Best Introspectiontime Poems
Advice to the me I used to be:
Always take time for poetry.
To say what you need to say
take pen in hand and play.
Somehow find the way
and time to write.
My advice
to you,
write.
Don't worry about what others say
don't hurry through your busy day.
Sometimes life gets in the way,
no time's left in your day.
Take the time to write
despite this bite
You will thrive
if you
strive.
Please grant yourself this small concession
take some time for self expression.
Take the time to pen a poem
just to let your mind roam;
take a little time
to find the rhyme.
Find the time
to rhyme,
now.
written for: Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.Contest: "A JOURNEY BACK IN TIME"
It's a quaint little street, bustling with tourists
Shops selling ice creams and coffees, sandals, and seashells...
People rushing, a bike or two in the street, a car searching for a place to park
A baby cries, and mothers wipe sticky faces....chatter, and laughter..
One small gallery, tucked descreetly, into the narrow cobblestone alley
A blinding ray of sun's reflection, catches my attention
The window display, filled with seascapes, antique sailing artifacts
And one small painting....sitting, poised, proudly on an easel...
At first the glare makes it hard to see
But I cup my hands around my eyes...
A lovely rendition of this very same village
Painted many years ago...long before tourists
Long before lattes and souvenirs...
Just a little fishing village...dated 1918
The houses wearing chalky patina,
Narrow lanes leading away from the main road,
dipping down into golden sand dunes,
A small general store and a blacksmith shop,
Seagulls gliding like angel wings against the summer blue
White steepled churches slumbering in the warm afternoon sunshine
The quietness, the peaceful nature of it....simple and serene...
And I think to myself, ...how extraordinary it would be
If I could freeze time for a day,
If I could pull it out and visit it...just once in awhile
If I could bring it back now and again....that peaceful afternoon...
Walk in warm sunshine,
Where the leaves would never fall from those ancient trees,
And the gentle slopes would never know the cruel blast of winter storms
Where tears had never fallen, where age was timeless
If time could stand still.....
I hears the tinkle of the bell, as I enter the shop...
I remember yesterday
When I was young and free
The world was mine to conquer
And love was waiting for me
No dark clouds hovered o’er my head
I didn’t count the days
All was right in my little world
In so many little ways
But time slips away my friends
Cherish every day
We never know when the bell will toll
And loved ones will go away
Time slips away my friends
Time slips away.
Soon the babe will be a man
Friends will come and go
Sunny days will turn to rain
The future we don’t know
We think life will go on forever
We have time to say goodbye
We put off till tomorrow
We’ll do it bye and bye
But Time slips away my friends
Cherish every day
We never know when the bell will toll
And loved ones will go away
But Time slips away my friends
Yes time slips away
The house now is empty
Children have long gone
My love was called to heaven
I’ve no one to lean upon
I always meant to keep in touch
With old friends I used to know
Now we’ve drifted apart
And Oh…I miss them so!
Yes, Time slips away my friends
Cherish every day
We never know when the bell will toll
So say “I love you” every day
Nurture your friendships dearly
Hold your loved ones tight
Show how much they mean to you
Before you say goodnight
Yes time slips away my friends
Cherish every day
We never know when the bell will toll
For we were never meant to stay.
Yes...time slips away my friends
Time...just slips... away!
Copyright©2011 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
------
Grandma Bea
Didjeridu, balm for a shattered ego.
Deep, deep downnnn at the source of it all.
A vibration worthy of a throat singer, no,
downnnn, wha, wha, among the oms that fall
from the center of dreamtime found among
the sparks of a dying camp fire and bull roarers
in the wind, when you sing your own song
and no one knows or cares how your spirit soars,
just that it does, and you can see all around
the world, but...but more than the world, you
travel with the sparks to the stars found
at the beginning of the universe and beyond to
the time before time and before that,that, that!
When all we were, were notes on someone's chart.
