blue.
Life has a scheme, theme tune winning team
forever sings clear in harmony dear,
where both far and near the same may appear,
respect and esteem consecration supreme:
where each day adds to optimistic debut.
I have a dream where tenderness reigns,
where it never rains but to colour the rainbow,
we shall feel Cupid’s arrow, we’ll harvest who sow
seeds of love, we who care shall share joy, know no pains,
every day, every way, share tenderness new.
Life has a scheme where forever we rhyme
outside time, outside space where harsh world might intrude,
outside climb or disgrace, chase, ambition, fall, feud,
where winter seems short, spring's rebirth seems sublime,
felicity's favours afforded to few.
I have a dream, and you are its spring,
I have a ring and you are its finger
to offer a future where true love can linger
well into the winter of life, so I sing: -
every day, every way, share tenderness true.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Weather
Weather, O weather, did you arrive or will you ever
whether your spring is here or the winter, as ever
My heart lived it to the utmost, in agony however
thus, come or go, sweet or bitter, or just whatsoever
Useless to pass life with you, moron to be or a clever
O weather of memories, to forget you I shall do, never
And when the melodies play amid the noises of music
shall I count the years when I became healthfully sick
Large is the space under this weather, but of many a brick
and freedom is within your reach but shall I sacrifice my neck?
O weather of wonders, corrupted my life with just a flick
away or near, with peace and fear, my mind you did kick
Bring your roses and blosoms, or the dust of age
fearsome shall not be, and there shall I be on a stage
When the applause raise up, that shall be my own wage
and certainly, away from you I am going to break the cage
So stop the seduction, and the calls of love on a new page
here is my way up to the hill, whether or not I am a sage
Oh my, am I crazy to talk to the weather of springs?
my thoughts are racing through faster than wings
What am I saying? Seems life filled me with stings
and sitting down now, no care for whatever it brings
Anyway, it goes around, and so does the life of kings
high to low, and low to high, all are but some weatherings
-
http: //www.geocities.com/mat_group/
poem by Taher Shemaly
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Touching Tendrils
TOUCHING TENDRILS
Touching tendrils feather fills life’s song,
Existence flexes butterfly bright wings,
New heights attained, unchained brain changes rings,
Dreams shared bear forward twinned emotions strong.
Ease of mind both find - no right, no wrong -
Renewal soothes both restlessness, stress stings.
New stirrings, purrings. Pair together brings
Empathy expanding before long.
Sensitivity feels 'I belong',
Sees comfort sharing peace not scrambled strings.
From Time’s aggression and ‘repentance flings’
Open hearts share tenderness, prolong
Reach where each learns from each, teach insight clear,
Magic touch as feather light as dear.
25 July 2001 revised 13 December 2008
robi03_0948_robi03_0000 ASX_KLX
See ‘Tenderness For’ previous version below
‘repentance flings’ see Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam – Edward Fitzgerald
Tenderness For...
Tender feelings fill life with soft song,
Existence, like a butterfly, finds wings,
New heights can reach to teach us many things -
Dreams forward look, hearts share emotions strong.
Ease of mind we find, - no right, no wrong, -
Reduced is tension, as when bell joy rings
New love with bridal pair together, brings
Empathy, understanding, vision long.
Sensitivity feels 'I belong',
Sees, confident, a future free from strings,
Free from aggression, - Time's unpleasant stings
Outlawed are, all turns tenderness, strong.
Rose without a thorn, light fair and clear,
may guide our way each day, each month, each year.
25 July 2001
Touching Tendrils poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Your Imagination
Lyrics & music: daryl hall
I remember when i used to be the jealous kind
I got over it, now you're taking over my old line
You're caring too much about what i say
You're wondering too much about what i do
And baby, your imagination
Imagination's got the best of you
I ain't doin' nothing that you could really say was wrong
Just one oversight and no that didn't last too long
Listen, you're caring too much about what i say
You're wondering too much about what i do
And baby, your imagination
Imagination's got the best of you
Don't know what you're looking for
What's this thing about "true blue"
You know i ain't no danger boy
You're the one i like to touch, touch you, you
When the mood is right, change the light and the moment's gone
Better turn around, 'cause the light doesn't last too long
You're caring too much about what i say
You're wondering too much about what i do
And baby, your imagination
Imagination's got the best of you
Imagination, your imagination
Imagination, use your imagination.
