Why does the ticking of the clock taunt me so?
As the hands spin around, I realize that I am running out of time.

Take my hand
as we walk along the patio
surrounded by clay
and fine china

As we look upon
those who are caged
eternally, timelessly
aging through
unbothered by the
deafening arms
of the clock as they
clap to meet.

Walk with me
through panels and
countless oil paintings


As we listen to the
songs of the violins
that cannot sing anymore,
tip-toeing onto
the sycamore tiles


Funny,
how fleeting
was considered
immortal


and only one
can differentiate


fleeting
from
timeless.


cause
fleeting,
are we
among the immortals;
we are just
passing through.

In the clear, calm stillness
of a chilly winter night,
where the stars twinkle
like icy diamonds in a
dark sapphire blue sky,
I feel the crisp, cold breeze
ruffling my hair and brushing
my cheeks,
hear the soft crunches of
freshly fallen snow beneath my shoes,
I look up to see twirling snowflakes
falling softly down upon the earth,
each one's intricate design
shimmering in the pale moonlight,
I catch them and peer at their
delicately crafted beauty,
but then suddenly they vanish,
leaving me alone, and wishing
that I too could vanish
along with them
and leave my presence to be mourned.

I was hoping for sunshine
Instead you brought me rain.
I thought it would be all pleasure
But it ended up causing pain.
I wish you’d sung me love songs
That fell on my ears like psalms
Instead you turned away from me
And I had nothing in my palms.

I wanted to assuage my heart
That I would not be alone
But I seem to be a person who
Disgusts you to the bone.
I’ll never understand how you
Could turn from hot to icy cold
Somehow the love you felt at first
Quite suddenly got too old.

You no longer gently smiled at me.
And you found my jokes unfunny.
We began to live in cloudy skies
That never quite turned to sunny.
We both had misjudged the other
And things went south from there;
Made a wrong turn at Albuquerque
And I think I know just where.

It started when you realized
I’m not good at one-month stands.
You looked up and looked around
To see who else was at hand.
And since there are always those
Who date based on a guy’s looks
You became all hot and bothered
And I became one for the books.

One more notch on your pistol
A face to avoid on meeting.
One more victim of your game
That deserves no kind of greeting.
The good side of this story is
I am no longer under your spell.
I am going to move onward now
And let you sashay to hell.

For that one night that made us feel alive
For all the fleeting moments we never thought we'd share together
For all the stories we painted in shallow walls
For the sins that we almost committed, but didn't
For the pain that you've caused my heart
For all the thank you's
For all the goodbyes
This is my final goodbye
You'll forever linger in my mind

Slowly find your balance
Feel the flow
Know your limit
Capture the moment
And say goodbye

I consider existence an opportunity:
Think of the trillions upon trillions of would be humans denied life.
How is that I, a person so nondescript, could be afforded this opportunity?
How am I able to exist when so many others can't?

How is that I exist in this millisecond within the hour?
A millisecond between the stars and the monarchs.
Who would I be if I didn't exist right here?

Fleeting. That's how I would describe this.
I may live to be ninety or I may live just one more day.
It all feels the same.
But will I?

I'm just clamoring for one more day.
But why do I clamor?
Why do I clamor for another day of complacency?

I enjoy this opportunity that I have yet to truly fulfill.
It's a matter of when, and not if.
Who will I be when the reaper comes knocking at my door?
Will I be who I am now?
If so, what a waste of a precious opportunity.
Will I be something better?
Could I be?