Long In real time Poems
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Time is a funny thing,
time does not always seem real.
Governments and their rulers,
come and go.
Some are good to their people and country,
while others only destroy.
Can they be brought to their knees,
maybe ~ sometimes?
When we are living in today,
we have real time.
Can we now see or understand,
the many years that will come?
Then one day we awaken,
to that far off date.
Now here in the new real time of 2025,
we say where did all the time go?
In their day many read the book 1984,
some laughed at it as it was the talk of the town.
Some saying,
this would never happen.
Now in real time of 2025,
many years later what do we find?
Today many are saying,
we are now living in this book of 1984.
The question is,
are we?
Some say yes,
others still feel it was just a crazy book.
Have you read it,
only the reader can decide.
Wish I, a journal of my days, had kept
from my teen years until the present time;
I'd have a way to view and intercept
each memory by date- a gift sublime.
Be able to flip back on pages bound;
recall those facts my mind, in time erased.
The story of my life would then be found
in written words- in real-time, be based.
A day, a week, a month, a year- review
the felt emotions then expressed each day;
for most of them, long gone or faded, flew
so far beyond what memories convey.
My journal- snapshot of each day that passed-
the good, the bad, and all those in between;
the story of my life, through words, recast-
to let what's known, what's buried, reconvene.
Summertime in a school. A butterfly is hopping on a beautiful flower, a real magic moment with lots and lots of green, a moment can be a nap time too, with a dream effect in real time zone.
O baby boy, tell me please, what do you see?
A little bright sky, chirping with a bird effect, from a distant memory.
O baby boy, tell me please, is it too far away?
O , I don’t know, mom, I don’t know, it is perhaps only a day away!
Sometimes, you just keep on running and running and running. I don’t know and you don’t know, but we all run, we keep on inhaling and exhaling and we just keep on running. A world awaits with a soil, for us in sublimation, for us in humility, it finds us barefooted, and we keep on running, running and running. A friend who runs with you on that moment, must be a true friend. A friend who sees the world around you, with your vision must be a true friend, indeed. The little hands are the strongest hand, that touch us somewhere deep inside, in observation, and in need of more observation of the innermost soul to be believing in goodness, grace and in fortitude too.
O baby boy, please tell me, will you be there with me, on that day?
I don’t know, mom, I don’t know, hold my hands to make a wishful day!!!
R-emember the day,
O-ne event I won't forget;
D-ay when you were born,
R-ight here on our planet.
I-'ll still remember the day,
G-azing at the wide blue sky;
O-ne lane accommodates the birds that chirp and fly so high.
P-ray to remember the day,
O-ne request to the Lord;
M-ay He give you long life
A-s you follow His word.
R-ise to remember the day,
C-alling upon God's name;
A-s you wake up from bed, the sun starts to burn his flame.
S-eventeenth morn in July,
A-llow me to remember the day;
L-et me pen a cram rhyme,
A-nd send it to you all the way.
Z-ealously I complete my work,
A-ll the lines I want to say;
R-eady in real time I gladly post, for I always remember the day.
sitting
thinking
watching
what goes
on and on every
day but at such a rate
of speed
time exceeding
light might this be
how time travel feels
from my bench speedily
future time lapse seems to be
feeding
pigeons rapidly
so dastardly so to
be throwing seeds
at machine gun speeds
as if to kill but will reverse
the clock
slower until
turning over time
until going backwards
with words now in past tense
tension making me think who i was
so as if
in Dickens
to see my beginnings
begin again watching myelf
watching television of a given year
'77 a Czechoslovakian movie remembered
"Tomorrow
I Will Wake and
Scaled Myself With
Tea" though really it's
coffee but time travel is
so exhausting forgetting
forgotten
some simple
memories that
flash before me
still presently sitting
on a park bench in real-time
Form:
Ask for clear writes to word the fact,
Scene after scene move in real time;
Trip after trip cite bold moving pact,
One touch within can spur bold chimes;
Urge frames the lines with ink flow sketch,
Notice the burst of thoughts that wing;
Deed feels most fine in candid match,
Insight feeds thirst with plots that fling;
Notes in fine wit can shape and tell,
Give vibrant lot a spread of change.
Pleasure firms fit as grand tales sell,
Explore firm plots that claim life strange;
Ascend and see that mystic air,
Keep kind beauty as truth funds flair.
