Thursday, 18 October 2012

Time

Run out.
Run off.
The inevitable approaches.
I wish I had.
I wish I hadn't.
I hope. I hope.
I give in.
This too shall pass.
Sleeping, waking,
unraveling.
Predestination;
free will.
Arminius vs Calvin;
heaven vs. hell.
Eternity.
Now.
What I see,
what I feel,
gone.
What I thought,
gone.
Only a pins point
of awareness, always
time is an illusion.

4 comments:

  1. I just read Anke's poem and perhaps that is impacting my reading, but I do feel/hear a tic toc sound in your words. Was that synchronicity, intention, or the residual of another poet's words "happily infecting" your poem?

    Whatever it is, I enjoyed thoroughly. Thank you for writing and posting.

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    1. Subconsciously, happily, infected by Anke's ...poems

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  2. Really a beautiful meditation on what time means every day, though we rarely confront this illusion.

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    1. Thanks Beth. Lots of fun this poem a day.

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