Best Timewords Poems
My ideas bounce off my words echoing the future onto the page
As my clarity begins to age
Into a rage
Where water doesn’t flow
But sprays
You attempt to duck out of the way
As I attempt to say what I must say
But instead I spray
And there it lay
Messily across your face
My image of this mental place
You struggle to wipe it clear as I heretically steer
Through this commotion of gasoline emotion
Riding on metallic sharks
That are surfing on cascading sparks
I cast my vision down below into the lake
Catching my words becoming humming birds
flying as ripples in my wake
They elegantly twist and curve in every dimension in space
But only one in time
Forwards
Towards
The jagged shores
Where we of every kind
Must forfeit both body and mind.
They say this will all make sense one day
He told me words of mind, words of worlds,
with the sound so familiar, echoing that we are not alone
I gazed, trying to find the hint, the rise.
From the window i watched, looking on the inside of your world
Such terror you see, and all i could find
were perfect skies, reflecting what is out there
But from your window, you knew these skies were hanging low
Our time was endless. Your spirit was forever.
Stuck to my heart, i never felt the hit.
As i rose above, i never thought i'd fall.
I never thought the ring worn so tightly around my finger would live on,
as you passed by.
Never, i would tell myself.
I would never forget, or replace our laughs.
The sound of our interrupting thoughts,
clashing at one another like a runaway train against soft rain.
We had lost our maps. We had lost all sight. All sanity.
The storm arose, as i sat in bed breathing.
My body aching, thoughts numbing my mind.
When will i wake from being awake?
Lying in a puddle, i search for the answers.
I beg for solutions, while tumbling over faults of my own.
Emotions tangled up inside of my stomach
like a ball of rubber-bands
Toxic to my health, they try to retrace the bonds
but they don't know where to start.
Nothing left but memories, All that's left is a four letter word.
Hush.
Laid up in bed these couple of days,
I’ve seen the passing of the sun’s rays.
Much time to think as each night time nears,
I search the state of my hopes and fears.
The rule of nine guides these lines I write
even as these words now come to light.
The words before me or so they seem
could make this poem a writer’s dream.
It would be nice with nothing to do
but sit and write till each day is through.
No permanent sanctum do I find
in this with other things on my mind.
I’ll write these words as they come to me
and take advantage of time that’s free.
Still, other things contend for “my view”
so I’ll search the road my thoughts lead to.
Connections day by day,
Lead us one by one into the words we say.
Looking into another’s eyes,
So clearly understanding their story as time flies.
Flies so quickly that one word can’t be taken back,
As some stand still wishing they didn’t lack.
Lack in the understanding of the importance of time,
As the reality sets in it can make or break the rhyme.
So hit the pause button and sit back and relax,
As we choose with pen in hand which words to fax.
Knowing fine print cannot be erased,
Just as words have to be faced.
As there are millions of different words to say,
And different tones that can be put into play.
Which will you choose from here on out,
Because what’s been done is done and can’t have a new route.
So as we’re paused in life-sitting back,
REMEMBER that we all have something lack.
No matter who looks you in the eyes,
Time will still be moving-so choose to be wise.
Put the next minute, the next moment into consideration,
As for how we say something-someone else has a different translation.
This is why time will tell,
If you did your part in the armor we wear, our shell.
Our shell that holds wisdom and understanding of all,
As we shake up our chances in an eight ball.
So as the rhyming is about to end,
And each one of us won’t have that pause button to send,
Remember this- don’t lay out words that can hurt another’s soul,
Or you’ll be the one sitting in time wishing you could go back, only having the choice
to see the words as a scroll.
when inspiration strikes it is usually ignored
to busy for words are usually the thought
but what if we stopped and wrote inspiration down
would it bring tears to the boxer
or maybe make footballers cry?
the words of courage and hope they could bring
but time is precious and can get in the way
so the words that strike are lost...
lost...
lost...
...in time forever
So interesting...
I look at my memory sheet
I sigh
Those words are so.....late
Why did you wait?
What were you thinking....seriously?!
The setting was awkward but... :-)
will definitely be memorable.
I look at my memory sheet...
you struggle for words to describe
a connection
i hide
painfully i watch you
my moments are few
I look at my memory sheet
hoping that one more line could be added
until there's reason to pull it out again.
In a spaceship he traveled
On the moon he landed
Floating was exquisite
He couldn’t turn towards the exist
Ten days were all he had
To discover the moon’s sand
One day, a voice was heard somewhere near
Yet it wasn’t pretty clear
He closed his eyes
To focus and identify the voice’s lullaby
Slowly, it was so lucid
Engulfing him with words that were so placid
Every night he stood at the same spot
Where he heard the voice’s plot
Every night he thought deeply
To decipher the words he understood so feebly
Ten days passed
And it was time to go back to his homely land
He couldn’t wait to get an answer
To what he heard on the specific borders
Indeed it was a matter of time
When the answers were ready and sublime
For when he heard the justification
His life changed and his path became towards the righteous station
Early in the morning
On the fourth day of the week
All in the house fast asleep
Even the counting sheep
Doves not cooing
Birds not singing
Moon not shining
I am pining
For the words lost
When the computer went down
Then restarted
From the ground
Wished words were saved
I thought they expressed
All the pent-up restlessness
From the night that I hadn't slept
Mysterious days, majestic nights
The words used to describe them do not seem quite right
For how can it be that night is ‘majestic’?
It is always seen as a thought, pessimistic!
Now the days, so to speak, are seen as the good
A title claimed so that the night never could
Therefore why is it seen as mysterious?
The amount of activity can make one delirious
For one does not notice a ghoul in the day
Although darkness may linger and wait for its prey
And then in the night, what lovely evening it ‘twas!
Not romance at dawn, but romance at dusk
For the dangers arise as the world is at work
Tempers are not hidden behind that smile nor smirk
But the nighttime comes with a goal to rest
Those weary backs and that heavy chest
Due to the fact, it takes a big heart
To go up from the start
Let words be words and actions be actions
Do not give in to others’ self satisfaction
Demons call you names and try their art of depression
Their devious ways and evil obsession
Cause more pain to some and the cost of close friends
Who then will question if they will stay close through the end
Mysterious days cause majestic nights to truly be seen
As something bad, evil, or dirty, not clean
But it fact, it is the day that causes the night
To be filled with fear and surrounded by fright!
Where words are a given to be written
Like dreams are a given to be seen
Of moments lying arcross the distance
Where is the time within?
There hides a voice to be heard
Like darkness unnotice from a shading light
The mind is only mindful of the weird
Yet where belongs the dark… in the night?
And sleep has fail to veil once more
Like an imagination towards neverending time
Where thoughts do not return to recall
Where is the light, to have darkness shine?
In silence do images tend to appear!
Like shadows gracing the solemn walls
Reliving sins to never again fear
And where belongs truly, those pictures from before?
Moments are a given to be written
As words are a given to be seen
Of dreams lying across the distance
When is the time atween?
Its hard to change who we are..
When the people we know see the scars..
Reflections in a mirror don't look the same today..
Our mind has changed with different words to say..
A man who looked at life through a scope..
Has now found a new world through words and hope..
A part of me will stay the same, but now with words
I'm in a different game...
Once a clown in a room that kept everyone laughing..
But now I search for words for a better ending..
Its nice to grow and change our desires..
But now the old and the new have just crossed wires..
So enjoy these times and let your mind grow..
We are now on a ride from highs to the low...