"instants" poems
Calamitous collapse of structure forged
With steel and concrete built for time,
Since Roman times a formula endured
With engineers additional design.
Why, then, did this structure fail,
Did mortar crack, did reinforcing strong,
Shear and plummet in an instants time
To crush and doom this bridges song.
In teeming rain a silence hung
Where watchers gaped in stunned awe,
A magnitude of devastation lay
Pulverized in valley floor.
Astonishing this expanse of space
Where seconds past, huge edifice,
Imbued with its’ charge of lives
Unknowingly to meet abyss.
Innocence has lost its’ life
Blame resounds around the room
Someone shall pay the price
For negligence in causing doom.
Truth be told it’s shared by all
For Italy has lagged behind
Cost cutting infrastructures’ purse
Because of economic bind.
Time to reassess the plan
Time to weep and bury dead,
Clear the rubble from the land
Rebuild well then forge ahead.
Blame not the engineer
Nor the man who drew design,
Blame not the hardhat
Who poured the concrete in the line.
Reassign the budget spend
To infrastructure, pay its share
For sentiment is running hot
To axe the fool who pares the fare.
M.
Storeman
Civil Infrastructure
Hamilton, NEW ZEALAND
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
I say music is my medicine,
But sometimes I get addicted to this Adderall adrenaline,
My mind has gone deeper than the abyss floor,
The irony between good intentions and bad decisions,
Get me out of this mental prison,
I don't want to take orders from a politician,
But if you take a minute to listen,
You'll understand this vision that you're missing.
I bleed ink from these veins like they root through my brain,
A tree of perfect symmetry that I could never tame,
Every branch a connection into a new frame,
Everything is synchronizing like a symphony,
An epiphany, finishing,
She must be the bridge between my Ying and Yang,
Negativity diminishing by positive energy
Reflecting off the sensory,
I stop and don't dismantle this handle of Jack Daniels,
As if it has my questions answered,
And as the sparrow sits upon the branch,
Synapses snap in instants with a plan,
Tracing a line that brings me to the sand,
And the island, the silence,
Sitting softly over the sea's sinus,
Puts me in a content setting, grand,
And when my body corrodes,
If my soul is up for purchase,
I'll remember the day when God and I had conversations in Churches.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
A picture won't do justice,
For beauty is in motion.
Those thousand words are useless.
They don't denote devotion.
My rhymes and schemes may capture
A sliver of a moment,
While blinks of yours enrapture
And hold me without comment.
For words and verse are nothing
Compared to feelings fleet,
And just blinking's what I need
From you to be complete.
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 2:05 AM UTC
A simple bottle,
Cheap chunky plastic,
Designer garbage.
Empty of its liquid energy.
Glossy label parrying the flash,
Glaring retrieval of light.
Sickly bold orange cap,
Impudently tight,
Defending the blanched carpet below.
Moment of fragility,
Suspended on the humid waves of air,
Eternity in an insubstantial moment.
It wafts away from his fingers,
Plastic given wings,
Fixed by his steely eyes,
A forced arc,
Stretching to the ceiling.
Focused intensity.
An infinite gap looms
Instants before the catch.
He didn’t notice the stray,
A camera pointed his way,
Capturing this moment,
Making it magical.
Clarity is threatened by obscurity,
People pressing in,
Bending the frame.
Time is lost,
Too much wasted on boredom,
And playing catch with yourself.
Spine lax, body slumped.
Interruptions and distractions surround.
His face vivid in the mix,
Lost in the wash of faces,
So much like his,
Flushed by the same blood.
His unwavering gaze
Holds the emptiness in shackles.
Second of silence in the crushing sound,
Relentless muttering rumble,
The voices of family,
So constantly buzzing.
Jumbled tumbling voices.
A peanut gallery seeking constant attention.
The camera congeals the moment,
Silencing the mass.
In the absence the bottle and the boy
Infinitely alone,
Endlessly still.
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 10:33 PM UTC
Thought of all those stones hitting my window
The crush lover is like a austere sword
Marble frames
Blue veins
Ducheess ice skies
Pure white sheets
Padded look
Wavy gold hair
Lighthouse freckles reflections
The spellcaster in her room
Gentle sender
Captivating eyes
Creator of edens
She prepares her cotton spell
Si tele swee
lk pa ts
thy
Mi dia du
lk mond st
Thought of all those instants gemstones pictures
- Codelandandmore //23:50 PM ©
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
On moon-damp sheets, you slowly open my violet fig, passing halves tongue to tongue,
its seed-pearls, captive minutes embraced by our soft lips,
each velvet pulse a swallowed clock tick, unthreading the night’s camisole—unstrung
Our minutes take root inside our souls, night’s vines in green hour’s gentle grip,
soft pods burst open, figs too ripe to cradle our desires,
their wet seeds, exploring, ticking onward—dreaming of a solar eclipse
Dawn’s pallid hand already tests the window, sprouting its cruel thorns and briars,
we stack our stolen seconds like leaves against the latch, a barricade of lost cries,
yet every green minute bleeds to gold, slipping through fingers, we tire—
Seconds steep in our bellies like sour home-brewed wine highs,
bubbles of yesterday escape—tiny pale moons clinging to folds and hips,
drunk on recycled time, we speak only in overlapping echoes of whys?
