So many faces which ones are true
Each one becoming a part of you
Drawing proverbial lines in the sand
Yet each time I cross them I wonder just who I am?
The faces start to vary as you seem to slide down
When you're on your way down seems that no one's around
Voices of reason just vanish in the air
But it isn't because nobody cared.
The faces become solemn with the pain of the past
Wondering this time how long it will last
Faces become scary as you're starting to fall
Then become transparent, so you can see it all.
The faces we wear become what people believe
As one by one they're broken brought to their knees
When there are so many faces you lose who you are
Then the flame just goes out on that shooting star.
So many faces that they all melt together
Time just stands still it seems like forever
Life become a play the world is the stage
So many faces locked inside this cage.
It is then, that time does mock,
in fractured, punctuated dreams.
Alongside the tick of the clock.
Elusive, as sea serpents in a Loch,
your reflection, not always as it seems.
It is then that time does mock.
"Come, count the years, take stock.
life, expired tickets, you can't redeem,
alongside the tick of the clock."
And there, it comes as quite a shock.
You find yourself adrift, out of steam.
It is then that time does mock.
"You strutted away like a Peacock,
who's plumage means nothing in Death's theme,
alongside the tick of the clock."
Against youth's door, you stand and knock.
But, it is too late and you scream.
It is then, that time does mock,
alongside the tick of the clock.
For the contest, Villanelle Me
Sponsored by Catie Lindsey
Placement: 1st
'Consolation Philosophy'
And with it
The prophecy
Your fate
Is your making
In a time
Of autocracy
Boethius the wise
One who answered
All questions
A time when He spoke
But barely took actions
Does God control me
Or merely observe
Am I of myself
Or am I to serve
What making of man
Provide good and evil
Will time yield the answer
Or be it medieval
I can't see the light
But can we see now
The thinker in jail
Did all to show how
A torch that he passed
In thought ever-lit
We must pass it down
To all benefit
Time swiftly passes by,
There are no seconds to spare,
As there is no time left,
Let us make the best of it here.
Time comes and time goes,
Time blows out the window,
It moves to fast, slow down and realize,
Realize it cannot be closed.
Time will never stop,
But as time flows,
We shall stick together,
And together suffer these blows.
Never ending thoughts of endless matters
Just seem to vacate my heavy brain
One keeps coming that what if time shatters
Among ourselves and within our veins
What if I stand and yell GO BACK
Go back for the love of god if you may!
A decade of time is all I lack
To be another one with no mistakes
But no you wont for you never do
Leaving me here to suffer and weep
Why have I and why not?! .. starring at you
With eyes full of blood .. for they never sleep
I wish I did that and I wish I didn’t
But you don’t care oh great TIME you are
You never stop.. I bet you couldn’t!
Just a bigger puppet how miserable you are
That’s just my thought .. the one of many
Crazy or insane I may be perhaps
But just look back and watch how many
Have gone simply mad over such facts
side glances mock
the youth,
their moments
of relenting-
sinuously fulfilling,
as if the time
was their own,
and not perpetual.
ideas making cycles-
actions and reactions,
captured by neurons,
and called original.
concisely,
unable to grasp
The Laws of Wisdom,
only time can teach-
imperative,
the elder thinks,
as arthritic bones savor the sun,
skin blisters raw, and pains to touch.
The relay revolves each day,
each generation has its say,
courage,with wisdom decides
to step aside as its guide;
Kin to kin,father to son,
revolution continues on,
a baton from hand to hand,
constant flows,the timer's sand;
A time o relax,sit back
other navigate the tack,
with time to enjoy,reflect,
nothing ever is perfect.
Continuity lives within
Each creative act we begin.
Measuring our time each year,
ever-present background fear.
longing for the end to come,
attaching meaning to the sum.
nearer to us our fate draws,
creeping time to natures laws.
how we search for end of time,
older, older, it's sublime.
lingering in youth of old,
years are passing, time unfolds
Dusk in the city, I walk.
This evening:
I resolve to, remember faces I see.
I resolve to, eavesdrop on conversations.
I resolve to, record how I navigate the streets.