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Your Eyes
through your eyes a spring,
a summer, an autumn, winter
the ingratiating smile your eyes
reflect a river of passion
summer laughter, autumnal walk,
romantic candlelit valentine
the carvort of light and shadow
takes us through the corridors of night
the gems of love sparkle like stars
i gather them onto a page every word
echoes you as we shed layers
of ourselves like divine flowers
like how leaves freeze time to give us
a cherished outing in scarlet and sepia
a sweeping odyssey the light of fall translates so well
a red blazing orb, an entree to a season
so pleasurable and mersmerising to hold onto
through your eyes a spring,
a summer, an autumn, winter
the ingratiating smile your eyes
reflect a river of passion
summer laughter, autumnal walk,
romantic candlelit valentine
the carvort of light and shadow
takes us through the corridors of night
where the gems of love sparkle like stars
i gather them onto a page so that the words
twinkles with every facet of love
we shed layers of ourselves like divine flowers
like how leaves take leave to freeze time
to give us a cherished outing in sepia
a sweeping odyssey the scarlet of fall translates so well
a red blazing orb, an entree to a season
so pleasurable and mersmerising to hold onto
second version
second version:
through your eyes
a spring, a summer
an autumn, winter
the ingratiating smiles
the like of dawn dazzling spring
summer laughters, romantic candlelit valentine
where the delightful carvorts between light and shadows
take me through corridors of night
I harvest the gems of love for a
page every word echoes you
spring that helps us find layers of ourselves
unfolding like petals of a divine flower
swirling through the breeze
colours that wrap us so warmly to let
the inner sanctum speak to each other
in the sweltering summer passion,
autumnal romance that sways between leaves
a smoldering experience the scarlet of fall
translates so well, a red blazing orb,
an entree to a winter that makes everything
so pleasurable to hold onto
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Time passes him (English ballade)
His world falls into disrepair,
as if pulled out of the universe,
his life shatters into fragments
he looses his work, his house
chorus:
time passes him
days becomes weeks, weeks turn into months,
full of lonely evenings
months change into years.
his wife leaves him for a lover,
both of his cars are stolen,
his brown Labrador passes away from tick-bite fever
his black and white cat gets cat-flue
and nothing turns out well,
but he looks at life level-headed,
daily searches for work
and write poems one after the other.
His motorbike is smashed
from under him by a four by four
and not really mended properly
while he tries to build a life from shoelaces
and when he walks down the street
the sky is pure blue,
he notices plovers on the rugby field
hears doves in the trees,
faces are unknown to him,
he knows no girl in this new town
and he is speechless,
as some are smiling at him
but he talks to nobody,
is only observing,
every evening he has to take the family devotion
and it’s a struggle for him
and mornings when the sun rises,
he digs in the garden,
see weeds and grass sprouting out everywhere
and it’s as if everything keeps on declining
and still he persists in hoping,
walking the road to town day after day
as if a miracle could happen suddenly,
as if at a time God can untie his life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Homerun - 1060
From dark to light one cry.
cot, tot, fine whine, youth tries
to rise, outshine, strength vies
to test itself far, nigh,
will ever improvise,
wings spread ahead would fly
beyond the common sty.
Ends, means, some justify
as tools to fool, win prize
refusing to downsize
goals which new goals supply,
to grow, while enterprise
won't sit, knit idly by
would flow to know, apply.
See sun at zenith high
where fair sweep cloudless skies,
fragility belies.
Self on self will rely
And thus we compromise
ourselves, each hour thereby
prepares grief leaf's demise.
Men, weak 'how, what, when, why'
seek to deny, despise
as limits while each eyes
ambitions run awry.
Most fail to realize
fame's flame soon sinks, falls shy
of promise time can't buy.
Stagnation by and by
sets in, transforms to ties
what once soared free, - denies
rights others seek would lie,
Inventing alibis
inverting truth stain, dye,
strain, pain, until sparks die.
Still time will onward fly!
