Jonathan ROBIN Poems

Turning from pelf,
I leave to find fresh lodgings,
Discovery of self.
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PEDANT

Waste high in patent bindings which to dust
soon homage pay, dry humbug pedants sneeze,
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Narrow the world, with very little scope
Inside its boundaries for warring creed.
Now seed, now bloom, now dead in word and deed,
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Man often will disparage what he can't
Accept, control, admit or integrate.
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For generations, since prehistory,
Life rising symbolised the soul’s redemption.
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Alarm call signal beeps, wakes life to hope.
While vague, untidy heap stirs, seeking soap.
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You give your verse a prosy st[r]ain,
with stress complete the air,
but vain attempts too often strain
and stress is in the air.
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You ask again, I'm feeling even worse,
again the morning mail has brought more bills,
their influence on mind I find perverse
while work falls kind of outside all my skills.
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The world, when wide, demanded empires vast.
Economies of scale appeared to be
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