Time. Poems - Poems about Time.

zenith hiku

For Sir Brian Strand's 1404 Poetry Contest 

15 August 2025 
                                            

Our Time to be Heroes

As the fires burn up our forests
and the deadly floods ravage our earth
All the traitors inside of the WH
give America new fascist birth

Our brothers and sisters patrol us
with the weapons of war that we made
As the songs they once sang about honor
about freedom and liberty, fade

They are building an army against us
search for people of

old tv box

old tv box
emerging from snow
with its rustic culture

A Silent Rune

Life’s canyon narrows
Its walls grow steep
Age walks slowly
A date to keep

Old shadows waver
On ancient winds
O’er paths that neither
Begin nor end

For here is here
And now is won
A future calls
A past is done

A greying moon’s
Soft light dims dreams
A sigh is heard
‘mid unseen streams

A twisting breeze
Hums an eerie tune
For time is not
A silent rune

Dead End

When do flowers no longer bloom
and the sea's stop touching the shore.

Light from the heaven's fail to shine
and the birds shall sing no more.

Innocent's of children no longer play
as time like a candle melts away.

Fleeting are the moments
we get to spend
and death is the reason
it all does end.

A spotted grey post

Aged, wetherbeaten.
Repainted.
Aged, wetherbeaten.
Six fence panels 
Next to a spotted grey post.
Right, right, wrong, right, wrong, wrong.
Split asunder, 
Now siblings, they stand.
Nailed shoulder to shoulder

once upon a time

What if I read to you a story Starting  

once upon a time 

And you realised that is was your 

Life spelt out on every Line. 

Would you hear my voice and Wonder as it  

Brushed across each word and pray my Arms have the strength to hold the truth About your world

That Pause between Summer and Autumn

Contest: Seasons now and after
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: 12.08.2025


Feel that pause between Summer and Autumn,
When the universe takes a relieved breath,
Before pulling the leaves to the bottom,
Where they fall to their silent crushing death;

Hear that sigh between Summer and Autumn,
Pregnant with the restless rustle of trees,
All good and ready for what God taught 'em,
Whispering soft the

Einstein

Once there was a young boy
who did not learn at the same pace
who did not race in the same
predictable race – while his peers
played with fish and ball – grew,
traditional degrees from short to tall,
his world turned at a different length
rate;  more different, were his
timeless seasons – artfully Time
he took in his hands, whittled
with

Pain in revolutions

Yesterday, today, tomorrow.
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12 O' clock,
24 hours,
365 days,
cocoon to butterfly,
7 days.
Over and over and over.
Again.
When you turn 5, you become a kid.
No more sippy cups or nap time. 
When you turn 13, you become a teen.
No more cartoons and dolls.
Adults say, "You're not a kid anymore, start acting like it".
When you turn 18, you become an

Now Is Forever

Stay in the
moment
Time but
a myth
Capture
the essence
Whose instant
encrypts

The truth
of the matter
The heart
of it all
Where feelings
explode
In prescience
— recalled

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

Irony nor spirit of time

Five sons well can live
In dad’s one-room, a palace, 
Scarce in five-room space
Can the five sons spare some place
For aged parents.
Why just blame the spirit of time,
Or even irony of time,
Blame thyself O man,
Think much as ye can,
Product you are of Purbee breeze.
_________________ 
Free verse | 16.08.2025 | father son, time, irony

Take my hand

Yesterday you lied
Yesterday you cried
Yesterday you wish you died

Today you sit
Today you quit
Today you have no wit

Tomorrow you keep
Tomorrow you weep
Tomorrow you may even leap

Take my hand

I insist
Don’t resist
Let’s persist

Together we’ll band
Together we’ll stand
Together we’ll never land

Everday

Tomorrow will be today
And today will be yesterday
After all today was once tomorrow
So here’s a little cheer to borrow

Today is today
Yesterday was yesterday
Let tomorrow be on the morrow
Then you’ll have a little less sorrow

HANDS OF TIME

As I close the last window and draw the blinds shut;
 The mountains once viewed and cool crisp air no longer a must.
                As I dim the lights and close my eyes to rest
      

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