Poetry

Just so…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

We all only go, just so. How long before that, we really don’t know.

We hope for the best, of course, till put to the test, then hope for the easiest, the softest, most gentle way to go.

Lately, I wonder though, as time marches on and age ravages and plunders, the depths of my psyche more than body, to be honest.

And yet, I’ll plod along, perhaps write a new song – not just a cheap rhyme! I do write a song now and then! Now and then. More then than now, but you know how that goes as we grow with the vestiges of time.

I don’t know exactly about all of that, and I really don’t care! Not tonight. Tonight’s for reflection. A moment to write of my pathetic plight on this night of dereliction.

One DNA strand away…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

We all like to think, we’re rather distinct, but in fact we’re not, at least not as much as we like to think.

You see, DNA is a thing that distinguishes this from that. One stand, or even less in fact, makes you as different from this or that.

It’s not that we’re not unique. That’s it, in fact, that makes it such a feat, that little strand.

And so we stand, all proudly so! But this much we all should know — that a little strand of a thing so small, can make the difference between us all.

In the meantime, perhaps, look around you now – see, we’re each unique, and in that wisdom I beg you seek…

If we see all that we’ll have no fear, you see, or future tear, because we’ll see the good within us all and live our lives, I pray, with peace, or dare I say – love? For all.

Oh, so dear…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

I once was a desperate man. A desperate man, yes, I was.

Until I realized that desperate was as desperate does and that it would only bring me more because.

Because my situation, you see, was such that — a man suddenly without a home. A man suddenly without his children. A man suddenly without most everything then, made me useless and unable to do what I wished I could have done, to do what was left so desperately left undone, but I couldn’t because of she.

She held the rope tied tight around my neck.

She wrote the narrative of my days back then.

She decided everything to my dismay.

She is not a projection of my own dark mind. Not upon which a therapist would make their dime, not on me, oh no, oh no.

Yet, she. Still she. Sadly so, and upon this wretched earth I go with barely a day’s reprieve from the worst of her!

I’m done with SHE, I call her IT! I rid her gleely with my spit!

Yet she was IT, one time — a time very long gone I scarcely know. A sliver of the memory remains yet still, remains upon this hill of memories lost and barely gained, brings back, I must admit not just a little pain…

My heart does yearn for those better years. The time I tenderly held it, she, or her — my sweet, oh so dear.

Oh, so dear….

As it is…

~ Tim ~ 2 Comments

Why does my heart ache, so much just now? It’s a thing, I wonder how

Often, because it’s because I see too much?

Or is it because I want a crutch — a thing to hopelessly caress and clutch?

Or is it because I do see, perhaps some, or a little, or a wee bit even…beyond…just me?

Of a land where others roam beyond my home, beyond this place, beyond just my only face?

I’d like to think it is. If not, then take me now dear Lord because I’m past this biz…

No vainglory hopes for more than this…I love all this, just as it is.

Dross…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

This day is dross, it grows like moss and yet it goes a pitter-patter.

Why should I care, why should I dare, since it really doesn’t matter.

And yet, some say, I should care before I cast it all into the air, for the wind to take it where it will, this way or that without being still, for a moments grasp in desperation until it lands upon the station, of life lived, lost and left behind. Too much thought for this frail mind.

I am what I am, or I is what I is, as Popeye said, before he died upon his bed.

There really isn’t this or that or whatever else we think is this or that.

There is only what is, accept or not, not a damn thing upon which to hang our hat

Other than who we are and know down deep. And with that fact, I’ll rest in sleep.

Still me…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

Today was a day that I wish I never lived.

Today was a day that I was grateful to be alive.

Today was a day, unlike any other.

Today was just today, and for that I’m grateful.

Nothing bad happened amongst the mix.

Nothing upset me more than this.

It was a nothing day, amongst the rest.

For that I’m grateful, although that wavers, the judgement upon it all can’t be.

Today, it was….still just me.

I should feel guilty for being so selfish, I should be fraught!

Ha ha! But I’m not, because, to be able to reflect upon my lot from today or tomorrow or yesterday on how to be…reminds me that I am…just still me.

This I see…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

Today I saw into my past. Today I saw that it doesn’t last. Well, we do, but the memory doesn’t. It’s up to us to make it present. It is our choice you see, it really is up to you and me, to make of it what we will or won’t.

Today I saw into that past. I’m glad that it didn’t last. Well, I know that our memories wax and wane and can follow us willy-nilly upon the plane. But it is our choice you will see, it really is up to you and me, to make it what we will or what we don’t, and most won’t.

Today I saw into today. I’m glad for it, it’s here to stay. Well, I know it’s short and about to end, but that won’t stop me from hitting send, on that text to my closest friend, my love and dearest confidant, the one no one will know until the end. I’m good with that and so are they, and that’s all I have to say about stuff that’s personal, that tucks down deep into this arsenal, that lives this life that’s separate as the flowers be, that shows and gives us all their goodness and beauty.

This I see. Amen, this I see.

The end…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

This space…life, as it grows dim, do I dare to let him in?

He has haunted me from my youth, since I awakened.

I was 8, a day which gives me fright. But I then saw there that life was IT.

This IT I’ve called it ever since. A blessing, one would or should suppose, but not for me all these years as I’ve posed.

Posed for what? To reach an age that today is defined from yesterday. I’m old.

We will, I hope, live much longer, but that doesn’t mean I’ll grow any stronger.

Rather, the clock defines us still. Will not, will wither, will it be it as it may.

Not to dismay, it is our plunder, our way upon this earth asunder.

As for me, I will stand up tall and take my fate, as much we all.

Slay me now or slay me yet, I take my odds on life’s sure bet, that we will know when to end the show and be as yet, another remembered.

Life…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

So many of us are tired, with Covid and with life, especially if we are older. Perhaps it is the bell ring of our time in this form of being that we call Life, nearing its end? As for me, I welcome the great, the best of sleep ever. This life tires me. There is no ultimate solace, no here and now release from its daily grasp upon our souls. Nothing other than our sweet repose, asleep, in peace, forever. 

To be able to see our end in such great light, surely brings us up to our lifelong fight, for this for that and the other thing. Time now, me thinks, to sing! It is not that which we have feared! Rather, I suspect, a thing to actually be revered.

So do I…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

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As the fall blooms brighter and the days get shorter, so do I.

As the rains fall harder and the fair clouds flounder, so do I.

As the darkness veils the mourning loss of springs lost grandeur and summers sweetness amidst the rainbows fading glory, so do I.

There’s no way back upon this road. No U-turn to give delight. Instead it wanders through the darkest forest with a one way glory with a one way sign on a one way life…

So do I.