Short Metronomic Poems

Upon the wall
It hangs
counting
metronomic moments
lost
to time


John G. Lawless
©9/24/2022...

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above the metronomic constant dripping of a tap

and the deep and heavy ticking of an old grandfather clock

sounds seeped through a window where the night air found a gap:

a cough!

 - then silence. 

..then a key inside a lock....

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Enter the emerald tunnel at dawn
Before a sultry blanket of tell-uric air descends,
Follow the metronomic drip
On which the symphonic faunal orchestra depends

World Heritage renowned
Immersing in uniquely tantalizing scenery
Diminishing beyond repair
Emerge then from entangled greenery

Beside a crystal cascade
Rest a while, meditate
Plunge into the icy pool
Let nature's beauty rejuvenate....

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There Is A Darkness

there is a darkness
stalks us all

denials damsel
in distress
				
seeking refuge
 in feigned faith

blanketed
in folds
of fate.

There is a darkness
seeking light
within the crease
of creeping night

devoid
of metronomic pace
subsisting on
discarded grace.

There is a darkness
humankind
looming over
peace

nothing
	  learned

nothing
	    to teach


John G. Lawless
©2/4/2018...

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When listening to her heart beat
I can hear the metronomic  murmurs of string
and wind instruments blending
into a susurrous symphony
(expunging note upon note through my soul)
that goes from quiver to calm while pressed
against rhythms of her undulating breasts 

the chorus harmonizes in whispered
reverberations “I love you” wrapping
each softly plucked chord around
my name that is parenthesized
in soothingly shaded tones of  “mine”...

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As Autumn idles
A laziness caresses the moon
Resting on a soft cloud bed
Her shadow taunting the night
In a nocturnal game of hide and seek
A soft aroma rises
From freshly trodden leaf beds
A chatter of empty branches
Counts a metronomic rhythm
A feathered dance troupe performs
Taking a final bow
Beckoned by a distant sun
Urged on by a chill wind
Take flight my children
Heed well the scents of nature
Follow the wisdom of your soul
...

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As Autumn idles
A laziness caresses the moon
Resting on a soft cloud bed
Her shadow taunting the night
In a nocturnal game of hide and seek
A soft aroma rises
From freshly trodden leaf beds
A chatter of empty branches
Counts a metronomic rhythm
A feathered dance troupe performs
Taking a final bow
Beckoned by a distant sun
Urged on by a chill wind
Take flight my children
Heed well the scents of nature
Follow the wisdom of your soul
...

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Beware of Time
She won't love what came before

Time loves but Itself
A true Narcissist
She won't turn her head for you
Although outstretched
Her arms won't point out the next bend
Arrow hands never to embrace
Methodically she schemes
In metronomic steps
Only up towards Babel
To reach the Gods who Thunder
To become One Herself
Time won't wait for you
Time cares not for you
To the end of Itself
Time wants to be revered

Don't make time for Time
She won't reminisce 
...

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