The river is deep.
The river is wide.
I burned every bridge.
I’m stuck on this side.
I stand on the shore.
I’m looking across
At all that I’ve left
And all those I lost.
The river’s too fast
To wade or to swim.
And night’s coming on,
The light’s getting dim.
Cannot find a boat
To row or to sail.
I’m stuck where I am,
A self-imposed jail.
I’ve lost track of time…
How long I’ve been here.
Has it been but days
Or how many years?
Each moment’s the same,
On endless repeat.
I cannot move on.
I cannot retreat.
The river cares not,
Just endlessly flows.
Its start and its end?
Well, nobody knows.
So, here I just sit,
Impatiently wait,
And wish I had known
But, now it’s too late.
With each stroke of the hand across the clock face
Bids a wave to time as it passes by fast
That's why days run into nights
But the darkness hasn't faded even a little
I sat here waiting for it to strike five
Till the clock struck six,
And I'm yet to make up my mind to get up
Cause I'm still in awe at how time past
Just now it was morning
And I was in my bed gazing at the ceiling
Now it's already evening
I'll be back home to stare at the same ceiling
I'm sure if I pick up piece by piece
Of the time I'll barely piece my day
Cause I lost track of time after having tea
For I stared too long at my reflection and it got me thinking
For it's already two decades gone now
It's just the other day I was rolling in mud
While now I'm molding that future I was playing with
I just hope that this time I'll have the time to do it all
With each brush of the hand over the clock face
I wipe my face off to look at how times passing
Cause if I sleep in this next phase
I'll blame time while all it did was to come and go as it should
The PO£T
Charles Bukowski
I read a fine essay written by a friend of mine, Bukowski
I thought he was a great poet and writer, whether the high
table of the educated literate think, or not because from
where he wrote, the side streets of life, unfamiliar to them.
Many famous writers/poets drink; I think this is because they
have finished writing for the day, they feel empty inside
alcohol salivate the sense of tristesse, meeting friends for
drinks as whisky and conversation flows
Ernest Hemingway was a heavy drinker, which is overlooked
by his admirers, he had been to Paris, the middle-class son
of a doctor; his drinking had charm, the fishing and shooting
When I read Bukowski’s novel the “post office” I remember
opening the book, a rainy afternoon, absorbed by his art
I lost track of time; I followed his journey doing menial tasks
The boredom of having to make a living when all he wanted
to do was to write against the odds; he did write and gave
us, the beauty of his soul.
You forget who you are
Amidst the chaos of this journey
You ignore your true purpose
Trying to chase your problems
You lose your identity
As you suck into the society's labels
Before you even realise
You're engulfed by the worries of this world
You've lost track of time chasing hard cash
You're a reflection of what you wished not to be
Many years ago when you'd judge your formers
Who am I? What have I become?
You ask yourself
Unable to recognize the person you see
Little did you notice
While you were trying to make amends in others
You lost a part of you to them
Until there was nothing left of you
That truly belonged to you
Now you're just like others
An automaton, a label, a status, a cash cow
I feel tired and lost
I can not find my way.
I have lost track of time,
And the date and day.
Even the simplest chores,
Are hard to complete,
My poor back is aching,
And so are both my feet.
My eyes are dim,
It's a strain to see,
Anything,
In front of me.
I have a cough,
I can not breathe,
I've had enough,
I'm on my knees.
I want to get up,
So I can sit down,
Instead of a smile,
I wear a frown.
I cannot hear,
Unless you shout,
All my teeth,
Have fallen out.
My arthritis
Causes pain,
My life is going
Down the drain.
My bladder and bowel,
Are all at sea,
Incontinence,
It's misery.
With stomach swollen
Full with gas.
I am a very,
Sickly Lass.
Lass maybe years ago,
This face and figure,
I do not,
Know.
My youth has left.
Closed the door,
I've never felt this,
Old before.
I started to write
A happy song,
Somehow my write
Is wrong,
If by chance
You take a peek
I want you to know
That I wrote it,
Tongue in cheek.
I lost track of time
Trying to forget while living
I always wonder what could’ve been
But I know I’ll never get an answer
My brain has been empty for so long now
I can’t write any longer
I want to get back how easy it was
But I can’t seem to find any inspiration
Even in the sad days when I usually have a head on
Time went by so fast
Yet it feels like it’s still yesterday
I don’t know how I am anymore
I can’t even answer their “how are you’s”
Waking up at 2am just to stare blankly at the ceiling
Feeling completely shallow
It’s become a normal thing
But I know that it shouldn’t
Perhaps this will still go a long way for years to come
I’m defenceless with the things that can’t be undone
As it continues to swallow my colour
I’m working on with what’s left inside
Barely breathing
I’ll just wait until I get back with having a grip of my life
Never seen a fence I didnt want to climb..
walking around all hungry without even a dime.
nothing to big or too small,
to short or too tall, I new i could climb..
seems like when it came to that white picket fence..
I lost track of time..
how it got its fame????
but i see how it got its name..
On the other side, they said we are to blame..
The greeters in white sheets, and came with their treats...
With bombs in their hands, we were praying at their feet..
never seen that side, of the white picket fence but if i do , i would expect they would want the same hospitality????
