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Happier Times

My heart is in search for happier times -
Longer roads; higher mountains must I climb.

Atop the highest mountain, a vision do I see;
The distance I need to travel is inside of me.

To find the length of your road or the height of your climb,
Look inside; unleash freedom hidden in your mind.

Happier times await those not afraid to look....
Inside yourself.....reveals your heart (to God) as an open book.

This book is written as you travel the road of life,
Search your heart, pen your papers as with a surgens knife.

Remove the hate, as you carve your daily plan,
Begin with love, let it show to help your fellow man!

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The Chornicles of a Dark Heart Part 16 The open book's monologue

Red what is it to you black the color of death? maybe maybe not? anyone here play video games? FOR CHAOS? ring any bells help spread the taint more quickly? what might an open book write
what would a open book draw
what would an open book think
open books are predictable
so predict what the picture means
why is black black? why is red O infused? what is the meaning only you know maybe only me...

(added years later)

Maybe I'm the book, and maybe you're the reader
but who is you? is it not everyone
since I'm open, for all to point at laugh at, out of malice or for fun
because they know my thoughts, they know i love her? !
what did i do?
i never said i love you! ! !
how can they know?
how did i reap what i did now sow? !
The worst part
about being an open book,
is an open book can't close itself, can't have a heart
anyone can know all from just one look
there seems to be something wrong with being too open and honest
but it's too late a book can't close itself
can't move by its own accord to a shelf
an open book can never rest
so now I'm the book, so since im there just read
just read.... and watch my heart, my purpose, my soul, my life, me
watch.... watch them bleed

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I Am But An Open Book

You now believe in the world I can offer;
Now more amenable to my heart's proffer-
An evolution for which-long, I did yearn;
The assurance you offer, I'll continue to earn!

Soon, you shall witness with perpetuity,
Your faith's reward-indeed, its acuity;
My mind is at ease, obligation owed to thee-
Your wants and desires, no longer a mystery!

We take pause now, learning more about each;
I am but an open book-read me, I do beseech!

What was once plainly uninspiring, even ordinary,
Shall be made most ennobling, even extraordinary;
Gaze in wide wonder, as our glorious confluence
Reveals what may be, with love in abundance!

Maurice Harris,23 March 2010

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Open Book's Monologue (revisited the years later portion of part 16)

Maybe I'm the book, and maybe you're the reader
but who is you? is it not everyone
since I'm open, for all to point at laugh at, out of malice or for fun
because they know my thoughts, they know i love her? !
what did i do?
i never said i love you! ! !
how can they know?
how did i reap what i did now sow? !
The worst part
about being an open book,
is an open book can't close itself, can't have a heart
anyone can know all from just one look
there seems to be something wrong with being too open and honest
but it's too late a book can't close itself
can't move by its own accord to a shelf
an open book can never rest
so now I'm the book, so since im there just read
just read.... and watch my heart, my purpose, my soul, my life, me
watch.... watch them bleed

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Open Book

U said my heart's just like an open book
But there are lines U've never seen
U said that U could tell in a single look
But U never looked in between
Sometimes I wanted 2 keep U, sometimes I wanted your love
But I've awakened 2 the reality that sometimes is not enough
Oh, our separate dreams pulled us our separate ways
We were so different from the very start
2 me it was 4ever, 2 U it was just a phase
I'll give back your name if U give back my heart
CHORUS:
U said U'd take me 2 another world
I said U were only posing
U'd never be able 2 read this girl
So the open book is closing, closing, closing
Closing
Sometimes it felt so natural, sometimes it felt so right
It doesn't seem fair that U and I ever had a fight ... no!
Sometimes I wanted 2 keep U, sometimes I wanted your love
But I've awakened 2 the reality that sometimes is not enough
Oh, now your touch is a reminder like the thorns upon a rose
The beauty is mine if I can stand the cut
CHORUS {x2

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Open Book's Monologue Part 3: My Lie

