From my most recent poetry blog......

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Blog: ( A Short Page From The Book Of Life, Love And Bitter Sorrows ) A Quartet Of Poems, composed in four days..
Blog Posted:5/13/2020 9:23:00 AM
Blog: ( A Short Page From The Book Of Life, Love And Bitter Sorrows )
A Quartet Of Poems, composed in four days...

(1.)

There Is A Dangerous Sun Now A'Rising

There is a dangerous sun now a'rising,
this world's blindness is a'surprising
far too many walk a dying road
far too many believe great lies told,
soon old truths they will be a'roasting
and in darken fog proudly a'toasting.

Danger and fear will come a'plenty
death will dance well in year a'twenty
far too many will life be a'wailing
far too many their lies be a'spelling
soon the shores will give away the sands
and tears ill wet fresh washed hands.

There is a dangerous tale in the telling
poison forests burnt after their felling
far too many moan out their lonely emotions
far too many selling their snake oil potions
soon freedoms once enjoyed will be overtaken
and our land will be truly God forsaken.

There is a dangerous sun now a'rising,
this world's blindness is a'surprising
far too many walk a dying road
far too many believe great lies told,
soon old truths they will be a'roasting
and in darken fog so proudly a'toasting.

Robert J. Lindley, posted 5-11-2020
Rhyme, ( In The Green Valley When The Invisible Rain Fell )
Written on the plague that has now so devastated the many..

Note:
I previously started this poem for The PoetrySoup Corona virus contest.
Created the outline and stopped, finished that and came back for 5 edits later.
After giving great thought I decided not to enter it. To hold it for later.
Many reasons for that decision, but truth is I think it lacks due to
its author's losing the needed inspiration- that which youth once did
in the bucketfuls "centuries ago" showered. Now my friends, do as I may,
due to that sad reality and its failing fruits I can no longer pretend.
A poet can only measure by looking back. At what was once wasted and
now those depths and beauty his pen and sword both too oft clearly lack.-RJL
Starting this project with this piece, admitting my faults...

(2.)

Bites As Hungry Shark, Yet I Am Still Here Writing

Words are coming, many are great, some are deep blue
I sit here humming, Lord something is overdue
Pen in hand, life, love, sorrows, tales to be told
Once a lad, seeking joy before getting too old.

This ole world deep dark, yet I am still here fighting.
Bites as hungry shark, yet I am still here writing!

Of mere mortal flesh, born to its ill fated doom
Into sunlit shadows, dappled shades in each room
Cannons of power, youth in most glorious haze
Distant hill-black towers, all a shimmering craze.

This ole world deep dark, yet I am still here fighting.
Bites as hungry shark, yet I am still here writing!

Amidst black canyons, clouds- separation and pain
Race into fleeing horizon, so little gain
Pen and paper moaning, lonesome that steals each breath
Poet atoning, into long cold hands of death!

This ole world deep dark, yet I am still here fighting.
Bites as hungry shark, yet I am still here writing!

Robert J. Lindley, 5-12-2020
Rhyme, ( When The Die Is Cast, Earthen Time Has Flown Away )

(3.)

Once A Revolutionary Serpent Came To My Door

Once a revolutionary serpent came to my door
saying-" hey man I damn sure don't like you anymore."
You have settled fast and hard, gotten too old,
destroyed all those lies that I so boldly told
Now your sad life you must accurately defend-
because to my darkness, my ire you are no damn friend!

I sat and into its evil granite gaze I then fell
pawn cast into the blackest of its unholy hell
holding tight to illusion and mirror image of me
there voluntarily chained never again to be free
waiting on chimes from a church-bell somewhere
or bowl of milk set to make dead cats low purr.

Centuries past and icy stabs into my soul beset
I was dying in the desert from being too, too wet
a repentant character from a tragic new play
minstrel of words that Life had refused to pay
crying in my sorrows and that unavoidable abyss
in dire straits waiting for serpent's poison kiss.

Once a revolutionary serpent came to my door
saying-" hey man I damn sure don't like you anymore".
You have settled fast and hard, gotten too old,
destroyed all those lies that I so boldly told
Now your sad life you must accurately defend-
because to my darkness, my ire you are no damn friend!

Robert J. Lindley, 5-13-2020
Rhyme -Dark- ( Gospel Of Self Identification, From A Poet's Muse )

(4.)

When Yesterday's Ghost Rises From Its Grave

When yesterday's ghost rises from its grave
telling your dastardly sins to behave
can that midnight hour your spirit then feel
poison arrows in your Achilles heel
slow melting marrows in your weeping bones
transcendence in your heartbreaking tones?

O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?

In cold dark that your lost soul too oft plays
sorrows born 'neath Heaven's pleading stairways
can new Life and Love your agony heal
or with devil's oath you dare make a deal,
fast drying tears spat upon cracked sidewalks
crimes with Mother Nature you dare not talk!

O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?

When yesterday's ghost rises from its grave
telling your dastardly sins to behave
can that midnight hour your spirit then feel
poison arrows in your Achilles heel
those melting marrows in your weeping bones
transcendence in your heartbreaking tones?

O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?

Robert J. Lindley, 5-13-2020
Rhyme, Stepping From That Mountain,
Fleeing From That Cold, Dark Abyss.....

Syllables Per Line:
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 11 11
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 11 11
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 11 11
Total # Syllables:246
Total # Words:::::174