Time is very much like a RIVER
Throwing up GHOSTS to make us SHIVER
And leaves us sweating and COLD
How many like Faust have their souls sold?
DELIVERING webs so WICKED
With no return journey,life is but a one way ticket
That the mind freezes
And our world teases
So many with a tormented mind
From which rarely can they solace find
How can we escape this cold phantasmagoria
To translate it into full blown ecstatic euphoria ?
There never can be a proper escape
From time's oppressive chronological rape
Diaries left open and letters framed,
chronological ink waving from a horizon, gone.
Clothes hung to recreate a wedding, a dance, a touch –
enclosed in glass cases to trap the scent inside.
There’s a recording of his voice that skips
back through time. Her handprint in clay, cracked.
That first glass of wine, now cobwebbed, stained red,
next to teenage car keys rusted.
A prescription acts as evidence I tried.
Sawdust forms a path between pets
and my Walkman makes youth balk;
to them my VHS collection is alien.
Postcards curled from saltwater offer perfect snapshots
years before we scrolled for one.
A mortarboard on display alongside a bus pass, front door key and bank card.
A blade of Sefton Park grass pinned down like the wings of a butterfly.
Receipts of apologies. Candleholders waxed in missteps.
Maybe, one day, there’ll be a travelling exhibit where I finally get to meet you.
And the curator will add you, title card and all, to this museum of me.
And so it goes. Seated, contemplative. A sudden cacophony abiding. Many floods ebb then flow; good/bad. Memories distilled, truth distorts. Folly found fair ‘gainst fear flames fanned. Shame ignorance opened, book bound veracity logged. Guardrails bent, bowed, betray. Step, then step again, mindlessly tumbling ‘cross lifescape willy, tilting nilly. Ramble shambles consequences unvetted. Year strategy unfolds unscripted. And then once more. The chronological avalanche swift recall swipes quickly to next. Where I have been, never again, yet reminiscent, always. Trails erased and failed anew. Aging days no longer brighter, burning coals dim to ash till heat demise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
erosion attitude
season’s grind edges away
saves stack each upon each
Is full of concealment,
form, and void. A
plane of darkness
where immortals
descended from grace,
as their flames lay
buried under their temples
and forgotten by.
Intertwining within the
heart of matter lies
the key to hidden wisdom
hidden in darkness,
opaqued by the initiates.
Man's own unreality makes
him subject to the illusions,
as if he is a prey
of his own web.
He relies deeply upon
his faculties and go
against his own will as
he repositions his
chronological orders by
impeding upon the inevitability
as he becomes the cause
of his own effect.
Once the man soul
has ripened with knowledge
and wisdom, he is then
pluck like an apple,
ready to be harvested, then
assembling back to
the lake of fire,
from which he cometh.
fist full of cash
tray full of ash
dinner served with couch burns
toilet time with one ticket left
clean up time dishes make the mess
tick tock is the clock watch tv do house work till bed
where's the freedom is there anything out there
past mental brutality's i hit reality i cant get away from this
routine chronological simply unstoppable
there has to be more to life
than this simple minded strife
a neighbor here a movie night out there
but i see no freedom anywhere
all i see is my brother Tim coming through the door he looks so sad i wonder what its for he said now Jim look outside the box you live your whole life on a rotting thought
there is more you just don't see you could be starving like bill and me
you could have no toilet and no tv to watch
no bed to lay in or sheets pulled tot no cigarettes' your lungs could wither with disease butts filled with gonorrhea syphilis's unseen
this simple routine between you and me its the best part of life you just have to see
Cleopatra ruler
Captivating beauty
Collected four husband
Caesar was her lover
Claimed Caesarion son
Crucial Roman nation
Chose Mark Antony last
10/21/2020
Cleopatra VII Philopator (Koine Greek: ??e?p?t?a F???p?t??, Kleopátra Philopátor;[5] 69 – 10 or 12 August 30 BC)[note 2] was the last active ruler of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt.
Cleopatra's husbands were (in chronological order)
1. Ptolemy XIII - he drowned in 47 BC
2. Ptolemy XIV - he was allegedly poisoned in c. 44 BC
3. Julius Caesar - he was assassinated in Rome in 44 BC
4. Mark Antony - he committed a suicide following a crucial defeat from Octavian in 31 BC
Within oppressive oblivious organisms,
a tyrannical tormentor here lies;
Amidst the scheming sinister schisms,
another moment within us dies…
Reflecting resistance upon dualisms,
the chasm clock brings our demise;
Where present perpendicular prisms,
create illusions in their disguise.
Barbarian black holes in their abyss,
ruins of ticking tyrants regurgitate;
Annihilator’s of the past in their bliss,
for time devours all to recreate…
Death and destruction a Judas kiss,
as the giants gorge and alienate;
In purgatory, we shall reminisce,
forever’s are gone as they separate…
A chronological continuance abides,
escaping from the eternal abode;
Thoughts lost as destiny divides,
infinite space sequestered to erode…
Dreams dormant the universe slides,
consciousness begins to corrode;
I shall soon disappear with the tides,
for my words will now implode.