Maybe a lie was told
Believed by all of you now old
If you read the open book
You'd see
The words 'I care nothing about how someone might look'
When searching for love for that girl that I want with me
Remember that and pay attention when the open book says looks are not
An issue
But realizing the lie, this book will need a strong tissue
For, the book will cry
And need support, no spine
Because if I care nothing about looks
Why do I want (maybe crave) to hold her or share a kiss?
How can this
Be true? Why does that matter? It should not!
I should be content with talking....feelings....not if she is hot
I tell myself if she is hot, such things matter to me not
But if that's true why do I want to hug or touch?
Why do I want the physical contact and such
How can I reconcile my claim, when once before
I loved a girl only for how she looked and that made her perfect
Without defect
How can I trust myself after that am I not something to abhor?
What can you do when a book you read does lie
That is the case with this open book, crafty and sly
I can't trust myself, but who else knows how I feel, who knows
Where my heart goes
And to where does it belong?
O how I long for the completion of love and affection
But how can I have that, when I can't handle it, I'm not mature
Plagued by imperfection
The flaw of my nature
What do I love? And what do I love about you?
But also if what I say even to myself can be a lie then just who
Just..... just who am I? ! ? ! ? ! ? ! ?

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Timely Open Book

An attractive pair of eyes
of almond aspect, startling size,
sparkle with suggestive look
to signal “I’m an open book
to which all welcome are who, wise,
rise, meet sweet challenge, find replies
the overhasty overlook.
Moreover, who their minds mistook
face value take where their own lies
make mirror image, dark disguise,
soon blot their ego's copybook -
self image wage, page books may cook.

From downturned mouth to upturned nose
verse flows until this tale we close.


22 June 2005 revised 5 December 2008


robi03_1286_robi03_0000 SXX_JLX

for previous version entitled Open Book see below


Open Book

An attractive pair of eyes
of almond aspect, startling size,
sparkle with suggestive look
to signal “I’m an open book
to which all welcome are who, wise,
rise, meet the challenge, find replies
that overhasty overlook,
while those face value take mistook
are where they make for their own lies
a mirror image, dark disguise –
and thus soon blot their copybook...

© Jonathan Robin – Sonnet written 22 June 2005

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Open Book's Monologue Part 4 Bookkeeping

Regular written books or a regular written novel
Could sell
But each copy would essentially be the same
And the words stagnant, unable to change, in a sense lame
Because they cannot move or rearrange
They just never change

But I guess even though I'm an open book that's where we differ
My words do change, and my past is rewritten
When my memories become hazy or hidden
Suddenly I've changed my past, said something different to her
Or him, or supposedly done an action that never did occur.
When witnesses balk and there is no vindication
Nor affirmation
It's hard to keep my memories truthfully
Call me a liar for changing them, but that's me

Bookkeeping is near impossible
Because rewriting my beginnings is possible
It's hard to remember what's fact or fiction
When this novel is just a fantastical rendition
Of what I think my life is or thought my life was
Not what it really is or really was
I think it's because
Those unhappy memories of the past ought
Just to be forgot
So I choose (o so subconsciously) to rewrite them
Only to find they've made my destiny
They've made me- me

It's funny that I write of bookkeeping
And changing the beginning of the book
When I feel so strongly
That such things are impossible for me
So in a sense this poem is a contradiction
But then maybe my changes are just my perception
Of my story because I cannot look back
So I guess I'm wrong... future and past are stained in black
Because as a book I could change what I think
Maybe even float not sink
But that's just my perception, because my story
Is actually
The Immutable tragedy
The tragedy of me
And past... present... future
They won't endure
One day pages will crumble to dust

But I think... I'll go first... Actually I think.... I think...
I must.

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Nature, You Are An Open Book But.!

O Nature-
You are ever an open book!
However,
In between your lines
O how many many embedded mysteries!

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Open book

Open book my life
You are here like star.

I am talking to you
Whenever I want
You in silent
giving answer.

You assured to make
Everything allright
I inreturn not able to
show my gratitude.

