#timepiece
It’s a coloured and shaded broad daylight.
Bring me my hourglass, my paintbrush.
Keeping a timepiece, how soon my brush
strokes become finer it is not the task.
Try once more, strike a fine chord in time,
ever ticking but doesn't make a sound!
Let’s read the small prints, the shadow lines
on the pitch of the slit sun shines!
A dark spot in the light, some dotted lines
on a blank paper, however witty you might
describe it, count on the tweeting birds
short and cute, singing in the open air.
Light and dark the two tallies, ins and outs.
The times come and go, flowing fine.
For now, let’s take a look inside.
Tint and shade nor tone them now.
Zoom in and out, just watch them as they are.
This cool sleek shade on the sunny slate
is it a shadow, or some quivering curly hairs
or are these reflections of flocking clouds,
diligent sea eyeing deep down on the ground?
Read the small prints, shadows in the daylight,
before the show is wrapped up.
And down the evening pool, the sun
parts away with the black swan.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
I never go to weddings
I'd usually end up using my magic girl power
Chasing the boy
Who asked me to catch him
And here's the catch;
"If you can."
I never go to weddings
I'd usually end up sulking away
Ignoring my frenemies
As I scorned at grown men
Leaning against the bar
Obviously wondering why,
Why,
I am not having any fun.
I never go to weddings
I'd usually end up sneaking out
With the guy I've been exchanging stares at
We'd talk all night
I looked forward to weddings, though,
I never go to weddings.
My habits didn't change
Once we snuck out to the nearby pool
Took off all our clothes
And I was photographed, stark naked,
Amidst the chlorinated stupidity
I never go to weddings
They're too uptight
I held up a glass of champagne and yelled,
"And ***** you!" to the man with a blue portrait
Of me in his wallet
As he kissed his bride for the third time
I never go to weddings
I'd usually end up being a bridesmaid
Wearing a ridiculous outfit
Smiling through the pain of my own singularity
And realising that no one really celebrates the couple for them
We are selfish
I never go to weddings . . .
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
It’s an illusion that hours of the day speed up as we get older. A classic misdirection, a slight of hand on the face of a clock if you will.
The pace of time will never change. But it’s our sense of urgency of how much time we have remaining on this serendipitous wheel of fortune, that father time has spun, that has us reeling...
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC