Best Kairos Poems
Just for you . . .
I find happiness in a smile
Just for you . . .
I long for the night
Just for you . . .
I walk an uncomfortable mile
Just for you . . .
I mean these words I write
Just for you . . .
I believe in a happy end
Just for you . . .
You and only you
Just for you . . .
My heart has begun to mend
Just for you . . .
I long for dreams to come true
Selfish as I have been
I hope forgiveness finds me
Alone here in the dark
Wrapped in what yet may be
I find myself
These fleeting moments remind me
I lose myself
like dust in a summer breeze
Just for you . . .
Just for you . . .
Tears roll forever down my face
Just for you . . .
I see a love both calm and true
Just for you . . .
I search the world for my place
Just for you . . .
A home I always knew
Just for you . . .
Possibility breeds longing
Just for you . . .
Closeness breeds contentment
Just for you . . .
Love warms me deep within
Just for you . . .
I lay open my every sin
Lust
Lying in bed beside me
Home
Deep within each kiss
Rest
Hidden in your arms
Truth
With the parting of your lips
This kairos I will not lose
By blood and love I sign
I have been shown a path to choose
in which our hearts will align
Hazy and forlorn
Memories scratch at the walls of my heart
Crazy and worn
I feel myself tearing apart
Just for you . . .
Just for you . . .
I will do my best
Just for you . . .
I know that I can
Just for you . . .
Our love I will no longer test
Just for you . . .
I will be who I am
Just for you . . .
My sweet Kimberly
Just for you . . .
Fun time and flight
A clock from Salvador Dali warped and draped in place
surreally oozing the minutes from birth to demise in a
landscape of our own making of how we narrate life and
the story filled with passion love disappointment transition…
Paintings of words and brushed colours danced song
oiled voices splash meaning fly along our journey for
when bells toll time-pieces chime ‘Chronos’ floats in
remembrance anticipation flights of fancy and escape…
Strange and humorous those days past realigned by
the present one blink and the moment is gone while
the river flows around us never the same as time stands
still and ticks just the same cascades the rapids of life…
Sequential on one hand of the clock times counts and
alludes to one thing leading to other like a winged relic
of reasoned emotion with intuition significance left behind
intervals measured and quantified like delusions of science…
Can ‘Kairos’ the indeterminate yet permanent quality
of en-lived stories and en-storied lives of narration and
lined context fly just the same when epiphanies last forever
when what matters most positions the other hand firmly…
Time journeys meanders along the path both forward and
backward remembering the future and changing the past
that is how both ‘Chronos’ and ‘Kairos’ move neck-breaking
speed’s painful arrest when Dali’s meaning melts us together…
It seems funny how and when times fly or when we placidly reason that
our perspective is moving and not the clock after all
05th October 2016 flying past or is it?
~~KAIROS~~
A rainy eve, soft tires pass us on the street.
June, you, the spring of my heart and my loins.
You, my eternal bliss with cascades of love in
just one kiss.
How Aphrodite caught us both in soulful bliss!
Standing in the rain on Polk Street.
We even stood in bare feet!
Forever afloat in love's sweetest boat.
My head on your soft, loving coat.
Why are you always intensely here?
Because you are my fate, so dear.
I try so hard in words to capture,
My love for you, who is my rapture.
Do all lovers feel this lost?
To love and never count the cost!
