Bright lights.
Low buildings.
The big blue stretches above -rising, sinking,
hues shifting
with the breath of day.
Time flows, unceasing.
The sky forgets,
just as I often do,
what time it’s supposed to be.
The days drip down.
The clocks forget their voices.
The world spins—
but not for me.
So much life…
So much time,
when you are young
And yet
so little meaning is to be found.
Nothing does.
Laughter dries.
The fun is brittle—
Fragile.
Frail.
And Joy?
A flake of light
caught in glass.
So little joy,
so little fun.
So little happiness
in the chaos that ensues and surrounds and controls.
My memories play
like broken, distorted film reels—
flickering, reversing,
skipping scenes
I don’t remember living
but miss all the same.
I hear voices out of sync
faces turning away
before I can name them.
I miss them,
like they left without saying goodbye.
The crushing beats.
The clashing drums.
Echoing, resounding voices
The fire in them,
burning,
rising.
All resounding.
All surrounding.
And all enveloping.
Pitches, melodies, movements, sound
Colliding, grinding,
Racing,
Running
All to a movement,
all to a climax
The feelings of giddiness.
Excitement
That sweet, addictive feeling…
This is it.
The rush.
The dance.
The drug of being alive.
The edge of the cliff
right before the fall.
It gets closer,
and closer,
and then…
Silence.
The breath between beats.
The question
that never ends.
Was this it?
Did it mean anything?
There comes a moment
when even silence feels full.
A time when one realizes:
It’s a void, this life.
It’s all just echoes pretending to be answers.
The Questions unending.
The Story. Unfinished.
I walked through fog
That knew my footsteps.
Thick with regret,
so heavy it held me;
soft as silk cloth.
And from it,
a voice called my name
in a tone I never heard before,
quiet as ash
not loving,
not cruel.
Soft as a warning.
It didn’t welcome me.
It recognized me.
It gets closer.
And closer.
Each minute.
Each week.
Each gone year.
Drier skin.
Weakened bones.
Faded hair--From a time when
I loved,
I fought,
I cried so much
I thought it was living.
Now,
I sit
with a quieter ache
with the fear
of it all having passed me by.
Fewer minutes.
Less breath.
A slow unwinding of the clock
Until I Got No More Time.
TRUE VERSION:
Bright lights
Low buildings
The big blue
The ever rising and sinking hues
From when the days come and go
From when time is in unceasing flow...
So much life
So much time
It seems when you are so young;
And yet so little meaning is there
So little fun is to be had;
Little joy and little
Happiness to be found
The banging beats
The deafening drums
The echoing and respondent voices
The fire in them
Their burning desires
All resounding
All surrounding
And all enveloping
Pitches, melodies, movements, and sounds
Colliding and grinding
All to a movement, all to a climax
The feelings of giddiness, excitement, sweetness…
That addictive feeling…
Closer and closer and then…
It reaches a time when one realizes
It’s a void, this life
The Questions ever unending
The Story unfinished
Never know what Im gonna get
If its rightly deserved
Until I get whats mine
Its getting closer
And closer
Drier skin
Weakened bones
Faded hair
From a time when I loved; I cared; and I cried
Fewer life is now lived
Fewer Time is now had...
Until I Got No More Time