Positivity – HAIKU

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HAIKU

 

The passage of time

Leads me to a second life

Wherein I flourish. 

 

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Time’s Imperative

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Image – courtesy of pexels.com

TIME’S IMPERATIVE

As time ticks on and counts the days 
Leaving my past behind, 
I notice how my history fades,
I become both deaf and blind.

Time holds its head above the crowd 
Perceiving what’s ahead,
But never looking back to see
What I have heard and said. 

Relentless in its forward tread
And ruthlessly intent
On making sure the future comes,
On certitude hell bent.

Oh, tell me then pig-headed Time,
Why this relentless pace
Cannot be paused allowing me
To stay life’s hectic race.

If I could stop your clock and cause
One single beat to sever,
I’d grasp that moment with both hands
And live in it for ever.

 

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A Conundrum

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Sycamore helicopter seedlings: Photo – WHB 2018

A CONUNDRUM

The ant that scampers from my tread,
Does it feel the fear, the dread, 
The threatened onslaught of my shoe,
Does it fear as I would do?

Does it wonder if the rest – 
His sibling brothers in the nest – 
Would miss him if he did not return
Would they show the least concern?

Or would his absence not be noted; 
Never mentioned, never quoted? 
Just another gap in time,
Neither sordid nor sublime.

I ask God in my ignorance,
What then is the difference
Between this threatened ant and me;
Which of us should cease to be? 

 

close up photo of ant

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

The Detritus Of Time

 [ Wednesday Replay # 5 ] 

Previously Posted on September 6, 2016

 

BodyInThePool-2004Devon

TIME’S  DETRITUS

Once upon a time,
In a pool and mired in grime,
I found a body, floating high.
A desolate place to die.

A basin for a tomb;
Blue plastic for a shroud.
A watery necropolis
For beauty now anonymous.

Abandoned, left to rot,
That was to be her lot.
Discarded and bereft,
Beauty the sands of time had left.

She’s found a resting place
Without sacrament or grace.
Long ago loved but now
The victim of a broken vow.

This unseemly end
My heart did rend.
‘The detritus of time’
Will end my rhyme.

 

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The photograph was taken by me in 2004 on a farm in East Devon, England.

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TIME – A Sonnet

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‘Head of Adam’ Copy in Pencil of Michelangelo’s painting in the Sistine Chapel. Vatican City, Rome … by WHB -1981

The dust of borrowed time 

Has settled on my soul 

Clogging my receptors, 

Taking further toll

On my retreating days 

Aware as I am now 

How limited my gaze

Which cannot tell me how

Much latitude I have

How bad will be the weather

My seasons tell my stories 

Now all have come together 

Time reaches out to garner me

I’m handing in my history’s key. 

 

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DALI IN LONDON

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DALI  IN  LONDON

I saw on the London South Bank
This statue and to be quite frank,
I thought it bizarre,
Something from a bazaar;
Surely this is the work of a crank?

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I was told I had Dali to thank
Surely a bit of a prank?
This mammoth in metal
My sight did unsettle –
Where taste goes I’m thick as a plank.

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However that soon was outdone
By a dripping watch out in the sun;
Called ‘Nobility Of Time’,
Which hardly did chime
With Big Ben, England’s favourite son.

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But then on this old riverbank
Another sight this did outflank,
A torso was carved
In two it was halved.
From exploring further I shrank.

dali5

Now I know you’re a self-publicist
And your paintings I love them to bits.
Senor  Dali, please choose;
You’ve nothing to lose
If you want to stay off my blacklist.

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Photographs, apart from the top one of Dali himself, and the one of the clock, were taken by me in 2002.  The Exhibition of Dali’s work, previously housed in the old London County Hall, is now closed and the exhibits, one of the most extensive collections of Dali’s work in different media, are currently, I understand, awaiting a new venue.

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LIFE FORCE – ONE

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LIFE  FORCE – ONE

When shadow turns to substance
In the still of morning’s birth,
Then once again I wonder
How much my life is worth.

Have I in the scheme of things
At last outlived my time?
I want to last a fair span yet,
To hope is not a crime.

I long to do a thousand things
I’ve not had time to do,
But is that just a selfish wish
I’m not entitled to?

So many of my friends have gone,
Lives past while mine’s still here.
Do I deserve more time on earth,
Or is my ending near?

Such morbid thoughts occur to me
More frequently each day.
I rush to pack more living in,
No halt, pause or delay.

Despite the limits on my life
My time is filled with actions.
Yet still my mind frets at the thought
Of those un-lived attractions.

Why am I selfishly intent
On hurtling to nirvana,
Grasping at each passing chance
More enhanced life to garner?

I could so quietly subside
Into a life of ease;
No rush, no great exigency 
My daemons to appease.

Yet I am not content like that,
I must remain on course,
To stay with, in the time I’m left,
This imperative life force.

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 The two photographs were taken by me in London’s Roman Amphitheatre, which can be found in its restored state in the basement of the City of London Guildhall.

These Roman remains, thought to date to the 1st Century AD,  were discovered when the Guildhall Art Gallery was being re-developed in 1985.  The original structure could house over 7,000 spectators seated on tiered wooden benches in what would then have been the open air, where they watched the execution of criminals as well as fights, usually to the death, between wild animals and gladiators.
More can be discovered about these little-known remains of the Roman Londinium on the City of London website at:

London’s Roman Amphitheatre

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Time’s Hold

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‘Hope’ (2nd version) by George Frederick Watts . . . 1886 . . . Tate Gallery

 

TIME’S  HOLD

You are what might have been 
on that alternative path,
my abandoned way re-discovered.

But what is now is salient; 
you make me an offer,  
propose to me a future 
that will not arise  
unless hope turns to reality
before Time tires. 

When life was fast dissolving,
when my world
 was being wrenched apart,
then, supporting your own cross, 
you came from nowhere
to reach out, to connect,
to take my hope
and cherish it.

What I am left with
is no longer despair, 
but the veiled thrill
of tomorrow’s augury.

You could resolve my need,
bring me that accord, 
of touch, of feel, of senses, 
of minds in tune. 

What you do – for me, now,
is to engender lust, 
that lust of my youth,
for life, for certitude,
which can repel my languor, 
now sequestered by age,
and bring a new intensity,
revivify that spark
which once embellished all.

No longer my past innocence, 
but a considered offering,
a last grasp at time’s hold on me.

 

hope

 

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An Unfitting End

BodyInThePool-2004Devon

TIME’S  DETRITUS

Once upon a time,
In a pool and mired in grime,
I found a body, floating high.
A desolate place to die.

A basin for a tomb;
Blue plastic for a shroud.
A watery necropolis
For beauty now anonymous.

Abandoned, left to rot,
That was to be her lot.
Discarded and bereft,
Beauty the sands of time had left.

She’s found a resting place
Without sacrament or grace.
Long ago loved but now
The victim of a broken vow.

This unseemly end
My heart did rend.
‘The detritus of time’
Will end my rhyme.


The photograph was taken by me in 2004 on a farm in Devon. UK.
– as was the photograph used in my blog of 25th August 2016.