Let the brief time be cast away,
Let the movable thread be loosely handled,
Let the shadow be cast on you,
Let the water flow over the distant edges.
But when you know you’ll never get the wanderer back,
Even as you cast him off,
When you tally the drifters,
They’re all misplaced and undone.
The Moirai will let him go,
Because, you know,
You only need him when the lights are burning low,
And sympathy wears veils no daylight wants to show.
His shadow is turning into a gyre,
Spin after spin;
Wearing lonesome attire,
Only his body is the circling machine.
His dreams come slow,
But they go so fast.
Perhaps they were never his,
Just echoes in the gyre’s turning shadow.
Miserable MONDAY
Torrid TUESDAY
Woeful WEDNESDAY
Terrible THURSDAY
Frenzied FRIDAY
Sorrowful SATURDAY
SUBLIME SUNDAY....carpe diem PRAISE THE LORD
Wind,
look how
wild it blows
across the waves;
Ancient melody;
A song of catharsis,
whitecaps wash the pain away;
The innate noise bestowed on you
it cancels out the internal drum;
Ocean breezy circadian rhythms.
circadian crow
contoured cock hails sunburst dawn…
windmill churns gleamed cloud
April 27, 2020
Syllable count : 5/7/5
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : Morning Praise
Sponsor : Raul Moreno
Doctor, my
'Saccadian rhythms'
Eyes, not ears...
"50 Words for Poe: Circadian"
He pushed the envelope under her door
when she opened it, in her Ghost hands,
it read,
“Circadian nymph,
put on your dance shoes,
collect you at 3.33am.
Downtown Trotters Ghost Ball.
No pesky green Fairies riding Unicorns.
Affectionately yours,
Your Doctor -
Lucifer”
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/iyRbigv8iho
“I have a flamethrower. (Zarek)
You have a what? (Astrid)
It pays to be prepared. (Zarek)"
Dance with the Devil
The circadian rhythms of birth, death, and eternity,
Play on in the sunrise of time:
The dread of winter left you naked and bare;
Your bark skin, scale-like, and wrinkle knotted.
Then came the spring of life clothing you
With appetite foliage attracting nature's children
To your warm and nourishing bosom.
Now in the autumn of your life, you ape graying age
With rainbow-hued fronds hanging and dropping
Their Joseph Coat carpeting on Mother Earth's floor.
Creeping out from behind the clouds, old winter
Slowly reboard the cooling winds of change:
Firmly rooted, you proudly stand, arms swaying
To the circadian rhythms of the sunrise of time.
Blaring klaxons rouse the weary
Fumble for steaming mug of pain
Stiletto sunrise, eyes bleary
Sandman’s Valium starts to drain
Resplendent youth line up for inculcation
Foreheads kissed, lunchboxes brimming
Then practiced subroutines of remuneration
Contentious jockeying, sinking/swimming
A million convocations for stricken minds
Urgent catharsis, and perhaps, listening
Long awaited liaisons, pairs entwined
Pheromonal interweaving, skin glistening
Round beer babies nursing towards sleep
Gluttonous eyes devour psychedelic flashes
Daydreams of love, wide and deep
Half-empty bottles, faint taste of ashes
3/7/16
lessons in circadian rhythms of life…
here
all
alone
in the crowd
of my thoughts
my mind
weaves through
the present wave of time
shaping fragile realities
from the bitter sweep cup
of life’s circadian experiences
all of which
whose lessons
are yet to be discerned.
Down the street at the corner, the sodium
Streetlight casts an eerie-yellow glow on the sidewalk
Below, a feint hissing sound emanating from escaped
Gasses. Up the stairs, just a few feet away, I'm narrating
A sequence of myself carrying a large kettle filled with
Chili, my look confident, my shirt spattered with
Bubbling sauce, unseen are the remnants of the
Bomb
Blast...blood-stained parts of a little boy's shoes, fallen
Off as he crawled home, not quite to the door.
Sleeplessness, a byproduct of artificial LED lighting,
Historians
Agreed
Where hand -held devices and
Computer screens disrupted tidal waves in our brains,
Leading to irrational decisions by our
Leaders, dooming
Civilizations not yet born,
New, 6-handed life forms were
Imported from other planets
Un-earthing gold and iridium, along
With relics from the 21st. century,
In an effort to more
Accurately erect memorials to a
Vanished society,
The
Chili
Was
Good
11/8/14
© james marshall goff
Tossing and turning
I'm here in my bed
Twisting and rolling
With a vice on my head
I'm missing the fun
And appointments with life
But I sleep through the day
And I pace through the night
Check the time, what's the time
My head is too heavy
Hearing rush hour traffic
Is it Monday already
Who's knocking!? Stop knocking
At noon with your fist!
Your a scoundrel to bug me
So early like this!
This unwelcome sunlight
Has my tired soul scheming
To get to my bed
Where I could be dreaming
By Kyle Ezra Kriticos
Well versed are traversed
.....the fully immersed,
versatile thru the turnstiles
left behind are footprints
that go on for miles....
Magnetic is the wheel
that you constantly feel
circadian is the rhythm
....souls migratory zeal,
compasses direction
.......in chaotic spin,
intoxication is the motion
unknowing whereupon to begin....
The flow of the energy,
eventually pulls....
unified synergy,
lifting heads above in lull......
A humming-bird hums
A harmonious hymn-
Of circadian rhythm
And alleviates tension !
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