We’re oft concerned about wasting time;
but, I have to ask you just, “Why?”
All eternity is but time, sublime;
for time is not scheduled to die.
What happens to time; once it is gone;
do we put it out with the trash?
Somehow, it appears as tho time
Poems about Reality
We’re oft concerned about wasting time;
but, I have to ask you just, “Why?”
All eternity is but time, sublime;
for time is not scheduled to die.
What happens to time; once it is gone;
do we put it out with the trash?
Somehow, it appears as tho time
Logic is quickly becoming extinct;
emotions are now taking over;
many would rather emote than think;
their minds don’t get much exposure.
Logic very often has little to say;
for all has been said long before;
it’s hard to explain why he’s that way;
for emotion will
Forgiveness is an energy child;
one I can’t seem to satisfy;
and so I remain, much reviled;
lacking the words to reply.
All of life is a matter of perspective;
strictly from the eye of beholder;
perception of some; strictly invective;
at least, until they’re much older.
Anger
…y
I feel so empty and all alone;
a balloon with all the air let out;
my home is no longer a home;
and purpose, I’m living without.
What purpose is life’s quest for me?
Reality seemed to divest me of care.
Life is theater, I don’t
I was simply sitting: relaxed in my chair;
suddenly it seemed like reality was faxed;
tho my awareness was found, elsewhere;
I was no longer feeling relaxed.
A bizarre moment; most unsettling;
seemingly exposing another dimension;
much like, with reality, I’d been meddling;
and reality had changed into my
I feel the gentleness of your breeze;
and the wisdom that lies within;
energies embody and accompany;
that I often dismiss as mere whim.
The cool air, soothing my brow;
bids your awareness come in;
though not understanding how;
all seeds of knowledge begin.
Wisdom is conveyed by the breeze;
…Time and space were fighting a war;
and time had the upper hand;
space had no place for time to fight for;
but time didn’t require the land.
The universe had space always looming;
but time kept marching on;
time’s armies; space kept consuming;
as time brought in
I washed my face with tears of sorrow;
then washed it again with tears of joy.
How can I learn to face tomorrow;
with new purpose I need to employ?
Which of these tears were tonic;
ones which replenished my soul?
It seemed more than a bit ironic;
both tears