"fugit" poems
Where goes the time when it flies?
Simplified by expression, and stained by clarity.
Smudge by lucidity
smeared by simplicity
tainted by intelligibility.
Tempus fugit as in time flies.
Sharply distressing with painful feelings
to the point of mental instability
morning or night
we become possessed with its mystic dealings.
Where goes the time when it runs?
Not a solitary explanation is found.
It happens and it won’t stop
until life terminates as well
without cause.
Derived of rationalisation
lacking understanding
short of justification
bursting with vindication
persistently and with conviction.
Where goes the time when it sails?
From the second that we’re born.
Where were we existing?
We cannot be so sure
Cannot recollect the past
Not for the first five of our years
Memory so blur, so shadowy
Hazy with distortions
obscure and confusing
Unit our mind starts slowly to recollect.
Where goes the time when it escapes?
The chronology of life so mysterious.
Nothing can solve its ambiguity
for time is a complex case
with an infinity of secrets.
What’s the obsession when we have so many setbacks
drawbacks and obstacles
obstructions and conundrums
to take care of before time perishes away
and leaves us stranded in oblivion.
Oh time, you magnificent of all mysteries,
the high and mighty of ambiguities.
Show us mercy and explain
we are not detectives of secrecies
your spell with us reflects on the whodunits.
Oh time of things past and yet to come
give us a clue as to what is to derive!
“Remember”
it softly replies “Make most of your lives”
“Once I fly away no one can have a replay”.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 6:11 AM UTC
Lovely Spring,
A brief sweet thing,
Is swift on the wing;
Gracious Summer,
A slow sweet comer,
Hastens past;
Autumn while sweet
Is all incomplete
With a moaning blast,--
Nothing can last,
Can be cleaved unto,
Can be dwelt upon;
It is hurried through,
It is come and gone,
Undone it cannot be done,
It is ever to do,
Ever old, ever new,
Ever waxing old
And lapsing to Winter cold.
3.4k
Gluteus Maximus
That Gladiator of Rome
Got into such a rage
That his mouth did foam,
He cursed and snarled
And snarled and cursed,
Yet things didn’t improve
They got much worse;
His fists beat the ground
And he spat into the air,
No one dare come close
When his temper did flare.
Furiously struggling
To undo a knot so big
It wasn’t his strong point,
He couldn’t give a fig!
Unable to get to grips
With his **** leather laces
Those sandals caused such scowls
And grotesque grimaces...
So, aren’t you grateful
That he isn’t alive today?
That bad tempered warrior
Your life he would slay
Just with one of his black looks
Or a growl at your face,
You’d probably explode
With only a trace
Of smoke and shoes
Left where you did stand,
Nothing but grey ashes
On the Coliseum’s red sand!
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 1:42 AM UTC
Waves unfurled like the backs of whales
Rolling in a tempestuous sea
With cresting foam like the heads of sails
Straining to break away free
The clouds bow down to touch the waves
The waves ****** high above
The wind whips up a howling dance
As sea and sky make love
Cori MacNaughton
25Mar2000
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
Tempus Fugit:
Nought is eternal,
Nox is ephemeral,
And
The Charred Canvas
Of
The Night Sky
(Noctis Lucis Caelum,
Scala Ad Caelum)
Bedarkened & besmirched, bespeaks
A
Love-Worn Wayward, Wayworn.
In the
Citadel
Of mine
Temporal Heart
Time
Streams infinitely
As an
Exhalation of The Ethereal One.
The Chronology of
The Arbiter of Fates
Shalt Destine,
Herald Eternitas
Upon
The Phantasmagoric Horizon
Of
Mine Mind's Sky
Wondering
Upon
Days of Yore.
(The Hither,
The Thither,
And
The Morrow.)
These
Luminescent Children are
Are born
To wax Luminaries
Then,
Wax Nebulous
For all eternity.
O, Metempsychosis;
Born of
Edicts Unseen,
Of that
Which was,
Is,
&
Will Be.
(For
All things
Are
Circular & Cycling,
Existentially.)
We were conceived
Infinitely
To
Infinity
And beyond.
Let He, Let She
Whose
Ears & Eyes
Of
The Unuttered Anima
Be unstopped, unfurled
To resonations:
Deep within.
The Emerald Lifestream Anew
Dost begin.
The Sovereign of Songbirds sings
Esprit d' amour
To those who wait.