30 January 2021
The prodigy has turned prodigal
Making silver spoons out of gold medals
While the hearsay deepens about clandestine meetings
I fix myself a plate of pity party, for I know nobody
I don’t even know myself
The prodigy is now pedestrian
Crossing roads without a care
And I lost track of time ages ago
In blue screens and daydreams
So I fix myself a plate of pity party, for there’s nothing else to do
Especially now that the world is broken
And I can’t find the version of myself I lost in the chaos of trying to find myself
It’s 10:30 on a Wednesday night and I am sitting on my floor.
Been staring at a blank space on the wall and I’ve lost track of time.
I take a second to question what I’m doing, but not a moment more.
A wave of recklessness rushes over me- considering crime.
You see, I’ve been in a funk for so long now, I can hardly call this a rarity.
If this is the new me, I won’t last very long.
I know that I am senseless, yet I no longer wonder the severity.
I am not phased by the things that go wrong.
I sit here reflecting while my mind is absolutely blank.
After a long period of grief, you learn to numb yourself.
All the vibrant thoughts you once had are now cold and dank.
Whatever it is that I need has been stored out of my reach, high on a shelf.
Everything I once had slipped through my fingers.
If you relax for even just one moment, every little thing can vanish.
The next thing you know, you will be stuck with a memory that lingers.
I never thought I’d be the one with flashbacks I cannot banish.
Sweet and Sour
Vinegar and salt
How unkind were our words
So blind , so in twine
We both lost track of time
I am so tired of these bitter rhymes
Why are we making our pass a lifelong crime
I haven't got any more time
Don't want to see anymore unhappy rhymes
Jesus our Lord wants me to save my time
Praising and glorifying the Lord divine.
I cry myself to sleep at night
Unfortunately, not everything is black and white
Oh, how my soul aches from the cold
Oh, your wings of flight are so bold
I wake up for the millionth time...
Wrapped up in your blankets of benevolence
Wrapped up in your lullabies of evanescence
I relax in your blanket of...
Benevolence that I've been dreaming of...
I've dreamt a dream of my long lost love
It was many years ago...now, I'm a lonely glove
I've been trekking down Sorrow Town
I tread in dread upon the Earth with a frown
And you got me caught up in the strife,
Giving me hell in this corrupted life
But, there's goodness and hope beneath the rubble
I lost track of time, so let's get warm and cuddle
Away from harm's way...
Away from harm's way...
Come here and stay...
Don't stray away...or get led astray...
I will move you with my sway...
And keep you nice and cozy
In the blankets of benevolence...
You are engulfed in my remembrance...
Forevermore,
The one that I adore
Fumbling for a pen in the dark of night
Few lines of poetry I had to write
Fearing they vanish with approaching light
To wake one at night the muse has a right?
Rice turned charcoal and soup dry
While I ran upstairs to add a new rhyme
Long distance was left on the phone to cry
With muse on the line I lost track of time
Too many discussions end in fights
Too many questions answered with what?
My mind takes off on poetry flights
This time the muse I'll kick in the butt
Offended or not don’t come after nine
The poet will go to rest after we dine.
In today's world where a locked door is never far away,
And nothing ever seems to be quite secure enough,
We need to be prepared for when we are locked out, locked in
Or locked up.
Locked out because we upset our spouse,
Or lost our keys and had neglected to pay the cost of a second hand car for a
Spare set.
Or we forgot to renew our online subscription,
Or were rude on facebook.
Or decided to become a vertual pirate.
Locked in because we did not read the terms of the contract,
Or because we lost track of time when working late,
Or because we live in a dangerous neighbourhood,
Or because the lift stopped working and we don't do stairs,
Locked up because we came up before the wrong judge,
Or did not pack our own luggage,
Or we took a selfie in a restricted area,
Or we forgot we were in Rome.
If we have even the slightest tendency for bad luck.
We could be locked out, locked in and locked up all at the same time.
If we are not prepared for all of today's locking situations.
I looked out the window as the night fell.
The shadows of buildings reflected on the ground,
Reminded me of the place I lived— a true, concrete forest.
It left me craving for fresh air, so I sat on the balcony,
Overseeing the city lights.
Seeing those shining little windows in the distance made me think of life,
And I lost track of time.
When I realized the skies had turned starless;
I could no longer see the shadows.
The wind, blowing between the buildings,
Sounded like the angels were singing for all that were awaken,
In that stormy summer night.
A loud rumble made me feel uneasy.
I wondered what was going on, but soon the droplets of water started to fall from the sky giving me the answer I was looking for.
The thunder, roaring as fierce as it could and the lightning, lighting up the sky every couple of seconds.
There was something about the force of this storm.
I got reminded of the hope and strength I have inside myself to make new beginnings,
Even when the previous day had destroyed all of my new possibilities.
The rain came unexpectedly and showered my soul.
It renewed my strength,
It game me hope.
-PF
Drifting Thoughts
Today I fed a duck.
He dined alone,
gluten free diet,
no bread for him.
Watched a squirrel
bury an acorn
only to have it stolen
by a stalker from
another tree.
At the pond
the Osprey
caught more fish than I did.
Offered my SPF 50 lotion
to the sunbathing turtles.
Laughed out loud
alone, kayak drifting,
on the whims of
rippling winds.
Got stuck in traffic
amid the impatient honking
of the Geese.
Quietly applauded
the artistic posing
of the Swans.
Played the shape game
with passing clouds.
Lost track of time
and time
lost track of me.
John G. Lawless
8/8/2016
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