Jonathan ROBIN Poems

Modern philosophy anon
will, at the rate its rushing on,
yoke lightning to the railroad car,
and posting like a shooting star,
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One or 'n' thousand yawning dead,
and millions more without a home,
while widows, dowerless, must roam
with no soft pillow for the head,
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Music spurs hearts tender fonder
Amalgamation while minds wonder;
Unw[e]ary, inks links as thoughts wander
Deep through regions far and yonder,
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Life, like the winds which transient image weave,
A mirage watered down, drowned by time's wave,
Taunts time tracks, tacky triumphs mocks. Most leave
Existence traceless, greet untimely grave.
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Light strikes, by chance, one must confess,
A damsel, and some hidden hand
Unveils a latent loveliness
Revealed: emotions understand.
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To tie me to this tiresome task
no reasons real remain,
save sloth, indignity, and worse,
profit from fortune's fame.
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Without him life hangs on a whim, missed cue, as bit role stumbles,
bitter pill popped, swilled, heart cropped, down hole whole soul sole tumbles.
Angst's weight frustrations magnifies, wraith faith can't comfort, care,
existence seems unjustified, dreams darken, dread despair
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Unprepossessing, pensive, positive positron posting posthaste primes self-expression's impressions, seeks beyond existential sessions to process process within reason through temporal processions outside pseudo karmic intercessions.

Insight transcends the dotted line both online and off, on course for resourceful concordance dancing out of and through chromatic pixel constellations.
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Must life's train be constrained, vain self contain,
May self-effacement ease heartache, disdain?
Must mirage rain slake lost-in-desert bane,
May dreams' ream verse bring love to life again?
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Gustav and Hanna make one pretty pair
Under age, should anybody care?
Sat a light? In shadows they advance.
The one tracks west the other east by chance
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