Filed under: writings | Tags: absence, born, borrowed, clock, death, hope, minutes, poem, poetry, rebirth, three, time, writing, writings
Borrowed minutes from a ticking clock.
Tickin Tickin Tickin along.
The three precious minutes,
Stolen away.
A glimmer of hope,
On a hill of anxiety.
We wait.
Till the fire burns out,
And the ashes remain.
Rebirth.
Sweet nothings in the summer breeze.
Demise.
Paraphrasing in the autumn rain.
Sing the blues to the midnight sun.
Wait for the coyote’s reply.
Should remember to repay my debts one day.
To the three borrowed minutes of happiness.
The three moments of bliss.
Wash away.
Wash away.
Filed under: writings | Tags: foreword, pensive, poem, poetry, the foreword, thoughts, writing, writings
Swim through the mind of a dying man.
To a place of split second decisions,
And a third person point of view.
Find the meaning of being misunderstood.
The truth about lying to myself.
Feel yourself fall asleep a little.
Drift off into the somber silence.
A place to harbor the ridiculous thoughts.
Maybe we’d see things clearing again.
Or maybe never.
Maybe there was only one stop on this route.
And our chances of departure is sliming.
The days of the sun is setting.
And pensive thoughts of flicking forwards.
The foreword to an illustrative illusion.
Filling up the holes of an empty consciousness.
Perhaps things are never as they seem.
A perfect circle in midst of your imaginings.
But that was expected.
Suppose we wait till the next full moon.
To catch a whisper on the winds.
The summary of our whole existence.
Make up the foreword for you and me.
Filed under: writings | Tags: Appraisal, day, death, growing, life, mid, Mid-day, old, pains, philosophy, poem, poetry, simple, writing, young, youth
Watch the ticking clock.
Are you really watching?
Cause it always takes a ticking clock,
To remind you you’re alive.
The bruises on your knees,
To tell you that you feel,
Or felt.
A dying rattle to tell you you’ve lived.
A life so full.
A life in need.
In my memory,
There you stood.
In my memory,
We looked swell.
And in my imaginings,
We ran away long ago.
Jester shoes and tents in tow.
To the place of the mid-day sun.
Wait for it to shine on a broken seed,
Growing the regrets of a crumbled deed.
Soon you’ll be sleeping early.
Soon you’ll be resting your aching head.
Soon you’ll be wanting the best of everything.
Soon you’ll think you’re truly happy.
But by then I’ll be gone.
Retreated to the imaginings.
Writing a mid-day appraisal.
Watching the clock tick down.
Filed under: writings | Tags: a, for, friend, people, poem, slash, song, writing
It takes a day in a life to never meet you.
A toss in your sleep to forget you.
A dream to finally lose you.
The key in a song to betray you.
As the flames burn out in your eyes.
I finally realise.
I hardly know you.
Hardly know you anymore.
It takes a trip and a fall to miss you.
A sleepless night to understand you.
An unanswered message to finally reach you.
To learn of your new life,
Or how he’s finally left you,
Or was that something in return?
Anyway, it doesn’t really matter.
I’ve fallen down the steps of my piano cage.
And it takes the silent solitude,
To finally see you.
To finally realise,
I’m not sure I need you.
Filed under: writings | Tags: 2, for, II, part, poem, poetry, sequal, thank, two, writing, you
Well I stumbled in sideways,
And over and out.
Don’t really know what you’d say,
Or what it’s all about.
All I really know is,
I thank you for writing.
I’ll change the fear,
The mood, the season,
my love, the start,
or all my reasons.
The choice is yours,
So let there be no second chances.
Thank you for writing.
Thanks a million.
Filed under: writings | Tags: 1, for, I, one, part, poem, poetry, sequal, thank, writing, writings, you
Scratches on a detailed wall.
Like motions in the wind.
There is a happy person,
But the world spins on.
Thank you for sharing,
Your remind me what it means to be alive.
Your hard felt inklings.
The stains of life.
Thanks for returning me,
Right back to square one.
Back to where we started.
Nowhere at all.
Thank You for writing.
Filed under: writings | Tags: away, child, circus, fantasy, hidden, hide, poem, poetry, run, running, the, writing
Hide the candles,
Hide the torch.
Close the curtains.
Close the door.
For fear they may find me,
For fear they’re looking.
If they ever come knocking,
I’ll leave a note on the table,
A sign on the door.
“I’ve gone and joined the circus.”
The circus life’s for me.
I’ll perform my special tricks;
Hiding behind an empty shell.
They’ll all cheer and jeer,
Every night I disappear.
How wonderful.
How swell.
I’ll travel the world.
Just to play my part.
They’ll forget for a minute,
What I’ve become,
What I’m becoming.
For a second, we’ll be equals.
Friends under the big top.
I’ve joined the circus,
Where smiles are guaranteed,
And happiness never fades.
How serious.
How Marvelous.
I do belong, here, in the circus.
Filed under: writings | Tags: complex, fantasy, growing, growth, over, pains, pan, peter, poem, poetry, purelity, sailing, the, tie, writing
Blue skies are mocking.
As you and I go sailing,
Down an ocean path,
Watch you drift apart,
Off into the distance.
Arms raised signaling,
Wanting your return.
I can hear you drowning,
In midst of all this growing.
The growing thunderous noises.
I try not to look,
Not to start the fire,
Or wait to see the smoke.
An old man waits on the riverbank,
Stands with arms wide open.
A toothless smile of grimace intentions.
He knows I’ve missed my last ride home,
He smirks at my company.
Alone for all eternity.
He was once made of something beautiful.
Now all he does is wait,
Laughing at yesterday.
Filed under: writings | Tags: alone, growing, Patience, poem, poetry, wait, walk, walking
Be patient.
I am but a growing child.
Be patient.
I am but a wondering soul.
Be patient.
I am still trying to land on my feet.
Still trying to to find my guiding light.
The common truth.
The breaking point.
The shameless words.
The guilty pleasures.
Be patient.
I am running as fast as I can.
Be patient.
I am still just a little boy.
Walking alone for the very first time.
Sleeping in places that I shouldn’t be.
Waiting for faces that would abuse me.
I am walking alone.
Please be patient.
