Poetry and Prose for any season

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Gift, The Truth, Hope And Its Sweet Promise

Your hope- you have gifted unto me
unto me, a vagabond shifting sand
a flightless bird lost in its plumage
under a great and mighty oak tree
above the sun beams
its illumination forbidding night
vanquishing darkness, its blacken strokes
In your hope rests a truth
that his vessel surrounding my soul
is but a temporary hindrance
a shell, a decaying fortress
bearing the hits from cannon shots
empty now- awaiting reinforcement
from a cavalry that vanished long ago
Youth-
alas! was it ever real
a maddening rush into the waiting trap
I remember-those sweet summer days
barefoot, soft grass between my toes
Youth-
a man-less ship
sailing upon uncharted seas
decorating blue skies and watery echoes
I now stand-aged, looking back
amazed at the speed of flight
how life gave no care of time
no respect of defiant reality
Your hope- you have gifted unto me
knowledge, inspiration- a new goal
to die without dire regrets
to depart a man
accepting truth, light, love
and the immense vanity born into mortal flesh.

Robert J. Lindley, 3-06-2021
Free verse, ( Eternity, Seen Beyond The Purple Veil )

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Gift, The Truth, Hope And Its Sweet Promise

Your hope- you have gifted unto me
unto me, a vagabond shifting sand
a flightless bird lost in its plumage
under a great and mighty oak tree
above the sun beams
its illumination forbidding night
vanquishing darkness, its blacken strokes
In your hope rests a truth
that his vessel surrounding my soul
is but a temporary hindrance
a shell, a decaying fortress
bearing the hits from cannon shots
empty now- awaiting reinforcement
from a cavalry that vanished long ago
Youth-
alas! was it ever real
a maddening rush into the waiting trap
I remember-those sweet summer days
barefoot, soft grass between my toes
Youth-
a man-less ship
sailing upon uncharted seas
decorating blue skies and watery echoes
I now stand-aged, looking back
amazed at the speed of flight
how life gave no care of time
no respect of defiant reality
Your hope- you have gifted unto me
knowledge, inspiration- a new goal
to die without dire regrets
to depart a man
accepting truth, light, love
and the immense vanity born into mortal flesh.

Robert J. Lindley, 3-06-2021
Free verse, ( Eternity, Seen Beyond The Purple Veil )

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

This poem was chosen to be Poem Of The Day on 3-08-2021....
Two days after it was posted..
My other poem was chosen to be Poem Of The Day on 1-01-2021..-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Where, O' Where Baby Did You Hide That Key


Where, O' where baby did you hide that key
THAT UNLOCKS THIS RUSTY CHAIN HOLDING ON ME
Is behind shadows in yesterday's floor
OR THERE FAR AWAY ON SOME FOREIGN SHORE
Baby, baby, would it make me love feel
THAT LIFE AND YOUR KISS COULD BE MY NEXT MEAL?

Where, O' where baby did you hide that key
THAT UNLOCKS THIS RUSTY CHAIN HOLDING ME

Where, O' where baby did you hide that key
THAT UNLOCKS THIS RUSTY CHAIN HOLDING ME
Is it down in that hidden farmhouse well
OR JUST BEYOND THE FLAMING GATES OF HELL
Baby, baby, would it make me deny
YOUR BEAUTY WAS THE SOFT BLUE IN THE SKY?

Where, O' where baby did you hide that key
THAT UNLOCKS THIS RUSTY CHAIN HOLDING ME

Robert J. Lindley, 5-22-2021
Sonnet Plus-

**********************

Angel, Angel, Stir Again Sweet Love Lost

Memory, the ghost of a lost love, a vision
A vixen, a visionary, a heartbeat
When youth bellowed, with vapid imprecisions
And life greedily swallowed all it could eat-

The night, the sky, the moon,
the angel with flaming sword
The song, the love, the tune
Rampaging of malevolent world's angry horde

Angel, angel, stir again sweet love lost,
Send dawn's new glory and tenderest kiss
Pray I this, I care not the heavy cost
For now, she and love I so dearly miss-

In my anguish, sorrows did her heart crush,
All taken away by my heartless greed
I then acted in a maddening rush
To satisfy one of my worldly needs

She that was sweet and truly there for me
Her soul pure and her heart beating so true
I in my blindness poisoned love's tree
In my error now receive what I am due-

This I beg, mercy be given to me
True redemption cast from a hand divine
Perhaps a healing to set us both free
New romance to our stars again align.