Few care to recognize
sunset whet hopes defies,
dare not, with rules comply,
scope set cut down to size.
With humour grim and wry
Fate on each whim may spy.
Life's voyage does imply
page after page time tries
to crop or circumsize,
each stage a wager sly
as cause, effect, in guise
of free choice voice deny
to unborn options! Why?
Tide turns, Time's spring runs dry.
The candle burns. The wise,
the fool, fourscore, fade, rise
no more, till final cry
whose sense none can disguise.
No echo, no reply.
from light to dark, sole sigh.
(9 February 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Book
Have you ever opened a book?
And feel like it’s your life
As you watch each page go pass
You think where did I get lost
Each chapter is an ending
Of what was or what could have been
But each new chapter a beginning
Brings you hope to live again
But the hardest thing in life
Is as you turn each page
You must learn to pass the pain
That lies between the pages
Each chapter a lesson
In life’s little games
Then we smile at ourselves
As we close the last page
To look forward to anew
Of a new chapter in our life’
We smile and nod
At the new book of life
poem by Kaila George
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Vocation, Evocation, Revocation... Correlations
To be or not to be? the question's put
in hamlet and in town, by gown or jeans,
by promise which seemed once so full of beans -
'til walking shadow gutters lamp turned soot.
Life's slings and arrows slay both those on foot
and those whose mounted pride soon falls, what paens
outlast fate's payday voiding ways and means,
both rich and poor soon trampled underfoot.
Set to heart's tune Time rhymes with infinite,
and yet what bud, once blown, may Lethe's night
turn into cheerful dawn? In pawn our souls
grasp straws too soon foreclosed as pauper, knight
descend from scope to end, ambition's blight.
no traveller returns to stoke life's coals...
Can purblind moth reeled onwards to bright wick,
in fretful riot weave round warning flame,
of its will still frenetic dance to pick
hair point dividing failure from fame.
Where 'heart to heart though far apart' would lick
the ice cream cone affection offers, tame
turns wild when 'absence fonder heart' draws, lame
familiarity breeds... fiddlestick! ,
counters good intents in heaven's name
to pave the road to hell's dark tocsin tick.
Winged inspiration sheds both fear and shame,
rings true through recognition trust not trick
must spin lens' wheels which stitch life's photo frame.
Attraction linking on a higher plane
removes the need for questions', answers', rei[g]n.
We strut upon Life’s page, whatever claim
each stakes is soon revoked as Time, untrue
to first impressions, modifies life’s game,
tints contact lenses we think we see through.
Observe vain beauty’s triumph on youth’s stage
feel force turn age, through rage lose sage control, -
One sees how Faust to Satan could engage
essentials of an ‘everlasting soul’.
Today, tomorrow, past and future, merge
within time's haze as days from daze advance,
now dart, now part, now urge, now purge, now surge,
in tango of contango spurred by 'Chance'.
If candle represents both Life and Time,
Man’s Fate is fall preceded by vain climb.
One wonders if attraction offers clues
to questions, answers, - existential lure, -
both waiting in gestation to refuse,
accept, delay, pay, play as sinecure.
Is fantasy what we affection name
as love which hand in glove with need sounds sweet,
attenuates life’s jungle’s ruthless game,
and tints the lover’s glasses lest we cheat
Death’s threats through disillusion premature.
Destiny's spun thread sped Time must cut
for reasons which to mortals seem obscure,
which fit in puzzle pattern's piecemeal rut
to knit tomorrows which mature too fast
as all at last acknowledge naught can last.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Stringy-Bark Tree
There's the whitebox and pine on the ridges afar,
Where the iron-bark, blue-gum, and peppermint are;
There is many another, but dearest to me,
And the king of them all was the stringy-bark tree.
Then of stringy-bark slabs were the walls of the hut,
And from stringy-bark saplings the rafters were cut;
And the roof that long sheltered my brothers and me
Was of broad sheets of bark from the stringy-bark tree.
And when sawn-timber homes were built out in the West,
Then for walls and for ceilings its wood was the best;
And for shingles and palings to last while men be,
There was nothing on earth like the stringy-bark tree.
Far up the long gullies the timber-trucks went,
Over tracks that seemed hopeless, by bark hut and tent;
And the gaunt timber-finder, who rode at his ease,
Led them on to a gully of stringy-bark trees.
