Unlimited Reflections - 0848 - Current Version

Here follows an anthology to bring
enjoyment true, one world view versed in rhyme,
unlimited reflections over time
matured by mind whose searching soul would sing,
nursing ambitions empathy should string,
except most care not, - neither nickle, dime.
Listen to intuition's bells' strong chime
imprinting echo etched on soul, whose ring
may never fail, to nothing fade. Time's sting
outcast as shared experiences climb
up past extrapolations vague, masqued mime.
Just twenty six swift soldiers' ink link lines
recast lead die, redrawing causal signs.

(4 March 2009)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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You Were Mine

When you were mine
I held some reason and rhyme
A Jacobs ladder to climb
Sweet days of roses and wine.
Back then our hearts were new
As newborn stars turned out to view
That restless ocean of blue.
Our souls kissed once
And flew.
When you were mine
And we would sit, candlelit
And dine
That laughter of another another time
Those harmonies that
Now i can only mime.
Tears always follow after love sublime
The hollow silence of decline.
That heartbreak in slow motion
Yet I say that I'm just fine
God, what gave me the notion

[...] Read more

poem by Kevin East
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Windows

As I look through the reflective window,
The glass multiplies my incantation.
It's as if some strange ghost of myself shows
Itself by transposition's migration
Further into a faint transparency,
Further into a smeared blotch of colors
That blend with the bucolic scenery.
I make a distortion of this nature.
I pantomime myself five times or more—
Four times that I can recognize my face.
What must I replicate my movements for?
Why must my shadow mutate throughout space?
I gaze at the outside world. There, I find
Another portrait in-between two minds.

poem by Tim Stensloff
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Waiting in the Sunset (Sonnet 7)

The moment I hear the waves crash and tear
At the walls of my shelter, slowly worn
Slowly giving way, with little to spare
Little to gain from the old, dead and torn
The moment I take flight; the moment sworn
The moment I see that tasteful sunset
That beautiful glance at your face adorned
With colors gleaming, fading; I regret
I hang me head lowly I just can't let
You slip away this one last tempting time
I have to savor the moment I met
You, words could not pantomime
The one moment I could receive you fading
Fading in the sunset, I have to stop waiting

poem by Robert Lawrence
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A Living Soul

Anxiety was touching the mime
I cannot hold a reality.
We were playing with each other.

The creation and hunger of living
takes you to unknown fields
I am, what I am not.

Always bluffing, puffing on the road,
counting the milestones
in reverse osmosis,
feeling proud of mighty mistakes,
talking to faltered ego,
going against the sun.

My climate merges with hot desert
A story reappears again and again
like a dried skeleton in sands.

How long I will run

[...] Read more

poem by Satish Verma
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I See My Own Demise

Anxiety was touching the mime
I cannot hold a reality.
We were playing with each other.

The creation and hunger of living
takes you to unknown fields
I am, what I am not.

Always bluffing, puffing on the road,
counting the milestones
in reverse osmosis,
feeling proud of mighty mistakes,
talking to faltered ego,
going against the sun.

My climate merges with hot desert
A story reappears again and again
like a dried skeleton in sands.

How long I will run

[...] Read more

poem by Satish Verma
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Abaude: Your Eyes

"In an age where there is much talk about ‘being yourself, ' I reserve to myself the right to forget about being myself." Thomas Merton

When I look into the mirror
I see the perfect mime,
moving left or right, mimicing
my vanity as I comb thinning hair,
check wrinkled skin for new blemish,
try figure out who I am;

but when I look into your eyes
I see long drives, mountain roads
rising to clouds, ocean mist
washing clean the highest pines
as the eastern sky
grows bright with
morning.

Your eyes
enfold me.