Robert J. Lindley, 5-21-2021
Romanticism,
( Ink Splashed And A Most Sincere Plea Once Prayed)
INSPIRED BY
-Lady Labyrinth's , poem titled-- "Burnt Aqua"

****************

Note- After a two week break, I decided to write today
to present something on my homepage here.
And again stir the stew, cook the meal- dine again on
poetry and give thanks that blessing found me..


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

From The Depths Of A Shadowy Ford

" the crystal dream of a sun-nurtured soul."-- quote by RJL

I, will seek the silent ways'
unknown in summer days,
I will linger with the flowers
Ungreeted in lost hours.
I will go quietly
That I may be
Companion of peaceful things, -
The brook that sings
Its murmuring song
The woodland shade along,
The moorland wide
At purple eventide,
The clouds that in the morning Sun
Vanish in beauty, and are one
With pure, unutterable love
And those dear presences that move
Ever around us, even when
We lose the way of trusty men.
I wouldst forget that I
May draw nigh
The deeper memories.

I will arise
And leave you, and thus find
The deathlessness I was too blind
To see among your swift-run days;
My ways
Shall be among the immortal flowers
Born of your darkest hours.

R.J. Lindley, (early or else mid 70's)
Classicism, (From words born and a sweeter life sought )

Note-
Taking a break today to review some of my old poems
from the ancient days of youth, innocent truth,
dreams, life , love and a hard scrabble to exist with a
poet's heart, a warrior's spirit and dark inner rage that
always sought to destroy me then.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Remembering-that which was precious and lost
both youth and the time spent with my beloved dad
when a child I saw the beauty of gleaming frost
that revelation made this soul happy and glad.....8-07-2021


***************



Default A Tribute To An Old Man
I have labored on writing this tribute poem for about 9 weeks now. Leaving it, coming back, making changes.
Always trying to improve it, as nothing seemed good enough.
Then I finally saw the light, my father tho' extremely intelligent was still a simple man.
One that believed good triumphs over evil, that people are only human and thus they should not be judged against a perfection yardstick.
For weeks I sought perfection to honor him, one I so dearly love.
Then he seemed to say to me this morn-- " son, when love is true it is already perfection, regardless of how its presented."
With that in mind, I finished this poem today. And hope you may enjoy it and think beautiful and loving thoughts/memories of your
own father, be he now living or passed on as is mine..-Tyr


Just An Old Man

Just an old man I came to know
his mind still busy, feet were slow.
Tired feet lounged in old, worn shoes
he had lived, lived and paid his dues!

An old man, one I always loved
one who taught me to fight when shoved.
Showed me to be kind when one could
how to work hard and saw firewood!

An old man, long ago I knew
taught me to say, yes sir on cue.
Suffered to give more than he had
to raise good sons, not to be bad!

An old man, one God took away
taught me true love and how to pray.
Gave his kind heart and gave his all
to teach me to stand proud and tall!

An old man, that never forgot
to aid me, were I on the spot
Old man that gave, not being asked
in that bright light, this soul once basked!

Just an old man, so brave and true
wore the old, to buy me the new.
An old man, one I so cherish
I pray to meet, when I perish!

An old man, one I hope to see
that good son, he raised me to be.
Just an old man, one that loved me
pray I, to one day be as he!

Robert J. Lindley, 9-24-2017
Rhyme( A Tribute To My Father)

NOTE: Greatest blessing in my life was to know, love and be loved by this brave and kind man.
He passed away in his sleep on the morning of his 68th birthday.

Syllables Per Line:
8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8
Total # Syllables: 224
Total # Words: 212

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

From Poetic Thoughts On Mankind And Its Accursed Fate

Hark! Grasp firm precious golden ray of moonlight
Wrap in heart's grip, let seep into awaiting dreams
Release it next dreadful, hellish-cast storming night
To delight in its saliently flowing bright streams.

With fervent prayers, bid high Heavens to cast down
Manna and wine to the feast-born unwashed masses
Without need for a foolish king and crushing crown
Or enslavement and wars from rebellious classes.

Flesh and blood are wont to beg unto shining skies
Filled with grieving's of broken souls and lost hope
Surrounded by dark world and deep burgeoning lies,
Ever present rock strewn dangers of its pitted slopes.

Alas! Tis it not true, chains of our mortal curse
Groom enticing pathways for us to do our worse?

Dare we this proclivity to set asunder
And thus, into redeeming light far further wander?

