Poetry and Prose for any season

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Huge Blue Eyes That Speak


I heard your bright eyes, they speak
your lusts they did so softly leak
Penetrating my best hidden shield
seeking,long night's greatest yield

Searching for touch to find it all
a rapture that does then enthrall
Speak more with those blue eyes
painting days of sweet sunny skies

The images those thoughts project
stirs my love to hold and protect
I would crumble in your soft embrace
happily lose myself without a trace

Eyes saying,I want your hot passion
me replying but I am so old fashion
Cries for me to melt deep into you
know your soul,finding every clue

Should you speak that way again
you will be far more than a friend
I will seek to make you all mine
on our love we shall forever dine

Those eyes place passion in my heart
each blink cranks up the loving start
Even your breath now sings to me
this my darling is how it should be

Eyes that sparkle and deeply shine
begging for nights of roses and wine
Life's love mysteries are no more
tonight I shall land upon your shore

I heard your bright eyes, they speak
your lusts they did so softly leak
Penetrating my best hidden shield
seeking,long night's greatest yield

Searching for touch to find it all
a rapture that does then enthrall
Speak more with those blue eyes
painting days of sweet sunny skies

Robert J. Lindley, 05-19-2015

Note: One not dark, a request from a dear friend...

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The poet Thomas Moore (1779-1852) was born in Dublin but lived in Sloperton, near Bowood House, where he was a frequent visitor at the social gatherings of his patron, the Marquis of Lansdowne. Together with the Marquis of Lansdowne and the Wiltshire poets Crabbe and Bowles, he was present at the grand opening of the Bath Royal Literary and Scientific Institution in January 1825. From his diaries we get a flavour of this evening:



The grand opening today of the Literary Institution in Bath. Attended the inaugural lecture by Sir G. Gibbs, at two. Walked about a little afterwards - and to dinner at six. Lord Lansdowne was in the chair [...] "Lord L. alluded to us in his first speech, as among the literary ornaments, if not of Bath itself of its precinct [...].



Thomas Moore then himself gave a speech, received by "a burst of enthusiasm" by his audience in which he talked of the "springs of health with which nature had gift the fair city of Bath".

Thomas Moore and his wife Bessie were frequent visitors to the city, as their beloved daughter Anastasia went to school here. His poetry was loved by his contemporaries, especially his Irish Melodies, Lalla Rookh and the Loves of the Angels. In Prose he wrote the Life of Sheridan and as a friend of Lord Byron, he published The Letters and Journals of Lord Byron and in 1830 edited Byron's collected works. He was a frequent guest in aristocratic circles at Lacock Abbey and Bowood, dining, dancing, singing, reciting poetry and talking about politics.This was witnessed by an astonished 6th Duke of Devonshire, visiting Bowood in April 1826, who wrote in his diary that Thomas Moore, "the little urchin" was shown straight into Lord Lansdowne's room without any ceremony.

The Bath Royal Literary and Scientific Institution is fortunate in having in its collection a bust of the poet Thomas Moore.


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After the Battle
by Thomas Moore

Night closed around the conqueror's way,
And lightnings show'd the distant hill,
Where those who lost that dreadful day
Stood few and faint, but fearless still.
The soldier's hope, the patriot's zeal,
For ever dimm'd, for ever crost --
Oh! who shall say what heroes feel,
When all but life and honour's lost?

The last sad hour of freedom's dream,
And valour's task, moved slowly by,
While mute they watch'd, till morning's beam
Should rise and give them light to die.
There's yet a world, where souls are free,
Where tyrants taint not nature's bliss; --
If death that world's bright opening be,
Oh! who would live a slave in this?
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An Expostulation to Lord King
by Thomas Moore

How can you, my Lord, thus delight to torment all
The Peers of realm about cheapening their corn,
When you know, if one hasn't a very high rental,
'Tis hardly worth while being very high born?

Why bore them so rudely, each night of your life,
On a question, my Lord, there's so much to abhor in?
A question - like asking one, "How is your wife?" --
At once so confounded domestic and foreign.

As to weavers, no matter how poorly they feast;
But Peers, and such animals, fed up for show,
(Like the well-physick'd elephant, lately deceas'd,)
Take wonderful quantum of cramming, you know.

You might see, my dear Baron, how bor'd and distrest
Were their high noble hearts by your merciless tale,
When the force of the agony wrung even a jest
From the frugal Scotch wit of my Lord L-d-d-le!

