Living is a long thread
Of yarn, sometimes in
My favorite color, a red
So bright and vibrant it
Leaves no mystery but
Can always be found.
In subtler moments, a
Quiet beige blends into
The corners, teases but
Never tempts or stands
Out, not flagrant or bold.
The yarn makes patterns
It clumps in soft places.
The defiance gone from
It after days of following
Its destiny. Color mixes,
Dulled by the passing of
Time, only hinting at its
Fullest force.
Category Archives: Time
What do I know?
Italics on the do and on the know
Letter to myself, and,
Clearly, others. This
Letter may prove long.
A letter is long; it is not
«Note to self,« where
The "my" is omitted,
Left out because self-
Explanatory. Or just in
The interest of brevity.
Abbreviations often are,
Brief, that is, in the hope
Of being brief or briefer.
Letter to myself, to get
Back on track and no
Shortcuts, in the interests
Of brevity, of shortening
The inevitable advice, the
Words of wisdom gained
From the years the future
Inexplicably, relentlessly
Piled on, is time now to
Be my teacher, or yours.
Note to self, explore this
Further and farther as
Time passes. Back to that
Letter to myself, have I
Learned nothing from so
Many years of living? Do
I, must I hesitate to share
Some grain of enlightened
Understanding, my hard
Scrapped knowledge? Is
Knowing necessary? Or
Knowing better? Am I
Here to share insights
That you, too, may have
Made, even some in your
Younger years, your teens
Or thirties? What did I
Know in my forties that
Wasn't obvious when I
Turned eighteen? Was I
Smarter at 50 than I had
Been then? Are you? Oh,
Remember, I write this to
Myself, not you, not you,
Necessarily, but do play
Along. I was a ridiculously
Serious child. Did that fuel
Frivolousity, okay, not a
Word, as I matured? Am
I so much wiser that I can
Leave hints, the bread
Crumbs of a life best lived
On your doorstep? A letter
To myself from now to
Then. From now to Zen?
What has time taught us
It's eight o' somewhere or
Perhaps 5pm as drinkers
Share. Grab a gin, mix in a
Tonic. Salud. But time does
Not just mark the rotations
For cocktail hour or bedtime
If you're sleepy. It is a valued
Tool when you've wanted to
Knock off work or plant crops
It's junior only to a season's
Measure but more intimate
And personal in its breadth.
You know that it's 5 o'clock
Somewhere. Raise a glass
Or just dim the lights and
Head home. Closing time.
Impatient
Nine months has turned into
Well over a year, time in which
Time to which, time for which
I could claim I languished. I did
Not. I crave an answer. A yes,
Yes much preferred. But a no
Is a simple acknowledgement
Too. I feel we had a contract. I
Turn over my work, deeply felt
Poems to you and some one of
Your poetry editors says ok or
Goodbye, we'll pass. Good luck.
Tick tok
Do you need time?
Time, it's of the essence.
Time, it's elusive. Time is
What we crave or dream
On. We waste it or hoard
It, lose it, or gain it. Time
To work. Time to play. We
Fill the hours as we can.
They go too fast. They go
Way slow. Time, it's ours.
Time is hours. Tick. Tick.
Have you the time?
I have never stressed more over
The loss - or is it the gain? - of an
Hour. Fall back. We give away a
Bunch of them when we travel.
Those timezones cost, and pay
For the pleasure of meeting a
Daring Frenchman or a dashing
Brit. After our trip, we fall into
A different time. It's not ours, it
Is theirs. Are we in Rome! Oh my,
What time is it? I've lost track.
Procrastination
What have you been putting off doing? Why?
Later. Not now.
Time's not right.
Waiting for the
Sign, the omen
The wow. Then
It'll be the moment
The time, ripe, and
Ready. It's a go. When
The time's right,
You just know.
Enlightened
What is the most important thing to carry with you all the time?
It's time to explore carry water, chop wood
Do you have the time? A lifetime, I should
Say. We have that to spare. All the time in the
World, time to explore and learn and also the
Time that is just ours, our lifetime that we make
Time for. I may be time obsessed or just take
The time to focus my time, my lifetime, on time.
Are we on time, or are we just spending time?
Where does the time go?
Which activities make you lose track of time?
I am obsessed with time, but
Time is not always as kind to
Me. Nor as thoughtful. It just
Passes me by, willy-nilly and
Careless as you please. Time.
Where does the time go? Why
Should its passing mean so
Much to me when it cares so
Little? I'm obsessed with time
But it doesn't give a fig for me
Missed
You are beloved and my
Love is in real time and
For now time may be all
We have to account for
Who we are and how we
Love. You, my beloved,
Not only lose time, you
Also misinterpret it. The
Loss is hard. Time when
It's misplaced does not
Come back to us. You,
And I by your side, are
Loving in misinterpreted
Time. If you think it's 6
When it is nine we lost
Three hours we could
Really use to live and
Love, to care, treasure.
It is our time slipping
Away, misunderstood.
Tamara, really 