I am
in Eden
a mother's
brother but
this chunnel
is surf
London would
scarf to
the sands
therein dawn
as their
bridge was
to cross
the air
with Tim
where in
Times Square

Buried deep in the ground
Waiting to be found
Ages pass
It shatters; like glass
These secrets we keep.

- Jay M
May 6th, 2019

What does make the time go?
because we insist not to know

our  ages
equal the time passes

Marble skin,
Sculpted clutch,

Solid and tender,
To the touch.

Depth of character,
Length of reason,

A modern day Greek,
In exactly his season.

Childhood is the sweet air of spring,
To laugh, dance and sing,
To give roots to be strong and happy,
And wings to fly.
Youth is the beautiful smile of summer,
A kiss and memories that last forever,
Enjoy the greenery of life of the season,
And sway with the leaves and flowers in the Sun,
Wooing,
Seducing.
Middle age is the crisp Autumn,
A mellower season,
When leaves are falling,
A change is happening,
Sweaters, scarves,feeling nostalgic,
Trying to bring back the magic,
Of health and well being,
A second spring.
Old age is life's winter,
Bare trees with icy splinter,
A need for comfort,good food and a caring hand,
A verdict of life,where we stand,
A reward of childhood and youth,
Middle age and its truth,
The last act,
Life's fact.

You're 1, you made it past.
You're 10, you made the pass.
You're 20, you didn't pass.
You're 30, that was your past.
You're 40, you walked past.
You're 50, you get a pass.
You're 60, you let it pass.
You're 70, you should pass.
You're 80, and now you're passed.

3000 BCE
the only world to exist is the one you live in

100 BCE
greater than we thought but so small

600 CE
the world is still so small we hate this box and the people here

1500 CE
the world is bigger than we could ever imagine but our small minds stay the same

1700 CE
we can expand and begin again

1900 CE
faster than we can comprehend we change

2000 CE
across the world in a matter of hours growing and expanding faster than ever the beginning of a new era

over millennia the question
     what is beauty
has occupied the minds
of great philosophers

museums, galleries, and private homes
     as well as public monuments
display the sculptures, paintings, texts, and movies
created by the artists of all cultures over time
with figures, colors, poems with(out) rhyme

looking at that variety
I do remember words of one much older
     “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”
Picasso speaks to one, Velasquez to another
some prefer Shakespeare, others e. e. cummings,
in movies we find Billy Wilder or Fritz Lang
right next to Eastwood or Sarandon

which of them we enjoy with great abandon
depends on whether  they can touch our heart and soul,
move us to tears, stir our thought,
or simply leave us speechless

we have that soft spot for the beautiful
reminding us that there are things that go beyond ourselves
     they touch us gently
     like the morning songs of elves

till suddenly the brilliance of human art
reaches the very depths of our heart

You know it's been raining, it´s been raining for ages
We have been stuck here while the world has been going places
You know we've been failing, we've been failing a century
We have been stuck here while the world has been free

We talked about it away from the storm
Away from the raindrops so we could keep each other warm
You´ve been wanting to leave, but now you won´t go
Don't ask me to stay now that I can only say no

For hours into the night I listened to your voice
In the peace and silence we felt like there was a choice
You´ve been wanting something more, I hear it in your tone
Don't ask me for it when it's something I do not own

You know it's been raining, it´s been raining for ages
We have been stuck here to dry tears of our faces
I will walk with you outside and down the road until its end
Soaked to the skin under the open sky, I don't think I´ll be warm again