[...] Read more

poem by Steven Federle
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Dust to Dust We Go

DUST TO DUST WE GO

Dawn saw fame borne away to flame no more
Undone our time, light's boon, for dust bests fun -
Sun's one hour rhyme, - night's soon sure, rust rests run.
Torn core, aims shorn, waylays true name so poor.
Thorn store shames born day's plays, few claim crow - chore
Once spun power mimes fight, loon scores crust, jest done.
Dunce - shun tower chimes' rite, noon whores' lust, gest stun.
Unpure frame, worn, frays, pays - too tame, shows flaw.
Scorn pour, lame mourn, praise phase new, game grows bore,

Turns tunnel dower, limelight’s floor just crest dun.
Won shone flower rimes, trite croon caw bust, Quest? none!
End: forlorn blame gaze stays acclaim, slows roar.
Glory for soul, some say life sends gold key,
Or we poor, sole, dumb pray strife ends, goal flee.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Verse is Not Magic

Verse is not magic even though at times
as reader, writer surf together, cue
links through patterns shared, decoding clue,
enter into spirit of the rhymes.
Register chromatic tempting climbs
in/through spectral intensity, each hue
emotions keys no rainbow ever knew.
Voice finds expression, symphony sublime.
Although some stays unpolished ‘tis no crime
life recognizes where the spirit’s true,
empathy encouraging. How few
remain to shine beyond vain pantomime?
If letters can combine to stir the soul
each line threads through all parts, creates true whole...

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Coincidence

Coincidence is seen when into place
life slips its puzzle pieces for a time.
Awareness grows. Beneath another clime -
which still seems hidden - we met face to face.
Can dreams thread unseen signals, interlace
existence past and present, future, climb
consciousness’s barriers to rhyme
light and laughter, bright hereafter trace,
and karmic correspondance interface?
Unique potential? Human pantomime,
denies the base that smothers in its slime ~
Eternity awaits shared choice unchased.
‘Chance’ can catalyze twin hearts to grow
together, perfect symbiosis know.

poem by Jonathan Robin
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An_thology - Acrostic Sonnet

Adjoined is an anthology to bring
New enjoyment, world-view versed in rhyme,
Natural reflections over time
Engendered by a mind whose soul would sing
A word or two to string in golden ring
Necklace bound by no known chain, whose chime
Never fails to tune a bell sublime.
Emotions, shared, reverberate. Time’s swing
At last is counterbalanced, and its sting
No longer palls as phrases fuse and climb
Now past all past experience, masqued mime: -
Enchanted insight’s flight on poet’s wing!
Just twenty six the soldiers are whose line
Rekindles hope for scope, draws from each sign.

poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Child at War!

No bell, No warning, no flare, surrounded!
I see them all, blood in their eyes
I see the innocence deep within
There is no escape, one by one, away we march.

Young at heart, young at mind
We walk small, we talk small
Through the thicket through the river
Act weak, your throat is slit,
Look weak, you see no mercy.

I close my eyes, I see too much
Yesterday, the church hymns, my ABC's
Tomorrow, armed for combat.

Full of innocence, timid at heart
Off we go, but soon to return,
Full of courage, devoid of innocence,
Strong at heart, ready to mime,
Mummy, Daddy please forgive me!

poem by Macwolls Kay
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The Mock Self

Few friends are mine, though many wights there be
Who, meeting oft a phantasm that makes claim
To be myself, and hath my face and name,
And whose thin fraud I wink at privily,
Account this light impostor very me.
What boots it undeceive them, and proclaim
Myself myself, and whelm this cheat with shame?
I care not, so he leave my true self free,
Impose not on me also; but alas!
I too, at fault, bewildered, sometimes take
Him for myself, and far from mine own sight,
Torpid, indifferent, doth mine own self pass;
And yet anon leaps suddenly awake,
And spurns the gibbering mime into the night.

poem by William Watson
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Lotto Life Spin

Addict rue bought
in check out line motion
five dollars worth
of elixir dreamtime potion.
Absorbent sacred numbered ball spinning...
purchased from holy grail line magic machine;
state blueprint sly sucker pantomime taxation...
proliferating pie in sky get rich quick dreams.

