where art collides

No Time
I saw it, yesterday
a romantic, bloodshot, clearview eyeful
was good, strolling comfortably by,
fat bellies in life absorbing tall grass,
careless, laughter filled country lanes;
four seasons of mud, snow, pollen and dust
of footprints and wet feet,
open fires and steaming socks
open windows and breathless nights,
slow passing cow curious days,
of tireless church bells
and life and inevitably death

elusive, in my grasp, but then gone
A dwindling presence reduced to a dribble,
dried up torrent,

it’s here now
no time show time
stop time go time
live for the finger snapping moment
in a high speed shutter blink life time
no room for musty routine,
cobwebs of convention
blow open windows of change
rattle cupboard doors and
spill empty glasses of conformity

but no, time has gone,
I should have quit while I was ahead.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 29th, 2011 at 9:02 pm and is filed under poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.