One corner of the mattress folds like a calendar page—blank, stripped,
our shadows lengthen backward, seeking last night’s candlelight,
Dawn’s fiery glow becomes a vortex of memory and lust—we slip, hip to hip
A seed-shaped cog spills within; its milk is bitter sun, not honeyed night,
the soft ticking falters—our wetness rusts the teeth of fragile gears,
we press our palms to the fracture, bluffing the hunger of day’s appetite.
All swallowed instants germinate in rapture; green shoots flare wild from every tear,
morning slips through the leaf-lattice, feral, unstoppable—death,
the room sighs oxygen unearned; we wake leaf-littered, dewed, a frontier unclear
One last seed, caged behind the sternum, ticks backwards, waiting for breath,
it counts in reverse, each tick a small fist begging still to be loved,
we do not let it out; we cradle the echo, its name?
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 2:45 PM UTC
Above all reigns Zambi Kumbo.
Father of men, father of things, father of insects.
The non-created, the beginning, void of a beginning,
of all and any beginning.
The sacred is present in all instants and all instances.
All life is sacred and in it’s core are human beings.
The whole is anthropocentric and critical: human beings,
man, center of creation, spins the axis of good and evil.
I believe in the visible and the invisible,
in the interaction between these two worlds.
The natural and the supernatural are inseparable.
There are other realities beyond the visible, man is not purely flesh,
there is spirit and heart and values beyond our eyes.
I summon the sun by tangu, which means time, present time,
time instance, favorable time, precise time.
To ask for the time, one should voice “what sun is it?"
The sun drifts on the ocean between life and death.
When the sun disappears in the horizon
it is a canoe carrying souls to the afterlife.
I sit on an ivory chair and wear bracelets of ivory and iron,
artistic woven fabric, certain hides set aside only for me,
an embroidered cap on my head, and a zebra tail on my shoulder.
Kneel, chuck dust above your head, and beg for my blessing.
I’ll stretch out my hands and wriggle my fingers to bless you.
I am Nagô-Yoruba! I am Okanran kandi abo!
Son of Xangô, son of Ketú, son of Egba.
E-e-e-o eya-o Great Mother, y-aa-o Black Beauty, womb of the wind,
creator of the wind that tangles the wild bush,
creator of the wind that tangles the fields,
creator of the thoughts in my head.
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
306
The Soul’s Superior instants
Occur to Her—alone—
When friend—and Earth’s occasion
Have infinite withdrawn—
Or She—Herself—ascended
To too remote a Height
For lower Recognition
Than Her Omnipotent—
This Mortal Abolition
Is seldom—but as fair
As Apparition—subject
To Autocratic Air—
Eternity’s disclosure
To favorites—a few—
Of the Colossal substance
Of Immortality
2.2k
Look out,
across time, go
windborn in our mind being,
look out,
into the depths of ever being,
rethink the processes time used,
reimagine the silence at the moment.
All for us to have our own being in,
confined in common sense of the we
the one we of us since ever was a time,
before now, and later, still,
this same concurrency of events…
our crossing point in time.
Instants of peaceable knowing, growing
into states of conscious knowing use.
Feb 12, 2024
Feb 12, 2024 at 2:48 PM UTC
Reflection
will distort this moment—
(an oasis
in the desert of memory)
the simple
wonder of the instant diminished
as gemstones
depreciated by display upon
a gold band.
Focus fades
in inching instants
(a shutter
slowly closing over a lens)
and we
imperceptibly surrender
clarity
to these evanescing essences of
youth and reminiscence.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
Kiss me.
You are my woman.
Fearless, **** ruled by Saturn.
My muse.
Fiery and timorous.
Hair of a lion, lips that sooth my body and soul.
Natural, scorching beauty and a mind like a whip.
A goddess to be touched with the love.
Love from thy fingertips encompassing every inch.
A body of beauty to gaze and ravish.
A mind of beauty to watch and devour.
Mine for always.
Kiss me.
I am your woman.
Untamed, nurturing, ruled by the moon.
Behaving in balance with stellar pulls.
Hips for bearing, ******* for worshipping.
Internal beams only you can see; smiles gleamed in the moment.
Listen to my soul and touch my heart.
