Jonathan ROBIN (22 September / London)
Free Verse Fails
Flowery tracks disuse attacks, forsaken are by all but weeds.
Restating harmony and form, modernity sows mutant seeds.
Estranged outpourings of lost souls lose touch with life rejecting rhyme,
Excising zest which stood the test, that spanned vicissitudes of time.
Verse draws its force from intercourse divine which intuition feeds,
Extending more by fits and starts than leaps and bounds, but healthy breeds
Responses in the innter heart, the soul that seeks no empty climb,
Sensing the need to feel and feed the flame of an enlightened clime.
Ephemera now litter presses, most express a bitter creed,
For words are symbols, cymbals strong, colours the poet’s palette needs,
And sudden subtle tender touches cover surface smutches’ crime
In that they reach out, transfer, teach thought processes in pantomime.
Let go, transcend this blanket trend, so each may feel truth as he reads
Sensations that emotions free, key into rune that rhyming feeds.
(4 October 1991)
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