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An Open Book

My life is an open book
that can be read at anytime.
Sometimes it has sunshine,
sometimes it has rain,
sometimes there is great happiness
and sometimes there is dreadful pain.
On every page there is something new,
some good, some bad, some indifferent,
some smiles, some laughter
and sometimes many tears.
Life is life and we make it
the best we can do.
Even when the odds are against us,
we somehow make it through.
Therefore, when you read each chapter
that is what you will get,
a life that has been
well and truly lived in.

7 November 2008

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An Open Book

Read my life like an open book
These stanzas paint a picture
If you were given a single look
Would you find truth in these scriptures?
I see graves full fast
While the economy dives
Were run by our cash
What a sunrise
I'm sick of this place
I won't believe lies!

I don't know what to do
The problem is I think too much and
There's always a second guess
What's the problem?
Something to prove?
I digg myself deeper
I crave her touch
But she knows I'm not the best

Now I don't know what to do
Cuz now I see I drink too much
What a mess I've made
I'll need a sponge

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Open Book's Monologue Part 2: Perpetual

Perpetual
Eternal
Immutable
Irrevocable
Enduring
Etched in stone
Engraved with blood
The words of an open book remain
The book cannot write itself, but it is a series of stain after stain
Of ink and blood to paper writing a story that cannot be changed
Nor altered, nor made a happy, if tragedy destined to be
Tragedy it shall be, and tragedy for me
If love to be, it shall be, but this will not come
If death to be, it shall be, and shall always come, for all things under the sun
Will one day perish, wither, and die
One day decay will find this spine, and air make page fly
One day ink will fade
Destroying all that was so carefully made
But this is not the cruelty
The cruelty is that the story is immutable
The ending certain
The cruelty is a book is unalterable
The ending the book strives for- in vain
It is GIVEN an ending, with which it has no say
And to this end it SHALL come one day

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Notes From Chicago... An Open Book.

know what?
to have my own baby
is really an obsession
i made an attempt
w/ a young puerto rican
(now in her 37 yrs)
divorcee in 2006;

she got preggy in 2008
but had a miscarriage after 12 wks! ;

Felt proud but angry!
We ended up the affair last 2009 Feb;
Moved to Chicago Aug 24/10;
filed divorce in Jan/11/11(WIsconsin):

Final judgment last June 10/11;
Now back to solo flight....
(oh the pangs of pride and anger!)

...I want my life to be an open book;
some kind of legacy to
and for the coming generation -
religious and otherwise;

the 'don't follow' kind of thing;

I have an 'open secret' hurting
and disgusting experience
w/c affected my self-formation
and outlooks!

It's an open secret because
the last to know about it is my family!
Not even my own deceased father (6/5/2005)
knew about what happened to me
after they sent me to the parochial high school
in nearby town!

It's what I called a 'betrayal of trust! '

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An Indicator

oh lord
of course
you dont need angels
to tell the sin of each of your men
of course oh lord
each man knows he
himself is the author of his deeds
given your breath
a blank new book he is
to write his own real tales
good or bad
how a thief
would always appear - a thief
in whatever way he might want to hide
oh god, you dont need
an angel to write down each man's deed
a liar would always look like a liar
only fools cannot tell them
from the good souls
their voice, their expressions, every of their acts
an open book to tell what they are
this physique an open book
we write our life tales
for god's judgement at the end of the day
we jot down our own heaven or hell
for god's convenience

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Topsy-turvy

I'm upside down, inside out.
Cannot figure what I'm about.
I'm sometimes up, sometimes down,
sometimes smile and sometimes frown.
Topsy-turvy is what I am.
Seems I'm always in a jam.

Need to get my head on straight.
Probably need to meditate.
Slow right down and just let loose.
Just stop being a silly goose.
Topsy-turvy is what I am.
Seems I'm always in a jam.

Need to take a good deep look.
Make myself an open book.
Need to figure out what's wrong.
Bring back the peace where I belong.
Topsy-turvy, not anymore.
Got my feet straight on the floor.

