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Tag Archives: time
(Sub)urban Lawns: toddaid byr
The world is changed each day; each morning sun undoes as it is born. From yesterday it lets the seed we sow grow into what it needs. But what has come before is gone and past; last summer’s fading lawn … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, cycles, mortality, poetic forms, rebirth, spring, time, toddaid byr, Welsh verse forms
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Day Flight: rannaigheacht mhor
Each new day is so fleeting: like a busy bee flitting between its sweet hits, floating, never slowing nor quitting. Life’s made of days flying: sighed hellos and then goings. Through each room we go gliding: near colliding, then dying. … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, brevity, illusion, Irish verse forms, life, poetic forms, rannaigheacht mhor, time
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Time Travel: katauta
What is this thing life? Even stuck still in amber the passage of time remains. What use is living? Even the largest river remembers the breeze touching. What is this thing life? Keeping track of each minute wastes yet another … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, breath, Japanese verse forms, katauta, life, mondo, poetic forms, time
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This is the Morning: gwawdodyn
This is the morning of the first day; nothing much remains of yesterday except some dust in the clay on the wheel, a flew flecks of shadow in the gray. This is the morning of moving on; what happens now … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, gwawdodyn, morning, poetic forms, presence, relativity, time, Welsh verse forms
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The Wild Wind: droighneach
Believe me: there is nothing evident found in the wild wind’s sad apology that echoes the swift, mad accident of an empirical chronology. The sound careens off the walls and multiplies, pale murmurs slipping along an endless cavity where caught … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, droighneach, echoes, Irish verse forms, poetic forms, silence, time, wind
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What We Pretend: cyhydedd hir
What is life, unless it seeks happiness and the sweet caress of contentment? What good is one’s strain in harness, kept chained? Is what we each gain self-evident? What else is out there past temporal cares, waiting unaware our finding? … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, cyhydedd hir, death, goodness, life, perception, poetic forms, time, Welse verse forms
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What is Beauty: cancione
So what is beauty, really? As a requisite to love it seems far too subjective, just some desire’s beguiling design to snare a victim. So what is beauty, really? A figment caught by the eye (or nature-made to seem thus) … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, beauty, cancione, daily poems, illusion, Italian verse forms, love, poetic forms, senses, time
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