Bright Peer! to whom Nature and Berwickshire gave
A humour, endow'd with effects so provoking,
That, when the whole House looks unusually grave,
You may always conclude that Lord L-d-d-le's joking!

And then, those unfortunate weavers of Perth -
Not to know the vast difference Providence dooms
Between weavers of Perth and Peers of high birth,
'Twixt those who have heir-looms, and those who've but looms!

"To talk now of starving!" - as great Ath-l said --
(and nobles all cheer'd, and the bishops all wonder'd,)
"When, some years ago, he and others had fed
Of these same hungry devils about fifteen hundred!"

It follows from hence - and the Duke's very words
Should be publish'd wherever poor rogues of this craft are --
That weavers,once rescued from starving by Lords,
Are bound to be starved by said Lords ever after.

When Rome was uproarious, her knowing patricians
Made "Bread and the Circus" a cure for each row;
But not so the plan of our noble physicians,
"No Bread and the Tread-mill" 's the regimen now.

So cease, my dear Baron of Ockham, your prose,
As I shall my poetry -- neither convinces;
And all we have spoken and written but show,
When you tread on a nobleman's corn, how he winces.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Never shown this poem to anybody before but feel its time.. -Tyr


Death of My Father

Sunrise seen from hospital window view
his body wasting away nearby
Nothing! Nothing, I could ever do
death was coming and I knew not the why

Strong man lay there in misery and pain
cancer eating away his precious life
Teenage son about to go completely insane
coming fate was just too damn much strife

Darkness played deep in that small room
of what use speed, strength and skill
Against cancer and its mad racing doom
reality was, it is soon going to kill

Now those past memories savagely haunts
with mornings of morbidly saddened blues
After nights of dark spirits giving taunts
pray no others walk in these tired, sad shoes!


Robert J. Lindley

Note: I was 15 and spent 72/96 hour shifts in hospital with my dad as he was dying with cancer.
My brother Ricky and I stayed there during the weekdays and mom came for weekends.
Those 4 months felt like 40 years! I could do nothing to stop what was coming.I vowed then to make
somebody pay for this and it turned out to be me that I punished.
Here I am 46 years later and still see this as the greatest test of my soul ever. Also I see how
it changed me forever.
My dad was sent home to die after his operation. He lasted 6 times longer than they said he would.
Tough as nails was he.
I wrote that poem at age 35, 20 years after his passing.
I think of my dad every day, every day...... Sixty-one and still miss him...

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Three Moons Barking


Three moons barking, silvery shadow each
midnight echoes seek the night-lark glow
shining right there,yet just out of reach
Silver mist enchants the lovers scene
touching to increase the memories
moonbeams wrap all in a brilliant sheen

Midnight dance,three moon plays the part
gifting a mood meant only for lovers
each sharing the others softly aching heart
Summer night set to hold this long embrace
deepest in the long tender kisses
love so set in stone,nothing can erase

Three moons barking, silvery shadow each
midnight echoes seek the night-lark glow
shining right there,yet just out of reach

Robert J. Lindley, 05-21 -2015

Note: Written for a contest.
16 LINES OR LESS, SUBJECT LOVE AND MOONLIGHT

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

This from my private journal. Hope you may enjoy...-Tyr


Where Led That Path Not Taken


Where led that path not taken
a tramp into a mist of waving grain
Away from this God forsaken
racing for ever more foolish gain

How stands the present crop
thistles and thorns by the wayside
Will this marathon stop
seeking my shelter calm Bay-side

Will time dare to yield
harvest of sweet, delightful fruits
Can I drop my old shield
steady in faith of my parental roots

Where led that path not taken
a tramp into a mist of waving grain
Away from this God forsaken
racing for ever more foolish gain

Robert J. Lindley
02, 23, 1990

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Greed, Man's Affliction


What world will mankind create next
using his arrogance as a pretext?
Another sham to satisfy his greed
stealing daily from those in need

Will man next conquer the moon
steal and sell all too soon
Reach out to space to grab more
selling stars from galactic shore

When will the greed ever stop
or man dare reap an honest crop
Could be only after death rebukes
greed's power far greater than nukes

What world will mankind create next
using his arrogance as a pretext?
Another sham to satisfy his greed
stealing daily from those in need


Robert J. Lindley, 05-23-2015

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Posting a poem written by my poet friend , Lindsay Laurie, an Australian that inks the page quite well.
Hope you may enjoy this write as much as I did. Added this poem to my fav list and he kindly gave his permission just this morning for me to present the poem here. -Tyr






Poems by Lindsay Laurie


Sunrise on the Living Desert

Streaks of pink 'cross morning skies.
Land shaded lemon; last star dies…
Lightening blue spreads far and wide,
a half red sun. New dawn’s arrived.

