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Man Jul 2023
A bad day away
From the end of things,
Cause not a person stays.

And everything remains the same,

Despite all the change.

An hour to twelve,
When the clock strikes.
I burn one down.

And the match reminds me of hell;

Of dark depths, lit by scorching light.

Most deepest of desires, and precious hopes
We are fond of holding you close,
Fearful we will share our thoughts

And be lost to ourselves

To understand, what we know we never can
Jan Nov 2021
I Remember, I was twelve.
It was the first time I stayed up the whole night.
Not because I could but because my friend said I couldn't.
Curled with a book, stifling yawn after yawn.
I watched the sun rise
So elated. So naive.
Afterall who'd willingly pass up on sleep if not a child.

I remember I was twelve
Escaping clutches of sweet sleep.
Six years later I lay in bed,
Struggling to call the sleep I pushed away.
Staring aimlessly, frustrated,
screaming into a pillow, clutching it tightly.
6:40am IST
My eyes sting and relentless tears stream from them falling like caresses on my cheek.
I twist, I turn.
I try and try some more,
Then slowly succumb to boredom,
Seeking the sleep I hid from.
I m not sure if this is a poem.
Man Mar 2021
and i fear when seasons
and anything in particular
changes
its rooted far from rational explanation
reason removed, because i know
change is good
and those things that come with it
i know, i know
twelve thousand fold
for how long have i been told
fearing of change
is folly
when life is change
odd and strange
as paintings by dali
annh Oct 2020
ᗩ ᗷᑌTTEᖇᖴIᑎGEᖇEᗪ ᖴEᒪᒪOᗯᔕᕼIᑭ Oᖴ TᗯEᒪᐯE
ᑭᒪᗩYIᑎG ᑕᗩTᑕᕼ ᗯITᕼ ᗰY ᑕOᑎᔕᑕIOᑌᔕᑎEᔕᔕ.
'When all the archetypes burst out shamelessly, we plumb Homeric profundity. Two clichés make us laugh but a hundred clichés move us because we sense dimly that the clichés are talking among themselves, celebrating a reunion.'
- Umberto Eco, Travels in Hyperreality
Poetic T Apr 2020
We show the fatigue of Twelve hours
       of duty, to care for those that
Cant even breath without our care..

When we leave those that we wish
could survive till our next shift.

We go to grocery stores to find
             our next meal,
but shelfs stripped clean...

By those who don't need,
but horde more than there need,
                          for either greed or profit.
                                                      We weep,
for we are holding our hands out like Oliver!!

        Sir, Madam do you have anymore,
As we weep with empty stomachs..
      making do with the scraps left behind..

            "Sorry not till our next delivery,

                             But ill be at work then..
A tear drops lonely down a cheek.  

             Yes I've seen eBay, or online selling sites...

They make me sick to my heart,
        to think I may have to save these gluttons
on an empty stomach.

But I don't judge
              I just drop a tear for those I lost the
night before.

I tried,
               they tried
              but this venom, sinks in fast..

I wear the scars on my face, the masks digging in,
                   the cracked skin that I don't have time
to moisturise as I know its been a twelve hour shift.

                                                       I only sleep a few,
     my moments of peace and tranquillity woken
early...
        My beeper goes off, were on call..

At least I got more than most,
           I give myself a two minute stretch,
  
and a wake up call, then I'm in fresh gear,
          sanitise my hands, and put gloves on.

I'm fearful of this virus, as many have fell like
warriors on the battle field, now breathing through
                                masks of life and death.

But my vow of care is strong and I shake off
              this fear, and walk into the ward a warrior
of positively.

"I will care for the fallen,
           I will hold a fearful hand,

never will I let anyone go.

But I'm only one in a sea of many.

If I can keep on breathing till they have strength

             its a win..
Colm Sep 2019
We love the sea
For her deep impartial parts
Which demand respect and remember fear
Waving Waters - An honest series

Just one of many loves
Colm Sep 2019
We love the heart
For how it beats aloud
For none to see and only one to hear
Pounding Heart - An honest series

From the twelve loves
Colm Sep 2019
We love the rain
We love the night
We love the heart
We love the sea

We love the snow
We love the sun
We love the quiet
We love the trees

We love the dawn
We love the song
We love the sands
We love the birds

We love the warmth
We love the cold
We love the girl
We love the earth

How we love and love
And for a short while, our world
This is the shortened version of the twelve earthly, distractive, loves.

Each one gets its own individual poem, two of which are available right now.

Just taking my time and enjoying each one.
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