A Part of Lifes Journey

A part of life’s journey ??? The hours begin to claw at me. Time slips away, filled not, I see. To much time on my hands. In beams, in waves, in bands. Empty spaces, invisible air. These games of solitaire. This game that is now my life. No girlfriend, no lover, no wife. Tides ebb, tides flow. Time ebbs, times go. Memories remain. Keeping us sane. On the turn of a card, life rides. Behind a mask true life hides. What is the time and space ? That has created one’s face. These masks that some prefer to ware. Fashioned from scares beyond compare. Staring back at us from near and far Hiding !, just what and who they are. Once again, I seem to be caught up in. This game of solitaire – my life- such sin. Cutting through the hours of my life. Like a dull, old, rusty knife. Severing all ties with reality. Creating a world of fantasy. These words have been written. Time - the soul they have smitten B. J. “A” 2 December 1st 2014

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Darlene Gifford

Date: 12/2/2014 2:30:00 PM

Your feelings were well expressed here, William. Blessings, Darlene

Darlene Gifford
Date: 12/2/2014 4:19:00 PM

Ok! so we both live part of our lives in a fantasy play land. I like it there, I can play in safety and I am rewarded with poems. Thank you for reading my, "Playing with words" poem. Also, yes, it is true you go deep and require concentrated rereading. Masks others wear are frightening. This world is not a friendly place. For defense we put on our own masks.But I guess mine is pretty transparent I'm not very strong I'm not a fighter. I do have someone to do my fighting for me It's God.He doesn't use dull rusty knives. His are sharp and get the job done. Lessons learned. Space used up.

William J. Jr. Atfield
Date: 12/2/2014 3:11:00 PM

Good afternoon Darlene Gifford : “ Your feelings were well expressed here, ” Thank you Darlene, for thinking so, and thank you for saying so my Dear. Those words strung together are but the essence of a moment that reflects upon a flash of light that spots that seemingly empty space between moments that their life has been sucked out of . I realize that I go to deep, but it is more in line with your “ Playing With Words ” then shekels around my subconscious, chains around my soul . B. J. “A” 2 ( Bill . )