This living desert yawns and wakes.
A foreign sparrow flits and takes
what morsel that darkness denied
to night feeders who now hide.

The sun begins its golden rise.
Shadows bear before my eyes.
Range of mountains now in view
look purple hazed and crumpled too.

A gentle breeze blows cool and soft.
A drifting hawk soars past aloft.
A static call echo's the morning.
Somewhere close, the first days warning.

There's golden bloom on mulga's face,
saltbush combines in shadow space,
a rabbit warren mounds the sand!
Three's company seems hand in hand.

The rugged hillside carved away,
gorged and furrowed brown and gray.
Eroded sand displays the shale,
where layered seams look to impale.

Tufted grasses dry and withered,
amongst that broken shale that slivered.
Stand out quartz already bright;
The rising sun turns glistening white.

A different swallow, black and white;
blue backed wrens dart out of sight.
Sunning now on walking tracks,
lay together; shingle backs.

And now the scene spreads far and wide,
to struggling wattle; sheer cliff side.
On closer look near at the base,
three kangaroos take a two-step pace.

Stillness lingers, there's an unknown call,
what bird is that? I love them all!
And the red plain grows beneath blue skies,
as the living desert welcomes sunrise.

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[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Goddess of Nature, A Visit

The depth of the journey ventured!
Across the vast plains I glide: the sky beaming down upon my back.
This my trek-- sends tingles into my hardened soul.
A feast! A galactic flight into the realms of Nature's mysteries.

I stand upon a forested shore, the sun speaks;
the wind beckons me forward into the welcoming glen.
I tread lightly and silently to observe without damage or distress,
the wildlife that now stirs my dreams.

As waves of purest delight enter my mind, the birds sing out in tune.
A melody so fine the earth snatches at the moon!

I hold my position to absorb this enchantment longer.
I am open my heart to grab the spirit,
the olden deity that sees my true soul.
I float in a mirage that mists my face with colors, smells and kisses of glory!

The she appears!
The Goddess of Nature, a raven haired beauty of grace.
Touching my heart as it races to catch her majesty!

This is the scene I saw in my dream before the adventure and day's sojourn.
The beauty of She that holds the sky, the woods , mountains and the seas in her hands.
Time stands still for an eternity , then...
She lets me go,
A release back into my reality.

I again see her handiwork and marvel at this gift.
This creation that mankind fails to appreciate or understand!

All is stored in a memory for replay and wonderment.
A carved image of Nature and her majesty that soothes the ever yearning heart!

Robert J. Lindley
Sept. 1993

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A haiku, contest write.. -Tyr


Sky pose on paper
eternity in a breath
broken shoes both blue

Syllable count, 5 7 5... 3 lines,
standard English haiku

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Remove Illusion And Its Dark Mask


A nail in each eye may gift light
for to see without eyes is sight
One must hold the heart to task
remove illusion and its dark mask
Ears become echo chambers of fact
heart and soul both remain intact
Spiritual knowledge soon appears
in volume when there are no fears

Clear the mind of selfish thought
victory in battle faithfully fought
Allow the soft breeze to rush on in
Truth of life only then will begin
Defining moment,a magnificent start
divine guidance will play it's part
A dark veil will have been lifted
bumper crop harvested,wheat sifted

Light of Truth requires a new clean slate
our blessing is the power to change our Fate!

True life,true love both are difficult tasks
neither can be had while we wear our masks!

Robert J. Lindley, 05-25-2015

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Forgotten Love, So Deeply Regretted


After the fire has burned very low,
the shadows move with sinister look,
You see the place you fear to go
think of the truest lover you forsook;

Did not that Love manifest its worth,
a touch that reached your needy soul,
Embraced your heart giving a rebirth,
remove that all too heavy deadening toll;

And sleep within your dreams a delight,
golden kiss wrapped in softest touch
The greatest Lover never given sight
As you so loved yourself far too much.