(Se' Lah.)
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
Cain slew Abel –
Thus began the parade of
Characters whose dynasties
We remember, who decorate
Our memories.
Abraham –
He gave us all the stars
In the sky, a greater lineage
Than the grains of sand
Slapped by seas.
Moses –
The babe in the bulrushes,
The prince turned traitor
Whose whiplashed back
Parted the Red Sea.
Tempus fugit –
Geo Washington, Thos
Jefferson, Alex Hamilton –
Madison, Adams, Franklin –
Minds who created, who
Dreamed, who begat.
How many names we find
In those first tumultuous
Years – warfare and love,
Duels and decadence,
Politics and party.
Scant years later, across
The pond – revolution is
Catching on – les français
Waged a ****** scene,
Ousting the régime.
What would become a
Baby democracy – birthed
More than one new flag
And song – yet lived to
Fight again and bleed.
History is ours to hear –
We respect the honorable,
Honor the drama, revere
The prudent and refight
The battles.
The District of Columbia
Paints a new canvas – she
Sings off key, her promises
Begging for whitewash, her
Patrons vice and folly.
What offspring will such as
These sire? Are they fathers
To found a new nation – to
Garner worldwide pride, or
To slay the abled?
Let the wings of victory
Carry us back to the days
Of greatness – let us exceed
In probity and virtue – let
Freedom succeed again.
© Lewis Bosworth, 3-2017
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 11:36 PM UTC
Time slips by me, wearing a disguise
I don't notice him stuffing my youth into a pocket as he passes.
Time slips by me and covers my eyes with magical glasses
So I don't notice the lines arriving on my face,
only
on the faces of others.
Time slips by and takes with it my friends' children, suddenly tall
Suddenly adult, suddenly married with children of their own.
Time slips and the hours turn to days turn to weeks turn into months and it is
suddenly
eight months since I touched you, since I kissed you, since we said goodbye.
Time went past and suddenly I am old,
Peering into misty autumn days, worrying about pensions and arthritis.
Time and tide wait for no one and the truth is that there has only ever been this moment... this now...
That even as I grasp hold of it, time snatched back into the past.
Remember when your grandmother told you time flies...tempus fugit... yesterday?
Time flies, it was forty, no forty-five years ago and
seven
seemed like an age to aspire to.
Living in the moment as we all have to do has dragged you to this place, and whether all your moments spill out of time's pocket at the moment of your death and parade past you in their toe-curling glory, or whether they simply fade into the winds of eternity at your passing...
remember to live before you die, experience the moments that you have to come and
breathe
in the pleasure of living.
Tomorrow and tomorrow are unravelling from the tapestry of time,
all you can do as they pass you by and ****** your moments away is to be alert to their passing and
kiss
the ones you love.
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 7:15 AM UTC
ghostly beings in ghost-town streets
tourists dressed in night-gown sheets
empty shelves; empty shopper
tempus fugit; clockstopper
november fog; chilly bones
midnight leaves me so alone
i can't feel your warmth right now
can't see you in torchlight now
no miracles, no visions
no stars for me to wish on
just us and the freezing air
just you captured in their snare
just me and my own shortfall
a ghost who loves a mortal
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
Not like this.
the path you stumbled for,
left you for some footsteps of a goddess
that we never were sure of her existence.
He left you on the road
oh, beautiful landscape of all
such green trees, such brown leaves.
Do you wonder how I wonder?
wanderlust, collecting dust
of the wasted decades we had
of an item we never truly got to reckon it's form
I do not believe in time
it does not exist
break all hour glasses done.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC
The cold dash in October
could break your ankle,
on some twig strewn iced river,
gusted by this uneasy Bravado.
And through this
we form a common bond
the strewn and promiser will led their merry dance.
It is better to shut your eyes and see again
and undream.
So rollick in the dew,
the resplendent Samphires will regrow.
For were we not pre destined
to edge towards the tidal marshes
and with dugout boats
voyage through the satisfied.
Tempus fugit awaits
to enrapture our intricacies.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Fugit Fumus dived into a basket
of oysters just to make the ***
the underbelly of transformation
bodes unwise for this colloquial soul
Cloistered Lisa lost her circumspection
when she settled for dystopic Dan
from such a wretched family
with pneumatic drills
they'd rather shutter than amend
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
The Cossack waves came pounding in,
Turquoise horses with silver manes;
Each one charged in their line to win,
The sand interred their cold remains;
The subtle evening stole away
The late possessions of the sun
Until the jasmine’s lush bouquet
Snuffed his light and left him none;
The summer seemed so sure and strong,
Foundations poured with molten steel
That set the blue so high so long
We felt secure in our Bastille.
