Jonathan ROBIN (22 September / London)
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Is Man Free Will or karmic puppet strung
upon Fate's juggling whim with sting or stung
dependant on some déjà vu song sung
by Time's wind blown?
Thus, 'What is Truth? ' if logic's made to fit
some preconceived ideas, Cartesian kit:
'The moving finger writes, and having writ
moves on' to clone
another pawn whose dawn is followed soon
by blight or boon, pride's sunny afternoon
is swift supplanted by black night. Buffoon
who would gold own!
Who seeks control, spurns writing on the wall
is often role-reversed, flight's final fall,
who takes theme 'dream supreme', who'hears the call'
may be just drone.
What Tao to follow, what gleans win, means lose,
what grief's choice try, buy, what joy's track refuse?
Hindsight finds, binds vice voice to confuse
what's light, what's stone.
Hindsight tricks weal's wicks, drum double-bind,
dream mirage offers hesitating mind,
as what before remains, what's left behind,
depends on more than superficial weave wound
on waft and weft success or failure found,
on pride or fall. Peak's call, cave underground,
mirth, dearth, atone.
Insight holds good when goal's perceived, race run
with trust, integrity, deception shunned,
with Fate's thread spun what seems done's just begun,
take stock alone.
Seconds spin, dissolve, fresh mesh weaves lace,
flesh minutes in strange sequence, interlace
the hours which daily years refresh to race
Each thought wave ripples out, conceives trump's ace
as cause/effect relationship few trace
and fewer find the time to interface
fate's seeds unsown.
All makes sense when channelled, radar's trace
decodes what static seems to those who’d lace
the edges of their cells of time and place
Time deceives, re-edits joy, disgrace
here tosses coin, replaces tail with face,
there spin repeats, initial choice erase
with cards unshown.
What some believe as Gospel state of grace,
others hold heresy, biased debunk, debase.
Black, white, day, night, lack insight to replace
with hid what’s shown.
On ignorance creeds feed, doubts cleave to base
on certanties' tease, insecure, they chase
from fount to font minds blind or lower case,
can’t call their own
trust, tolerance leave or misplace
understanding, for neighbours living space
to foster common interest with good grace,
not pick a bone.
Thread pattern, fractal facettes reeve, erase
retinal after-image to encase
the here and now in setting far from base,
hear 'how’s' tune-tone.
Thought waves pushmi-pully, surge, merge,
heave sigh of relief, burst bottlenecks embrace
Change interlink to ink invent, deplace
accent ‘chance’ blown.
Surf foams with make-believe, fears future's face
leaves fall, leave echo [c]old, untold, embrace
the stirrings of another zeitgeist’s pace
as challenge prone.
Second thoughts conjure hell or saving grace,
momentum gathered rushes on a-pace,
continuous, relentless, rolling race
to the unknown.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Choice Channels Choice Channels Choice by Jonathan ROBIN )
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