Long Precious time Poems
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i’m running a little late
six months ago i read
the average life expectancy was 79.5 years
i thought i had time to
finish a couple of home projects,
find and restore that 65 vw bug
i’ve always wanted,
i could get my affairs in order,
make amends where i should,
maybe look up a few folks
i haven’t seen in a while
do a little traveling, go places
i have never been
and get in a few more rounds of golf
it was a good plan
now i read, due to covid
the life expectancy
is down to 74.75 years
i lost 4.5 years getting
my stuff together
now i have to cut my
list down, re-prioritize
the home projects were
aesthetic, curb appeal
the place looks ok now
i had a bug once and rolled it
don’t need any unnecessary
medical expenses,
once i’m gone, i’m won’t care
if my affairs are in alphabetical
or chronological order
let the “heirs apparent” figure them out,
if i hurt or pissed someone off
my going away (read dying) will
surely appease them
as for looking people up i
haven’t seen in awhile,
if they aged like me, i wouldn’t
recognize them anyway
since i don’t fly, traveling means
what i can see by car
and that would take
a lot of precious time
which leaves only golf
with all that other stuff
out of the way
i can double or more
my playing time
All the days of my life, nobody helped me with money except myself and limited, recognized number of family members. I never asked any favor from anybody, but I'm very grateful to God for having very few supportive and loving family members and friends who are still around for me. I may have helped or assisted some people in this world, but I never asked for anything in return.
Your precious time, reading all my works and writings, is already an acknowledgement and appreciation of my presence.
I am still poor with material things up to this day. If you want to help me, any small donation will do.
Thank you for your prayers and GOD be with you always!
Cliff
I am so annoyed
Ringtones I cherished once
are now mere headache,
Buzzing at odd hours
advertisements, bank calls,
saving schemes,
As if being paid
to waste precious time
and annoy people ?
Who gives them numbers?
I simply go crazy........
Social media
so much negativity,
Insensible discussions
biased against some,
Religious issues
put to flame, why ?
To promote hatred
and violence, why ?
I just can't stand........
Where are the owners?
The politicians,
The so called learned,
spreading the fire
and flaring up civil war,
Justice denied,
Corruption flourishes,
Govt offices taking bribe,
I am out of my mind.....
Even the top educated
throw waste on roads,
Spitting and smoking
at public places,
Cry our waters
on getting polluted,
Noise irritates
even the sick at hospitals,
The air we breathe
gases beyond permissible,
Eating up greens
In name of development,
I am so annoyed......
Do we leave to our young,
A world of misery?
Selfishness and hatred?
Poor birds and creatures
on verge of extinction?
Nature crying
exploited mother Earth ?
Wake up wake up,
you hearts bleeding white,
those thoughtless minds,
Wake up wake up,
I am so annoyed.........
Sweet ringtone of my phone......
Lovely morning......
Positivity.......
Written August 5th, 2015
For contest "I am so annoyed" by Mary
Tension crawls into the pores of crashing contemplation
Why has it become so hard to breathe?
If only it was known what this dejected heart is saying
As she sobs poetic lines of wordless woe
She is cradled in the tempo tempest of this reflection
Pulsing in the unfeeling land beyond her bodily home
The blood pumping sweet iron grief spurts
The soles of the feet throb at the impact
As the grass cools only to recall the coldness of the present
The impact…
Of a tear falling to the floor
The droplet so gentle… in clear-watered, grounded rapture
The energy of the sorrow befallen is perilous
One with many roads leading to frail fantasy
Aggravated tear…so atrocious, envious
There is something more whirling in this déjà vu cycle
Being crushed many times
By lackadaisical, ever-traveling minds
It is too easy to be tossed to and fro
Between conscious leisure and provocative pressure
Sub-dominated by sumptuous conviction
That word—love—a furtive dagger
Driving a gaping hole of shame and unknowing
Straight into her
Wracking around in this meddle
Of emotion and reason—shooting up falsehood full throttle
Drifting there again
In a solitude almost consoled by the earthy coldness
Of his fowl glare…
Every unsaid word frazzling to the mind
Tearing me and lifting me high
One must wonder if you watch as the fragments fly
As they float for only a few seconds
Of your precious time
And fall back down below
At your very feet
Where the grass is warm, and hopes are high
Please don’t leave them on the floor with the tear
The tear that never quite gets absorbed
The tear that chillingly consoles that bleeding heart
Destroying me
As she thrashes in the maze of bones and matter
Each hollow pathway of the marrow leading to a dead end
Or an ever-winding way downwards
They say each body of water leads straight to the sea
Where will the tear I abhor…lead me?
Most everything written
(and learned ya in school)
Yukon coon sitter, (and bet
your bottom dollar) tibia bunch
of contrived information
all details bu...bu...bull...low knee
within this poetic missive
after spending a lifetime crunch
ching numbers, the following
singularly just my hunch,
but despite minuscule
approximate i.e. kid size lunch
meal, (sans two clenched fists,
and weighing about 1.5 kilograms),
not much to munch,
yet if smacked in the kisser
by a pugilist visited
square in the jaw deadly (Judy hush
hiss) sucker punch
whereby the unlucky
recipient may see "unlucky stars"
after brows severely scrunched,
thee above poppycock, and potentially
"FAKE" though (Ripley deed lee)
believe able to ye,
nonetheless behooves me
to segue-way (by Segway) to pre
sent a "TRUE" revelation see
(gnome hatter, aye
cheese silly contradict
mice elf alias Stuart Little) prithee
please just accept what I write
with a grain of salt
(from the Sultan Sea),
cuz yawl do yarself grave
injury and lodge a gree
vance against this harmless
right ham handed cree
chore from the outer limits
of the twilight zone, thus
I STRONGLY ADVISE thee,
NOT to stake eh knee
un mensch chin hubble cogitation,
and figuratively swallow,
hook, conga line
and sinker thine highly suspect re
dunk yule us gobbledygook mee
cully (meekly) reed this
more so asthma
childish entertainment, hence oak key
jist put aside any urgent task
to revel as sigh bee
devil logical syntax
with sum man tricks
playfully wasting yar
precious time free
cully (freakily) inventing outlandish nee
incoherent yawping, towering,
and brutally butchering,
Brooklyn speak (homer over
mayor later mother), she
nearly always... er added
letters "er" at'er the ender
her sentences - er stain?
PRIME TIME
Time the essential factor of life, not to waste,
Yet at every step not to make haste.
Not to lose opportune moment but to remind,
unfulfilled wishes to leave behind
for not utilizing time which you cannot rewind
It is not so easy rather too tough
Time is ruthless acting rough.
On eternal journey Time proceeds,
With short span, human life rushes,recedes
reaching a status at last
with short future and long past.
Precious time is budding youth
to work along East-West, North-South
That is the scope to make progress
on effort to access success.
Youth flies faster leaving message
of limitations in old age.
Then, no new venture scatters rays
Just to ruminate bygone days.
To work back, Time will not permit.
At right time your paper to submit.
Precise Time is prime
to make Life sublime.
06/11/20
'Time' Contest by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Life's clock never ceases to tick at all,
God meanwhile is with you and me and walks with us all the way,
We don't know when our clock will stop and we'll hear His call,
So,let's enjoy life the best we can today and everyday
You should treasure each day, and all the time that you hold,that you got,
Appreciate Love and everything good you have now, you know,
Because tomorrow, who's to know,who's to say,you may have it not,
And all that you really own,it's only this precious time, here and now
We are surrounded by all these clocks anywhere and everywhere, I see,
We wear them, we carry them, we sleep and wake up with them, where we go,
We're slaved by time and by all of them,we keep them in buildings, in our homes, don't you see?
We buy them in silver,in gold,in every metal,style and name, we can't have enough of them I know,
They organize our life, some are pretty and some aren't,some are quiet and some are loud,some are new, and some are very old,
They give us time to plan ahead what we need to do everyday and 'time' is more precious than gold.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
November,05,2014
"Being alone with Spirit lifts souls with gifts of joy for hearts and light for eyes." Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whether I am embracing joy or buried in strife,
Your presence has been clear to me all of my life.
Through all years, I have sought to feel You even more
so truth continuously cements firmer within my core.
Your closeness - my awareness ~ I live zealously breathless
Whenever I need and seek precious time alone with You,
I close my eyes so all of the world leaves my view.
Focusing on a tiny white spot grows an ethereal light.
I see and feel vibrations pulsed exquisitely bright.
Your closeness - my awareness ~ I live zealously breathless
Within my chest palpitates a genuine, stupendous high
unlike any intoxication to be felt on earth's side of sky.
It is no longer air that I breathe, but Your glory I inhale.
You lovingly wrap me serene in glimpses of divine detail.
Your closeness - my awareness ~ I live zealously breathless
.
In the twilight of the year, the grains of sand are
falling down. But, if we turn the glass around
we will see the glory of new dawns.
Let's wait to hear the mellow
chord that pulses with new
rains. Not brood about
days since gone, we'll
never
see
again.
Just turn the
glass around once
more, to restore the
golden grain to fall. Each tiny
speck of brown will fall and slowly trickle down
Don't mourn that precious time that flows, for everybody
knows. What goes around will come around if we turn the glass around
___________________________________________________
"Funny how time seems to fly" contest: Sponsored by Brenda Chiri-Carroll
Linda
Linda Blair, is a woman with too much care
in her heart for so many, who seem to care not.
This forces me to wonder ?, what it is they have got
that entices her, lures her into their lair ?
What is it ?, Subconsciously, that is being sought,
by this woman named Linda Blair?
To me, it seems troubling and ought not
to be, for the price seems to high, the fare
to steep for the ride she is on- that should be forgot.
I look intently, I see deeply, then I stare
into the mournfully sad eyes of Linda Blair.
This mill stone, weighted soul, so fraught
with pain, aching heart, tears caught
by winds hanging high in the air
above this woman who cannot help but care.
This thoughtful woman named Linda Blair,
whose days have come and gone, will come and go
leaving me to wonder why ?, what for ?, what do I know ?
Do I know anything ?, in the end what will show ?,
me anything about why Linda Blair,
suffers the head aches, the heart aches, why she doth care.
Life is to precious !, time is too short !, to share
it with such negative forces, forces the cause despair
to my friend, troubled friend, Linda Blair,
who, no matter what the cost, has a needs to care.
Psychos have come and Psychos will surely will go.
This my friend, you have, surely come to know ?,
that this is part of what makes your world go round.
Linda, know !, to survive upon this psychological ground,
you must awake, you must take a firm stand
and realize that it is time to let go of the hands
of those negative forces that take you down.
Find your place, fill your space, ( positive ) make it sound !
Time has brought me to this understanding, and to an end,
and so, my troubled soul, know my dear Friend,
that in my efforts, I have truly striven
to leave you with more than I have ever given.
For you, a bitter pill ?
As always – Love Bill .
B. J. “A ” 2
March 27th 2002