Tick Tock

Time

Yesterday never said I'd be here today
So I have no faith in tomorrow

I know how one day can rise and deflate
end in a bang and sound like sorrow

Best to turn off the memories
Close the hindsight eye and just be

Absorb the intermission
between the next day and this one


Even the next hour could make all the difference
in my tomorrow


Dreams are fast runners when you chase them
yet, they loiter if you somehow negate them

Even seconds can feel like ages
and clock's tick louder on bad days

Hold-fast and try to be steady
It'll get you even if you aren't ready

--double entry--

Time Travel

http://people.rit.edu/aca2087/wf/media/TTpic1.jpg


Tonight's the time
to take thy thoughts
to terrestrial tours
Travel through time
transcending tranquil trance

Across the Atlantic aboard an airplane
ascending at an amazing altitude
Amidst an aura of animosity
and aristocratic arrogance
altruistic acts abound

Torrential temptations
thrust through tepid torso
temperatures taken to the threshold
transient torrid tryst
transgressed thyself to the top

Mystical myths of meditations
mutually mastered in mirage
may misfire to misery
Misconceived mirth
magnifies misdemeanors

Alone again as awakened with
asphyxiated aspirations
and asinine attitudes
Apparent apparitions of
an array of auroras
actually appeared...

These times will never come again,
and yet they were not spent in vain.
I kissed you on your lips and cried
for you were old and then you died.

You made me cookies, made my day.
We used to sing and run and play,
We read together when I couldn't read,
I came to your bed, when I couldn't sleep.

You could always tell when I was lying.
When I hurt my knees and came to you crying,
you blew on my hurt and said a chant.
And then you took me in your arm.

Those memories and even more,
are what I'll always be grateful for.
I never told you what's written here,
but you know, I'll keep you forever dear.

Recycle

today is the first
I'll start from here
here, where nothing appears

yesterday was the third
when obligation crashed
and disposition screamed

tomorrow will be the second
if inhibitions boom
and expectations rise

---------------------------
today I wasted a day
I drank and thought
kissed and fought
slept a lot
the sun was wrought
the color of grey

yesterday was when I died
my contention deserved glee
sadly, mistakes flourish in vanity
what did come, rhymed with misery
a folded smile you'd never see
preposterously snide

tomorrow I'll live
to once again fill
what failed and might still
shatter and spill
fucking obstinate will
with nothing more to give
---------------------------

that's why we recycle
minutes for days
seconds for hours
sorrows for life

“Sixty Seconds is All You Have”

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/99423.jpg
In this exact minute,
sixty seconds,
hold onto eternity.
For in
the greater scheme,
the one not seen
outside
these four walls,
it’s all you have,
so very fleeting.

Time

Time is a valuable thing  
But come see it through  
An insane person's brain.
 
 
First minute in the mental institution
"Come Crimsin take your meds"
"It's your only solution".
 
 
"No I say"
With much resolve
Then no cig. for you move it along.
 
 
"Wait I cry, i'll take your pill"
Anxiety growing  
Only a cig. will still.
 
 
Checked onto the ward an hour later
Looking to the clock
Not believing I have to stay here.
 
 
They bring me to the wall
Introduce me to time
We are the wards of the clock.
 
 
If you ever want
To see light again
Step in line.
 
 
Stomach grumbling, I look to the clock
He mocks me with his tic tocking
Lunch isn't until 1 o'clock.
 
 
Searching for a person of interest
To pass the time with but to no avail
Each trapped in their own time hell.
 
 
Hooray it's cig. time again
I get to go outside
Time is finally back on my side.
 
 
Time is up, inside we go
Click goes the metal
Back behind a locked door.
 
 
Only three more hours until dinner
Nighttime is almost here
Please time don't slow down or stop while i'm here.
 
 
Anxiety growing, I make a dash for the door
Crimsin it's time you meet our box
Come take a tour.
 
 
Time stops here and leaves me adrift
For the rest of the world I no longer exist
Locked in the Marie Greenery as part of the scenery.
 
 
I've learned my lesson
The door swings open
Time has taken me back into it's bossom.

