Jonathan ROBIN Poems

Where cash reasons not rhymes one would seize on
where interest not principles pays,
there brash fees feed the fire as the season
from 'spring' through the 'fall' counts the days.
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Some sonnets upon sonnets poets write
Offering examples of their skill,
Need neither censure nor false praise to fill
New chapter, verse, in ego's copyright.
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If you can keep your cheese while few about you
are holding onto theirs', all envy ease.
If none can get your goat nor cow could doubt you
your scent which, heaven sent, can tell true Bries
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PRIORITIES

Today’s priorities tomorrow fade,
dissolved, distorted by Time's tug of war.
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They say display of blindman's bluff,
verse accolades to gain,
limp lines time challenge long enough
won't find their waiting vain.
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No Curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
no lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
though plowman homeward plods his weary way,
world sinks to darkness underneath the sea.
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So sweet, so smooth, silk soft her voice’s tone
the Damn’d rejoice, their souls no choice but moan,
must hearken to her, [strumming in her chamber],
muse melting melodies through lutes of amber.
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While chimney's logged lips
purse around the flaming tongue,
Spring rain, spitting, drips.
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Empathy's attained
neither greed, nor need for speed,
joy uncontained

Empathy we reach
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