Making time

 

Maybe it's how,

I gotta go in 10 minutes,

feels so different from-

I have 10 more minutes of sleep-

Or all lights are green

and other days every single one

makes you wait

reminding

Patience is virtuous

Following the divorce,

of course,

treading harder than ever

just to stay afloat-

On that same note

trying harder to keep 

inspired

instead of always feeling 

tired.

Grinding the mill stone

down to the metal

ore-

just

Stop and sink-

Or was it drop and think...

Into a poem

pocketing loose pieces 

while waiting

for the light to change.

Painting by Esperando La Pesca 'Waiting for the Catch' via Wikimedia Commons in Public Domain. 

D-cision (times)

When a person says “hanging by a thread”
Do they feel where the tether is connected?

Mostly suspended and trying to reconcile
Borrowed time,
Time itself stood firmly in front of me

While I was waiting to be told
how and where to move,
pretending I did not care.

How long each second seems when counting days…
I anticipated,
Am anticipating, I await a yellow box. Maybe today.
Already sent. To be
Here soon. Some of us can picture it
In transit.

I wonder if Schrodinger’s box can change colors,
Mid-ship-ment-
inside the dark mail bin-
People were praying,
And I did not know the words, so I thought
About the power of thoughts and how we change
Across our journeys
Those new destinations dangle the
Yellow fleece
But still, here we are,
Standing atop pins and needles
remaining tied to a place.

Painting by John Singer Sargent, 'Marionettes, Behind the curtain' c. 1903 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Chalk

Green, oh so serene,
            awash in heart
and yellow glow,
            gentle evening strength
And absorb
            the black smoke
and fireballs like shooting stars
             hurled in my direction
observing
             the energy, only-
I scoff-a slip-and then correct
my posture-composure-and breath
                   from inside the top of my
skull, I wait,
                   presently
for revelation
                    to show
nothing is real
but the indigo
                    I know.


Photo credited by Ross Burgener 2013 [Public domain].

Bide and bide

Patience was a problem
he was working on
And so: Nothing Doing about it
All's well that ends in a day.

Around the bend danger awaits,
there was no other way out.

Asking about contents and swatches
make a myriad of answers juxtapose and
work without reason.

I still stand-awaiting your reply.

His hyper heart, the others tainted blood, the ill-tuned organs, the laced food, the zombie pills, the (mixed) media/ (missed) messages, the dumb distractions, the deafening volume, the vast emptiness, the toxic air, the yellow water, the rush, the summit, the plummet-----
Do it NOW!
That is-jump-the wait is too great to hold onto for longer than patience holds peace.
Later-it will be too late to learn of love
and its heroic acts that fail to think
before giving up
the weight
was over.


Painting By Gordon Coutts (1869 - 1937) – creator Born in Glasgow, Scotland. Dead in San Francisco, California, United States of America [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Virtually Equivocal

I

Chastity is a bungee chord

acting like a liberator, life saver, 

a taste of free fall, an avian jaunt

before jerking you back to guilty landings

where you are held in suspension

for as long as tethered time cares

to keep a chord on your Chastity. 

II

Temperance is a troll

tending to the liberation Garden

like a Gnome making his home in Excess

giggling for no reason, led by curiosity

he banks on your unattended fortress of Will

digesting offenses, defending ob-scenes 

leading the way to stay and linger

III

Diligence is a termite

specializing in the boring method

no task is too large or dwelling too much

weakening the foundations one grain at a time, 

until completely through, but not full, moving on

to the new, fulfilling the termites due. 

 IV

Kindness is a bus driver

who notices you standing there and

even though you are strange, and have only change-

kindness gives you a lift, to get you

where you supposed to be, better later than never

waiting for the line, strangely glad to see you,  

and kind enough to pick you up.

V

Humility is a house

lacking mirrors and decor.

A crude shelter with a leaky roof

and boarded windows. A single story

with a welcome mat to wipe your feet

before moving out and up at home

on stilted loftiness.

VI

Charity is a waterfall

whose origin Springs naturally

flowing abundantly the farther it goes

picking up all, willing to be carried

in generous streams that drown

worries like eddies going nowhere

unlatching, succumbing to gravity in pools.

VII

Patience is not virtuous; nor even pious

loitering, lingering, lamenting in Limbo.

Only children have imaginary friends

and Time on their side.

Patience is a snowflake;

icy with oblivion, melting under fire,

dripping with Possibility.

Image By Jan Saenredam after Hendrik Goltzius c. 1615 (British Museum) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.