They Time Together - 0209
Life's tidal streams so swiftly flow
too few can truly contemplate
cross currents which combine to throw
Time's hands towards predestined Fate.
Few feel for Truth, few care to know
what dream themes teem past Peter's gate,
Death's sting rings changes and although
the "moving finger's" never late,
most try to thwart sharp sword of fate,
hesitate, hot, cold, oft blow,
too often kill what they create,
as, blind eye turned, they backwards g[r]o[w].
Lost, tempest tossed, in lovelorn limbo,
most time together, separate,
the lies they live on earth below
their progeny perpetuate.
While lonely, counting cost, they sow
the seeds of frontiers which frustrate
their need to weed out embargos
which sundry woes accumulate.
Cocooned from change, most answer 'no! '
when new horizons captivate,
their god remains the status quo
whenever storm-clouds congregate.
When mass consumption's fiasco,
when brainless crowds gesticulate,
then hollow men spend life scarecrow,
obedience offers dinner plate.
‘Reflection' draws ignored echo
confined, when blind repudiate
heart's hopes, locked in, chart sin where no
enlightenment may penetrate.
Thick skins shared sentiments scarce show,
refusing to negociate
new challenges in embryo,
are doomed, tombed, in their muck stagnate.
They focalize on quid_pro quo
where give to take cold calculate,
hold solitary state, kowtow,
potential incarcerate.
Ignore therefore the vertigo
of careless crowds to concentrate
upon responsive dynamo
to harness energies innate.
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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