August 15, 2020
8:30pm PST
‘Sankofa’ In 'Safranbolu'
This bird from Ghana’s legends flies forward looking backward
In the Twi language twinned with indigenous souls and wisdom
the feathered friend suggests to go back and get it and I suppose
some fly backwards while looking ahead but then life is not only
Chronos but 'Kairos' with the meter entwined and composed
At this precise moment not alone in this moving instant it waves
and oscillates conjoining what was and will be when the present
is the past in a flash and one cannot step into the same river again
yet the future is shaped by the past the here and now a 'Kairometer'
transcending artefacts and boundaries into ‘truths’ and reality
The bird flies and time flows back and beyond near and far
further on wings and pinions with roots at heart
In ‘Safranbolu’ the ancient Ottoman town on the Black Sea Coast
and thus close to Ghana in real time place and connection
the old man had been tending the clock in the tower both man and
the turret free standing and wise still present and one
‘Seventy years’ as he explained pendulum hands and the wheels
What memories pride mechanics precision preserved aspiration and
dignity flying into the face of the clock and the distortions of time
Mustafa had climbed those steps so often had rung the bell
oiled the time keeper had not forgotten a day of his duties
had become one with the time piece and stood still many times
in awe of monument and pacing the sleepy old town yet
he flew forward so peacefully looking back in retrospect and respect
He has watched birds history duration impermanence imprinting the
meaning of a life worthy of living in honour of what is the present
20th November in all past and future revisited
Everyone, from children to grownups,
carry the world in their hands, they see the past
and the future simply by the move of their thumbs and fingers;
from their very spot they fly in the air hanging onto the mixture of
illusion and reality.
The little glass plate they are staring at is,
though, a two dimensional world, they go
beyond the fourth dimension and reach the world of infinity,
the time of conception to death, while creating a totally anew concept
of time that is a mixture of kairos and chronos.
Because you see everything at the same time
in this little glass plate, layer after layer of thickened image
starts to fall to cause the chaos, the distorted image crumbles.
When a child finds Hydra in the little flat glass plate he held,
he challenges Hydra, and after a long difficult fight, though
he cuts a head off from this great serpent, a drop of blood
numbs the child, with venom spitting out from the mouths
of the remaining heads it deadens the child. Then, after all,
the Hydra’s blood and venom overtake the child’s shrunken brain,
the child becomes a fierce monster himself.
For a grownup,
while watching Laokoon and his two children locked in the coils of
hissing snakes, agonizing. He undergoes unbearable torment himself,
as if Laokoon was tortured by the snakes, stretching his arms in the air
to grab something that may lessen the intensity of horror.
From the touch of smooth
but cold skin of the snake,
he shudders, he frightens, he feels death.
The child, comes and goes from here to yonder world in no time,
led by the move of his fingertip, he came and sat with the devil
face to face, tries to trade junk the devil offers with his soul, though
immature, he is therefore reckless, but innocent.
The grownup who haunted by anguish,
walks on the path of life and death, because
he is unable to shake off the bad-omen he carries;
is now sitting in front of a poker table and through
the little flat glass plate in his palm, gazing at the numbers
on the playing cards; he irons his ragged soul with steaming-hot-iron
for external appearance, the soul that even the devil won’t take in
pledge for filthy lucre.
It’s outrageous but,
all generations alive today, seem to be confined
in the little flat glass plate, they live as the slave of the fingertip.
Although I came this far along with the flow of Chronos
I am only an event of birth and death within Kairos;
in this confusing world, if the essence of life’s value is
quantitative-material or qualitative-spiritual, a day stands yonder
It’s obvious though,
if it’s Chronos, I am dragged onward on the way named future;
if Kairos, I am pushed to move forward to the unknown incident;
but the way I am on, is the same dusty road, I was walking on yesterday
it doesn’t matter what you call the distance from the source of the light of sun, moon or stars, metric measurement, astronomical unit, or light year; it’s an unchangeable fundamental principle from the beginning of the world for Chronos
is the gold and Kairos is the destiny.
Why do men ignore Kairos factor
always dragged by Chronos, covered in dust
carrying that overly heavy gold? Though the root of
the twisted strands of humankinds’ affairs; are rolling
along hanging onto those two simple facts,
whether you are pushed or dragged, if life is a one-way road
you have no choice but to go forward, why don’t you cut the toe of
the overlord and vassalage relationship of Kairos, Chronos and you;
dash at full speed to get ahead of Chronos and soar high in the air
to look down at Kairos from above.
