Category Archives: time

throw out

mercury rising
fever declining
making another revolution
around the world
tea cup ride overdrive
surrender to the currents
lifting out of shoes
oh fates be my guide
lockpick this heart
held captive
to the present
for a storm’s a brewin’
cast me a clue
throw out
all rules

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Stop Begin

I’m sorry
I’ll just stop fucking around
I’ll hurry up and find a wife
they’ve got their time tables
and we craft fables
until rigor mortis sets in
until we cease to begin
the neighbours called the cops
those angelic headlights zone in
so catapult every catastrophe
and starve out your apathy
until this paint chips off
and the stars become supernovas
encroach on the cradle
build your tower of babel
and let it tumble
at the rumbling
of chariots
swallow a sun
we’ve just begun

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What weather worn traveler

went where?

all our great inventions, and honorable intentions

sheltered and shattered

nothing left to bear

what mind erases

and hibernates with pain

you are the song I sing

on Sunday morning

the breath on the coattails of wind

coalescing in a bedtime story

in a dim lit room, glow-in the dark stars

I find you shining wisp

calling in the dark

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My Now

you had me
had my “now.”
no more “waits”
weighing us down
you had my wave lengths
though that sounds stupid
face to face
laughter’s highly combustible
irresistible contagion
borrowing youth
Berlin walls fallen
we can come out crawling
sentenced to paradise
I’d spend every blinking moment
if I had you

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Time for Everything

that strange passage of time
with both rythm and rhyme
I tried grasping for it
but I had to let it go
With every period
begins another sentence
every sunset
promises a sunrise
erosion and rust
tectonic plates rubbing
drifting apart further
this land sprouting
vines and moss flourishing
until the wood rots
and decomposes
and it all becomes superfluous
breaking all apart
but matter can never be
but is only the transferring
of energy
to live
we must take life

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and so in time swept
a wind flooding
sweeping, inundating
with a clarion call
and a peal
it packed away former friends in boxes
it folded away lovers
devouring hours
and wilted procession flowers
it rouse like children tugging on battered ankles
it was that wetstone that we sharpen ourselves to
The more I grow up
The more I fill these molds
and deepen into this person

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