His Friends Are More Than Fond Of Robin
(carly simon)
His friends are more than fond of robin
He doesnt need to compliment them
And always as he leaves he leaves them
Feeling proud just to know him
When robin goes on holiday
Theres no-one livin in our lane
Oh yes, folks still live in our lane
But theyre not like robin
Robin, Ive never told you
But Ill be yours until were old
Please learn to call me in your dreams
The way Im lookin at you is just as it seems
Hes talked about before he gets there
Though he can never understand it
And I wouldnt like to be his alone
But Im shy and cant demand it
But when robin gives his love to others
Theres no-one living in my heart
Oh yes, I keep others in my heart
But theyre not like robin
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Robin Redbreast
Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our Thrushes now are silent,
Our Swallows flown away, --
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And welaway! my Robin,
For pinching times are near.
The fireside for the Cricket,
The wheatstack for the Mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow, --
Alas! in Winter, dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
poem by William Allingham
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The Robin.
little red robin outside the glass
catching all the rain on a dreary day
i knew nothing of his past
but i felt familiar with him anyway
red-chest robin with his face in the dirt
all his friends were slimy little worms
he called the dry, thin twigs his perch
mothers keep your kids away; he’s crawling with germs
little red robin, how could you be
the brown-mask bandit of the maple tree
little red robin, can you hear my plea –
get down from up high before you feel too free
i knew it couldn’t belong until the sprig would break
a grim “cheerio! ” to the world he cried
his little red soul then the lord did take
when he swooped into the pane and died
Who Am I?
(1950) leonard bernstein
Who am i
Who am i
Was it all planned in advance
Or was I just born by chance in july
Who on earth am i
My friends only think of fun
Theyre such a curious a lot
Must I be the only one
Who thinks these mysterious thoughts
Some day Ill die
Will I ever live again
As a mountain lion
Or a rooster, a hen
Or a robin, or a wren, or a fly
Oh, who am i
Do you believe in reincarnation
Do you believe in reincarnation
Were you ever here before
Have you ever had dreams
That you knew were true
Some time before in your life
Have you ever had that experience
So you must question
All the truths that you know
All the love and the life
That you know and say
Who am i
Will I ever live again
As a mountain lion
Or a rooster, a hen
Or a robin, or a wren, or a fly
If Im one of those lives
That have been reincarnated again
And again, and again
Oh, who am i
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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First Robin of Spring
Today heard a beautiful
sound, it was up in a tree,
sitting on a branch so alone,
spring is near by.
As my first robin to
see is looking down
on me, so peacefully,
robins are a sure sign,
warm weather is on its way,
a new start, new beginning,
beautiful sounds coming
from this beautiful robin.
Winter so cold, so long,
snow almost all gone,
spring flowers just
a stone throw away.
Dear robin you bring such
joy and comfort to my
heart listening to you,
your welcome here anytime.
wrote 3-14-07
Rocket Robin Hood
Come gather around me. Space travelers surround me.
Hark now to the ballad of Rocket Robin Hood.
I may well confound you, astound you, spellbound you,
With heroes and villains, the bad and the good.
Watch now as our rockets race here from afar.
For now, with our Robin, we live on a star.
Three. Two. One. Blast off!
Band of brothers, marching together.
Heads held high in all kinds of weather.
With fiery blasts, our roaring rockets rise,
Beyond the Earth, beyond the skies!
At the sight of Robin, take your stand,
With the gallant leader of our band.
Send a joyous shout throughout the land!
For Rocket Robin Hood!
poem by Todd Steussie
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Robin had always wanted to go solo, so when it happened I wasn't angry at all. I understood the situation. But Barry is so full of pride and couldn't understand why Robin had done it.
quote by Maurice Gibb
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robin
Robin perched on twisted branch;
Sun reflected branches,
Sparkling morning light
Take in the moment;
As it flies by.
Robin twittering on a twisted post;
Cool breeze blowing leaves,
Cross this winters floor.
Spend a moment,
As it flies by.
Robin perched on spade handle;
Fluffs up his breast,
Against the winters morn.
