Treasure Island

Jonathan ROBIN

(22 September / London)

Friend Fiend Ship


Far past, false future, seem the same
Representing in life's game
Indifference, too hard to tame,
External trappings frame by frame
Now here, now there. Prepare, fair dame,
Death which life swallows, trace of name
Sudden fades. Life's rush-hour train
Heeds none, pain, fun, nor sin, nor blame,
Ideals of virtue went and came.
Plastic mirage few retain:
For some short space we stake our claim
In search for perch, yet joy and bane
Exist outside man's plans too lame,
Nor can they last. Life's candle flame?
Dream guttered soon for John and Jane.

Submitted: Monday, June 10, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

(28 February 2009)

Comments about this poem (Friend Fiend Ship by Jonathan ROBIN )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. My hero(Bob Dylan), Mario,Lucien,Rene Odekerken
  2. Azal se aashna..., Azhar Sabri
  3. Going For Gold, Angela Wybrow
  4. A Tragic Fairy Tale, Pankti Vadalia
  5. Sealed Lips, Tony Adah
  6. Autumn, Mario,Lucien,Rene Odekerken
  7. Reasons Not To Visit Dachau, Leslie Philibert
  8. St. Valentine's Day, Edgar Albert Guest
  9. Pleasure's Signs, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. Bud Discusses Cleanliness, Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]