"edax" poems - Hello Poetry

Time is just a concept, a moment with a name. Something in-which can never be evaded. A freedom, lost in the concept, bound to a ticking clock. We want to forget. Just for now. Begone. in our swirling vortex. Take me back to the day, that moment with a name. A time: where I was meant to be. My thoughts clouded with sage. A haze pushing me side-ways. My black memory's. Time is just a concept, in-which we can never repair. No going back-ways, all will have to remain. No-one to blame, the fates will withhold. And nothing will ever be foretold...

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Jan 10, 2014

Jan 10, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC

Nickel

Tempus edax rerum. (Time, devourer all things.)

Time is just a concept, a moment with a name. Something in-which can never be evaded. A freedom, lost in the concept, bound to a ticking clock. We want to forget. Just for now. Begone. in our swirling vortex. Take me back to the day, that moment with a name. A time: where I was meant to be. My thoughts clouded with sage. A haze pushing me side-ways. My black memory's. Time is just a concept, in-which we can never repair. No going back-ways, all will have to remain. No-one to blame, the fates will withhold. And nothing will ever be foretold...

24

I remember how you’d say We should spend time not money But I spent my money on time And not even my gold encrusted piece Could freeze the moment you were mine I can’t tell the difference, Is it my watch ticking, Heart beating or the metronome? Is it the smoke or the pheromones? You can’t remember the moans But you remember how the liquor tricked you, Made her loose Made you lick her And you found the gold mine at the meeting of her thighs, It wasn’t only on her wrist and in her eyes I’m not one to pray But my knees got ****** From worshiping a Sunday kind of love In the name of father time, You - the sun And my holy spirit And I guess it’s true what they say That nothing good happens after 2 AM Then again, there was you And then those 2 PM Monday blues And it’s ironic how time heals all wounds, but no drug, god or serum can save us from tempus edax rerum

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Jun 8, 2017

Jun 8, 2017 at 12:11 PM UTC

kcpoetry

Tempus Edax Rerum

I remember how you’d say We should spend time not money But I spent my money on time And not even my gold encrusted piece Could freeze the moment you were mine I can’t tell the difference, Is it my watch ticking, Heart beating or the metronome? Is it the smoke or the pheromones? You can’t remember the moans But you remember how the liquor tricked you, Made her loose Made you lick her And you found the gold mine at the meeting of her thighs, It wasn’t only on her wrist and in her eyes I’m not one to pray But my knees got ****** From worshiping a Sunday kind of love In the name of father time, You - the sun And my holy spirit And I guess it’s true what they say That nothing good happens after 2 AM Then again, there was you And then those 2 PM Monday blues And it’s ironic how time heals all wounds, but no drug, god or serum can save us from tempus edax rerum

28

I. Aprilis You wished the summer for no one moments of white wilderness stars in the blood sepaled bees scatter drown each day as all lights unmade pollen blossoming among fistfuls of paper tasks busied thought scrolls with the Seen afternoon feathers multiply white honey of Aries II. Julius Months as paper pass flitting through the screens that separate outdoors from in where light pools on an ancient carpet and summer lay broken in pieces on the floor like so much shattered vinyl what happens to the trapped light then, as it ages, it thickens curdles in the stale drapes staunches awareness of time the moon is slowly drifting away from Earth III. Octus Apples fall on the rotten dusty ground we threw them, trapped in the speckled atmosphere of decades that never rinses clean you swore we could see Venus if the clouds would sit right Aphrodite in blue jeans a ladder in darkness is still a ladder IV. Januarius Color dissolves and hibernates underground grey winds stampede through the Roman Year like the ghosts of unchained thoroughbreds all the bees have drowned their honey spread thin across the blackened sky when everything is upside down stars become seeds

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Mar 12, 2010

Mar 12, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC

s-a-knight-1

Tempus Edax Rerum

I. Aprilis You wished the summer for no one moments of white wilderness stars in the blood sepaled bees scatter drown each day as all lights unmade pollen blossoming among fistfuls of paper tasks busied thought scrolls with the Seen afternoon feathers multiply white honey of Aries II. Julius Months as paper pass flitting through the screens that separate outdoors from in where light pools on an ancient carpet and summer lay broken in pieces on the floor like so much shattered vinyl what happens to the trapped light then, as it ages, it thickens curdles in the stale drapes staunches awareness of time the moon is slowly drifting away from Earth III. Octus Apples fall on the rotten dusty ground we threw them, trapped in the speckled atmosphere of decades that never rinses clean you swore we could see Venus if the clouds would sit right Aphrodite in blue jeans a ladder in darkness is still a ladder IV. Januarius Color dissolves and hibernates underground grey winds stampede through the Roman Year like the ghosts of unchained thoroughbreds all the bees have drowned their honey spread thin across the blackened sky when everything is upside down stars become seeds

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