Robert J. Lindley, -early 70's
Edited, 9/23- 2021
( When Dawn's Enlightenment, Its Golden Rays Unto A Young Lad Gifted )


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Long Ago, Memories Of A Cold Winter Night Conversation

Hebridean isles, once sang to me in a dream,
She her beautiful hair silky, so very long
There rests magnificent treasure few ever find
A good poet would use it to create a song
Not I said lonely starved mouse in the corner
My heart desires warmth and lots of red-wine and cheese
Friend, quiet I let you live so I am not alone
Good sir, be quick and pour us more wine if you please!

What? You plead being tired, so angry at me
Alas! Dare you refuse your master to now serve
It is I that keeps fireplace jolly and roaring
I have noticed lately you have a lot of nerve
You have no gratitude, do I not share my ink
You my good sir, shock me with such an attitude
Do I not share with you my most expensive wine
You raise conceit to a much higher altitude!

Yes, I resent that insolent snide little smirk
Your demeanor has taken on an angry voice
It is as if, you are no longer my good friend
Know you not, a poet 'tis by Fate- not by choice
I will pen some verses of your heroic stand
Alright, stop weeping, my ink and paper will soak
Methinks you have had far too much wine, go to sleep
Tomorrow, we see Hebridean isles, no joke.

Does not such jubilant news cheer your little heart
Friend, did I ever tell you my angel lives there
Confide I this with you because you are a pal
My love, 'tis she with gentle eyes, long silky hair.

Robert J. Lindley, January 4th, 1972
Rhyme

Old Note: Jan 4th 1972
I once lived in an old and sad lonely house
My new friend was an exceptional little mouse
I remember he could sing the sad blues and dance
I now look back, was it a blessing or mere chance?

New Note:
Poem was written as an imaginative piece to explore
the real world experiences of those people that have grown old, outlived so many and experience the lonely life that remains.
Such a person, a friend I knew back then- and yes he was a writer, he was a great story teller. Sadly at age 89 he passed away. I was away out of state when he died. When I used to see him and ask how he was doing he would say- : " Just fine young lad- me and my mouse are always living it up."
That gave me the idea about the conversation with the friendly but sometimes uppity little mouse.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

***********************

EDIT:

Lindley Avatar
Robert Lindley
Date: 11/30/2021 5:52:00 PM

I do so very much wish that I could give my dear friend's name. But can not do so. He has passed on to his reward and I have not permission to do so. Although I know he would love the poem and surely say yes, it is ok young lad. Mouse and I are living it up- with a never ending supply of red-wine and cheese..

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Just slammed this one out in the new lounge thread.

Once, there was a time when deep heartache came to call
A young lad had his first crazy, soul-wrecking fall
When love had ebbed and then somehow ran its course
From delicious fantasy came a sad divorce
A lesson learned, death of love came the hard way
What was once purest joy turned a somber gray
Now a memory, one that so often hurts so
When a beautiful angel said she had to go.


***************************************
The poem

Youth And Memories, Sweet Times Never Again To Be Found

Days that where wonderful even if pouring rain
Youth and blind-dog courage going against the grain
O' memory don't ya send old man a frown
Gift feelings of flying up, never coming down
I want to kiss now, those soft lips sweet Mandy had
Those steamy hot nights, that almost drove us both mad
We were dreaming of leaving that damn one-horse town
But in this crazy ole world something brought that frown.

There was a crying moon the night she ran to flee
Her heart crying because she wanted to be free
My poor soul a'breaking at the sight of her gone
I was falling, while Mandy had far away flown
Nothing to do but wail at the death left behind
Knowing never again such angel would I find.

O'heart cast this memory and ache far away
Life that year turned into a nightmarish gray
There bitter-black cold in the middle of July
And a heartbroken soul, taught how to deeply cry.

Nothing to do but wail at the death left behind
Knowing never again such angel would I find.

R.J . Lindley, 5-04-2021
Sometimes memories, are best not remembered...

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Grandma, The Farm And The Silent Young Cat

Before soft golden rays the roses slept
Night, its slumbers had not yet bid adieu
From its barn perch the young, silent cat leapt
Upon the old farmer's empty brown shoe
And from the farmhouse, breakfast call rang out
Grandma had no time for late sleepyheads
In her sternest voice, she gave warning shout
"Up and at'em, all rascals out of bed"!

