Poems Shedding Time

Time Lapse

 

A city of dread, chiming hearts, cherubs in PVC,

The day rolls on and the sky is shorn.

To truth we rove, to truth we strive,

To mourning we dive and celebrate;

Like tail-less lizards across the nocturne.

 

There are gods welded into truth.

And truth is the forge of gods.

But lust is the only bridge;

A lust for this moment and its epilogue,

A lust for the forever that never comes.

Where the cherubs crack their whips

There the emasculated beggars roar hollow.

 

For we are our own Big Bang –

The flesh is our nitrogen,

The spirit (s) is our helium,

And our own success is our entropy.

To what edge, what precipice,

Do we dangle our souls?

 

In this microsecond where the city stalls

And the towers cease their glistening,

A flock of happiness soars.

A murmuration of joy, numinous, coarse,

And as soon as you gaze upon it:

It disappears.

Now the city chimes again.

 

 

She, the Seasons

 

She smiles on the playground,

The season ages and surrenders.

Where is her reflection?

 

She fades into brightness,

The season ages and surrenders.

Who is her reflection?

 

She sees boats bobbing in her notebook,

The season ages and surrenders.

Am I her reflection?

 

She eats a pomegranate that drips on the grass,

The season ages and surrenders.

Is nature her reflection?

 

She smiles on the playground,

The season is her reflection

As it ages and surrenders.

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