Now still from the ridges, by ways that are dark,
Come the shingles and palings they call stringy-bark;
Though you ride through long gullies a twelve months you’ll see
But the old whitened stumps of the stringy-bark tree.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Open Your Eyes
Youve got a great imagination
You carry on in the same old way
No lessons learned from yesterday
Talk of changes lost in pages of paperwork
I believe it...
How can we refuse to see
Ive received it...
What could be our final destiny
I believe that...
Still we go on from day to day
Knowing what could be true
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Open your eyes and discover
Youre not the only one
In disguise
Do you wonder
When the change is gonna come?
Open your eyes
Youve got a great imagination
We cast the world, we set the stage
For what could be the darkest age
Short exchanges
From perfect strangers
Well never know
But wish we knew
I believe it...
Its time to face reality
Ive received it...
Questioning the powers that be
I believe it...
Are we too confused to see?
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Open your eyes and discover
Youre not the only one
In disguise
Do you wonder
When the change is gonna come?
Open your eyes
Youve got a great imagination
Open your eyes
Show it
Show it
[gtr]
Wish we knew
I believe it...
Its time to face reality
Ive received it...
Things arent what they used to be
I believe it...
What I see in you, you see in me
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Open your eyes and discover
Youre not the only one
In disguise
Do you wonder
When the change is gonna come?
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Youve got a great imagination
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Youve got a sweet imagination
Change is gonna come
Open your eyes
Change is gonna come
Open your eyes
Change is gonna come
Youve got a deep imagination coming
Show it
Show it
Show it
Show it
Show it
Show it
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Your Eyes
Youve got a great imagination
You carry on in the same old way
No lessons learned from yesterday
Talk of changes lost in pages of paperwork
I believe it...
How can we refuse to see
Ive received it...
What could be our final destiny
I believe that...
Still we go on from day to day
Knowing what could be true
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Open your eyes and discover
Youre not the only one
In disguise
Do you wonder
When the change is gonna come?
Open your eyes
Youve got a great imagination
We cast the world, we set the stage
For what could be the darkest age
Short exchanges
From perfect strangers
Well never know
But wish we knew
I believe it...
Its time to face reality
Ive received it...
Questioning the powers that be
I believe it...
Are we too confused to see?
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Open your eyes and discover
Youre not the only one
In disguise
Do you wonder
When the change is gonna come?
Open your eyes
Youve got a great imagination
Open your eyes
Show it
Show it
[gtr]
Wish we knew
I believe it...
Its time to face reality
Ive received it...
Things arent what they used to be
I believe it...
What I see in you, you see in me
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Open your eyes and discover
Youre not the only one
In disguise
Do you wonder
When the change is gonna come?
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Youve got a great imagination
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Change is gonna come
Youve got a sweet imagination
Change is gonna come
Open your eyes
Change is gonna come
Open your eyes
Change is gonna come
Youve got a deep imagination coming
Show it
Show it
Show it
Show it
Show it
Show it
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Course of Life, Time, And Events and The Process of Change
Time or fate may separate friends, lovers,
But friendship or love that's true will ever
Thenceforth continue to live forever,
True love conquers the odd with its power.
As time passes by, things change with the time,
Every moment, hour, day, month, and year,
All things have their turn to change with the time,
Life, time, and events change with the years.
Everyone, everything, have a time and day,
A time to change, end, begin a new day,
Change is life, the course of life everyday,
All things change, and we change with them all days.
Only the Eternal one is constant,
All things in the universe, inconstant,
But despite it all, love is important,
The world may change, but true love is constant.
poem by Merlin Archivilla
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A Song Of Success
Ho! we were strong, we were swift, we were brave.
Youth was a challenge, and Life was a fight.
All that was best in us gladly we gave,
Sprang from the rally, and leapt for the height.
Smiling is Love in a foam of Spring flowers:
Harden our hearts to him -- on let us press!
Oh, what a triumph and pride shall be ours!
See where it beacons, the star of success!
Cares seem to crowd on us -- so much to do;
New fields to conquer, and time's on the wing.