That ringing throughout the place came alive
The cat swiftly raced to the backdoor
Soon as it opened in it would dive
To chase away mice was its daily chore
Table set with coffee, eggs and pancakes
Surrounded by those hungry mouths to feed
So delicious like only grandma could make
Out we went to fed livestock and plant seeds.

Midnoon the roses glowed vibrant red
Each paid homage to life and mother sun
Decked around the porch and the old shed
Grandma watered them having such fun
That garden and her kids her pride and joy
She still agile and spry at eighty two
With sweet memories of her three young boys
She thanking God for her wonderful life
Had loved being a mother and wife.

Before soft golden rays the roses slept
Night, its slumbers had not yet bid adieu
From its barn perch the young, silent cat leapt
Upon the old farmer's empty brown shoe
And from the farmhouse, breakfast call rang out
Grandma had no time for late sleepyheads
In her sternest voice, she gave warning shout
"Up and at'em, all rascals out of bed"!

Robert J. Lindley, 6-29-2021
Rhyme, ( Those were the glory days of youth )

Note:
As was promised, I wrote this new poem today,
using the phrase, the silent cat leapt-as was noted
from the haiku in my new blog, title-
"The Image, The Inner Reaches Of The Mind"
Thank you, James Marshall Goff for noting it
as your favorite line of that poem….
I promised to write a poem using that phrase
and have now done so.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

At Home, Resting After A Sweet Morning Trek

Cool and sweet
Laced with gentle streams
The treasure of forested hills
Forest sighs, and afternoon delight
'neath welcoming sky.

Souls they touch
Hearts they enthrall
Day or night
Embrace this spirit
Soothe with that colorful treasure
O giant that awaits the dawn
Welcome this eager friend.

R.J. Lindley, Sept 03-1973
( After A Much Needed Visit )

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

And In Rhapsody And Colors Life Flows

There in dear morning's soft glistening rays
White beach sand squishing between eager toes
Magical humming as waves blue sky sways
And in rhapsody and colors life flows
About, beyond, into eternity
I see an ant, its miracle divine
Endless waves splash into infinity
Dare I ever try to my soul define?

Do we see truth in blessing of sunlight?
Or dark in our desire to always fight?

Through scenic beauty and heart's tender beats
I sift sweet flavors of salt laced air
Graving far more than life's woes to defeat
I marvel at the birds flying in pairs
What do they think of dangerous mankind
Can they know we are lost seeking our way
Amongst trash we so often leave behind
Racing ever onward without delay?

Do we see truth in blessing of sunlight?
Or dark in our desire to always fight?

I walk in a soft daze wondering why
Life to us seems a magnificent mystery
We think foolishly to our flaws deny
When evidence emits from history
Then a fine gem appears, a strange seashell
Its radiance singing a lullaby
Immediately comes a wondrous spell
Saying, "your life exists to heaven fly".

Do we see truth in blessing of sunlight?
Or dark in our desire to always fight?

There in dear morning's soft glistening rays
White beach sand squishing between eager toes
Magical humming as waves blue sky sways
And in rhapsody and colors life flows.

Robert J. Lindley, June 24, 1979
Romanticism

Old Note-
I hope so deeply that life stops being so damn hard
In my dreams it promises such wondrously sweet rewards.


New Note-
Even now with rhapsody and colors fading
Life cries out, live and love- we are still grading.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Deep In Newly Disturbed Soil, Lies My True Love

( “Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them” – George Eliot.)

Deep in newly disturbed soil, lies my true love
'neath a canopy of virgin soil and loose rock
where no more glows splattering of earthen blue skies
accursed world can deliver no greater shock.

Remember that prayer gifts hope and hope is key.
For 'tis wise to from encompassing dark to flee.

Beg I, this woesome agony may go away
that life may again thrive and gift its wondrous gifts
shall such a dream ever award this weeping heart
and send light and divine blessings that so uplift.

Remember that prayer gifts hope and hope is key.
For 'tis wise to from encompassing dark to flee.

Now true, this life feels as if all is meaningless
unstoppable torment meant to slay the all of me
in this sad darkness, will salvation ever come
shall this dying man ever again the Light see?

Remember that prayer gifts hope and hope is key.
For 'tis wise to from encompassing dark to flee.

What wonder would such Light this aching soul award
could it be, a sword that cuts through these iron chains
or healing balm to gift me sweet power to sleep,
thus bringing an end to these sorrowful and deep pains?

Remember that prayer gifts hope and hope is key.
For tis wise to from encompassing dark to flee.