Each wave, each day, each season comes,
And all of them seem strong, alone,
But every single one succumbs;
Beneath each lovely face, the bone.
Every day, each moment, brings
The changes we might curse or bless,
But all the while the heart-beat sings:
“One less, one less, one less, one less.”
Apr 2, 2010
Apr 2, 2010 at 6:00 PM UTC
Wet gusts burn my flesh
Tasting brine, I tack the deep
Heeling through the gale
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 12:47 PM UTC
I I I I was immersed into Maria's mystic Veil
A relieving elegant relish of Rilke's mystic mist
Husked my binary perception as an Earthquake
Easily brimms off the mountainpeak white frozen blanket
And helps Angels to swoon for a magnificent time lapse speed-->
Up ornaments stiched with The Divine craft and Love on a
Flying carpet infatuated and melting from Sun's Immense impact
When making love twice a day, Lovingly fulfilled with an
Intimate bluhing beauty of dancing Clouds de Dawn trying to kiss
Dusk Cloudy deliverance. Resolve probably lied in many times
Read fluttering pages gazing Smiling Buddha who Knows of blissfi pi Lyrical Mandolin Elegies Obsessed With Seeking Answers By
Pressing against Many Hearts Foolishly Misinterpreted
Pointless Colouring As An Act Of Reciprocal Love To Central Black Portals Seeing Thee Gazed Into Intricate Reminiscing
Me of Tempus Fugit Fragile Sudden Sadness Easily Evoken By You
:::::
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
Time sprouted wings.
It flew away again.
Faster than Concorde on a dash, very noisily, one quick breath,it's gone in a flash.
As indeed is life.
If you snatched it again, would you have the same wife?
Or husband perse.
Wish that it could be turned back, maybe so life could be reviewed?
Same old mistakes made again?
Who ever knows.
If we had our time again, would we want to change a thing?
(C) LIVVI 2014
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 2:10 AM UTC
Tempus fugit!
I say **** it.
Carpe momentum.
Carpe diem.
Carpe sabbati.
Carpe vita.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
One moment
cancels out another
signifying a loss
something that's past
could never return
the next kiss or embrace
is not the same
each a form
an inscription
a touch-on
like none other
once having emerged
disappears into nowhere
irreversibility is the unchanging theme
of time--
each tide carries
the water forward
leaving the rest behind
a gust of wind
sweeps across
insubstantial, lost
irrecoverable
in empty space
leaving no trace
nothing does
itself repeat
replication
and recurrence
would never be wrought--
ah, my dearest and most-loved
it's the moment now
to which we are together bound
as a word
is said
as our eyes
exchange
a message
as our heart
is locked
in secure passage
we'll not be left in doubt-
as the moanful nocturne
reaches out
and its last notes fade
and sink* away
in the night's whereabout
we will know
for sure
the telling is over
the curtain has fallen
a new chapter
must follow--
if this brittle transiency
you understand
as you hold my hand
it would be bliss enough
as in silence we remain
unfazed, unmoved, unruffled
mindless of what's to come
in the sureness of our faith
that would withstand and defy
any awaiting future outcome--
courage would be ours then
to reign in and reap for keeps
whereupon our long-cherished dream
would have crystallised and bloomed
a bright light would be beckoning from afar
amidst the gloom of the shivering night
we, though weary, would have arrived safely
after the long-tested travail and trial
Via Dolorosa would its farewell have bidden
all that our heart has longed and searched for
would at last have found its unmistakable haven.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:51 AM UTC
‘How quaint,’ remarked Mistress Hora as she turned the afternoon on its head, ‘that you would consider time to be a linear construct.’
‘Positively post-historic,’ agreed Master O’Clock, nodding his head in perfect synchrony with the orchestra that played inside his ear. Today was Waltzday (or so he had named it), an interminable reminder that atomic metronomes particularly those of Viennese manufacture were not to be trifled with.