Sometimes when I sink in my thoughts
I see the enchanting face of gone by years
In the wide open window of my heart
With my eyes blurred with gushing tears
When I take out my old albums to dust
And aimlessly turn over its pages
My mind is swept with a wave’s thrust
Drifting to the time of saints and sages
The time of serenity, peace and love
The time that is frozen in my album
Like glittering gems in a treasure trough
Like a fragrant rose’s ravishing blossom
Men and women with hearts of gold
Love, loyalty and purity of soul
Times when fidelities weren’t bought and sold
Amity and friendship were cherished goal
The glorious past now nowhere in sight
Greed and lust in forefront of mind
Licentiousness and lewdness give no respite
Kindness and sympathy nowhere to find
The earth plagued with demons of ugliness
Leaches and vultures, oppressors and tyrants
Sucking the blood and devouring with greediness
The flesh of oppressed, the infirm and infants
It is time for tyranny’s elimination
The call of vision is for me and you
Be a sword to slaughter the demon
Life to be spared of affliction and woe
February 20, 2011
What's another year?
What's another month?
What's another week?
What's another day?
What's another hour?
What's another minute?
A minute can change your mind
An hour can be a long time at a bus stop
A day can be dreary or can be life changing
A week can often save a life
A month can give time to assess a situation
A year is always a new beginning.
Happy New Year to all my friends.
Déirdre Ó Maidín
Form:
Time is a man made construct whose sole purpose is to bring an ordered form to the
events of our lives. It has no place in the overall picture where what is…is, and what
isn’t may be but remains to be seen.
When you have just slipped and cut off your foot with an axe…that is not the time to
worry if you damaged its cutting edge.
To fear death is to fear life, neither one do we get a vote in, and both will occur
whether we like it or not.
BETWEEN BLACK AND WHITE ARE COUNTLESS SHADES OF GREY. IF THESE SHADES
OF GREY ARE NOT CONSIDERED, FACTORED, AND APPLICABLE, THE INDIVIDUAL
NATURE OF THINGS IS FOR ALL PURPOSES DENIED.
The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. If not pass a law that
says it must be.
If we pull onto a road and drive long enough without exiting, we are assured in
arriving exactly where it leads.
When somebody else holds the reins of your mount, do not expect a pleasant ride.
The only way to insure your vote does not count, is to not use it.
Just because we choose not to accept or believe does not mean it is not true.
It is ok to have an opinion on everything…if you are willing to change one or two a
day. In other words be careful of trying to project your beliefs on any situation,
because at the bottom line the truth is, and belief is merely that…belief. Take your
time and seek the truth.
It is ridiculous to claim anybody died before their time. Every person is guaranteed
by birth exactly the amount of time they have coming…Thank you Lord
If caught in an avalanche, a wise man does not place his trust in an umbrella.
It is not cowardice if you are merely choosing your field of battle.
If your goal is victory remember it does not have to happen today.
A wise man takes his time and wins…fools rush to their defeat.
There are no accidents…everything is founded in cause and effect.
The greatest impediment to the truth… is belief.
The journey of self discovery is but eternity in length.
The trackmarked pain on the televisions face raining out and cocooning his grave was not a
very good advertisement for reincarnation Wake up at last near the worlds end crescent in
fetal shape symptomatic riding electric spasms of rampantly distasteful nervous system
Insolent huge anxious insect squirming monster specimen hid in a safe watchful eyes
blinded by heaven next to me was vending machine annihilation Cartwheel of half eaten hint
of red tapeworm breathing concrete pages of dreary neon lighted soul suffocating streets
filed to a pulp Beer drinking benders on Saturday mornings no concept of time vibrations
running spit on floor of reality Psychological moral and artistic problems suicide gallows
with teeth in a grotesque nightmare interlude of cellular panic Your old and valued friend
of detrimental poetic tendency has defected there is no treatment - is it wrong to make
the patient as comfortable as possible? You should have seen a glass of whiskey slaying
Goliath on a respirator superior yet terrified the frivolity felt more lubricated then
usual (mixing another scotch stroking his brain) now that the music has faded I will sleep
until the end of time in a porcelain bathtub Capillary incision catalyzes tongues of a
flare ten shades of green that flings ignited subject exploding into space “Come on out
old troll, let us put daisies in your hair” Sanctuary in the embalming to emaciate the
wings Do angels ever cut themselves shaving?
