When Midnight Strikes

Every hour, something different.

Every difference takes up time.

Every time I think of something,

something different takes up time.

Every morning eating breakfast,

breakfast leads to lunch,

lunch carries over to dinner;

dinner, like the rest, isn’t special.

In between there isn’t much,

much the same as before,

before the clock struck its numbers,

numbers soon enough, I’ll never see.

Life for all its problems,

problems I won’t have much longer,

longer still will be the final moments,

moments when midnight strikes.

Up on the hill with others,

others who have waited like me;

me and my simple way of living,

living death in a prison cemetery.

When the final hour does come,

come, think what you must think,

think whatever you choose,

choose wishes or dreams; when midnight strikes.

Fountain waters flow

Like the love from my heart

Struggling with myself

And memories of you.

There are several things I like;

like when your glistening eyes were mine.

Mine, now flooded with drops of tears;

Tears me apart, each second without you.

Sit down for a spell.

Spell my name in the sand, please.

Please me with your delicate art.

Art thou mine?

Your answer? "I am not."

Not anymore, I'm afraid.

Afraid, I am, of losing your love;

Love that I've already lost.

Was it worth it in the long run?

Run back to me, will you?

You are not to my right or my left.

Left me in the dust, you did.

Arising, I walk into the light.

Light up the sky, I pray.

Pray to the Lord for strength;

Strength to move on.

I just wanna

I just wanna

I just wanna

Tell you

I just had to tell you

you might be the one

one out of the millions

millions fall in love

A needle in a haystack

haystack to the sky

sky goes on forever

forever asking why

Yet I would forever doubt

doubt you could be true

true there’s insecurities

insecurities aren’t new

So If I could take a chance

chance is not my friend

friend would leave me lonely

lonely in the end

A piercing scream is heard

From all corners of the Victorian town

Town that starts to lose all its power

Power grid’s been hit by lightning

Lightning flashes across in the sky

Something with razor sharp teeth

Teeth ready to take a giant bite

Bite into someone’s chest

Chest containing the main prize~heart

This thing loves to take

Take away human hearts

Hearts to hold & then eat

Eat ‘n’ enjoy in one chomp

Pray that it does not come

Come by your side tonight

Tonight the shadows will follow

Follow the scent to human flesh

No one can defeat these shadows

Shadows that have been around forever

Forever tormenting folks here

Here in this little town

Are you afraid of shadows?

Shadows that look like beasts

Beasts that can take control over you

You must never stare into their eyes 0.0

#Neverstareintotheireyes0.0

#LoopPoetry

6.9.2020 (c) sundae

I didn’t know I needed her,

Until the day she was born,

For nine years I had been alone,

Before I held my baby sister in my arms.

So tiny, so fragile,

Fragile as a budding flower,

Flower that had to be protected,

Protected with all my power.

For the first time I cared,

Cared more than I thought I could.

Could I really be that selfless?

Selfless to put her before my own good?

She turned my life upside down,

Down to the last cell in my being,

Being a puking, pooping lil’ monster,

Monster that held my thumb while sleeping.

Fifteen years later I look back,

Back to that liberating day,

Day that mother gave life to a baby,

Baby that breathed new life into me.

In the past seven days

I wake up to morning haze

Like a soldier now unphased

By death and general malaise

It started with the fires

Fires brought the smoke

Smoke clogged up all the air

Air temp rose until we choked

Choked behind our masks

Masks on still from the plague

Plague of disease and of anger

Anger at bad decisions made

Made the latest update warning

Warning from our text alert

Alert number god-knows-what

What said "Earthquake - no one hurt."

Hurt? Nah, we're still here

Here in our golden state

State of "Sure, just bring it on"

On our ever piling plate

Six stanzas in a line

Line up for me to see

See, stanzas standing in a line

Line up ten times for me

The first line is already done

Done well and brownish gold

Gold as a perfect summer sun

Sun summer days of old

Oh how I wish I had a second

Second stanzas are so hard

Hard and rocky the trail beckons

Beckons though I’m on my guard

Third times the charm and so I reckon

Reckon third is the smarter path

Path beckons to me as I step in

In the eye of incurred wrath

Four stanzas down, two more to go

Go back up to see the count

Count the lines but even so

So many more to go

Oh wait hold on I got it wrong

Wrong number of stanzas to write

Write one more stanza about the song

Song done now I can sleep at night!

Time, like all things used by humans,

Is simply but a construct.

Not time in it’s essence, but how

Humans measure it: minutes.

Minutes form hours.

Hours form days.

Days form weeks.

Weeks form months.

Months form years.

Years form decades.

Decades form centuries.

Centuries form millenniums.

Millenniums, though, are not definite.

Definite is not time, not at all.

All time is is one continous strand,

Strands that do not stop after each day.

Days are how humans measure time,

Time is not, though, fractured. Minutes,

Minutes are how we measure it.

It means nothing, though, to time.

#philosophy

#poetry

Today the sun is out, and sunny.

So, it’s a bright bright day.

The birds are busy singing,

“Why are you inside?”

The windows let in the sun.

Sun calls to leave the walls.

Walls that keep me inside.

Inside my mind, but not outside

Outside there is peace.

Peace is given by the songbirds.

Songbirds who lull me to dozing.

Dozing poolside in the shade.

Shade is the shadow of calm.

Calm under the trees prevails.

Prevails as they guard the quiet.

Quiet and protective they stand.

Stand in the shade and shadow.

Shadow self is revealed to the breezes.

Breezes like a river of cool water,

Water down any thoughts that arise.

Arise they do to the branches.

Branches wide and strong.

Strong enough to hold them.

Them and their beckoning that I too sing along.

As a child I used to have these vivid dreams

Dreams some might have called nightmares

Nightmares having long since lost their meaning

Meaning being hard to come by these days

Days like this I often think back to that time

Time being something I thought I could collect

Collect and save and sort through when I pleased

Pleased you to watch me find out the truth

Truth of it was we couldn’t hold on to anything

Anything that was given could be taken away

Away was all I needed to know about certain places

Places I would run to each night in my dreams

Dreams that some might have called nightmares

Nightmares had long since lost their meaning

Meaning being hard to come by these days

Days that refused to end no matter how I shut my eyes