punching time

 

Day in and day out, we punch time

Our fists blued, our eyes grimed

By smoke, we beat ourselves brain dead

Where does this end, this life we dread

We step off trains & skip sky dreams

Grinding hours for someone's creme

Sinking deeper to debts & weeds

Where does this end, this life we dread

We mute our voices to nil

Lacking timbre & jars to fill

Carrying hurts, chests rippled red

Where does this end, this life we dread

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Complaint, A Poem of Lament.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

Time in a Loop

 I lean into the summer light

With a whiff of yesterday's song

Heat was sweltering, our palms sweaty 

Figuring out where's the exit, under all the confetti

Confetti strips on my lashes, 

Lashes wet from rain, weight of blues

Blues polished under the silver moon

Moon is grand but a stoic muse

I gave him nothing to reel & relish

All our memories crashed in the hard drive - perished

All my poems tossed in the black sand

We figured out that peace comes with heavy strands

Strands of shadows & rough greys

Greys in rainbows after the quick storms

Storm of hail lulls, with the burst of afternoon sun 

Sunroom, where it all started like a dream

We now wander in circles, ever widening

Our calendars out of sync, tides are running

In a knot of missed hitches, time is a loop 

You and I mirror, yesterday in a swoop

Note:  This is a variation of Loop Poetry.  The other ones are:

I.   Summertime in Ontario

Yesterday’s cold dusted in a blink

Blink, and the minute turns

Turns to long hour, my eyes

Eyes the clock, sun burns

Morning air is humid, crackles

Crackles turn to birdsongs

Birdsongs break the crisp hum, hush

Hush! where’s the rain, so far along

Evening paints a peach cooler time

Time is patient as sugar maple trees

Trees so vibrant green, summer is a toast

Toast to begonias, blue sky, buzzing bees!

II.  Weekdays in a blur

Monday {yawns} opens the door to Tuesday

Tuesday rushes in, fluffs the pillows for Wednesday

Wednesday offers ice wine & hot gossip to Thursday

Thursday laps it all up, in cruise control, awaiting Friday

Friday is in a pink party mood, dancing until early Saturday

Saturday is in no hurry, lounging in pajamas until Sunday

Sunday is <lost>in book & clouds, forgetting time & Monday

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Loop Poetry.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST and try your hand in loop poetry.  There are 3 variations of loop poetry and I have shown all 3 here.  Thanks for your visits and comments.   

Variations:

1. Stanzas, writers choice on the number, no rhyming, the last word, first word scheme is maintained.

2. One long stanza, no limit on number of lines, no rhyming scheme, the last word, first word scheme is maintained.

3. Couplets mixed with 4 line stanzas, the last word, first word scheme is maintained in the stanzas. It can also be used in the couplets. Rhyme scheme is ab, cc, defg, hh, ii, jklm, nn, oo.

the paradox of the changing clocks

minute hand moves 

forward, but escape wheel

is stuck

-tiny buds wilt in tail of winter's breath-

-leaves shiver-shrink from false

spring's embrace-

grip this season 

of becoming

as the blossoming earth

peels back

-dead skin-

-mourning dress coats-

we thirst for life

(deeply)

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille hosted by Lisa.  This is a 44 word post with the chosen word, SEASON.  Thanks for the your visit and comments.

the silent hour

I failed to see the hour of the sunset

In silent room, where vase of marigold

promises spring & stories untold

Your hands are still, pickled by distress

In silent room, where vase of marigold

hides from fury & sorrow no one can address

Your hands are still now, pickled by distress

It is time to weep & fold

And hide this fury - this sorrow -no one can address 

I refrain from gathering stones, my chest is cold 

Is it time to weep & fold

Remembering the times of cheers & guesses

I refrain from gathering,  stones in my chest are cold

Numbed by promises of spring & stories untold

Remembering the times of cheers & guesses

I failed to see the hour of the sunset



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Lillian.  The poetic form is Pantoum.   Please give your constructive feedback as this is my first time to compose a poem in this form.  I am not sure if my last stanza is correct.