Attendant shop priestesses
minimal menial minions pillage;
operating lotto outlet shrines
serve worshipers paying hopeless homage.
Apollo’s oracle precisely programmed
speaks chosen erratic prophesy package;
in electronic statistical lines formulated
randomly selected spun ball bondage.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Conqueror Worm

[Young Poe:]
Lo! 't is a gala night
A mystic throng bedecked
Sit in a theater to see
A play of hopes and fears
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres
Mimes, mutter and mumble low
Mere puppets they, who come and go
Disguised as gods
They shift the scenery to and fro
Inevitably trapped by invisible Wo
This motley drama
to be sure
Will not be forgotten
A phantom chased for evermore
Never seized by the crowd
Through they circle
Returning to the same spot
Circle and return to the selfsame spot

[...] Read more

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rapid Rises, Faster Falls 1368 Sandrine Bonnant after William Shakespeare Sonnet CVI

Should in the chronicles of wasted time
A line be writ to underline this jest,
No explanations for this pantomime
Deserve a space within your treasure chest.
Rapid rises favour faster falls
If fancies tacked intacted aren't backed in fact.
Now, looking back, the exercise appals, -
Ego boosting brainstorm which has lacked
Bona fide motives? Yet I'll now
Offer explanation of its cause -
No painful line I'd bring to stainless brow!
November show flow favoured, none ignores
A stimulation where all senses wide awake
Tune into you with trust Time shall not break!

(13 November 2004)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sonnet: God Decides Our Earthly-life

I sought a dollar, got a penny just;
I sought a penny, found dollar instead;
I sought a lover, got a load of lust;
I sought but lust yet, got a soul to wed.

The things we seek, don't happen in our time;
The things we search are found neither our way;
The things we see, we cannot always mime;
The things we want, we get some other day.

Man's labour long and plans evade fruition;
God's blessings come just like a waterfall;
The ways of God defies any diction;
He cares for all creatures mighty and small.

Our patience gives us success or defeat,
A man who's blest can walk life-time bare-feet.

poem by John Celes
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Life

What know we of the dead, who say these things,
Or of the life in death below the mould--
What of the mystic laws that rule the old
Grey realms beyond our poor imaginings
Where death is life? The bird with spray-wet wings
Knows more of what the deeps beneath him hold.
Let be! Warm hearts shall never wax a-cold,
But burn in roses through eternal springs;
For all the vanished fruit and flower of Time
Are flower and fruit in worlds we cannot see,
And all we see is as a shadow-mime
Of things unseen, and Time that comes to flee
Is but the broken echo of a rhyme
In God's great epic of Eternity.

poem by Victor James Daley
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Bubble Bray - 0822 - Current Version

Time's muzzle mocks ambitions. Day by day,
through life's incessant dream theme ebb and flow,
efforts, unrewarded, seem vain show.
Effects' and causes' subtle interplay
none may control, - coincidence at play
enacts a chance dance time mime stop and go
whose pattern frame spins into vertigo
flaking dates and energy away.
Harmony and Chance Time's tides obey,
cannot be reined, restrained, nor string nor bow
fires through some causal bull's eye to echo
sense sustained. Profane, with bubble bray,
most blow hot, cold on stage, then sink unheard
before they even feel flow's ripples stirred.

(9 April 2008)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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What Sanctity...? ...

T he dawn is part of pattern webs which spin
O ut from the past and not from future fate,
A nd may Time mime, itself anticipate?
C an far horizons scan the span within?
T he wind won’t carry inkling whispers in
O pen echo unfurled in single trait.
R esponse to whom? to what? When? Early? Late?
N ew strength unveiled, by star signs sent to bait
O ne Cause or one Effect, - to end? begin?
T he story feeds from song or need to sing?
O ne’s need to heed the lied, lead on, create
U rgent vistas which can compensate
DRE aded hole inside inside’s dammed spring,
AMA zing grace to help face everything?

poem by Jonathan Robin
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