Jonathan ROBIN Poems

For the future
we shall see.
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Most answers naught important show, though I
answers seek beyond doors padlocked tight, -
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He spins cooked wheel with crookèd hands,
close[d]) to true sum in sunny lands,
ring’d by a green baize world, he stands.
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Incorporating verse in gilded frame
Does not, as such, suffice, - vice to conform.
Each should follow conscience, - smile, rile, charm, scorn,
Open communication’s blinds. The aim: -
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When the votes were counted, conform with their little crosses,
with the ballot-boxes lying empty
like empty promises splashed over a Westminster canvas,
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Open the pages, though the story’s end
Lies shrouded in a future closed to me,
In step with Time, to whose will all must bend,
Voyage which spirals to eternity.
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Freedoms four he saw, that here, - from fear -
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Jingle verse enjoy. In reversed jest
our game is hid - no orchestra in song, -
no signature, as no fit, link, strung strong
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Yes, the clock ticks downhill all the way,
until the very end.
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Define faithfulness:
Hope's triumph over Experience,
fear of loneliness
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