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Posts Tagged ‘time’

rflower graphic

When potent flowers no longer seduce,
the cat has just one life,
Writer and the chopping block
head-to-head; defeat.
Magnified objects in frozen time
drops the jaw too slow,
words come a second too late,
awkward space ensue.

Crowds take talent to remain unseen,
mind and soul detached,
painter and his model–nude–
nothing else but paint,
one duty, one cause for attention,
emotions: distractions,
the trash lady and her uniform,
hand them to her.

Weight of the world is an understatement
add a century a dreams burnt,
Biblical stories of revival and rebirth,
remain grouped letters.
I rest my case deep in sleep
buried painfully,
that poor bird and its broken wing
doubtful hope in death.

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Remember facing a laptop eagerly waiting
decisions from authority,
brains are worth a lot these days,
price tags on the best.

Hands sifting through a sea of sand,
searching for the smoothest,
has sand ever been considered smooth
diamonds came as rugged souls.

I feel the hollow cheeks to my chin
wanting what others want
like constant battle against those people
you never saw but always heard.

Never knew I had to be told–
confirmed, approved, chosen–
Specialness a thing of words
not by my mouth but theirs.

Time ticks patience lower
anxiety attacks high,
open the inbox and pray to God
I am one of them.

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hand graphic

Dearest,
I’ve dedicated much to you:
loyalty,
honesty,
and love above all,
but those are just words     aren’t they?
Babbles of a love-struck fool
who cannot speak
without stumbling
smile without laughter.

I tell you
you’re still a princess
full of luscious locks–
silver–
but as beautiful       as precious
as a spring bud,
as ripe       as sweet
as when we first spoke,

and I am as in love
with this well-worn face–
if not more–
than all youth combined.

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When is now?

Tap the watch
it won’t go faster
Dreams are
denials
in the making.
Switch disposition–
still the same,
the edge gets closer,
will you jump
by the end?

Dead ambitions
are frozen dreams,
incarcerated bits
in little jars,
for all the ones
still standing tall,
fear to fail
frozen Hell.

Step out
grass needs mowing
birds need feeding
and the trees–
they need you breathing.
Will you heed
paralyzed by unmarked weight?
Die a tiny creature
loud insignificant babbles of
“ifs” and “buts”

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road graphic

I always took the highway
never a second thought to Love,
Time never considered confusion a reason,
the world never yields.

Don’t bother me with flying red capes,
I have no interest in vexing bulls,
already they charge as if tomorrow
they will die alone.

I press the seeds to sleep,
water, light, what else to give?
cause I will not give my kiss,
grow it may or cease.

Your way gives me arrhythmia,
Doctor’s orders are clear:
depart or I will perish,
one of us must go.

There is a line in my life,
with many points of interest,
foolish Love, to think you’re one of them
has me howling with glee.

Scoot! sit, good boy, now stay,
I’ll tell you a secret even birds don’t know,
the highway never lasted for long, when
every morning it was kissed by the sun.

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I imagine by referendum,     you exclude us,
What are we, to be exact?
Must lack of experience correlate to lack of knowledge?
I beg to differ–
Time has never driven in reverse–
this is our world as well,
and if      nature stays its course,
Our dreams and fears should come before the old,
We are…..aren’t we……..the future      You?

Come, jump off your high horse,
what do you know of us?
I imagine your decisions are for the better cause,
How can you without our dreams?
And when finally we become you too,
we should know very well      too well,
Rulers never rule the right time,
Time moves, trends die, what was will fly away.

Pardon us sir,      have we snarled too much?
Excuse us underdogs,
We have no manners in this matter,
Lead on, protect the past
let the future wreck,
let us swallow your leftovers–

Children always did what they were told.

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struggle graphic

We were bound by one common theme: Struggle
by nature, both rough unpolished stones,
Time and reality are allies,
they build upon broken steps    and they break again,
Have I broken too–
on my way down nonexistence.

Strange, if not fated, I’ve been torn,
Separated, I face the offspring of madness,
Her face, body,     soul,
I know her well:
little fox hidden under bushes,
the world scorns her,
cleverness a threat to them.

I scorn them back

Together, one after another,
I’ve learned to hate,
she learned to love,
If it be a friendship    or illegal affair,
then there is no glue,
no cure,
for this     separate
Entity.

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