When the everyday pushes down,
Weighting shoulders, raising a frown,
Life seems to be a gloomy town.
Experience for me has shown,
Lifting spirits is f’all to own,
Take cares high above to be flown.
Poetry
Memory clouds
Forgotten photo I.D. in Sydney;
Misplaced memory triggered to dawn.
An afternoon years ago, friends of three;
Forgotten party tickets in Melbourne.
Emotions: panic; anger; disbelief.
Denominators: time; cabs; cash; relief.
Between worlds
Ghostly gripping chill
Engulfing the land;
Eerie light and dark
Worm within without.
Time stands; hearts beat still;
None escape this gaze.
What phantom is this
With woe riddled words?
Hands a fraction move,
To break the silence,
Clouds clear to reveal
Rosy cheeks anew.
Illumination
Dull sounds of a car radio;
Swishing, vibrating, idling noise;
Clear morning sun illuminates.
Again so quickly?
Hissing thickness beyond ear lugs,
Rasping, body wrenching, throat burn.
Thinking suspended; time slows down.
Aching bones, soreness deep in joints.
Sleepless rumination filled nights.
Sneezing coughing humanity.
Our roses are red
Our roses are white,
Petals feather light
Our roses are red,
Is it now we wed?
The 418
Warm, wet, watch,
Wait. Early or late?
Here at last.
Shuffle step.
De de-de-de.
Beeeeeeeep.
Shhhhhhhh.
Whir-whir, whir-whir.
Thrown in seat.
Stop. Chug-chug chug-chug,
Start, err rer rer rer,
Bounce bob,
Whir-whir whir-whir
Sway, lurch, stop.
Shhhhhh.
Beeeeeeeep.
Loop ’til D’Hill
(c) Robert Jones 2014, All Rights Reserved
Freedom within
Progress smothering nature,
Gaia’s screaming in anguish,
Cars cruise, collide, crash and crunch.
I cringe in concrete canyons,
Hard soulless windows watch on.
Kerb calamity beckons,
Artificial high awaits.
Downfall to the high elect,
Will this nightmare ever end,
Not with the current party,
Silence, cruelty, no comment,
Double dissolution time?
Free to believe in being.
(c) Robert Jones 2014, All Rights Reserved
Wilderness
Wilderness within my mind,
Thoughts held for eternity,
Caught in cobwebs of confusion,
Foregone, forever forgotten.
(c) Robert Jones 2014, All Rights Reserved
Repurposed
Shallow cast-iron bowl sits
Upon a pedestal, black,
Surmounted by smaller urn,
Silver metal sphere within.
Water fell from one t’other.
Home now to Sylvan trailing.
(c) Robert Jones 2014, All Rights Reserved
theINFP 