Take moment, trap it
As it flies by.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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The Robin is the One
828
The Robin is the One
That interrupt the Morn
With hurried—few—express Reports
When March is scarcely on—
The Robin is the One
That overflow the Noon
With her cherubic quantity—
An April but begun—
The Robin is the One
That speechless from her Nest
Submit that Home—and Certainty
And Sanctity, are best
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Surf..fing
Should quantum froth be found to correspond
to energy renewable released
my man-maid magma sloughing off despond,
survival of the fittest's moving feast
would surge out from its sub primeval pond
through urge to merge on higher planes till, ceased,
time's tide: round robin's ride beyond beyond...
[c] Jonathan Robin written 16 June 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Where is that robin?
sing winging through new haiku
wild rhymes a bobbing
haiku by Jonathan Robin (24 October 2006)
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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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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
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What Does It Show
What does it show
When a cold wind does blow
And a robin, sings you a song,
Are you in love
Or are you just a hug
Looking for a love for so long.
So what does it mean
After that you have seen
A robing singing a song,
Do you think of the past
And the love you thought would last
And think of the love that ran away,
So when you listen to the robin
And do you feel your heart throbbing
To a scene, you have received.
And while the cold wind just blows
And while the river still flows
Your feelings just grows and grow,
And if your sitting by the river
To a cold wind you begin to shiver
As you think of the things you've seen,
And the robin only sings
And in the mind her heart rings
To the feeling that you have been,
So sing her a song
And with you she’ll sing along
With you, and the world aloud.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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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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When we write, we complement each other. We wrote six songs, Barry and I, while Robin was ill during the American tour, and they were terrible until Robin came back, and then everything worked out.
quote by Maurice Gibb
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dreamt Of Robin
I opened the casement this morn at starlight,
And, the moment I got out of bed,
The daisies were quaking about in their white
And the cowslip was nodding its head.
The grass was all shivers, the stars were all bright,
And Robin that should come at e'en--
I thought that I saw him, a ghost by moonlight,
Like a stalking horse stand on the green.
I went bed agen and did nothing but dream
Of Robin and moonlight and flowers.
He stood like a shadow transfixed by a stream,
And I couldn't forget him for hours.
I'd just dropt asleep when I dreamed Robin spoke,
And the casement it gave such a shake,
As if every pane in the window was broke;
Such a patter the gravel did make.
So I up in the morning before the cock crew
And to strike me a light I sat down.
I saw from the door all his track in the dew
And, I guess, called 'Come in and sit down.'
And one, sure enough, tramples up to the door,
And who but young Robin his sen?
And ere the old folks were half willing to stir
We met, kissed, and parted agen.
poem by John Clare
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Upon Mrs Eliz. Wheeler, Under The Name Ofamarillis
Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's
Soft and soul-melting murmurings,
Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew
A Robin-red-breast; who at view,
Not seeing her at all to stir,
Brought leaves and moss to cover her:
But while he, perking, there did pry
About the arch of either eye,
The lid began to let out day,--
At which poor Robin flew away;
And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved,
He chirpt for joy, to see himself deceived.
poem by Robert Herrick
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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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Robin
Robin and Robin!
Come to my cabin.
We can play in
With fuss and fun.
You can fly being gay
And catch insect prey.
As you like you play:
I won’t be in the way.
A beauty is your tail.
How ably you waggle!
When in air you sail
You are not fragile.
When you sing a song,
By your tail you clang.
You hold it upright,
Swing it down to spread
And gather it up
Like a drum beat,
Much in a rhythm
To your crooning rhyme.
Black in white is good.
White in black is good.
You’re black and white
And are superbly bright.
Chest and dorsal are black.
Ventral is velvet white.
Wings too bear white
You are white by black.
Koel like is Latha;
You are my Asha,
With look seductive
And voice captive.
You are nice to sing..
You’re nicer by wing.
Love, can you spring?
I love you, Robin.
With me, you are free.
Anytime you can flee.
I make you happy
When you are with me.
Don’t feel it a sin
To be with me in.
You will have fun,
Which is your win
Robin and Robin!
Come to my cabin.
I’ll play a tune.
You rest and preen.
28.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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