Jonathan ROBIN Poems

The frog comes
on little toed feet.
...

Surface calm enfolds
the hidden tiger
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Sleeplessness swallows slumber,
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In this world and of this world,
we wonder whence we came and where to
morrow we will soon be whirled
through three score years and ten. Prepare! Two
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Depression. Not darkness of living,
but absolute absence of motivation
...

Coppers killed me when we met,
jumping on the tube I sat in;
Magistrate, who loves to get
treats into your list, put that in!
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Poets finger frequencies chromatic
which few imagine, fuse into our days,
...

Another day Man loses Time has gained,
played out its phase and yet rephrased its song,
renaissance of a theme-dream echo strong,
shared soul-song unimpaired and unrestrained.
...

A copper beech stands out on meadow green,
the hand of God draws colour to viewed scene:
...

Impediments lament
not in themselves, content
...