Best Tense Poems
Don't worry now about past tense,
It's gone, passe'~ no longer hence.
Forget all those words left unsaid,
moments still waiting, books unread.
The future will come, enticed or not
Enjoy the days time has brought.
It seems
my past
is everything
I failed to be.
I am
a product
of my past
not a prisoner
of it.
I will
not be
stuck in a labyrinth
thinking I'll
escape one day.
However, the clock ticks
hours pass
the past reverberates
the future recedes.
If the present
changes the past
looking back
I did not find
what I left behind.
~ ~
Scent upon a breeze
Blows so softly past my cheek
Memories invade
The ghost of future past lines chiseled upon his face at least they spelled my name right
The only difference
between you and me is...
You thought of me sometimes
While I...
I think of you always
don’t hurry today...surrender to the present tense of thanksgiving!
PD's Contest: Solitude -- Monoku or ONE LINE poem #4
I walked knowingly into the trap
as a boat sails over Charybdis.
Afraid of showing tell-tale marks
up and down my arms.
I gave in to the lesser evil,
went astray, searching indiscriminately for an escape.
My search lead me to a certain type of website.
Taking refuge in my libido,
I removed my clothes, alone.
My body laid bare, for the asking.
My hands requesting to obediently serve,
on anonymous screens, no compensation required.
A grave and pendulous weight dragging between my legs.
The cucumbersome weight of my cathartic defilement.
A diseased organ between my ears.
Caught in that black hole,
my soul’s spaghettification.
Time wore on, the unseen eyes multiplying.
Demands getting out of hand,
stretching even the limits of my self-destruction.
“It’s 1:30 pm, gimme some lunch.”
“It’s 7:30 pm, I’ve got a sweet tooth.”
“It’s 11:30 pm, show me a story?”
“It’s 3:15 am, help me get some sleep?”
Even my pain drained away from me,
as my insides had, without count.
My soul, also ejecting away from me in fragments.
The catharsis transmuted into self-hate,
and so the coil twisted tighter,
I’d mistaken that numbness for catharsis.
Piece by piece becoming a useful, well used vessel.
A brush with death saved my life.
Seizing my mind and body
in every sense I could illustrate.
A convalescence began, seeding love.
My once desolate heart, fallowed, now fertile.
Love now sustains me. Though I’m a vessel still,
but now for healing, knowing shame intimately, without terror.
I bring it into the light, letting compassion overflow.
Cycling forward to completeness once more, finally whole again.
Smothering white innocense
Soft as the fur above the paw
And we forssook our defense
To print tracks of joy in the raw
Cold freedom of your sweet pile
Until the sun differently shows
Our fairy fantasy in its hot defile
Emotion melts like sudden snows
You are so tense,
cos you are so tender
Deep inside
into the melody and structure of your soul
which as a sort of translucent musical instrument
away to be fine tuned
and there’s no one else that will do
the way you do,
you will get the hints, to help you
but the final part, of your soul tuning
is up to you.. and your body senses
and no excuses
cos they help in no way
and no somebody’s else dullness or smartness
but your own flamboyant self
regardless of inexplicably shiny shadows
loosing the pace but never in forgiveness
to the piety succumbing filth of bloodthirsty altars
so think of millions of lost and found pieces
in radiance never to be completed
but always on their way
to revoke your peaceful saturation
to the one and one, or the other, but never yours
sincerely and kindly
peaks above peaks
with the coldness getting under your skin
chill of hanged love
creeping though hardly breathing
peak above peaks
master Kethmandu.
I’m the tallest
cos there’s rocks and rocks,
been thrown my way
so I could stand them up
and use the newly acquired high...
high altitude vocation to do
some power and maintenance
outspoken turbulence
as if ...in life we die
Endurance is a golden key
which opens many doors
are the passages to and from
where we will
are meant to
or want to
some of them are only to be opened
and never ever closed but less clearer
some of them by being
looked inside and closed forever
and ever to be fueled
with the greatest mysteries
that sprouted in a shroomy way
hideously laughing round
unfolding themselves, .. to him
to his overwhelming feeling
of achievement, of real work done
by a real mastery right hand
in the right sphere
under the lamp post
of collisions between
aversion and curiosity.
I could make excuses
Or claim I was possessed
But fact would find its way out
Of duplicity confessed
So I will speak those truths
Clandestine in my past
Although far from my first mistakes
I vow each one the last
I have worshiped money
My words have been profane
I have ignored the Sabbath
And caused my parents pain
I’ve smashed some helpless insects
Thought things much less than pure
I’ve pilfered things that were not mine
Because I wanted more
I’ve lied for no good reason
Desired someone’s spouse
I've longed for their possessions
And coveted their house
My excuse has been I’m human
An average bipedal fool
The Lord made only ten mandates
I’ve fractured every rule
Yet God is ever merciful
So I strive every day
To keep all Ten Commandments
Past tense is past… I pray
I don’t understand the past tense.
Why is it that fight is fought?
And catch is caught when liked for like is right.
And what about sighted is that a past tense of sight?
The list is endless, and I spent hours amazed by all of it.
It was worse than a stinky sweaty work-out so I sweated!
Notice the t is pronounced so it’s Ted not “Ed” at the end of it.
But Ted and Ed sometimes have a rest when “En,” “O” and “A” led.
Yes, they led well, so that steal is not stealed but stolen or stole,
Then the A appeared when run is ran not runned.
The O was the big boy with write when he trumped wrote over writed.
I’m tired of this mess, so I’ll just let my ESL teacher do the word roll.
Yesterday,
Today,
Tomorrow,
I love you.
Certainty, not hope,
Knowledge, not belief.
I,
You,
He, she,
We
Love, present tense.
Sure.
Past Tense
The pain and this grief is held close
to my chest is, all that is left is
becomes past tense.
Memory now vanishing, this work
of remembering is love
without vibrancy, vitality or motion.
No aroma of the moment is more
smelling than thinking is.
All that is left is
Clenching a shadow not
caressing her flesh, is
all that is left is;
Another kind of slow death is
disappearing until love is
just another word again.
You keep on saying that you want to come back,
But am really scared and confused because your heart seems so black.
They say red means danger, but I know black means death.
Not taking that chance to make you take my last breath.
Your a great girl in some ways! Trust me I have to admit.
But what I wanted most was your feelings,and I didn't feel that one bit.
People come and goes, hearts beat and stop.
I think the "I love you" word is just a bunch a crooop.
Love is just a word use to captivate one's mind,
But a true "I love you" I guarantee you will never find.
Looks are deceiving, so are words put together,
The first thing you wanted us to do was to be one forever.
Sometimes i am sure of things, because I think before I act,
Would u take a shot for me? "Yes". Now I don't know if that's a fact.
You have left me in a hole left for dead,
I have stressed too much its time to take you out of my head.
Sorry!It's over! Still sorry its over!
I am tired of these trust issues.
Tired of seeing our relationship imitating wet tissues.
Dry for a while but when wet fade away.
Now you have given me me a heart like ice in a frozen tray.
Never the less I will always respect you,
Please try not to let trouble neglect you,
I will pray each day that angel protect you,
And if that day comes heaven accept you!