Engulfed And Anchorless Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

ENGULFED & ANCHORLESS


Arrogant egocentricity masks fragile insecurity
comfort in blind certainty smacks shameless insincerity,
as often with dexterity men mask profound perplexity
quiddity's validity’s subjected to mor[t]ality.

Pandering to posterity maintains momentarily
conceptual fatuity that's self-indulgent vanity.
Vainglorious immaturity gifts mirror of futility
reflects upon majority's definition of/in sanity.

Human ingenuity wars Time's relentless enmity
entangled in complexity, self-circles contradictory,
abhors our core absurdity of death and of futurity.
What waits behind dark Door all flee?
Few dare discover g[u]ilt edged key.

Tomorrow's perpetuity beyond the veil, of “me and thee”,
green pasture's vale, vain vanity, stays hid, we kid not, jumping flea
is matrix man, mid grid at sea. One little lifetime's bumble bee
tumbles from pride's ride swiftly, cell refilled automatically.

Winged on one page of Destiny, love, amity and emity,
lend flashpoint sparkle too soon we abandon for eternity.
What's worth one wor[l]d's 'felicity' in country, city, land or sea,
when weighed against infinity time’s tide tear waves’ salinity...?

Archive deleted from man's memory
absorbs all constituting 'me and thee'.

. / .

Two who each other never knew -
though both ran out delinquency
some streets apart are past, and few
shall etch sketch wretched memory.
Two travelled on lines parallel
while wheeled real reel of history,
banned reel ran out span's tocsin bell
tolled once to tell eternity

‘Bonjour, ma mie, je t’aime, adieu! ’
The mocking bird of Destiny
nests but a moment. All falls through
before each earth-bound entity
grasp pain's pain glass a second, spell
life’s sensitivity to see
things in perspective ere Death’s knell
engulfs hopes in Styx misery.

Confined upon Earth’s ark our zoo
builds up its bars too readily.
Why all the fuss and bother to
paint rosy hues enticingly
when threescore ten years pass pell-mell,
too few attain vain century, -
and those that do weak souls would sell
for one more week’s dichotomy.

Upon Life’s cruise a motley crew
free choice demands, yet few feel free,
awash with superstitious spew,
how few refuse to bend the knee?
The ‘finger writes’ and then farewell!
A door to which there is no key
was ever veiled when curtains fell,
“and then no more of thee and me.”

‘Time out! ’ Reflection’s hard to chew
in context where modernity
accelerates change [st]range most rue,
soon redefines autonomy,
confines empowerment to brew
disinformation debility,
losing second thoughts’ review
of truth till last breath’s verity
renders verdict curlicue
on humankind’s inanity.

Climate out of kilter new
climactic catastrophe
prepares, ice-melt sends shockwaves through
foregone conclusions’ fallacy
increasing contradictions’ through
politically correct facility.

“Unto thyself be true” seems, too,
dream's motto meaningless. Beauty
and Truth are wi[n][d]owed points of view,
anchorless upon Time’s sea.
The generations ebb and swell,
compound their incongruity
in cycles which themselves repel –
rebel then crass conformity.

Time’s pendulum swings fro and to,
though now before “security”
some bow “engulfed”, sing red, white, blue,
with vibrant ingenuity:
tomorrow they may different spell
comittment to their liberty
when freedom shrinks its empty skin
and nought resists technology
as cyber cusp's bot nano twin
surpasses man's ability
'I am because I think' sinks sin
absorbed in singularity,
hilarity and joy win/win
[s]mothering angularity,


Truth and Untruth, as Heaven, Hell,
add selling pitch variety
constructing concepts which compel
respect towards ‘Society’.
With paradigm shift overdue
our superficial piety
most mustl see through, and not a few
shall challenge blind propriety.

Yet who am I or you to quell
such natural anxiety
when few self-doubting dare dispel
for fear of noteriety?
Refusing to salute on cue
crime may be judged, hyporcrisy, -
yet we need more than social glue
to feed our moral sanity.

To rut - that’s meant in senses two -
along allotted lines where the
links thread, commingling till Death’s due,
is parody of history, -
allows small space to trace the gel
of Life’s romantic mystery
when stem from embryonic cell
is cloned to standard quality.

Come Brave New World! where little new
occurs to stir controversy,
where each his stated task sees through
with difference held heresy,
where all together happy dwell,
where self-fulfillment finally
takes meaning, form, and where the
well of loneliness is filled for free...


19 April 2009 robi3_1885_robi3_0000 XXX_DJX

incorporates revises and expands Anchorless and Engulfed robi3_0230_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ 19881031 and “Hither hurried whence? 19881014 robi3_0229_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ


_____________________


ANCHORLESS & ENGULFED


Two who each other never knew - though both spent near a century
some streets apart are past, and few shall sketch their wretched memory.
Two travelled on lines parallel while wheeled the reel of history,
that reel ran out and then the bell rang once, - to tell eternity
‘Bonjour, ma mie, je t’aime, adieu! ’‘ The mocking bird of Destiny
nests but a moment. All falls through before each earth-bound entity
can through glass grasp a second well life’s sensitivity, may see
things in perspective ere Death’s knell engulfs all hopes in misery.

