Tag Archives: impermanence

The Passing Game

When someone says we’re out of time, so what?
What difference does one more minute make,
if it’s just on or off, open or shut,
and more of just the same old tired mistakes?

When someone says we’re out of time, does that
mean everything so far is done in vain,
as if one’s whole lifespan’s a welcome mat
for one more doorway labeled “Try Again”? Continue reading

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Out There: rime royal

You cannot heal a thing by using hate.
That salve infects a wound and makes it burn,
then die and rot. Then it is far too late
to blame the medicine you chose to take
for giving you results you didn’t see.
There’s no returning from such a mistake,
no happiness can bloom from enmity. Continue reading

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No Time: rimas dissolutas

There is no time, we cannot start again.
The clocks do not run backwards on command,
nor do the years reverse their gears on queue.

You cannot substitute a now for then,
nor rearrange the instance where you stand.
There is no try again, just simply do. Continue reading

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With Us: pantoum

The world is too much with us to pretend
that it is just a temporary slot,
a way to pass some time from start to end
or make it believe it’s separate. It’s not

that it is just a temporary slot,
a proving ground for weighing thought and deed.
It is the whole of everything we’ve got.
There is no other lifetime guaranteed. Continue reading

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Connecting Flights: ottava rima

Against the current swims the steadfast one
who thinks to beat the ocean at its game.
What starts as just a wager made in fun
becomes, after an hour, much the same
as boasting that you could stare down the sun.
You cannot win. Admit it. There’s no shame
in realizing you are very small,
and not much worry to the world at all. Continue reading

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The Minute Waltz: englyn proest gadwynog

n just a minute’s brief span
the world is made and unmade.
Try as you may, no one can
restore colors once they fade,
nor take back a piece once played.
There is no time but right now;
all the rest is lost in shade,
turned underneath new farrows. Continue reading

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What Else: choka

What else can I say?
The world is what we make it,
or maybe it’s not.
The little splashes we make
barely change the water’s calm.

What else can we do?
From nothing, everything comes
and then it is gone.
How we choose to measure time
makes little difference to it. Continue reading

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