Leon Enriquez
07 July 2015
Singapore
‘Sankofa’ In 'Safranbolu'
This bird from Ghana’s legends flies forward looking backward
In the Twi language twinned with indigenous souls and wisdom
the feathered friend suggests to go back and get it and I suppose
some fly backwards while looking ahead but then life is not only
Chronos but 'Kairos' with the meter entwined and composed
At this precise moment not alone in this moving instant it waves
and oscillates conjoining what was and will be when the present
is the past in a flash and one cannot step into the same river again
yet the future is shaped by the past the here and now a 'Kairometer'
transcending artefacts and boundaries into ‘truths’ and reality
The bird flies and time flows back and beyond near and far
further on wings and pinions with roots at heart
In ‘Safranbolu’ the ancient Ottoman town on the Black Sea Coast
and thus close to Ghana in real time place and connection
the old man had been tending the clock in the tower both man and
the turret free standing and wise still present and one
‘Seventy years’ as he explained pendulum hands and the wheels
What memories pride mechanics precision preserved aspiration and
dignity flying into the face of the clock and the distortions of time
Mustafa had climbed those steps so often had rung the bell
oiled the time keeper had not forgotten a day of his duties
had become one with the time piece and stood still many times
in awe of monument and pacing the sleepy old town yet
he flew forward so peacefully looking back in retrospect and respect
He has watched birds history duration impermanence imprinting the
meaning of a life worthy of living in honour of what is the present
20th November in all past and future revisited
closest to the beginning
it was demonstrated through
each defining word
spoken, until each person
heard his or her's function
either solution
settled each problem
these beginnings different
and each ending different
similarities and differences
these to extract the pure pungent flavor
of the essence of it's potency.
exploration into new functions
each part to demonstrate difference and resolve
each ending
that they are never same but seen
as familiar
right in right times
best and bragged on
researched and sketched
modeled
and drawn
right for in all times
yet these clays shall be shaped into
perfect figures
and their distinction shall be examined
through
there similarity
and marveled for there difference
beyond the measure
might the world
see as we do
this is right for all times
and awarded because of
right in real time
seen in contest
examined and spoken as magnificent
great, and best!
speak me in these words that I am best!
speak me in the words that I am right for all times
a champion amiss my contenders
right in these times
that those in future times might
say he would be best now!
each word defined
each movement examined
the results of each maneuver tested
that these contenders ranked from their abilities
are contested to determine who is greatest among these few
that the whole of these parts
are joined together
to mecognize from
recognition
the might of the spectical at hand
cog by cog
spoke by spoke
grese the wheel that I might start again
doing the thing that the creator
found need to create for
fuction to function
seen as best in the world
and the very best in this time
(Sing to the tune "American Pie.)
I long, long time ago, I can still remember when,
Junk food made me smile,
And I knew if I had a chance,
That I could make my fatness dance,
And maybe I was happy for a while,
But McDonald's made me shiver,
With every burger they'd deliver,
Bad news on their doorstep,
I couldn't take one more step,
I can't remember if I cried,
When I passed size twenty-five,
But something touched me deep inside,
The day I knocked back French fries.
CHORUS....
So, bye, bye, McDonald's French fries,
Drove my chevy away from McDonald's,
didn't have a bevy,
I said goodbye to whiskey and rye,
Singing no more apple pies,
That's the end of obesity fries....
Did you go to McDonald's biomes?
Did you know you're changing your genomes?
Eating all those pesticides?
Now do you believe they love you guys?
Might as well eat dead flies!
And can you change evolution in real time?
CHORUS.......
I was an obese teenage bronco buck,
Driving to McDonald's in a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck,
The day I ate landfill in those French fries...
I started singing bye, bye obesity fries,
Drove my chevy, had no bevies,
And the burgers were dry,
This is the day I knock back French fries.
CHORUS.......
I met a girl who sang the blues,
]She'd passed turning size twenty-two,
I asked her if she ate junk food too,
She just smiled and drove away,
I drove down to the store no more,
Where I ate additives years before,
But the junk food store didn't care anyway...
CHORUS, CHORUS.....
Our time
Begins with our first heart beat eighteen
To twenty two days after conception the hour
Glass drops the first sand in our life line
Which is very fine
It has been dropped in real time
Not with our first breath in time.
It's all in align.
Our time
Has no rain checks, I.O.U.'s or is a paradigm
So don't wish it away this is your gold mine
It's real time.
In the meantime
Splurge! Once in awhile don't always nickel
and dime.
Don't mess it up with grime
Or crime.
This is real time
Bottom line
We all get what we were assigned.
When our heart stops beating so does the
Sands of time.