June.30.2020
Time- 8 Word Challenge
Sponsored by~ A Dear Heart
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Amidst the vortex of empty time, going back a calumnious climb,
To change a love my only crime, sweet surrender of life sublime…
The Time Machines are ready still, sending me back upon my will,
To gain back love I shall fulfill, amongst meadows of the daffodil.
Evaporating reflections in my eyes, hands of time turning clockwise,
May the love we had apprise, as I look at the darkened distant skies…
The stars align for I await and the planets rebuttal in their debate,
The Time Keepers guard the gate, within their arms I leave my fate.
In perpetuation of times expanse, chronological clocks in romance,
Cupid’s arrow is ready to lance, while my heart prepares to dance…
I approach my love once more, will their love palpitate with a pour,
Guardians of time open their door as I awake out of bed on the floor.
Oct.07.2019
...turn back the hands of time
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
Time is
From Inception to Demise
Written; by Tom Wright
January 2015
Time’s Chronological order is,
From future, to present, to past
Making our allotment to be,
From when we are, until when we were.
Its pace is un-slowing, and duration unknown,
We never share it, or save it, but expend it.
We often abuse, but will leave none unused.
Only God knows our un-numbered minutes.
Because He is the custodian of all time;
I believe God has granted man guardianship,
With the knowledge and responsibility of building,
And utilizing the clock for our earthly purposes;
Numbers come from a singularity at sea
Grow into oceans numerically speaking
Fluent in the foreign language of Chronology
Born from an original source sequentially conceived
Sometimes repeating calculus because they can
Starting out as the number one and counting
Figures break down into fractions
That hatch from shells on the banks of logic
Mathematical equations have solid names
John and Mary are not among them
Algebra is also not related at this time
However, Algebraic expressions seem human
When written as a quotient of polynomials
Rational and irrational as they may appear
Numerical oceans floating on logic surround us
It is hard to grasp such fluid objects in motion
Chronological or otherwise they still come
One after another exponentially counting down
Dividing by ten to get to the sum of the day
Just as rain
numbs into nothing
with the passage of time,
after the first drops have fallen
and made their impression,
[What is a little more water,
when you're already wet?]
my heart stopped jumping
at each chronological backfire
of my mind
and simply beats twice;
once for each moment
gone missing.
[But then, when
- and if -
am I living?]
Just as droplets
gradually become puddles,
that fall into streams
and pour into lakes,
we assume
the sustenance to keep noticing
the retrospection which falls
from the hazy grey veils
congregated in the sky.
[And we finally get the chance
to love
what was once before our eyes.]
problems are many
but with the pen my problems are semi
living life one page at a time
trying to stay in a straight line
consider me after you know my problems
with God I’m stronger, and my mind softens
he makes me not a monster
helping me to be somewhat smarter
was south bound straight to a dark place
was going north erasing my mind staying in space
counting the pain in chronological order
defining my bipolar disorder
flip a switch and I see red
unrational fears in my head
pouring my soul to a higher power
time after time my prayers got louder
sometimes crying in mental pain
but my reasons are not in vain
never really showing emotion
because inside I know something is broken
but not all is lost
man if it was not for god my life would be tossed
realization is the key to empowerment
and empowerment is the key to betterment
until I’m gone and over
I remain a soldier
Polar.
Its time to come out and get live
I have my head held high with the Masaih by my side
false prophets mix cyanide with kool aid
revelation will stop preachers who preach to get paid
killing the infester with raid
bibliographer if i had the chance to take pictures of people in the old testament
i would probably be a photographer
i put everything in chronological order
they say that the true can only cross the heavenly boarder
i keep it straight lost fate for hell to contemplate
split decision dramatic vision the thoughts of Satan are locked up in prison
you need to come back down to earth
that is not why mothers give birth
to have their children cursed growing up to be lunatic
kids in mini skirts
everything i say is to real it hurts like you get turned down in front of friends from a girl that flirts
you need to quit worrying about them worldly things
why should you show your status with them diamond rings
the only thing that money seems to bring
is one night flings
pray. -TA
The summer's gone -
She's left again
Taken her green songs
and walked away
She's left behind
an aging maid
who drifts around
in golds and browns
Yet life's love song
will linger on-
With you around,
Summer's never gone
Our world has lost
it's lively ways
Life grown quiet
in Winter's haze
Day's hours too short
Dark nights too cold
Though I'll stay warm
in love's safe hold
Yes, life's love song
Will linger on
Love lasts with more
than summer's song
Spring must come back
soon soothe away
Old Winter's frown,-
Her blacks and greys.
A fresh new song
will free the ground
And fill the air
With Summer's sounds
So life's love song
makes the season's one
They pass as years,
Love's song lingers on.
Posted: 13/10/2017
Written in 1976-for my first husband.
I have been writing poetry since I was sixteen.
Never posted most of it, so "older"poems will now be dated in chronological order of writing.
We’re the chariots of fire that feeds the human spirit
We’ve made the open road our number one sport
We thirst for the eye stinging, soaking buckets of sweat
And find the bitter pain of our aching muscles sweet
We defy gravity with each effortless stride
And set new personal best(s) with glory and pride
We have the beating of our chronological age
We remain true to our roots, our human heritage
We’re Runners
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