"timespan" poems
Five in the morning
feels fresh
and new,
as if
the world has
renewed itself
overnight,
and left
the early morning air
feeling
pure and untouched
against my skin,
within my lungs.
This is air
that the events of the day
have yet to fill;
it is a blank canvas,
whispering its request
to my soul:
for art to be
designed, created,
born, and painted
across its timespan.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC
3:8:15 - Kosher pinot noir toasts the snowflakes that the eider brings, just as the Ash bows ache; naked and starving. Hurdling through old bedroom windows, giving those reasons why pennies are wished first into window wells. Smoggy gawkers, locked into an image shaped by organic lines and gestures. The two smoker- cure their hours reconnoitering in skyrise stairwells, discussing recipes for fixing wounded hearts without the peaceful frequencies she speaks into two styrofoam cups with strings pierced through their innards. Much like the story of how two people meet within the timespan of the living.
Even the Moon Men eat space cakes to loosen their chests, from the apathetic laws that began to govern their personalized truths. Not a mug with a name on it bought after an almost very cool free-art reenactment of Pirates of the Caribbean.
Love is not a sentence I can choose not to awaken.
It's the difference between having a one night stand rather
than keeping a toothbrush at each other's places.
Even on a Saturday night, we could fasten ourselves
to one another. Even if it's only you and I, who are you to
say it's not a party.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:47 AM UTC
God is always something that has appealed to me,
I've always wanted to believe in him,
A comforting thought,
Someone always looking out for you,
A guiding hand,
A meaning to life,
And most of all,
More than nothing after I die.
Thinking of life,
As a flash of light,
In a never ending timespan of darkness,
Scares me.
I would much rather,
It be the opposite.
Why can't I let myself believe in god?
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
i
Afore there was an astrobleme, deep within me
Though now an astral queen, serenadeth gleamed;
Canorous and splendorous, her cantillate I repeat
I mimic her dancing step's, jumping on mine feet.
ii
She's sad when the past awakens, crying dreading tear's
Though tis what she don't knoweth, her king is all right here;
And through the year's, the catoptromancy shalt tell it's fortune
Chiliad timespan, her body to be mine land, water flow sourcing.
iii
I wilt constellate all her worries, and collect them on mine head
Her Burden's I shalt maketh as mine, and taketh all her's instead;
And the cyanic water's shalt we swim through, sail to the glass
The brokenness shalt leaveth her, as no time exist's, nor our past.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©あある じぇえん
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
It's a "getting tattoos for the feeling
Instead of deeper meaning"
kind of reasoning
Digger for personal treason
For an egregious timespan
That left you less leisurely
Shaking hands
With your palms tattooed
Too deep to let the ink wear thin
Skin calloused and questioning
The original intent.
You resent
Your inability to repent
And question
How truly resilient
You were.
C.e.M. 12.7.15
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
Once there was a troubled man,
whose thoughts are gone in a timespan.
His puzzled mind tried to recall the past,
But some of those memories are gone and passed.
He began to ask whats wrong and right
To his simple mind whose memories are vague and bright.
Whats true whats not, What exceeds what lack
Who knows but he who has his mind.
Please bare with him for he's not alright
Confused by his own mind and might
Now's the time to stay, please dont leave
For he needs you now more than you can ever be
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
I need you to love me
The looks that you give me
The kisses on my head
The way that you hold me
It’s everything and not enough
Because you don’t love me
And that’s all I need in the world.
I need you to be with me
To never leave again
Happiness is short-lived
Your love has a shirt timespan.
You can break me in pieces and say that you hate me
You can tear me apart to the core
You can heat up my skin and freeze down my blood
As long as you say that I’m yours.
I know that it’s selfish
I know that it’s not fair
But I really need you to love me
But your love is million dollar rare.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 2:59 AM UTC
I keep forgetting. There
was a commotion in 1995 when
a bird flew inside a house to
eat Chia. Then, a truck killed
A boy’s pet dog. Leaves flew all around,
and a cockroach kingdom
feted underneath our road, in
The labyrinthine sewer systems.
These are my questions: who records
the super intimate crumbs of human moments?
Do they even matter in the blip of time?
Where are the books that failed to sell?
When a woman looked at the painting, it moved her.
What happens to that painting when she dies?
Will it look back at the woman staring and remember
A profound solace?
The music of 1995 latches
to the memory of a given, limited
demographic. But they had other things going on, too
at the time
Humans similar to them collected their bill payments
and sold them meat and sandals.
A fabric of time
taut, invisible
It streamed down naked with pollen. People of 1995 inhaled and sneezed it.
Where did it go?
It’s 2017 now. A stranger with fireworks looks me in the eye.
What do you think of your birth year.
The people that came before, who moved and admired
the Systems, the Comforts. As if each time they spent
Looked like a wholly different world to the future observers.
Just that, **** happens — and there’s nothing
you can do about it.
But maybe there’s one thing.
We can talk about it, yeah. But only
Say it in words, mime that whole timespan in pictureform,
Or mimic some simulacrum in moving pictures.
Once a fossil, always so, emotions.
By design.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 11:23 PM UTC
5:32 AM
The cars come and go
Stars blink in and out
As the horizon grows a cleaner, hazier bright.
No color,
Just bright,
Just the addition of light.
Nothing you could find on the color wheel.
You left half an hour ago.
And I think you'd be impressed
By how drunk I've gotten in that timespan.
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 5:33 AM UTC