Tag Archives: waste

Ode to Time

Hours and hours, a timeless flow.
Where does all our spent time go?
Is it not a currency that we spend?
What location do our transactions send
These dollars and coins, these units of time,
Intoxicate us just like wine.
Everything in moderation; we must not waste.
Everything has a time, every thing has a place.
And as for the question: “Where does time go?”
It goes nowhere, for there is nowhere to go.

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Nihilistic Optimism

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Life is pain and then you die.
Why should I bother to even try?
Days pass by quickly,uncaring.
They do not ask how I am fairing.
It makes no difference, this or that.
It won”t take much to see where I’m at,
In the ocean cold.
Slowly sinking, grasping soul.
Treading water just prolongs,
My end, the bottom, where I belong.

But life is joy before you die!
And joy and love! Still we cry.
Something so fickle and sweet as life
Becomes fermented and stale with time.
One should not wish it to be forever
That it should continue, ending never.
We all end up at the bottom it’s true
Before then I’ll be with you,
Spending the happy hours,
Loving, laughing, avoiding sour
Looks and words that would stain
Our souls if from within they came.

Let the day pass by so quickly!
I’ll not be one who, sickly,
Sits and waits and wastes the time,
What little we have, like a slime,
Trapped on the edge of the ocean, not in it,
Not loving life, but afraid of it.
Life is pain and darkness frightening,
The end comes quickly before the ripening.
In this small time, I’ll make the most
Never fearing the inevitable ghost.
No sorrow in death. It is and it must.
Then we live on, after first turning to dust.

A Burial of Youth

The old, too tired to dig the graves
Required by their sons they couldn’t save.
Left behind instead of leaving,
There is a sorrow first conceiving
Anger, and then the bitter taste
Of youths absence, such a waste.
We’re left to linger, this should not be!
This day was meant for younger eyes than me!
In this evening there are no words.
In this moment the past and future confer,
And those who remain will be loved a little more,
We’ll hold them closer than we ever did before.

This was written in dedication to my friend who recently lost her youngest son. I’ve seen too many children buried by their parents in my time and it’s always a tragedy and never easier to deal with.


The Waste Of War

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Walking among the wastes of war
Asking the air: “What for?”
Among the dead and decaying corruption,
I see a pillar, a hallucination.
On the pillar I see inscribed:
“This is for what we have died.
Death, the lord of war,
Tells us its worth fighting for
But for this it’s not worth dying
And our families for us are pining.
Now lost forever in this waste
Our souls are spread like a paste
Over this dead and dying land
Cause someone didn’t see what was at hand.
They disregard our cries for help
Then watch us die while they can’t help
But sit and think upon their mistakes
Then greed will, their guilt take
And tell them it was just a few,
For the gain of me and you.
They do not value anyone’s life.
They are not killed with a knife.
And to you who reads this now,
Never to greed should you bow.
Never fight for something you don’t believe in,
Never to your greed give in.
For it will be paid for by anothers life
And you will never die by knife.”
After reading this I walked away
From the pillar and the decay
Of war and what it had destroyed,
From death and what it had employed.
And now today I bring my son
To the edge of what war had done.
Walking among the wastes of war,
Asking the air: “What for?”
Among the dead and decaying corruption
We see a pillar, a hallucination,
On the pillar we see inscribed:
“This is for what we have died…”