Insufficient Unto Life's Book Are Isolated Leaves Thereof Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

INSUFFICIENT UNTO LIFE'S BOOK ARE ISOLATED LEAVES THEREOF


Reading, like an act of faith, appears
to catalyze perceptions and fine tune
personal philosophy the years
discards or reinforces as time's rune
plays out, with or without consent, tears, cheers.
One dimensional dreams prove weak cocoon.

Stiff tomes, once home to leadership perceived,
soon bend their spines, page servant or buffoon
become; what pleased now numbs, dumb message grieved
as half-truth, superficial style, cartoon
conveying ersatz ego. Tree once leaved
submits to season's fall 'neath gibbous moon.

Through self - not in - seek answer, other mind
behind strong screen falls prey to fears, too soon
shows gaps may not be filled by mate fate signed.
Youth's pup who'd sup, hush puppied pantaloon,
on slops feeds as age, accident, all grind
as chaff - not grain - beneath millstone: poltroon.

Truth relative to place and time some preach -
pride ride wide of the mark, more bust than boon.
Each should aspire to outreach then to teach
through understatement not as trite baboon
whose show glow fades, flow slows, life lived as leach
limpet like societal lampoon.


14 February 2010
robi03_1950_robi03_0000 XXX_EJK

Insufficient unto life's book are isolated leaves thereof poem © Jonathan Robin