‘Be assured, my dears, that this fancy is a passing one and exists only as a fleeting extemporaneous distraction,’ our Mistress continued. The first year students breathed a collective sigh of relief. ‘Now, I want no clumping, no running ahead, and NO helical improvisation. When yesterday’s fish and chips come wrapped in tomorrow’s newspaper it gives our school a most unfortunate reputation.’ The class chortled as one. ‘Most importantly, please remember to take your pocket guide.’
I reached for my bedraggled copy of _The Theory of Chronometrical Fluidity: Compressed Edition_ and wrung the pages out. I had failed badly at applied clepsydrics and my cousin Widget wasn’t letting me forget it. From behind the glass, I spotted her playing a furtive game of Gregorian and by the look on her face February was winning. I blew her a lemniscate to grab her attention. She scowled, looked up from her losing streak and giggled when she saw me spiralling in her direction. ‘Good luck,’ she spiralled back.
Miss Hora flexed her wrist and glanced at her temporal transponder. ‘You will be marked on cuneiformity, consistency, and rate of continuance. Now be off with you. Tempus fugit!’ With a flick of her bejangled fingers she opened the S.A.N.D. grates. I held my breath and jumped.
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 5:03 PM UTC
Do we really ever slow the soul enough to make
any difference?
Stress-filled moments rushing-on the river of life,
And we are drowning, choking on insignificance
As we grab for more, feet kick hard, sink us low
in mire of strife.
Our latest moment grieved, the new already gone,
And we recoil from the future we must surely meet
in the present
As cruel apprehension rolls dark over face of the
sun
To summon defeat of another life in relentless
Time's engagement.
Born outside the doors of fair Eden, uncreated,
Tick of the Clock but marks the absence of eternity ~
Hole blown in the heart of God ~ time was never
intended,
And now we die so soon as we are born of spirit-
enfleshed infirmity.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
early this year
gentle as calm ocean waters
lapping along a weir
thumb and fore finger
of right hand would peal back,
(via diagonally flippant motion
asper calendar
representing progression of time)
gets flipped over to veer
in one direction (linear)
revealing the next month at lightspeed
vis a vis tempus fugit galloping tear
thy head immediately lost hirsute thickness,
i starkly share
male or female pattern baldness
extant along
Harris genealogical trunk line rare
yet divulging distress
about limp decreasing strands
sends shivers along spine,
gloomy feeling linkedin
with old fashioned meaning of queer
and perchance tis foolhardy
reeding this Samson night issue must ap pear
tis unstoppable inching closer toward
as mortality gets near
youthful robustness fades
replaced by senescence mere
really ambling along tragicomic stream,
one evinces gargoyles mockingly leer
loosing sleep and kept raggedly awake
in conjunction dreams fraught
with frightful haunting monsters jeer
ring sound reverberating hair
splitting decibel jamming primary cranial gear
aye tell mice elf nothing to fear...
yet maximizing this plight with poem 'ere
Yukon also temporarily part
blond, brown, gold, et cetera locks mud dear.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 11:48 PM UTC
Winter’s early months,
Carries a solemn sound,
Paired bitter fragrance,
Filled the vacant soul,
Think soley of biting frosts.
Winter’s middle months,
Assemble a bird’s tune,
Matching candied scents,
Known of lining mind,
Broods of woeful age.
Winter’s late months,
Carts a vivid air,
Coupled **** savored,
Divines the untold echo,
Fashions a taper edge.
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 9:32 PM UTC
Yes, once it was red and full of hope
now it is black and full of destruction
beating slow now and immersed in discontented grey hate
this child of christ now steps out of the light of honour
for on his lips is the blood of the last dark trinity
with the cold hopes of lost designations of god hood
No more will the lies of ancient Universal Texts hold manner
for the broken hearted toy of summer dreams unrequited
rolls forth the carpet of time and opens the door to the last war
then dies again and again and again in ****** communion of lost causes
and surely no one could should weep for a child of war
as they leave earth's realm to live in battle for ever more
Tempus fugit and it played havoc on aged mercury
so now he takes flight with stained ragged wings
folds the last of lost space with dinner plates whist angles sing
then they look down and tears of sorrows they bring
like splintered rainbows given in lies for everyone's sins
there is no glory in lost hope and all that it brings
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
-Sitting in empty places
Tempus fugit ad infinitum
Galactic seas beaming on starlight yet seem empty
Everything seems empty
Inwardly directed infinitely
Empty space is-
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 2:15 PM UTC