Chronos, ordinary time
Kairos for all eternity
Combine into eternal now
And Kingdom comes in time
Cruciform - history & eternity
To spend time, ask God how
Like putting on jeans
Can I put on Jesus
God heard me scream
And he put me on Jesus
Agape does not discriminate
Unconditional love won't escape
The key to open is God's agape
Time to wake up to God is great
once our world had younger eyes,
time then moving slow;
now this present burning past,
as saplings, children grow;
what has been, was and
what would end,
small slices, measured time;
speak now ghosts of love and friends,
seeds of kindness sown in lonely wind;
but light moves dawn to dusk's beginning,
what men build all crumbles down;
oft a someday never comes,
brass shows through a gilded crown;
to live per diem on check'd off lists,
too fleeting, now it's gone;
blood turned ink and pulp for bone,
paper moments squander dawn,
while years drip out of clenching fists;
small troubles, smaller joys,
to know is not to hold;
now is all, this all is now,
kairos burnt the ancient wold;
in shining faces bloom elysian fields,
as seconds build to fade away;
hearts beat metronomic pace,
like exiled steps of men that cannot stay,
as tears rend wombs that never heal;
so gazing out to future's fright,
held clung to memory soon passed;
to hold, so close, in kodachromic reels,
while fading much too fast;
but soon to see unfettered love would stay,
when letting go is gaining all;
as authentic lives soon thrived in summer's warmth,
so too were shining carried into fall,
these human hearts were built to break away.
Twilight
One evening we reflect on the illusion of time as the shadows grow longer
fire and passion twinkles in our eyes to guide us through befriended night
the time has come for candles incense evening song soft tender touches
From whence me met the bond of love emerged and cultivated ever stronger
launched our intermingling journey's shelter guidance rather miraculously alight
together we ascended out of lonely days and nights rejected twilight’s judges
Our inner compass navigated by the waxing moon’s unison pulled us to wander
in wonderment one-sightedness’ gravitation pushed open luscious sensorial delight
we played before and after dusky dawn and musky pleasures erased all smudges
Of the past while we forgave but not forgot chose to enjoy and not to squander
each light and every angle lens perspective to melt our stories to relive rewrite
as ‘Kairos’ passes ‘Chronos’ streams of consciousness while Cosmos watches
Kindness togetherness hungry craving adoration in abounds that knows no yonder
with life a thoughtful feeling’s pleasure cruise flowing with tides no struggle’s fight
one evening waits and wrinkles paint condense come walking frame or crutches
Our skin will peel and show our age in timeless time but we travel fond and fonder
fondle caress our heartfelt minds and mating souls our grateful passage in full sight
in infinite eternal sanctum solemn homebound prayer until and when the reaper clutches
22nd September 2016
Human nature gets its share
in wrestling with the ideals,
principles or philosophy of man,
an uphill encounter, a process within.
Beyond human reasoning,
God apparently takes his place
to make us aware that he reigns
and propels us to draw towards him.
His message in manifold ways
stands to reason in biblical tone;
he sets the way and makes us mindful
of his enduring mercy and compassion.
Treasured in the hearts of believers
his great love and covenanted assurance
that he is with us and involved in our lives
like echoes or living letters in our midst.
In the wake of trials and difficulties,
runs across God’s wisdom in crooked lines;
deep and mysterious to keep in mind
like in relationship, scarred with blisters and pains.
As a qorban among the Jewish traditions
draws the meaning it conveys to human struggles;
in today’s world where divisions occur
a gift of ourselves can answer the call.
It’s beyond external things though,
while we enflesh the ideals into the act of faith
God’s ways are profound, mysterious and divine
in his kairos that no one knows so much.
