Time the reaper
As scrolls are rolled their contents sealed
the sky enfolding in wave upon wave's
contraction washing the world
with every season's pass
Time the heartless reaper
swings that sickle sharpened through age
slicing my season's measured bounds
reducing passions to succeeding relevance
Another appointed harvest executes
the slaughter of roses redundant in bloom
the air still sick with their faded perfume
which once brought bliss to a sojourner's meditation
barely perceived by another's lack of hesitation
to quicken the time of his imperceptible race
From the threshing floor I snatch and bear nigh
intending to capture from corruption
the concealed rose pushed beyond age
Without withstanding present poundings upon my bosom
its pressed form marks its moment in eternal memoirs
till each passing now remains exhausted
and utterly spent
Where does the time go?
Where does the time go?
Time in motion rolls over the stages of my life
its arid afternoons and frostbitten mornings.
Perhaps time is refined into ink for heaven's notebook
my life found in its letter
as dotted i's and crossed t's aptly pen feelings in singular dimension
or is it collected in golden vessels and fashioned into thread
for angels to weave a tapestry
its colours my character, its design mapping the paths I've tread
perhaps time is reduced to bits
1s and 0s that carry the information to synthesise a reality we desire
stored in the hard drive of the mind, or software of the heart
or is time recorded as memories
evergreen movies replayed on lazy afternoons
as I review your face with faded sound quality
maybe time is recycled, misconceived by mortals to be linear
its swinging circle forcing repetition upon their successes and failures
and for lost friends to be refound
perhaps time passes into an intangible realm
where future and past embrace in technicolour dreams?
I dream in colour
If your nights are painted black and blue
how could I explain these things to you?
Touch my heart in flowery words
simplicity's exposing me today
it's blunt knife tears this soul's worn garment
till there's nothing left to say
Naked, you take it away
Do you feel powerful now?
If I back down, so you can take the stage
If I shut up, while your voice is raised
If I am harassed, but you turn your face?
Romantic euphemisms quickly erase
hush, tranquilise, take me away
details overstated overwhelm my view
till no space remains for the pettiness of you
The day I announced
"A chemical engineer I'm gonna be
play with polymers
and start my own company
making rulers that won't bend."
I presented you my ruler
and verdict on its ill-manufacturing.
"Forget about it", you sneered
"Polymers are for the birds.
A process engineer you should be."
But as the weight of your opinion lifted
after a year or three
I pursued the path marked by your resistance.
For I listened - and own your persistence -
"I won't be here forever"
you once said to me