Yours for always.
Kiss me.
Let our tongues wander the inner walls of our mouths.
Kiss me where our secrets and anecdotes lie.
Mouths straying from lips to necks,
Necks to *******
******* to what lies between the thighs.
Moistness and anticipation building between the ears and legs.
Unyielding instants of uninhibited eye contact.
Rapture. Pain. Relief.
Everything rises to the surface.
Ours for always.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
Where do the soap suds go
when they're washed down the drain?
Do they take the dirt and salty sweat
down to the sewers, where they won't be missed?
Once part of me, my veins and tear ducts,
there came a time for us to part, my dirt and I,
so the lathery angels kissed my ***** skin
and purified in instants a sad story of filth.
They wash away in streams of white-
ashes from car exhaust and cigarette butts,
and lines of black, like lung cancer and smeared makeup
and runny lines penned by an unclean hand.
I wonder, where do the soap suds go?
Do they toss my sins to the sea to be sunk
and forsaken, like how they came to cling to me?
Am I truly clean, or must the soap suds scrub my soul?
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
Before I die, yes I know, I'm only 15,
But before I die
I want to live as no one has lived ever before
Smell the most gorgeous aroma
Feel the softest object, pet the gentlest lamb
Play and wrestle with a cub, be it lion, tiger, or bear
Go for a long long walk in the woods with one friend
And sit together talking and capturing instants on paper
I want to learn four languages, or five, or six
Spend one entire weeked in bed, catching up on books
Read the most glorious poem and hear the sweetest song
Fully enjoy my career and learn enough about bones
Be able to know when someone is lying and
To die, really really happy.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:52 PM UTC
Lady,
lady,
lady,
It made no sense then
and still I'm at a lack.
Those days I'd read and fall asleep,
take the cheap warmth of the sun on my cheeks
(and literacy) for granted, then
wake to a sunburn on my back.
Aloe evenings, peeling loose skin
revealing goose-flesh, feeling foolish
again, by my garden
on my deck
off my guard
and lonely.
Heck, this is only one instance where I had chills that summer
Another was under the orange glow of a poorly funded lighthouse,
Us there - just sitting - perched
on my car, parked
on
a
slope
West River lay ahead and below -
Behind were the kinds of smiles and glances
people give before they know
each other and the chances
of where they both may go
So,
I took my time
not giving a ****
despite the dame's insistence
on a kiss the tourists planned -
Too many instants
spent looking, fearing leaping
peering,
keeping
distance
sparse.
Alas, a tour de farce?
Thanks to pop-rocks when our lips touched
we chuckled at the sparks
Lip gloss
Then my loss of control
Utterly unable to console
Is it any wonder the cunning fox we saw just wandered home?
With this rhetoric I am ready to admit that
I lack(ed) certainty
Was the mist real or is't only foggy in my memory?
In hindsight I do mind causing pain
Though my brain,
it sure likes hurting me
And lo,
À l'acadie we go
...for academia!
My ego can't stand seein' ya
so the strained "Hello" is ignored -
Please impale it on the sword
of vanity and estrangement!
As I sway toward derangement
or insanity, I lurch forward
lacksidaisically
Need to learn to curb these feelings
to watch out for those of others
As the sun or lighthouse over us
this message resolutely hovers:
I hurt
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
not every poem is about beauty
too caught we are in the moment to write about it
that is what makes it beautiful
pain clings long beyond instants
prolongs and window reflections
engulfing our bones
masticating our stomachs
from slow drip bile coffeemakers in our chest
the line from that one song starts the burning
and the eyes of a stranger flavored with reminders
i wish i could tell him i finally got to ____________
my blood is chunked with tomato slices
acidic clots and stagnant passions
float me in melancholy perplexities
a minute of oddity where emotions
are unidentifiable
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
You make me shake my bones like a magnitude 7 Richter scale earthquake.
I shiver as you touch my skin with your soft but wise fingers.
Your voice is like harmony to my ears, as my body follows your tune.
My mind goes in tune with yours.
My hairs sets on your face as I lay down next to you. It tickles you.
I start do dare you. I'm daring you to make us work. To make us happy.
You start smiling as you grab my hand and you join them as one.
You said you want to touch my soul and make me feel alive. I dared you, again.
I explained you how hard it was to make me feel alive, with my obscure soul.
«It's not impossible, I can make it happen, just let me.»
You started to go away from me but you stopped when I screamed.
I found myself whispering «I love you» with a big shy smile.
You united your lips with mine.
«I will make you feel happy and worth living. My love for you is true.»
For some long instants, you made me believe your words.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
Please break the hands
the gears
the cogs
Of the clock
Which ticks away
the moments
the instants
the seconds
the time
Until our ultimate
fall
defeat
demise.