I still have time to:
enjoy being me,
enjoy pretty faces,
enjoy wondering who others might be.
I consider counting, all people I meet,
but the notion is silly,
takes too much time,
I would not be free.
Free time to:
remember the future I see,
Free time to:
consider the spiral galaxy in my coffee,
Free time to:
absorb the streets melody.
I have time to reflect:
what tomorrow will be,
what happened last week,
what it’s like not being free.
All my life I’ve had plenty of time,
to:
put off,
spend,
kill,
waste,
loiter,
do!
As you ponder each turn that has landed you here,
taut tempo will quicken and frail futures loom near.
Take one somber moment, step away from the din:
The voyage, the detours, the past and what's been.
You look back behind you to retrace every mile.
It bring tears of regret and the trace of a smile.
Hang on first, then let go, due to whimsy or age.
What you keep in the end is the test of a sage.
Fools still ignore the supreme ticks of the clock,
in each change in fashion, embraced by the flock.
Walk on and ignore them, don't bother to chide,
these pathetic lemmings swept away by the tide.
Peer off in the distance as you fight off the chill.
You must climb still further to the top of the hill.
Play the tailor to time, cut and trim, make it fit.
Find the time in your life. Take time to enjoy it.
Life At Its Best
My friend, do not ask what evil deeds your enemy aspires.
Or worry whether friend of foe will with battle fights, acquire.
Take no thought of rudeness, which upon thee did transpire.
Or ponder ways in which revenge could low blows send most hatefully.
Bereave not with fear that tomorrow your good fortune shall subside.
Or fantasize love lost again abiding near your side.
For time thus spent imagining will surely rob life of its best.
Its wiser, friend, to spend yourself on time that is at hand,
And seize the day for all it is worth with goodness and with zest.
Poetic form: Carpe Diem
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
11-14-09
Time is just a number that is part of fate
Time is a number that too few people value
And it will continue to disentegrate
I will never forget that one day when i was so close yet so far away
The sound of a ring lead me to words that i never wanted to hear
Lies entered my ears and i fought back tears
With my mouth wide open with nothing to say
Time was my enemy, I had never felt so betrayed
And when i returned home, and lies became truth
I was a minute too short and time had ended the heartbeat of one of it's youth
Time is just a number that simply burns away
As days continue to pass, I will carry this burden to my grave
For being a minute too short on that one tragic day
When time ended so quickly as skies turned to grey
Time is just a number that we cannot waste
I love to spend with you,
Whatever the weather: rain, sleet, snow, or sunshine, too.
Whether we're alone, in a crowd, or with family
Spending time with you makes me believe,
That we are meant to be.
Wherever we are and whatever we do.
I always enjoy spending time with you.
Whether it's watching T.V. or viewing the outdoor's hue:
The grassy greens and the sky and flowery blues.
Oh I love to love, spending time with you.
Wrote Spring 2004
while student @ University of Louisiana-Monroe
Somewhere down the line
Eventually in time
The black sun shines
Its brightest darkness
On all of existence
Every soul is put to test
So be at your best
Or end up like the rest
Never try to second-guess
The nature of what it is
Ignorance is bliss
So don’t go there with this
Journey forward
Man with a mission
Going toward
Something he was missing
Or perhaps left behind?
Was a soul spared or declined?
Fearing the worst; assuming nothing
Halting the pursuit upon retrieving something
It is now the time of reckoning
See the signs – hear them beckoning
“It’s time for you to recognize
Our sinful deeds
Throughout our troubled lives”
The price we pay for the exchange
Is not worth the cost for all that is lost
-Boz-
Today, all day, my Irish leprechaun
We get our chance to catch you if we can.
You hold the secrets of hidden treasures.
This time we will use successful measures.
For most, we’ll sit in pubs all day and hunt
for you in greenish stout from favorite haunts
Along the way. What fools we mortals be
That think at rainbows end we’ll find the key
To gold and sundry riches in a pot.
Hah! All that’s found are fractured dreams and sots.
From time immemorial fools have tried
In vain to follow dreams of gold worldwide.
Thus, chasing dreams and dodgy rainbows
Makes one lose sight of what’s under your nose.
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