Robert J. Lindley
OCT, 14TH 1979

Note: Bringing this out from my private journal to see the light of day.
Hope you may enjoy it as I remember being very sad when writing it.
Only one other ever saw it(a copy), sent it back with tear stains on it
but took no action. Such is life, we win some , we lose some..

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Poetry, Lost In My Thoughts

I write my poems in a deep thought
with the pain my life dearly bought
Lost,listening to a vanishing muse
this world's whispers I often use!

Words given by ancient gnarly trees
echoes embraced from tumbling seas
Sounds of silence in forested glen
far away from greed and wiles of men

Cry from distant star or cold stone
shadows dancing by moonlight shown
Fleeting grabs at moments of serenity
promising future gift of infinity

I am giant tree reaching to the sky
spreading my limbs out and so high
Mirror of Life's fantastic desires
a creature cast from heavenly fires

I write my poems in a deep thought
with the pain my life dearly bought
Lost,listening to a vanishing muse
this world's whispers I often use!

Imagination brings sweet words to ink
volleys from ship impossible to sink
Heart beaten into indestructible bell
Sounding red rose,eating its smell

I am a river,flooding poetic page
servant of Nature,slave to my sage
Erupting volcano spewing heated ash
darkness that dares to live to smash

The great joy of seeing a newborn son
elation of finishing a marathon run
Memories of dancing in pouring rain
blessing of finding lost love again

I write my poems in a deep thought
with the pain my life dearly bought
Lost,listening to a vanishing muse
this world's whispers I often use!

Robert J. Lindley, 05-27-2015

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Because Baby, I Sit Here Naked And Alone


Sweet baby, you can curse me when I am gone
you can scream it out, kick my headstone
But baby, you really should pick up the phone
because baby, I sit here naked and alone!

Crank that Mustang and fly on over here
I have my lust for you and cold beer
Candle in the window for romantic lights
longing for one of our not sleeping nights!

Darling, rip off your clothes on your way in
mad passion explodes on us as we begin
Remember your promises from our last dance
your swore forever to this hot romance!

Just now I put your favorite beer on ice
when we rest the taste will be so nice
Bring your best see-through just to tease
all your sexual desires I plan to please!

Sweet baby, you can curse me when I am gone
you can scream it out, kick my headstone
But baby, you really should pick up the phone
because baby, I sit here naked and alone!

Robert J. Lindley, 05-28-2015

Note - Written for contest, theme is Get Your Romance On.
Any rhyming form of 32 verses or less. The sexier the better.
Dazzle me.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Mystic Scene

The glow of a summer day breaking,
whispers of clouds drifting in,
Rose bushes rising in deep beauty,
symphony to the angels of morn.
Sun gifts the rays of natural life
around We that seek the longing day,
A dance of intensely strong melody,
enters souls ripened for the beauty.


Robert J. Lindley, May 9th, 1975

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Off With Their Filthy Heads



Should one dare oppose the arrogant kings
cry out with pride so it soundly rings
Stand with sweet honor, our hat in hand
fight corruption in this freedom's land

Those that say nay are simply afraid
going against the massive power laid
What power, have any over the Soul
death is always the unavoidable toll

A man walks his very own selfish path
bringing on misery and darkened wrath
Why not step off that selfish trail
avoid the sending one deep into Hell

Every king served a spiritual master
bad deed brought judgment ever faster
Yet having power over life and death
was a stone choking their every breath

Shall you be stalwart and honor true
let your gentle heart judge only you
Leave others to see your honoring him
or walk blindly with their light so dim

Should one dare oppose the arrogant kings
cry out with pride so it soundly rings
Stand with sweet honor, our hat in hand
fight corruption in this freedom's land

Yes, we dare to oppose those tyrant Kings
Slay them , give that filthy crown a fling
Off their heads with true justice abated
justice the goal never with vengeance hated!

Robert J. Lindley, 05-06-2015

Note: The term "King" is used to denote great power and not necessarily royalty
in its usual interpretation.
------------------------------------------------------
My popularity took a 90% hit after I dared to post this poem on my poetry site.
I knew my popularity would take a major hit , posted the poem anyways. Thats just how I am.
However had not a clue it would be that big of a hit. Now I simply must write a poem far more scathing
of the corrupt obama regime.
Folks, speaking truth always comes at a high cost. People, many people hate to hear or read it..