On consideration of the Nature Of TIME

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APHORISMS:  On consideration of the Nature Of TIME


When Yesterday’s dream
BecomesToday’s reality
All mystery is lost.

When life’s great passion
Turns to dust
Is life still worth the living?

When tomorrow’s goal
Is reached today
How empty becomes the future.

When life and love
are intertwined
Where does pleasure end?

When age has killed
youth’s certitude
What price is placed on doubt?

When yesterday’s promise
Turns into today’s disappointment
It becomes tomorrow’s regrets.

His Life In Books

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His Life In Books

His books were loved
as he loved his life
for they and he were one
each volume held a world
within its covers
a seed already grown
a life already lived
both beginning and end
alongside the life between
where the living
the dead
and the dreamt-of
coexist
in pages of printed passion
grey words and purple passages
telling of love
adventure
the commonplace and the rare
of depression and elation
delight and despair
but always
under the bright stars
of expectancy and hope

Your World Or Mine?

ball shaped blur close up focus

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Your World Or Mine?

The world in which you live is not my world,
Close as we intermingle when we meet.
However much I try to understand,
The gap between us still is
bitter-sweet.

It holds its mysteries which I cannot breach,
Try as I always do to understand.
Your loves, your passions, seem to me as strange
As some unfathomed febrile wonderland.

But when I hold you in my midnight thoughts,
When dreams replace that cold reality,
It is as though we are completely one,
How trivial, how petty, our disparity.

 

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My MoJo

beach blur clouds dawn

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My MoJo

Please let me have my mojo back,
My passion has abated;
Now faded into lustless life,
All rapture now vacated.

This fractious war’s collateral damage
Has snagged me in its thorns,
And leaving me dispirited,
Has taken other forms.

For all the hurt I now repress
The damage leaves its mark.
What will it take to bring it back
That vital vibrant spark?

 

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Reverie#8: A Song Before Leaving

close up of tree against sky

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Oh my love
paint me into the shadows of your dreams
I want to be there among the drifting moonbeams of your waning passion
and as their dim light fades in the morning dew
to watch as our hopes sink slowly
through pools of deepest blue.

Let their adagio
their mellow harmonies
accompany the murmurings of my fading breath
and as its remnants settle on the bed of those fathomless depths
let them guide my blissful path to Heaven

 

Bar-Rose

Now Gone the Buzz

silhouette photo of man and woman kissing

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NOW GONE THE BUZZ

 

More lust than love
More greed than need
A risk too far
A stolen kiss
A snatch at bliss

A chance to fly
To challenge fate
Perhaps to catch
That passing star

Danger denied
And fear defeated
Replaced by want
By hunger
Longing
Oh, the need

Heedless of falling
Angst riven
Success driven
The wire so near
The fire so strong
Fingers knuckle-burnt
Dipped in greed

The risk taken
The book not played by
Rules deformed
to suit my purpose
The world being mine
To redesign

One night of passion
Now gone the buzz

Regret came later
As it does

 

Bar-Rose

The Black Bra

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Black on Red
It stood
Proud statement
Discarded in frenzy
All passion spent
Improperly passive now
Objet trouvé
Found flotsam
Overstating its status
Bright
Bold
Yet benign

No threat 
No danger
The sad music of lust
Transmuted
Statuesque

Fashioned by whim
Now become
A seafront memento
In memoriam
Of some casual
Teasing escapade
A littoral reminder

Perhaps
Of a purple period
Of passion
Part Bikini
Or
Plain Brassiere

 

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Photos by kind permission of Canadian artist, Alma Kerr

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A touch will be enough

monochrome photo of couple holding hands

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

A touch will be enough

I think of my first love
who escaped south
and who now faces old age
with a brightness
far better than death’s impending despair.

My last love,
All passion spent,
Was of a quiet deep fulfilment
of silent bliss
engaging me
while the blackbird
for both of us now
sings in the highest tree
and, with a distant touch of the hands,
a slower walk with the waves
on that distant shore,
bird and sea,
my soul is fed,
listening to their songs
keeping at bay life’s end.

For now
I dream converse,
I listen to my memories,
resisting that clouding of the vision
which elapsed time brings.

I allow perception of days to come
in which appreciative eye
and halcyon heart
will enable a new closeness,
one of being together
in harmony with both past and present,
and the future becomes again
brighter.

A touch will be enough.

 

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