A steam of sub-consciousness takes him to kissing a bouquet of rivers
Blessed by fortune and mindfulness Tim follows his passion for nature
Star struck the Horizon unfolds over a canopy of breathless adventure
Uncovers sunshine and rays as rain bows to shivering heaven below
As thunder and lightning explode and expose a meandering delta he
Needs no reminder that grapes lie undraped and sweet juice calls awaiting
In his mind he strokes moist wilderness amazed at the flooding of wetlands
Hovers over a small swelling hill set to the tunes of season’s exuberant joy
Charmed by a flute presiding over the peninsula just nether of Cape Town
The cloth settles in glorious fog like a blanket caressing valleys and peak
Exploring a new continent of dreams has never before been so exquisite
No direction nor map and no compass no South Wester where oceans meet
Tim needs no coat for protection no umbrella not a hat for his longing
Although Leonhard Cohen’s Famous Blue Raincoat springs to his mind
Dylan’s Hard Rain peals away for the moment sheltered by passion
Here as they lie in a beach hut of dreams spread under flakes of Karma
Chakras in full colour channels open and unbound energy and desire
Kim guides his wandering fingers and the hands of the time piece is still
When they reach that sweet oyster bequeathed by the triangle of shivers
And Chronos meets Kairos at the slope of cliff face flora and pleasure
They know not only pirates steam and stream from lighthouse to harbour
14th February 2019
Five Shades of Anthracite
Triads of black white and grey in the middle colour in above and out within
Five silhouettes a passion play mix shadows dancing in the moonlit night
work art and framework on the vertical horizon of ecliptic thought’s array
Alchemy casts precious golden sculptures in the feeling fondness wisdom’s
mind tending to its business slow and fast evolving rainbow’s kairos white
Five shades blend into one reasoned action intuited perception truth reality
embodiment beholding earth wind fire water aired in carbon gilded nuances on
the journey’s crested prism’s holograms when three plus two engraves infinity
They overtone refinement’s overture into the pentagon from anthracite to gold
by way of any tinted tingle unadulterated quintessential and concerted meaning
13th September 2016
An Ill-Timed Game
Some people never know a thing called Kairos.
Before we bat an eye, it’s taken from us.
We seem to be on time and miss the boat.
If it’s important to be said, just make a note
because the moment that we move our mouths to talk
the call will drop and all good thoughts are lost.
When the mood is right and feelings are so strong
in a nanosecond something will go wrong.
Some have tried to beat an ill-timed game of life.
Stop and think how much they need it to play right.
Kairos is the dream that looms way out ahead.
Stumbling blocks and interruptions rule instead.
If we could find our proper place to be
fated timing might just work for us, agree?
7/24/18
In the Moment of Time Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
He walks the shore and gathers drift wood for a creaky beach hut shelter
Builds a future and modest abode pegs his aspirations and dreams into the sand
Crusted planks weave an intricate roof over content surrender and anchor
The composite walls thin enough to break free from conventional hardship
Intricate sea shells and luminous star fish dangle from a crooked leaky ceiling
‘Ever’ lies in the moment as the moon turns tides flooding time’s impermanence
‘Nowhere’ found its home in the ‘now when’ as Chronos and Kairos float by
His beard is wind-blown and the long hair matted nourished from tear drops
Where the salt has arrested the Self to become penultimate freedom in passing
Some think he is an outcast but inside the mould casts quest’s independence
Free of greed and destruction he feeds on passion love reflection and breeze
He does not know where he will be when winter frost covers the shore
Maybe the ocean will have taken him into another chapter of his humble life
Tim does not fancy a homeless abode nor mere existence in a nursing home
Somewhere new waters might bring him a crutch or a float to survive
All he knows is that if seagulls gather to pick his eyes heart and grey matter
A colourful life with meaning and soul will have fed breaths of knowledge
His angle on life would have conquered unworthy battles without mortal wars
He lives for the day and the day lives for him untainted by greed and dishonesty
No skeletons in the wardrobe or cupboard for he owns only one robe and one cup
Every so often some kids listen to his story at the threshold of his hovel that is if
So-called adults will allow their offspring to come near to his unworldly world
Little do they know that his tales may bear fruit and open a page for their path
Their parents would want them to be lawyers or doctors carpenters or priests
But an anecdote here or there from the poet’s soul might help them to survive
14th June 2019
How shall I count the time? Shall it be days?
Night’s hopes die yearning, restless for the next.
A measure of this sort, if one obeys,
Leads short and certain to a crossroad vexed.
Or shall I count by months the time and tide?
Will February rise and fall so soon?
Inexorable march, one’s patience tried;
Will lions turn to lambs inopportune?
Hope springs forth new, now melting icy powers.
For man’s time, not his own, is what perturbs,
Best seasoned by the passing of sweet hours,
By Kairos, the most fragrant of the herbs.
Oh Lord, I won’t be anxious, for it’s true:
A promised room prepared; my home's in you.
—————
for the 2022 Marathon Mile 9 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written 02/01/2022