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Farhan Ahmed May 11
The story is in the headlines,
The dates have reached the deadlines.
Incomplete plot all around,
Until its center is found.
But you will applaud for the tale be told as such

Smile and say, thank you very much
The stories picked from the timeline to be told.
caroline May 11
time is a man made construct
yet here I am
in the age of snapchat and iron man
the dinosaurs are long gone
the plague has left us too
the warfare of north and south
is all in the rear view
we’ve flown past the moon
and left the braids behind
if I had a bluetooth time machine
what else might I find?
He has
His story
She has hers

The story

They are strangers
Genre: Observational
Theme: Journey
To those who
Your present

Never rush
Vibrate higher
Dream bigger

Have trust
On better

And that's
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Effort || Better Man Project
Last night
Holding me tight
He whispered
“You want to keep me?”
Yes, always.
“I guess I’d better get you a ring.”
I smile
Trying to hide what I’m thinking.
That this is terrifyingly exciting.
Due dates;
A revolving strain on time,
A resulting
For proven effort;
Our productivity
Our professional fate?
We look inward,
And contemplate,
And find
Our update
Is late
Nick Stiltner Oct 2018
Have you ever tried to draw a picture
without lifting the pencil from the paper?

One line, uninterrupted and looping
in on itself, swerving in arcs and switching
directions at sharp points.

The line grows at a constant rate
but the vectors change, how the wind is blowing
and the wobbling arrow of the compass.

A head hanging closely over the paper
and a hand pressing the pencil with trembling
force against the desk.

Eyes squinted, focused intently on the next
angle as the lead begins to tremble and *****.
Just a little more, just one more turn
the piece hasn't come together yet.

The timer beeps its descending count
10 to 9 and 8 to 7.
Sweat condenses on the brow
and the lead shatters
as it lets out its electronic shriek.

Now lift your head, trace the line with your finger
where it loops and why,
and when the work is done you will realize
where the line drifted away
from the hazy picture you had in your mind.

A scribble dons the paper,
the line intersecting randomly
and turning when it reached the edge,
influenced by the frame, not your whim.
Tommy Randell Aug 2018
I dreamed a Life where living was nothing but Dreaming
I walked through mirrors room to room as my mirrored self
Walked by me his eyes downcast so as not to know his future
Or show me mine.

Going into town I strolled in and out of Shop Windows
Watching myself there across the street wondering on the meaning
Of all my other selves reflected and refracted
Swimming through light. Separate journeys but one destination.

Are we so many? Bounced window to window down the street
Do we rush ahead to a future which changes before we arrive?
Or lag behind to notice what we missed perhaps the first time?
What do we get up to elsewhere on our Time-line?

Later shaving I looked myself in the eye and tried to see
Thought of being in the mirror and separately trying to be me
Only to make myself smile only then to make myself wonder
Which of me smiled first..?
Jonathan Surname Aug 2018
The ocean never cared, only carried.
The universe never felt, but swelled.
At the start must have been a **** fine time
to be alive,
but there then is the here now.
Nostalgia proud.
Feasting on the delicacy from
a moment of childhood blur.

The rapture is not waiting for you, nor me.
The rest of them neither, just entropy and ether.
A dalliance, daily fawning.
Morning stretches and yawning,
two moments of apex excess.
Then the dusk rusts the sky,
belts tightened 'round younger necks.
Begging to be bled instead of sexed.

Every margin scrawled with the cat-calls of handsomer men.
Opinions stolen from anonymous ponderings of "Remember when?"

The fates would have us conclude, due to their rules.
That taut strings fraught with change are messy wirings.
But if a slant rhyme can still give your skin ******,
Then perfection for its own sake should be dismissed.
****** violence and our place in history as forever ghosts
Aa Harvey May 2018

The sands of time, the consistent line;
The fervent cause, takes with it each life.
The deaf, the dumb and the blind;
The man, the woman and the child.

No rest for death or for birth on this Earth.
No end in sight, no end of time.
This is the beginning of a whole new life;
This is the constant ending of a piece of mankind.

Until death do us part, our life on the line;
Our destiny is out of sight.
The one, forever, changing, consistency;
The timeline of life; no hands on time.

No clock to keep us in control;
No deadline, no lifeline, just death, life and my time.
A speck of light that may never be seen;
A visionaries ideological dream.
A figment of your imagination…
Or a glimpse of a universe that is forever in creation.

(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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