Jonathan ROBIN Poems

I think I think I'm really me,
I'm me, who looks through God each day
when venturing to fight life's fray.
I'm free I think to think I'm free.
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Come dance, advance, no strings attached,
except of harp or violin,
authenticity unmatched
shall shed lies, ties that bred chagrin.
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If Space and Time through ages weigh
thing that have been or might
bear decay, Sun's seeming might
will flare then fade one day.
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Neutrality is rarely cup of tea.
where intelligence creative and aware
dare not stagnate, can't simply stop and stare.
Open mind needs true transparency,
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Raven hair and a cough,
pitiful painted smile,
through rain and in the rough
unhappy waiting while
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Autumn sunbeams light on wild wood track
Undulating over, under, through
The breezing branches, waving forwards, back.
Undergrowth shivers. Golden leaves bestrew
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DECIMAL POINTS


One minute here, hearsay the next,
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The Latest Decalogue

Worship one true God only, who would run to the expense of two?
Your ruin truly will ensue unless you heresy eschew.
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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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