No Rhyme Forsaken - Verse Rose Versus Prose Curse - After Robert Frost Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Two ways diverge upon a virgin page
always ecstatic not to travel both
as reader riddle rhymer here may gauge,
one scoffs at prose rants, lazy spirit cage.
Pedestrian prose earns only uncouth oath.

Discarding 'free verse' bare - so rarely fair -
that freedom claim for writers formless, lame,
no prose I chose: prefer refined verse where
few fail to find fluidity, thus care
for 'worn out rhyme-schemes' dreams some deem too tame..

Fate winks, links fingers, beckoning, to weigh
remaindered leaves in out of season black.
One asks recycled self-styled bards today
if they'll be pulped or heard tomorrow. May
be - we doubt - they travel on right track.

Perhaps one should nor ink nor think this. Why,
as Time's wheel turns towards hid future's fence
two roads could criss-cross, prose rose might defy
current cacophony. Road less travelled, by
A.I. could make linguistic difference.

The road not taken Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one travelLer, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less travelLed by,
And that has made all the difference.
Self-Parody written 1916 Mountain Interval

The Love not taken
Committed to one, she wanted both
And, mulling it over, long she stood,
Alone on the road, loath
To leave, wanting to hide in the undergrowth,
This new guy, smooth as a yellow wood

Really turned her on. she liked his hair,
his smile. But the other, Jack, had a claim
On her already and she had to admit, he did wear
Well. In fact, to be perfectly fair,
he understood her. His long, lithe frame

Beside hers in the evening tenderly lay.
Still, if this blond guy dropped by someday,
Couldn't way just lead on to way?
No. For if way led on and Jack
Found out, she doubted if he would ever come back.

Oh, she turned with a sigh.
Somewhere ages and ages hence,
She might be telling tis. 'And I -
She would say, 'stood faithfully by.'
But by then who would know the difference?

With that in mind, she took the fast way home,
the road by the pond, and phoned the blond.
1984 from Light Year 85

The Boyfriend not taken
Two men before my eyes did stand,
And angry I could but marry one.
Each came from a far different land,
Both seemed quite equally as grand.
Trying for the other to be outdone.

One a mere robot machine,
Hard and cold as tempered steel.
The other dead for years thirteen.
The man was but a zombie being,
Searching for brains to be his meal.

The robot's heart was cold as ice.
The zombie's skin the same.
I preferred the one who was so nice.
The heartless one would pay the price.
The robot to go home in shame.

The zombie I picked as my guy.
The robot, heartless, would soon mend.
Two men before my eyes did stand and I-
I picked the zombie with a sigh,
For zombies make better boyfriends.
Adriana Hillary

Two roads diverged M Leblanc
Two roads diverged in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
until I spied a pile of donuts;

Then took the other, much less fair,
because I want to Eat Right And Exercise
and because I saw the ooga-booga obesity crisis;
but the weight of the travellers there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden with sugar.
Oh, I kept the first for commercials about chocolate!
Yet knowing how chocolate leads to diabetes and eternal misery,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in the chocolate factory, and I,
I took the one with no donuts,
and now I am a Paragon of Maidenly Virtue.

The road less travelled Bob McKenty
My marriage has unravelled
Because of Robert Frost.
When I take the road less travelled
My wife insists I'm lost.

Tainted Mary Ann King
You know the road less taken
Is one best left alone

All the joys you feel are skewed
You need the bite, the spice

To self-destruct in a flicker
Of flame, of pain, of lust

Your vampire teeth wait hidden
Beneath a rosebud mouth

Temperance no longer an option
Sweet sleep-nightmares you cherish

Honey is too cloying-
You'll take yours with some lemon

And a love too pure
And stinking of heaven

Will be passed by.
For your love has a darker side

You seek the soft underbelly of life
Most people avoid

Untainted
Although the road least taken
is one best left alone
when true h[e]art feels forsaken,
cut feelings, to the bone.
Although when skewed, mistaken,
joys curdle, grief is sown,
with challenge undertaken
who'd spice or bite bemoan?

Why self-destruct? no flicker
no flame, no pain, remain,
and lust unlucked fades quicker
than light, shan't rise again.
Teeth vampire? What is sicker
than blood turned muddy drain?
What worth if rosebud liquor
returns to earth dull brain?

Leave nightmares and awaken
from fears which turn to stone.
If not save face, save bacon,
for you there waits true throne!
Honey, with faith unshaken,
to lemon tears too prone,
find new way which, when taken,
mind light leaves, dark unknown!

(16 March 2005)