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 7:18 PM UTC
Your blissful touch ignites my whole heart
As your angelic blares forth forever divine
Your alluring kisses that part the Heavens
Help me thank God you are eternally mine
My very own heart longs for your presence
While your caring heart awakens my soul
Perpetually I am fused with your essence;
Entrancing me evermore making me whole
Our souls embrace then reaching harmony
Sharing in Heaven their true eternal love
Spell-binded with bliss throughout eternity
Reaching majestic instants never heard of
Sweet tides from your rapture fascinate me
As your glaring beauty grasps from within
Eternally your love will keep my soul free
By engulfing my essence through my skin
Flawless perfection; a rose amongst flowers
Forever our love plays our own symphony
We will make love to a curtain of showers
As eternally we bathe in our loves ecstasy
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 1:31 PM UTC
That one instant
When I made you blush with my words
When I got you nervous with my look
That one sweet hug in the street
That one tender peck in my cheek
That should be enough to fill all my longing
Enough to fill many lifetimes with joy
But my greedy heart is never satisfied
Can never have enough of you
And wants to extend those instants for ever
So those memories and delusions of what could have been haunt me
And afflict this hungry heart
Because all it wants is you
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
I wish I could show you true beauty
to put a frame to what eyes behold.
I wish I could trace your outline
touch your details
brush your shadows
Cutting stone to your remarkable mold.
I wish I could stop time with a pencil
to frame unintentional glory
to capture you, modest
tranquil
serene
Making seconds outlast eternity.
I wish I could capture these moments
these pauses so precious to me
Instants of awe and breathless watching
painting to memory what I perceive.
So brief are these hallowed moments
and so erratically intermittent
that I find myself hoping
lingering
longing
Forgetting the time in between them.
I wish I had the faculty
to contain your gilded beauty.
Instead, I watch, and cherish these moments,
For in them
I love you
and you only.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:30 AM UTC
Waking in darkness to brainstorming moments
Warm under covers on this freezing morn,
Recalling the instants of yesterday’s sequences,
How they developed and how they were born……
*“Moving with grace in a form fitting garment,
Curves in the shadow light tauntingly near,
Beautiful lines in a moment of weakness
Titillate senses erotically clear.”
“Watching the mouth of the bigoted warbler,
Watching him spout his idolatry spiels,
Rhetoric of mind bending, **** licking garbage
Image of self is the place that he kneels.”
“Urgency now with insurances deadline
Making provision for payments now due,
Juggle the baksheesh for paying the piper
Or the cruelty of bankers will cauterise you!”
“Laughter arouses the happiest moments
Merriment opens the faces so well,
Emotively gracious the giving of laughter
Contagiously, wonderfully ringing the bell.”
"Uncomfortably caught in the midst of an untruth
Unconscionably really, can’t call it a lie,
Got caught in momentum of tale in the telling
Upsetting me now to the point where I cry.”
"Can’t recall why, but I know there’s a matter,
Ripping my britches to try to recall….
Something importantly, now to be dealt with
Frustratingly lost in the fog of it all.”
"Harmonies rise like a mist in the temple
Delicate cadences rise and they fall,
I wonder why God allows this unbeliever
To sing with the Angels in his Holy hall?”
“Running my fingertips over her curvature
Feeling the ***** line plummet to fall
Knowing the thrill of elicit collusion
Anticipate promise of wanting it all.”*
Sudden alarm in the midst of a waking
Urgency calls at the dawn of the day,
Heaving my soul into frost waiting fingers
Leaving my dreams in the warmth where they lay.
Marshalg
“Pukehana Paradise”
Auckland NZ.
22 June 2013
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 6:40 PM UTC
His gait is like the sea,
a steady rise and fall,
when once he greeted me
last summer, I recall.
‘Twas once a fleeting spark
there ‘neath the willow boughs
where chimed the sassy lark
and sun allowed me drowse.
But nomad was he then,
and traveler still now--
for gone he was again
with no “I’ll see you” vow.
A fortnight passes thru
--no promise of his face--
and time is timed by two
when once more enters grace.
For Summer wind is odd,
and once again with it
Returns that fair façade--
The princely, I admit.
Greetings last mere moments,
I’m told they often do,
But in them remnants sleep
For future seconds new—
Rejoin the instants passed
when troubles seem to scorn
and obstacles steadfast
across your path adorn;
From moments such as these
much comfort can be drawn:
Mem’ries of beauties,
softest touches now gone.
For me, that one embrace,
The one from nomad, dear,
Of sweetest scents I trace
And ringing laughter hear—
No other pair of arms
could hold me closer still
no other voice thus warms
a deeper winter’s chill.
Jul 4, 2010
Jul 4, 2010 at 10:32 AM UTC