Mind the Gap

How do we fill in the gap between being born and dying?
With sleeping and talking and thinking and walking and shopping  and driving and flying;
With meeting friends, making amends, trying to put things right,
Wishing we'd done things differently in the middle of the night.
Some of us kill, some of us swill, some of us cheat on our wives,
Some of us nurture our children, some of us ruin their lives.
Some fill the gap with boredom, lumbering from bed to settee,
Wasting life's precious allotment gorging on daytime TV;
Others are obsessively active, never a moment to spare -
Running committees and holding collections and badgering those who don't care.
Some of us squander, some of us ponder, most of us bumble along,
Going to work, paying the bills, hoping it won't all go wrong.

And what did it bring us, we wonder, as decline turns into fall:
Surprise, awareness, knowledge, fun, and love, oh yes, love, most of all.

Time

Perhaps before I die
time shall bend its will
to the answers which elude me
beyond life's passing thrill

The fragrance of a rose
the cooing of a dove
wild passions of the heart
once overcome with love

With the breaking of a dawn
rests the making of a man
to understand life's purpose
its pattern and its plan

Embittered by our years
only measured by our deeds
forsaking all possessions
time surrenders to death's needs

The Quality of Tock

The sea is rushing round me
as I perch upon this rock
fair mermaids may astound me
with the key to Neptune's lock

Yet even more enthralling
than these mysteries I behold
the quality of Tock
a marvel that unfolds

The quality of Tock
The quality of Tock
Its sound beats in my heart
until my soul is but a clock

Bold Tick is just a second
fleeting gone before we know
it pilfers minutes swiftly
'tis but a seed time sows

But the quality of Tock,
such gilded oboe tones
bringing comfort to the aged
who rest their weary bones

Brave Tock shall linger longer
when we ready for its shock
so let bracing bells ring out
for the quality of Tock

The quality of Tock
The quality of Tock
its sound dwells in our hearts
until our souls are but a clock

Dust Invisible

Even the most well read young men    
may not tell you quite how to discern    
between the desires of the heart    
and the headier requirements    
of the soul    
   
Their world remains    
an open mine of possibilities    
so why pay heed to the scream of a jay    
or search for its blue wing-bars    
flashing early    
high in the oaks    
   
Surely no young blood    
would ever wish    
to stop and wonder    
over such badge of treachery    
when the betrayal of age    
settles dust unseen    
its film invisible    
a lifetime away    
   
Even educated young women    
once raised with servants    
fish knives and doilies    
might imbibe of modernity    
until it radically dilutes their manners    
but they seldom forget    
how to spell 'children'    
or lose that word on their tongue's tip    
They do not notice    
not yet    
the click of a crumbling vertebrae    
   
Young time    
is easily ladled    
from a bottomless crock    
it blushes    
good humoured endearment    
at a father's odd socks    
shooing away his despairing hunt    
for misplaced keys    
always eager to concoct    
some newer fresher thrill    
as yet unshaken    
by the wasteful roulette of genes    
   
My child time never listened    
to the tap of a blind man's stick    
nor understood the true meaning    
of a gate left open    
when none were ever closed    
although now at least    
hiking spirits    
becomes a simple trick    

It takes only the kindness    
of a lone black cat    
straying warm across my path    
to purr innocence at the lost    
or maybe just even the thought    
of one more breathless    
impromptu kiss

Come rain, come shine

Shuddering, I breathe in
tasting the midnight air.
Clearing my mind
the air, refreshing within.
Head bowed, hands in pockets.
The rain pressing down on me
why am I here..
in the cold and wet.

When I could be..
home again.
The air I exhale
appears before me
and settles on my left cheek.
Leaving a pleasent tingle
the longer I remain
the black of the darkness deepens
and the rain pressing down even more.

Turning my back to
the desolate train station.
I feel the time slipping away
like the rain drops on my cheek
merged within a tear.
It drops to the concrete
lost within the storm and sent to the seas.
Never to return again.

NUMBERS

We met inside the hourglass,
one of many grains of sand.

Were we formed from the same stone?
Now time is what,we call our home.

She shivers here inside my hold,
and asks I never let her go.

Though gravity will always win,
and pull you from my arms again.

Even if I lived a millenium ,

I'd lose you every century.

These numbers can't reach high enough.

Time won't let you stay with me...