Living Stopped by Ticking Clock

Waiting room…. where life is bound. Heart beats mock the tocking sound.

Dr. Death… behind white doors! Attuned to solemn namely calls.

Waiting ….life’s clock chimes in  tick and tocks. Sitting poised, Glock 40’s cocked. Chasing time while livings stopped. In comes Doc to set life’s clock.

Answer??? “No…not today.” Dr. says “Your fights not grave.” Arrrgh it’s breath not death! You live to wait another day.

Annoyed…Time grieving what was never lost.…”not today” you tell your clock.

Life spent waiting to live. Living spent reflecting on life. When do we start feeling alive?
 Image- The Clock Ticks Life Away by iCasseith
Image- The Clock Ticks Life Away by iCasseith
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Life isn’t Fair

Mind tinkers in verse and transforms into rhyme

My thinking coerced by two stanza lines

The rhythm of thoughts, a sullen progression

My metronomes ticking tunes of suppression

A blessing and curse is my mindful transverse

To live full of wonder, yet ponder the hearse

How death isn’t fair, so neither is life

Wealth finds the wicked as poor pays the price

Image: Poverty, by Niv24
Image: Poverty, by Niv24

When the End is not Near Enough

Chest holds grenades pulled of their pin

Daddooms counting down those ticks from within

Strokes falling short of a meaningful measure

Beats that retreat, as aching’s trump pleasure

Oh how chambers chime in a pitch out of tune

Rhythms depicting a heart now in ruin

Daddooms void of lust, rings stripped of luck

A life that’s no must, screams a “who gives a fuck”

Oh… but action takes motive, motive takes might

Who’s the lacer of gloves for living this fight?

The pins now been pulled, but whether to throw

Or wait clasping down for more souls than your own

The fight isn’t over, life’s in your hands

Grenades can be tossed to better-laid plans

Throw at the daemons poisoning mind

Let pins release pain, without blood on the line

Life isn’t over when thoughts muffle dreams

Life only halts when silencing screams

When a heart stops its course, short of fulfilled

When minds current racings are finally stilled

When that trigger is pointing to the one in the frame

When the mirrored reflection ends its own game

What is the fuel for pulling life’s pin?

Don’t rely on the mind that scolds what’s within

A stranger, a friend, a soul in the light

Is the lacer of gloves for winning this fight

Hearts soften voices poisoning minds

Rekindling hopes that alone you can’t find

Echo’s in mirror should be spied by another

Sounded in tongue, not by daemons you suffer

Put down the knife that’s intended to pierce

Cut down that noose that will cut short your years

Turn from the ledge that tows now caress

Discard the drugs you intend to ingest

Is your hearse laying chosen? Is the grave trumping life?

Is your hand on the trigger while your rolling deaths dice?

Please reconsider the bed you have made

Rest tomb bound plans covertly laid

I’ll lend you my mind to offload your daemon

My heart can fill yours, life’s not in completion

Image, Hand By Gilead
Image, Hand By Gilead

My Tears won’t Resurrect a Life

Certainty now feared, as time promotes regression

Hours clocked in seconds, minutes prized possessions

Life deprived of space, for loves chanced deposits

In ticks and tocks another frame descends to earthly closets

Mirror and clock stand hand in hand, unified to rival

Regrets yield no apology as grief spurs no revival

Pain declines with time, memories will fade

Tears won’t resurrect my loves within life’s grave

My Eyes Refuse to Accept Passive Tears Image by agnes-cecile
My Eyes Refuse to Accept Passive Tears
Image by agnes-cecile 

Take this Dance with me?

The safe play finds no admiration. The risky is revered when success is in the chance taken. The dangerous is envied, whether triumph is its fruits or failure its afflictions.

Take the chance? Yes

Shall we dance? Yes

Match my prance? Yes

Regret this stance? No

Courage should never be wasted. Dance with me?

By irv-artshark
By irv-artshark

Ambivalence Turned Influence

Life on a whim. My rise and falls matching the occasions. Success and failure without accountability. I was just there.   A bystander to life. A witness to the despondency of my existence. I embodied ambivalence.

Then….

I found my heart could speak. I am a speaker

My sound harked for the weak. I am a teacher

Then..

The ground cracked under feet. I feel my power

Now my mind embarks on life’s feat. This is my hour


Hope is in each hour“Equip your lips with tactfulness to unshackle what resides

What keeps us up at night, producing pain when lips confide

Assemble with me, armed with words… to pierce a callused skin.

Corse coverings, now seeping… with solvents to your grin”

Mind to Unbind

I would love to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to comment, like, share or further peruse my mind.

Times Abrasions

Tapping feet, strum the beat imprinted by a scene.

A solemn song sees soles despond, as mood and tunes convene.

Treble in delight, while bass embraces gloom

Feet stampede in melody, composing moment’s tune. 

Impatient pounds in song. Intolerance of time.

A line! A Light! Delays in flight! Impart the trudging chime. 

Tippy toes, tap chipper blows, in lively disposition.

A state translates to melody, matching life’s editions.

 Can’t we tap to counteract the mood upon occasion?

Make our chime? Not fall in line, with the tone from times abrasions?

Screen Shot 2015-10-05 at 12.12.36 PMScreen Shot 2015-10-05 at 12.12.36 PM

Time plays us all, yet we never get to play with time

The second-hand carousels, corralling all manner of creatures within range of its focus.

Not alarmed by the alarm that shatters the silence of my surroundings, while muting the chaos of my thoughts.

You say I am a time bomb! I thought it was established. I’m not ticking.

Muffled mutations chime, constructing intelligibility. Sitting in silence amid my crescendo.

A conductor’s symphony racketeers an intruders thoughts. The merry-go-round rides me. The saddled beasts imparting ticks. Not my tick, monster’s ticks.

I’m not ticking. Wave riding creatures attempt to periodically curtail my fuse.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Expressions ricochet monotony.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Out of reach yet within earshot.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Lifelines within a circumference.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Faces etched with occasions inevitability.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Surroundings painted in echo.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Framing our existence.

Tick Tick tick. Each chime is one less.

Tick. Time has no deadline, yet its demise yields certain death.

time. darth vader