Confined upon Earth’s ark, our zoo builds up its bars too readily.
Why all the fuss and bother to paint rosy hues enticingly
when threescore ten pass on pell-mell and few attain their century, -
and those that do weak souls would sell for one more week’s insanity.
Upon Life’s cruise a motley crew free choice demands, yet few feel free,
awash with superstitious spew, how few refuse to bend the knee?
The ‘finger writes’ and then farewell! A door to which there is no key
was ever veiled when curtains fell, « and then no more of thee and me. »

« Unto thyself be true » is, too, a motto meaningless. Beauty
and Truth are wi[n][d]owed points of view, anchorless upon Time’s sea.
The generations ebb and swell, compound their incongruity
in cycles which themselves repel – rebel then crass conformity.
The pendulum swings fro and to, though now before “security”
some bow “engulfed”, sing red, white, blue, with vibrant ingenuity:
tomorrow they may different spell comittment to their liberty
when freedom shrinks its empty skin and nought resists technology.

Truth and Untruth, as Heaven, Hell, add selling pitch variety
constructing concepts which compel respect towards ‘Society’.
With paradigm shift overdue this superficial piety
most shill see through, and not a few shall challenge blind propriety.
Yet who am I or you to quell their natural anxiety
when few self doubts dare to dispel for fear of noteriety?
Refusing to salute on cue crime may be judged by vanity, -
yet we need more than social glue to feed our moral sanity.

To rut - that’s meant in senses two - along allotted lines where the
links thread, commingling till Death’s due, is parody of history, -
allows small space to trace and tell of Life’s romantic mystery
when stem from embryonic cell is cloned to standard quality.
Come Brave New World! where little new occurs to stir controversy,
where each his stated task sees through while variance is heresy,
where all together happy dwell, where self-fulfillment finally
takes meaning, form, and where the well of loneliness is filled for free...






© Jonathan Robin Anchorless and Engulfed robi3_0230_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ 31 October 1988 revised10 August 2004

see also “Hither hurried whence? ” 14 October 1988 and 13 September 2006 for final verse. robi3_0229_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ revised 27 April 2008 for previous version and relevant quotations from the Rubaiyat see below

See also Engulfed and Anchorless incorporating Anchorless and Engulfed, and “Hither hurried whence? ”



see previous version Anchorless below





Anchorless



Two who each other never knew -
though both spent near a century
some streets apart - are past, and few
will ever seek their memory.

Two travelled on lines parallel
while reeled the film of history,
the reel is run and now the bell
tolls once, - and then, eternity!

« Bonjour, ma mie, je t’aime, adieu! »
The mocking bird of Destiny
nests but a moment. All is through
before each earth-bound entity

can through the fog for once see well
what life and laughter mean, and see
things in perspective ere the knell
entombs hopes, fears, and misery.

« Unto thyself be true » is, too,
a motto meaningless! Beauty
and Truth are just vain points of view, -
worse, anchorless upon Time’s sea!

Truth and Untruth, and Heaven, Hell,
are artificial waves, empty
ideas which do in most compel
respect towards ‘Society’!

Come Brave New World! where nothing new
occurs to stir controversy,
where each his stated task see through,
while variance is heresy!

Where all together happy dwell,
there self-fulfilment finally
takes meaning, form, and there the well
of loneliness is filled swiftly.

To rut - that’s meant in senses two -
along allotted lines where the
skeins commingle till Death’s due!
Intertwining spirally

allows small space for tales to tell
about Life’s romance, mystery.
Better self-doubts to dispel,
obeying automatic’lly.

Confined upon Earth’s ark, this zoo
creates its own bars willingly.
why all the fuss and bother to
paint rosy hues enticingly

when threescore ten pass on pell-mell
and few attain their century, -
and those that do their souls would sell
for one more week’s insanity!

Upon Life’s cruise this motley crew
free choice demands, where few feel free!
Awash with superstitions’ spew
how few who do not bend the knee!

The ‘finger writes’ and then farewell!
A door to which there is no key
is ever veiled when curtains fell, -
“and then no more of thee and me! ”


31 October 1988

_________________


Pandering to posterity maintains momentarily
conceptual fatuity that's self-indulgent vanity.
Vainglorious immaturity gifts mirror of futility
reflecting on majority's definition of/in sanity.
Comfort in blind certainty smacks of shameless insincerity,
arrogant egocentricity masks fragile insecurity.
What hides behind dark Door we flee,
few dare discover guilt edged key
and once behind the Veil, of “me and thee”
what will remain, what worth felicity
which flashed upon the page of Destiny
one little lifetime, til eternity
absorbs all constituting me and thee,
archive deleted from man's memory?

Often with dexterity men mask profound perplexity
quiddity's validity subjected to mortality.
Human ingenuity respecting his futurity
wars Time's relentless enmity entangled in complexity,
self-circles contradictory, for we abhor our core absurdity.


“Hither hurried whence? ” 14 October 1988 and 13 September 2006 for final verse. robi3_0229_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ revised 27 April 2008 for previous version and relevant quotations from the Rubaiyat see below

See also Engulfed and Anchorless, and Anchorless and Engulfed Anchorless and Engulfed_20040810
robi3_0230_robi3_0000 XXX_DJZ


“Hither hurried whence? ”

Must inklings of futility mirror immaturity?
To pander to posterity maintains momentarily
the concept of futurity which self indulgence seems to be.
The comfort of blind certainty is shameless insincerity,
often egocentricity is mask for insecurity
until exposed, then with what glee men faults in others love to see!

What lies behind the Door once found the key?
and once behind the Veil, of “me and thee”
what will remain of that felicity
which flashed upon the page of Destiny
one little lifetime, til eternity –
its place resumed – absorbs all, me and thee?

Though often with dexterity men mask profound perplexity
concerning the validity of tenets of their quiddity,
conclusions drawn are bound to be tied to their own mortality.
Applying ingenuity to matters of complexity
beyond the ken of most who flee from Time’s relentless enmity
too often turns in circles, - we abhor our core absurdity.


© Jonathan Robin Poem written 14 October 1988 and 13 September 2006 for final verse.

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