Inspired by Tuesday's poetics, Turn, turn, turn:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven:  a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace. 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 American Standard Version (ASV)

first wintry day

time reveals itself
in rustic colored leaves
frozen in pond

overhead, veils and
silhouettes of bare knuckled
branches and shrubs drip
layer upon layer, moments of

eternity

above the cityline,
brown buildings and sweeping lake 
brows landscape, grey now,
after midnight burst of firecrackers

i shake off
"What ifs" and "Why didn't I" thoughts
to winter doldrums
and draw
the bluest of sky & golden sun
inside my head

nowadays, time travels in circular path
much like ducks 
gliding serenely around the same pond
-only my eyes are new-

water glints soft silver-rain
sharpening my focus, to what can be
and leaving behind
scribbled pages & notes, straying
in wind

Frozen pond

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Time and What If, hosted by Merril Smith.   Thanks for the visit.

6 Pieces of Time

I.    time is a water jug
      i forget
      in a corner

II.    time is a feather
       cold, stripped from bone-
       but warm as lilac ribbed-blanket
       on your chest

III.   time is a clay
       molding me 
       until i learn 
       to unmold myself  

IV.   time is a lull 
       between raindrops
       the pause, between letters
       and musical notes
       as my mind wanders
       in ink, brush and pottery tool

V.    time is the missing
       eye, ear or finger 
       i lost in the journey
       i may never retrieve it
       but if i ever do,  
       i will carry it
       sacred
       into the dusk

VI.   time is a tango
       dance
       with you-
       always with you-



Posted for the D'verse poets pub - poetics on Time.   Hosted by Lillian ~

Thanks for the visit ~

The matter of time

Caras Ionut

This morning, time ran out
without clothes & shoes
No explanations were given
in short meeting & email that followed-

I went back to my office cube
& checked my watch-
It was still stuck to one hour plus+
Like a stubborn dial or broken wheel

My 30 min. lunch break vanished in 1 min. 
while my 10 min. advisor negotiations  
ambled slow, stealing half of my day -
I fall into this hard-to-break habit: 

Time
Per Hawking's theory
are of two types - real &
Imaginary (like a tea time to a child)

Tomorrow is a tyrant 
if things aren't done today, so I
smooth yesterday's files into
wrinkle-free pages, as if time neither
expanded nor collapsed but held its breath -  
 
I type my decision:   No
change in the pricing!  (Keep the client happy)   
 
Then I think of pushing out
to sea in the boat & calling time out -
Why did you leave me here?
Stuck with box of hanger coats 
They're a burden to carry -

But I hesitate
to scamper after time  
yelling:   Come & Be Happy here !

I'm rooted to this office 
Where everyone invents & misses numbers- 
Usual culprit:  There wasn't enough time
4:00 pm

I go home & untie
time & space as if they're ribbons in my hair-
They scamper polka dotted marbles
Settling in their picture frames, contented -

But I'm not-
My poster reads - Don't Disturb me! 

Into a "wormhole" (Hawking's term)
I slip slide slow  
Reading words again
again
Now here lies a mystery: 
Even at first glance
I know them intimately like a lover's body 

Evening pulls 
palmed milky, combusted of stars
I gaze at blue crinkling sky,  
shimmering, an eternal pond -

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight ~  Thanks for the visit ~ 

Obsession

obsession with words 

letters, phrases, syllables 

to write perfect verse 

racing against time

catching thoughts in mid-air flight

to rest in our hands    

0~0~0

sand trickling hourglass,

every second counts as time, 

won't wait nor tarry   

moments carved in glass,

wrapping the past with colours    

irreplaceable 

  

Posted for Haiku Heights:   Prompt # 94 is Obsession. 


One Single Impression:   Hourglass


picture credit:   http://getoutofbednow.tumblr.com/