Robert J. Lindley,
Original poem first born- May 17th 1974
Edited, April 12-2006, 11-30-2021
Elegy

Note:
(1.) woesome

https://www.collinsdictionary.com/us...nglish/woesome

in British English
('w??f?l) or woesome ('w??s?m)
ADJECTIVE
1. expressing or characterized by sorrow
2. bringing or causing woe
3. pitiful; miserable
a woeful standard of work

**********
Note
https://poets.org/glossary/elegy

(2.) Elegy

Elegy
Explore the glossary of poetic terms.

The elegy is a form of poetry in which the poet or speaker expresses grief, sadness, or loss.

History of the Elegy Form

The elegy began as an ancient Greek metrical form and is traditionally written in response to the death of a person or group. Though similar in function, the elegy is distinct from the epitaph, ode, and eulogy: the epitaph is very brief; the ode solely exalts; and the eulogy is most often written in formal prose.

The elements of a traditional elegy mirror three stages of loss. First, there is a lament, where the speaker expresses grief and sorrow, then praise and admiration of the idealized dead, and finally consolation and solace. These three stages can be seen in W. H. Auden’s classic "In Memory of W. B. Yeats," written for the Irish master, which includes these stanzas:

With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress;

In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.

Other well-known elegies include "Fugue of Death" by Paul Celan, written for victims of the Holocaust, and "O Captain! My Captain!" by Walt Whitman, written for President Abraham Lincoln.

Many modern elegies have been written not out of a sense of personal grief, but rather a broad feeling of loss and metaphysical sadness. A famous example is the mournful series of ten poems in Duino Elegies, by German poet Rainer Maria Rilke. The first poem begins:

If I cried out
who would hear me up there
among the angelic orders?
And suppose one suddenly
took me to his heart
I would shrivel

Other works that can be considered elegiac in the broader sense are James Merrill’s monumental The Changing Light at Sandover, Robert Lowell’s "For the Union Dead," Seamus Heaney’s The Haw Lantern, and the work of Czeslaw Milosz, which often laments the modern cruelties he witnessed in Europe.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

This collaboration took several weeks to compose and was posted at about 8 pm tonight, mere minutes ago.
My dear friend Susan Ashley has yet again so greatly increased the depths, and beauty of this new poetic
creation. I am so very truly blessed to have such a talented and wonderful co-author. -Tyr


A Search, A Quest For A Lost Paradise -
a collaboration with Susan Ashley


I will take flight, into another zone
how far off to wander 'tis now not known
no regret, as dear point is to be free
beyond sadness, into a joyful sea
to a purple land, a paradise realm
I hopeful master, captain at the helm
with love and hope as true and faithful guides
resting sweet upon easy flowing tides
all dream weaving into strong palisades
pursuit, avoidance of world's many blades!

A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice

In my flight, rainbow colors gifting glee
a fine blessing -a gifting unto me
as I travel beyond life's purple veil
ship in flight, horizon beyond the rail
anticipation, of great mystery
left far behind, woes and deep misery
gazing down from white-clouds far, far above
spirit glowing in search of truth in love
this night my dear old friend, youth rejoins me
as I reject blindness, to again see!

A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice

In buoyant dream beyond the blue and gold
through rainbow layers fluid to behold
a vision bold the gleam of evergreen
a region watered lush the vivid scene
where age is not a weakening device
forever bloom not lost on throw of dice
I find my place my soft cocoon and soon
beneath the moon a lass to rise in June
I find the soul mate of my very soul
the influence of Nature time had stole

A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice

A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice
Awakened just in time to fill my vase
I pluck the distant summer flower place
where inspiration grew from blossoms wild
as whimsy seized the day a shy wish smiled
and reaching back across the miles of pain
to find the inner child who once did reign
again to see the dawning light and find
bouquets of violets abloom behind
the stony brow the wall between the weeds
and fantasy imagination seeds..

A search, a quest for a lost paradise
lost in youth, to find again would be nice



Robert Lindley and Susan Ashley

(a collaboration)

January 8, 2021


Quotes On Poets:

“A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.” ~W. H. Auden

“Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history.”
~Plato

“Poets are the sense, philosophers the intelligence of humanity.”
~Samuel Beckett

“Everything you invent is true: you can be sure of that. Poetry is a subject as precise as geometry.”
~Julian Barnes

“Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.”
~Khalil Gibran


Poet's Note:
My dear friend, it is with the upmost respect and veneration
that I say, truly a great honor to compose with a poet of your
stature, immense creativity and depths of poetic heart! I am
always indebted to you for the increased levels to which you
bring to our past and present united works. May God bless us
to be able to gift more in the future, as both our muses may
deem worthy to present to this too oft darkset world. Whether
they be dark or romantic creations, I have full faith you shall
immensely and always increase the magnitude of the offering.
God bless..


