#tempus
Reversed hours
stand there,
deep in thought
still unsure
which way to go
to count the earthly
pulsing heartbeat
or the luminous, vivid
cosmic flares
maybe they will spin
down into a black hole
or perhaps
they will become still,
freezing
in the silent event horizon
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 6:38 PM UTC
So many years
Feeling bad about myself
Berating my being
For being
Fundamentally flawed
Fragmented
Irreparable
I wish someone had noticed
Me
Pulling the hair off of my head
Me
Flailing about
Like a trout
Out of water
Me
Stepping on
All of the rakes
Unintentionally
But also
Sometimes
Fully aware
Of where
They were lurking in the grass
And I wish they’d said
To me
Stop
Stop
Stop.
Breathe.
Look around.
You’re ok.
You’re ok.
You’re beautiful
And young
And you couldn’t possibly know
How quickly time runs away.
So stop.
Stop saying
What’s wrong with me?!
You can stop
Because I’m here
To tell you.
What is wrong
With you
Is
That life
Fooled you
Into thinking
That there’s something wrong
With you.
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 9:24 PM UTC
(whose video powerfully, profoundly, and
positively affected this southeastern residing
Pennsylvania papa)!
Afflicted with Cystic Fibrosis since her birth
contagious exuberance, gung-ho,
infectious jubilance noah dearth
which eye opening (then tearing)
podcast link sent tummy
FaceBook account,
she distilled and
didst poignantly blog the
purpose driven life,
no matter...hmm...
her existential time
nearing thee finis
line on planet Earth
though upworthy defying
deathly clasp of grim reaper,
who scythe lent
lee doth await
she (titled lass of poem) established
a substantial supportive network,
via such an up
beat aura, charisma,
persona, et cetera create
ting global bond sans,
world wide web, aye equate
chance lucky opportunity
to witness airily especial
and gutsy acceptance
of her (congenital) grim fate
while this healthy
(as an oxymoron) lix
spit tilling chap doth hate
sweaty palms (a minor,
though tolerable inconvenience)
versus being irate
at an accursed disease
still no cure as of late,
yet...state of
the art revolutionary treatments
provide longevity, and... YES
possibility to discover a mate
though consigning severe limitations
but...WOW, that girl (unknown
til yesterday) doth narrate
positivity, which amazing
will power didst permeate,
within thine noggin
triggering sincere flowing tears
bursting forth at an unstoppable rate
hence this attempted rye
ming livingsocial tribute
to go for broke
esprit de corps elan trait
completing a bucket list
while eternal sleep will wait!
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 3:58 PM UTC
There once was a God
His name was Tempus
He controlled all time
But he had just one sorrow
While he could make time move however he wanted,
He himself had no concept of time.
He did not know what he was creating,
How it was created,
Or what it could do.
So there he sat,
Floating in space,
Wondering to himself,
"What am I doing here?"
"Why do I exist?"
So, they say,
Tempus is still in space
Creating time, floating around
With no limit, no bound.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 10:42 PM UTC