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Tag: time

No Time: rimas dissolutas

Published on June 20, 2025

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.

Besides, who wants to just relive the past,
imagining again those glory days
or that crushing defeat? Who needs the stress?

It’s only memory that really lasts,
until it disappears into a haze
that we call history. Well, more or less.

There is no time but now, and it exists
for just this moment only, and no more.
What starts must surely finish when it’s done.

So let it go. It’s useless to resist.
Besides, what good is all forever for?
There is a thing as having too much fun.

20 Jun 2025

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Watching the Sunset: rannaigheacht ghairid

Published on June 19, 2025

Who am I
to wonder at earth and sky
from such a small, useless spot?
I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

It seems odd,
to ponder fate, time and god,
to waste time at such a game.
All the same, my plan’s not flawed.

Honestly.
What other way could life be?
There’s so much of it to do,
and when it’s through, we are free.

Who can tell
what harm’s done to sit a spell,
and just watch the setting sun?
When it’s done, the day ends well.

19 Jun 2025

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Connecting Flights: ottava rima

Published on June 17, 2025

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.

Against the pull of time, our lives spin out
and at the end, our threadless, empty spools
have sewn us neither certainty nor doubt,
but just the simple winding sheet of fools,
that wraps up both the whisper and the shout
and never bothers teaching us the rules.
That threadbare piece of cloth becomes our shroud.
It’s all the carry-on we are allowed.

17 Jun 2025

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Who Really Knows: mondo

Published on June 9, 2025

What is the point? A blue flower opens.
Who sees a flower? The sky is cloudless.

Where are we going? A wave tickles the sand.
Who feels the current? The wind tastes salty.

Why do we not know? A butterfly passes.
Who sees tomorrow? The moment is endless.

09 Jun 2025

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Wake Up: gwawdonyn hir

Published on June 4, 2025

Wake up! The dawn is slowly creeping
behind the darkness. Just stop sleeping.
Dry those nightmare tears; end your weeping,
else your other dreams worth keeping
lose momentum and never see the light.
Right now is the only time to fight.
Please heed your urgent alarm’s beeping.

Wake up! There is not much time to lose.
You are defined by the path you choose,
not how you echo the world’s sad news
or crumble with each impact or bruise.
With every breath you must either stand or fall,
and only now exists for us all.
There is no option for you to snooze.

04 Jun 2025

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The Minute Waltz: englyn proest gadwynog

Published on May 27, 2025

In 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.

You can choose to grow or die –
to sink a root or wither;
at least you think you decide,
while doing both or either.

27 May 2025

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Anybody’s Anything: droighneach

Published on May 20, 2025

Nothing that is temporary becomes infinite;
each thing’s just a project. It starts and it finishes,
simply an effect of a cause, made of composites
that wax and wane. Being comes and then diminishes.

Everything is empty – it is not separated
although it seems to be neatly subdivided.
It is only by illusions it is frustrated;
in that shadow state nothing feels it is united.

Anything that’s trapped in time’s grip stays motionless;
it is not really living, merely an appearance.
A thing grows to another thing, not quite motiveless,
but only what whole contains it maintains coherence.

Something doesn’t come into being from emptiness;
our busy minds create those lines of separation.
While we glorify our own sense of great sentience,
the world is otherwise engaged in all creation.

20 MAY 2025

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