Grey hairs are showing, a wrinkle or two;
Somehow our footstep is losing its spring.
Pleasure's forsaken us, Love ceased to smile;
Youth has been funeralled; Age travels fast.
Sometimes we wonder: is it worth while?
There! we have gained to the summit at last.
Aye, we have triumphed! Now must we haste,
Revel in victory . . . why! what is wrong?
Life's choicest vintage is flat to the taste --
Are we too late? Have we laboured too long?
Wealth, power, fame we hold . . . ah! but the truth:
Would we not give this vain glory of ours
For one mad, glad year of glorious youth,
Life in the Springtide, and Love in the flowers.
poem by Robert William Service
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Baby's Birthday
G.T.A.
BEFORE your life that is to come,
Love stands with eager eyes, that vainly
Seek to discern what gift may fit
The slow unfolding years of it;
And still Time's lips are sealed and dumb,
And still Love sees no future plainly.
We cannot guess what flowers will spring
Best in your garden, bloom most brightly;
But some fair flowers in any plot
Will spring and grow, and wither not;
And such wish-flowers we gladly bring,
And in that small hand lay them lightly.
Baby, we wish that those dear eyes
May see fulfilment of our dreaming,
Those little feet may turn from wrong,
Those hands to hold the right be strong,
That heart be pure, that mind be wise
To know the true from the true-seeming.
We wish that all your life may be
A life of selfless brave endeavour--
That for reward the fates allow
Such love as lines your soft nest now
To warm the years for you, when we,
Who wish you this, are cold for ever.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Untainted - 1366 - response to Mara Kirk Hart - Tainted
Although the road least taken
is one best left alone
when true h[e]art feels forsaken,
cut feelings, to the bone.
Although when skewed, mistaken,
joys curdle, grief is sown,
with challenge undertaken
who'd spice or bite bemoan?
Why self-destruct? no flicker
no flame, no pain, remain,
and lust unlucked fades quicker
than light, shan't rise again.
Teeth vampire? What is sicker
than blood turned muddy drain?
What's worth the rosebud liquor
returns to earth the brain?
Leave nightmares and awaken
from fears which turn to stone.
If not save face, save bacon,
for you there waits true [thr]one!
Honey, with faith unshaken,
to lemon tears too prone,
find new way which, when taken,
mind light leaves, dark unknown!
Tainted
You know the road less taken
Is one best left alone
All the joys you feel are skewed
You need the bite, the spice
To self-destruct in a flicker
Of flame, of pain, of lust
Your vampire teeth wait hidden
Beneath a rosebud mouth
Temperance no longer an option
Sweet sleep-nightmares you cherish
Honey is too cloying,
You'll take yours with some lemon
And a love too pure
And stinking of heaven
Will be passed by.
For your love has a darker side
You seek the soft underbelly of life
Most people avoid.
(16 March 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inner Life
Life hangs on life inner,
It corroded the life we have told,
Just death brings all time a shove,
Then shovels and buckets are of colours,
The life has gained me a prize of streams of life.
It was geometric progression on a massive scale,
It was beautiful breaking an oath now.
Life has bent its head on the body of joy,
An exact opposite of the heavenly bodies in space,
In space you read a sign.
In space you have life, life is away,
Like the living ones who discuss their nightmares.
Of this life then the living know meaningful dreams,
Dreams of life have sung joyously like a statue and sculptor.
Life has inner quality,
And we agree to the quality that brings joy.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love To Hate You
Im crazy flowing over with ideas
A thousand ways to woo a lover so sincere
Love and hate what a beautiful combination
Sending shivers up and down my spine
For every casanova that appears
My sense of hesitation disappears
Love and hate what a beautiful combination
Sending shivers up and down my spine
And the lovers that you sent for me
Didnt come with any satisfaction guarantee
So I return them to the sender
And the note attached will read
How I love to hate you
I love to hate you
I love to hate you
I love to hate you
Oh you really still expect me to believe
Every single letter I receive
Sorry you what a shameful situation
Sending shivers up and down my spine
Oh I like to read of murder mystery
I like to know the killer isnt me
Love and hate what a beautiful combination
Sending shivers make me quiver
Feel it sliver up and down my spine
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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