This is left

An old man sitting on a bench

 

A Cane

Supporting the sun which will not support us

 

A Broken World

In full repair

 

A Race

Time itself, against time

 

Love Pulling

Us to ourselves to see
the waters rising, against water itself

 

Oh how you have tried, so hard, so tired

 

A Tide of Trends

Documenting ourselves, against documenting itself

 

A Key

Which opens something so far lost
replaced by a code replacing itself

 

A Perpetual State

Of just about
to collapse as collapse fights desperately against itself

 

Love Pulling

A female voice from far away
becoming clearer, stronger, against silence itself

This is left

A half-forgotten story and have remembered songs

 

 

A Music

Made of the silence found between notes
of time vibrating and marking a moment itself

 

A Making

That is each now, that ever was ever will be
you in constant construction, against construction itself

 

A Woman hugging a child

On the grass in a daisy strewn park
watching a boat taking water, taking time itself

 

A Swinging door

On a rusted hinge shrieking open and closed
outside and in, inside and out, interchangeability itself

 

 

A Balloon

Half floating in dirty air drifting
defying accepted truths like gravity, against gravity itself

 

A Shore

Defined by the sea which has become a wall
invisible and real, a single wave against singularity itself

 

 

Love Pulling

The separation together stitching the fabric of want
into the whole from which we became, against becoming itself

 

 


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rose says:

harmonic, back-forth, simple spans of dancing
between time, form, en-trancing, the bending
of this moment – into – itself
whereto
from here
but here
itself

Joe Ross says:

indeed, no where, but here – here itself

george vance says:

A drawn-out transition ; odd adaptation ; numerous hiccups ; actual pain ; momently calling-into-question
But this is my habit; regardless of locale; what will happen; will I survive; which best way forward;
The tedious obligatory work of survival; a day to come when the higher quest survives survival;
We did not expect this; we did not expect life; a child is born not expecting life, but expressing need;
Comes a day when it desires and plans; each new situation a repeat; all through life; when will we ever learn; we will never learn; each circumstance must be coped with anew; our child-derived stresses adapted, again; and again;
Small increments of wisdom – sublimated street-smarts from trafficking with the world; always a system prevails; through its representatives ; their commitment to it; we too become its minions;
and survive ; for our time;

Higher quest bud-nipped by need-feeding; its positing helps cope with the lower quest;
Moments of repose; one hopes to think; one hopes to reflect; one hopes;
Needs call; one copes; one cops a hope

Joe Ross says:

Yes – time without ‘a’ time – hope in the mix of now – which delivers us from transition/transformation, to home/peace.

Rama Mani says:

This is exquisite: succour to the parched soul, fertiliser to the starved mind. A reinvention of language, a rediscovery of meaning. A reminder that just when life appears to have lost all meaning, we can reclaim, redeem, redefine each word we chose to use, and restore meaning to language itself. Thank you Joe!