Borrowed Poems - Poems about Borrowed

The Architect of Morning

What if dawn delays at my pane,
Fearing dreams too long displaced?
I send my shadow down the lane—
It knows the streets I’ve never faced.

My homeland breathes in mother’s tea,
Its edges traced by grief and flame.
Each night the map reshapes for me,
Erasing paths I cannot name.

We built a house from borrowed years,
Rooms filled with seasons touched by

Aphorism Hubris Catharisis

An empty room
Standing center stage
She waited for her cue
bassoon in hand
She breathed life into
"MI Stro" a ballad by
Piffston Grisser"
A song which curated
More than four minutes
She incorporated
    " it's gotta be" 
by Danny Dewmore
A very popular song
To the delight of those
In attendance and to those
Who were to view the film
The staff stood and

On Borrowed Time

On Borrowed Time 
This clay body doesn’t even belong to me 
Days are passing me by 
No point on chasing after the wind 
No one cares about your achievements 
No one passed by my grave in the pouring rain 
Empty dreams 
Empty plots are inviting 
My days are numbered 
Burial gates are on standby 
Darkness

Borrowed Time

A FLOWER THAT BLOOMS

God sees your life as a flower
That sprouts, grows, blooms, wilts, withers, and dies in one Day.

And it is not so much the way the Lord sees how you were Rooted to the world

But,

How you attempted to bloom toward the sky.

Whether your stem was broken too soon by an icy storm, Wilted

Something Borrowed

Tick-tock ya can’t rewind
Time doesn’t stop or fall behind
Clock hands cut like a sharpened knife
Time doesn’t lose it runs your life

Born with a cry blink then you're grown
Chasing years you’ll never own
Gold turns gray fast and sly
Can’t outpace it don’t even try

Heroes fall and empires bend
Every story meets its end
Watches shine but they betray
Marking life

Dreams do not belong to me, they are borrowed

Dreams do not belong to me—they are borrowed, woven over time by unseen hands, bearing the secrets of the world,
Voices that sing into my marrow, whispering ancient incantations: "Thus must you excel in the vast universe,"
Success is a slow and silent growth, a seed hidden beneath the soil of dreams, not a dazzling trophy,
And yet,

Borrowed Time

We spend our time on wasted days
And cheaply sell our souls for ways
To cheat the forms of our decline
And stretch the skein of borrowed time

do you remember

do you remember

do you remember...
there were

empty stairways of two flights or more
the sweet aroma from the candy store
endless chatter floating free
from laughing people…like you and me

stolen kisses in the afternoon
on a borrowed blanket from another room
we lost all track of minutes past
hoping minutes and kisses would forever last

do you remember...
there were

raindrops falling all around
and we

She is not impressed by your borrowed brilliance

She is not impressed by your borrowed brilliance,
By the overly polished theories that hang from your lips like cheap jewelry,
No—she feeds on rarer flesh, nourishment for the chosen soul,
She feasts on the marrow of irreversible philosophy, from tongues dead for centuries,
Her crown is forged from papyrus scrolls crumbled by time,
Engraved with equations that keep the

Money Borrowed

Come on brother.  See my need.
You'll get it back, guaranteed.

Money saved, money borrowed -
will I see you tomorrow?

Sure, my friend, it's my pleasure. 
Return it at your leisure. 

Money spent, money borrowed - 
you'll not see me tomorrow. 

Who said it - Shakespeare or Ben Franklin?
Friends no more - take that to the banklin.

EVERTHING IS BORROWED

May we be blessed to comprehend
to one day understand 
what was obvious..what was clear
to the first people who walked this land 

How when we look at time, the air we breathe, 
the rivers, the mountains, 
the trees, the animals…the flowers
there is no mine
there is no yours…

there is only ours.

Borrowed Time

Sorrow and tomorrow, they weigh heavy on my mind
Like a burden I can't seem to leave behind
But in my darkest hour, when all seems lost
I turn to Jesus and he bears the cost

The price of my sins, he paid with his life
And in return, he saved me from eternal strife
So when sorrow comes knocking at

- Borrowed Feathers -

                                          Graceful elegance
           

Borrowed Time

Holding on tight
to each moment before

The test results come
forever unsure

Reprieved for a day
condition unchanged

“Your numbers are stable
— but cancer remains”


(Ronald McDonald House: Phila. Pa, October, 2024)

Borrowed glory

My grandfather’s rocking chair induces,
bliss magnetism to become manifest, 
as vibrations from ancestors borrowed,
transmuting this feeble organic form,
into God’s sublime ethereal light.

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