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One Brown Mouse

Smile your little smile --- take some tea with me awhile.
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulder.
Twitch your whiskers. feel that youre really real.
Another tea-time --- another day older.
Puff warm breath on your tiny hands.
You wish you were a man
Who every day can turn another page.
Behind your glass you sit and look
At my ever-open book ---
One brown mouse sitting in a cage.
Do you wonder if I really care for you ---
Am I just the company you keep ---
Which one of us exercises on the old treadmill ---
Who hides his head, pretending to sleep?
Smile your little smile --- take some tea with me awhile.
And every day well turn another page.
Behind our glass well sit and look
At our ever-open book ---
One brown mouse sitting in a cage.

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Stillness In Time (Radio Version)

There's a stillness in time
Which I cannot define
Does your heart bleed like mine (oh does your heart, yeah)
For a place we can go
Where the troubles of our time are far away (hey, they're so far away)
And I had all my life in front of me
Now my darkness days are trouble free
There are so many wonderous things for you to see (hey)
If you find that somethings going wrong
Look around at what your running from
You can wait a thousand years in line
For that stillness in time
(oh, yeah) I found love in that way
And I'm never sad, and I'm always glad
Anything you give me today
I will, will be thankful for (yeah, yeah, yeah)
People find it hard to be strong
Cos they don't know where they're coming from (oooh)
There was nothing left to do but hang on
For that stillness in time
(There's a stillness in time
Search the spaces of my mind)
If this world is turning too fast for your head
Just remember how bad times can roll instead
Yes I have to search the spaces in my mind
For that stillness in time.
(Hey) I feel love in that way
And I'm never sad, and I'm always glad
Ooo, Anything you give me today
I will, will be thankful for
People find it hard to be strong
Cause they don't know where they're coming from
Hey, there was nothing left to do but hang on
For that stillness in time.
Ooo, I know that this is the perfect for a sort of bliss
There is no me, for the love I have will stay the same
I have been wrong if I don't know where I'm coming from
If I proceed the things that are inside of me
All of me, in front of me
Oh, see it's all around me
Said I know, said I want to find that stillness in time
Stillness in time, hey
la, la, la, la, la, lo (repeat until end)

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God Has Given Me So Much In Life

GOD HAS GIVEN ME SO MUCH IN LIFE

God has given me so much in life
How can I not be grateful?
Even now when so many my age
Already gone
I continue-
How I wonder will I feel
When I know the end is imminent?
How? if there is no answer to my prayer
To live on without pain?
God has given me so much-
And we are commanded to bless on everything.
Will I be able to be thankful
At the end, also?

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The Higher You Climb

There is no comeback from the big divide
Maybe theres a future to be found waiting on the other side
If its illusion, then what is real?
In lifes confusion, take what you can
Fight it till you reach the goal.
And the higher you climb you can fall
But never look down
And the faster you run, its a crawl
To the end of the line.
Seems all directions lead to one place
There are no signposts guiding me
It takes a long time to see
And the higher you climb you can fall
But never look down
And the faster you run, its a crawl
To the end of the line.
The age of reason has come and gone
The changing seasons move on and on until you reach the goal
And the higher you climb you can fall
But never look down
And the faster you run, its a crawl
To the end of the line.

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In Dark Shadows.

the pepper pot

towards the nun
on her right.

The salt follows
once more given

a gentle shove.
To understand

another’s need
without them asking,

an elderly nun
had said.

A nun is reading
from a high desk

in the refectory.
Some book on Cromwell,

a life, back whenever when.
She sips her soup,

the French soup spoon
held in her right hand.

The nun on her left
passes the water jug.

Offers to pour.
Sister Felicity nods

and smiles.
The nun pours

a liberal amount
then puts down the jug.

Opposite an elderly nun
dribbles soup,

her shaky hand
missing the target.

Nan did that.
How can one forget?

She remembers
her grandmother’s

slow decline;
the slippery slope

down to the side ward
in the dank hospital.

Onion soup. Too hot.
She blows to cool.

Sunlight reaches down
through high windows.

Worlds explode
in dark shadows.

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