This sonnet was inspired while celebrating my daughter’s birthday. Everyone was eating
cake except me. I hardly ever eat sweets. “A moment on the lips, forever on the hips”.
Anyway, while they were enjoying the moment, I began to muse. Later that evening I
composed this:
My daughter is older by a year today.
She is thirty-seven. I wonder where
The time has gone It seems to melt away.
It’s like an imperceptible glacier
Receding slowly, leaving once unseen
Destruction bare, exposed to view, behind.
I see what time has etched on me between
A youth of yesteryear and current time.
The mirror reflects wrinkled lines and spots.
And not to mention, but I will! The gray.
And like the ice, receding hair, a lot
Is lost. My exploratory survey?
It can be said, expressed this way: Ahem!
I once had youth and now it’s gone, Amen.
This is a journey of the mind
That travels through infinity
For all the thoughts left behind
Are needed for the last extremity
Time is like a winding tunnel
A vibrant flexuous underpass
That is elaborately exceptional
For the mind that’ll grasp it
Your inner soul is a passenger
Looking for its purpose
The literate mind surrenders
And knowledge becomes a must
Where is my destination
How far can time reach
There is no specific direction
For only time can teach
This is a continuous journey
With no beginning or end
You seem to travel indefinitely
And never reach the door that is opened
This is the travel of the mind
Though it appears to be far away
And ahead of you at all times
You find yourself understanding each day
This is a tremendous perplexity
For which we try to escape
By hiding parts of our reality
We never find a break
Those who sit and concentrate
Their mind is traveling far
There is a feeling you just can’t wait
To find out where you are
As I write of the mind
I know there’s no completion
This is a test that I find
To be of diversification
Florence McMillian (Flo)
I look in the mirrow at the liines in my face, the hair turning gray and eyes growing
dim; Time takes it's toll as you grow old.
My body grows weak, and my mind is now dull. I turn away and think to myself,
where did all the time go. I long for the time when I was young, happy, and life was
sweet; I know soon my maker I will meet.
My friends now are few, and life holds little pleasure. I want to find a way to
recapture these treasures.
My child has grown up, and now is gone, my wife has passed on; I think I ponder,
oh what shall I do? I want someone to make me feel happy and free.
Perhaps tomorrow this will come to me; Until then I'll do all that I can, to try to stand
strong, and be a good man.
The greatest weight we shall ever bear, are those hopes and dreams that we never
share. We toss, and turn while we fight those thoughts, and always consider the
things we’ve bought. What of others caught in our stream, why to change our
stroke would be so mean. The waiting hands reaching for their due, what of them
what can I do. A beast of burden was never my scheme, yet here I toil only to
dream. Truly, was life designed this way, always to slave the time away? The
chains, we forge, not others you see, it is our choice if we be free. Look not to feet,
if to soar your hope, for the path we walk no safety rope. The time we count on, no
guarantee, only freedom can set us free. “Fear is crippling.” Happiness that is the
only way, it really doesn’t matter what we have to pay. Are you happy??
Form:
To those who simply try to impress
I whisper Lord, cleanup this mess
the more they brag and I pretend
I feel so stupid ........ joining in!
Why do I smile when I don't care?
I feel so guilty... standing there
As diamonds sparkle on their hand
My love reflects a thin small band
It's time to change and avoid the fool
been a long time since middle school
So now politely... I walk away
"Good to see you! Have a nice day!"
***
Contest: I am bored with__________
Sponsor: Linda Marie Sweetheart of Poetry Soup
Submitted by: Judy Konos
When I think of you time passes,
Then soon I am done with time
While thoughts of you persist
What becomes another day,
Always becomes a thought of you
Sweet and kind and a love
Why we haven’t given in yet,
Is something that has to be –
Now and forever time stands
Where you are when you’re gone,
Is not a factor in my day
Because you are here with me
While I am yours today
Tomorrow comes easily
Before you or I know, it’s here.
on this silent shore
I stand at the edge of you
making these dreams of you real
can I push you over the edge?
did I push it over the end?
how much time can I spend?
I keep returning, back for more
I find you waiting at my heart's door
far inside your walls, I call
how much time can I spend?
till I've pushed love over the end