Tag Archives: death

11 / 30 – The switch

Sweet natured berry

Your pain left the world with you.

Love and pain blurring

The cycle pedaled

Your light’s ever bright

Framing you through us

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Filed under 30 day challenge, Random Poetics

4/ 30 A blues for Ruby

Mood Indigo
Book of blue notes turned encyclopaedia
A Glasgow kiss feels easier to bear
The pain of you not being here

Blue notes.
Melody sharper than citrus tipped arrows
I look to the sun and find you in the shadows
In your sleep, you remain hallowed

Some say I’m sentimental like a sudden burst of thirst for your first
Sometimes for the best, the worst comes to worst.
Can’t blame the doctors, won’t blame the nurse.
In the song of my life, you were a producer with a great featured verse.

My mood… indigo, yet finding new greens
Your principles were priceless.
Hope to see you in my rest
Reunited, under the supreme

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Mortal Man

malcolm-1

Can mortal man get everything his way?

As long as there is power to be had and money made

With that religion he’s a God or so he plays

So, acts of God aren’t covered by insurance

Who’s his author? Scriptwriter for this performance

Who’s really under force majeure?

Can mortal man get everything his own way?

Doors open and shut, string has to be cut

How long we can we hold a note?

When is it too short?

Can it ever be the right length?

Can mortal man get everything his own way?

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Filed under 30 day challenge, Just Living, Random Poetics

2/30 – Penny on the pavement

Too busy sipping tea to smell the roses.
Pockets full of pansies, posers
Too busy seeing red to be a Moses.
Ignoring the driftwood while singing Oceans.
Too busy, too focused to be open.
Neglect a catalyst of foreclosure.
Drowning, Emotion, Head up, No One. Head shot, Implosion,
Rest in peace? We don’t know that.

Nice memories, for sure, yeah.
Too busy being me to notice
That’s what it’ll be til it’s over, til it’s over
It is far from over….

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Haiku – #ALM

Watermelon smiles and trigger happy chickens.

Melting pot meltdowns.

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Drifter

Watching a Father losing his son in front of his eyes.

Seeing the screams barricade his heart in the name of strength

Like the last drop of water rung from a spun load

A tear fell

Traffic stopped, my eyes gazed sky wards

Watching my Father like a worn watch

Praying for time, wondering what will happen when

It happens

There’s a first time for everything they say

He hugs me now with more strength than he ever disciplined me with

We are old friends that once were foes

It’ll soon be time for me to complete the circle

I hope we can hula hoop, if but for a moment

Though some stone him, his shoes I have grown in

Shunning the shade of shalom with my mother’s tongue

I am my Father’s son,

Enlightened I wonder when that which will be has come

Will I be bound or free

Torn between his life and my existence

Conflicted.

A little boy lost

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Clockwatching

clock-watching

They say time is a healer but…

Time has no hands, no feet, and no voice to speak.

With no needs to meet,

You and I create time

Time doesn’t have feelings

It doesn’t have love or hate to deal with

It can’t discern the fantasist from the realist.

It can’t read your reactions

Nor does it have a face to face the consequences

You and I create time

You and I decide between dark and light

You and I decide when we’re ready to walk into the deep

We weep until the drought is fierce

We survive on the fruits of our faith in the reflections we find

You and I create time

Will time test and tell or do you and I indulge in the canonisation of self-preservation

Creating tall tales with foundations for generations

Do we tell many times so that time can tell.

If time talked, we could have a conversation

If time healed, maybe I’d have regular vaccinations because shoulda, woulda, coulda, never turns time’s tables.

Now if time can be bought, how do you loot it, can it be taken?

They say there’s time for everything, but all I see is man’s arrangement.

Like learning English as a foreign language, the context is a maze in

the fact that we are but choices of creation

If eternity is really time, a paradise that we’re awaiting

What materials are you building with if life is simply time that we’re creating?

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