Three Haiku for a Closing Year

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November’s shadow
Casts a long and murky pall
Over a dark year.

December grows near,
Promising a silent end
To a stolen year.

Only spring brings hope,
And within its welcome arms,
The warmth of rebirth.

On consideration of the Nature Of TIME

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APHORISMS:  On consideration of the Nature Of TIME

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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.

While Time Ticks On: 2-word Tales #15

Pen&Wash-WHB

WHILE TIME  TICKS  ON

Time tells
Its tale
Tick tock
Tock tick

If truth
Be told
When time
Runs out
I won’t
Be stressed
I won’t
Be tired
Just sad
Wist-full
Pen-sive
Love-sick

Yet still
Hell bent
To start
With zeal
Pre-pared
To do
Just what
It takes
To live
A-gain

Next time
In peace
Con-cord
Re-pose
While time
Still there
Ticks on

 

TATT

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Feeling exhausted is so common that it has its own acronym, TATT,
which stands for “tired all the time”.

Tired All The Time,
That’s me, it is, you see.
You’ve got it, Summed me up,
Down to that final T.

Why am I so idle,
Indolent and lazy?
It’s as though I am half-drugged,
Bush-whacked, spent, stir-crazy.

Is it just a phase,
Or am I going barmy?
Am I on the way out?
I know I’m full of blarney.

One moment I am drooping,
The next I’m sleeping soundly.
Either I’m wide awake,
Or else I’m snoring loudly.

Do you think that I
Should be on medication?
Do you think the weed
Would bring me consolation?

Maybe my malaise
Is entirely symptomatic?
I suspect it’s just my age
Makes me so problematic.

The Darling Buds

Photo:  ‘In a Surrey Garden’ – WHB – 2012

Here in my quietly cherished garden,
Where  golden flowers grow,
I love to linger long and taste
The flowers that I know.

But now around me where I see
The darling buds of roses,
They bring a powerful sense to me
Of life that decomposes.

Time has brought me to a point
Where life and love are frozen;
Where little I do has meaning, and
My future has been chosen.

For now I’m in a time cocoon
Where life has been suspended..
Where I can look but cannot see,
And reality has ended.

 

A Limited Life

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Take my breath away
yet let me live
my blinded eyes
they still can see the sun
I walk but cannot move
for fear to fall
my stulted words
restricted to my pen

Now all my thoughts
are centred on myself
not touch nor closeness
are allowed
to stunt my waking dreams
and life depends
on instant ends
the future makes no sense
and time has ceased

For now has lost its meaning
in the drift in which I live
day melds into night
and then returns
but only to repeat
its torpid trend
refusing to rekindle
that fire which burns
within my ashes urn

 

What is Happening?

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The ordinariness of life
As day succeeds on day,
Now grips more than it ever did
And fear is just a sneeze away.

What is it that tomorrow brings,
How trenchant is life’s grip,
Will time refuse to stumble on,
Is now just a minor blip?

Or is this really Armageddon,
Is it what was foretold,
Has fate at last revealed itself,
The future to unfold?

 

Friday – ‘Cometh The Hour’

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An aphorism for each day, keeps the doctor away. Each day this week I am offering a common aphorism, just slightly embellished – for good or ill.

 

 

Cometh the hour, cometh the man;

I hope he’s waiting in the wings.

Our world most surely needs him now,

Someone who love and wellness brings.

 

Once Upon Another Time

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Once Upon Another Time

 

Once upon another time
There lived a girl whose heart was mine.

For I loved her and she loved me,
Together we would always be.

But times have changed and so have we,
Allowing us new paths to see.

Those promises which once we kept
Have faded as we overslept.

And passing time and growing distance
Have slowly dulled, then killed, resistance.

Allowing other doors to open,
Other pledges to be spoken.

Until, as now, the past forgotten,
We venture on new paths untrodden.

To face a future, yet unknown,
Both of us left still alone.

 

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The Next Time

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The next time
will always be
the best time
Anticipation
feeds
breeds
on expectation

Tomorrow will be
better than Today
Yesterday’s
revitalised
successor,
Itself refurbished,
re-burnished.
with new hope

To travel hopefully
into an unknown world
of conjecture
and hypothesis
is to have faith
in uncertainty

 

And Optimism
is given to us
to make the future
bearable