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2022

[icansayit]

Robert...we can feel your sorrow in all of your words poetic. Bless you both!

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

In It, I Saw Prometheus Chained And Bound


I was reading Salinger's, "Catcher In The Rye"
A follow up from Leo Tolsty's, "War and Peace"
I heard a voice say, "seek wisdom before you die"
Remember this, courage was a mainstay of Greece
And dear ole Mark Twain was himself Huckleberry Finn
Would poets ever give up muse and trusty pens?

I recall a verse from Raven and Master Poe
Mentioning the famous, intriguing, "Nevermore"
Raven's mystery was more than just for dark show
One fathoms, Raven came from abyss full of gore
And our dear ole Poe, his demons so bravely fought
Living twixt Light and Horror his soul firmly caught.

I in my youth, deep in the forest a cave found
In it I saw Prometheus chained and bound
His sorrowing words were, "thus punished I stay"
Never forget that for good deeds one has to pay
Slowly nodding, I raced out into the light
Thanking God to be free under our sun so bright.

That night I wrote a poem titled , "Shoot If You Must"
Dawn's first quaking I saw title was one quite new
It then read, " When Apple Pie Needs A Crusty Crust"
That glittering morn shine on roses is dawn's dew.
Now back to Salinger's book, "Catcher In The Rye"
I heard a voice say, "seek wisdom before you die".

Robert J. Lindley, 12-14-2021
Rhyme,
( " Life but a fleeting blink and a vanishing dream" )

Notes:

(1.)
"The Catcher in the Rye"
https://www.britannica.com/topic/The-Catcher-in-the-Rye

The Catcher in the Rye, novel by J.D. Salinger published in 1951. The novel details two days in the life of 16-year-old Holden Caulfield after he has been expelled from prep school. Confused and disillusioned, Holden searches for truth and rails against the “phoniness” of the adult world. He ends up exhausted and emotionally unstable. The events are related after the fact.

(2.)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_and_Peace
"War and Peace"

War and Peace (Russian: ????? ? ???, romanized: Voyna i mir; pre-reform Russian: ????? ? ????; [v?j'na i 'm?ir]) is a literary work mixed with chapters on history and philosophy by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy, first published serially, then published in its entirety in 1869. It is regarded as one of Tolstoy's finest literary achievements and remains an internationally praised classic of world literature.[1][2][3]

The novel chronicles the French invasion of Russia and the impact of the Napoleonic era on Tsarist society through the stories of five Russian aristocratic families. Portions of an earlier version, titled The Year 1805,[4] were serialized in The Russian Messenger from 1865 to 1867 before the novel was published in its entirety in 1869.[5]

Tolstoy said War and Peace is "not a novel, even less is it a poem, and still less a historical chronicle." Large sections, especially the later chapters, are philosophical discussions rather than narrative.[6] The writer rewrote the novel several times.[7] Tolstoy also said that the best Russian literature does not conform to standards and hence hesitated to call War and Peace a novel. Instead, he regarded Anna Karenina as his first true novel.

(3.)
" Huckleberry Finn"

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Adv...novel-by-Twain
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, also called The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, novel by Mark Twain, published in the United Kingdom in 1884 and in the United States in 1885. The book’s narrator is Huckleberry Finn, a youngster whose artless vernacular speech is admirably adapted to detailed and poetic descriptions of scenes, vivid representations of characters, and narrative renditions that are both broadly comic and subtly ironic

(4.)
"Nevermore"
https://poets.org/poem/raven

( excerpt- from poem's closing stanza )

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!

(5.)
" Prometheus"

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Prometheus-Greek-god

The Greek poet Hesiod related two principal legends concerning Prometheus. The first is that Zeus, the chief god, who had been tricked by Prometheus into accepting the bones and fat of sacrifice instead of the meat, hid fire from mortals. Prometheus, however, stole it and returned it to Earth once again. As the price of fire, and as punishment for humankind in general, Zeus created the woman Pandora and sent her down to Epimetheus (Hindsight), who, though warned by Prometheus, married her. Pandora took the great lid off the jar she carried, and evils, hard work, and disease flew out to plague humanity. Hope alone remained within.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021