“Confusion never stops, closing walls and ticking clocks”…

time1

~

Time doesn’t heal,
it just helps us forget…

As our memories fade,
blurring our regrets…

Nature’s own sedative,
seeps into our veins…

On mission to destroy and
slowly send us insane…

Then leaves us looking,
at old eyes in a mirror…

The stranger staring back,
who can’t quite remember…

Who on earth are we,
what have we done…

The hearts we’ve broken,
in the midst of distractive fun…

Or the ones we loved,
who were then taken away…

Under the illusion given,
we’ll meet again someday…

As we progress on our journey,
from young through to old…

Always trying to understand,
seldom doing as we’re told…

Making so many mistakes,
hoping no one’s keeping score…

Learning the harsh lessons,
Whilst making more and more…

Counting all our evil sins,
carrying all of our scars…

As we stumble through life,
following a path to the stars…

Hoping time will heal us,
yet never becoming wise…

Still believing the fairy stories,
still falling for all the lies…

Until one day it’s over and
we come face to face with death…

And time just keeps on ticking,
long after we take our final breath…

~

21 responses to ““Confusion never stops, closing walls and ticking clocks”…

  1. Beautiful, J, love that song. Grim poem, though realistic. . If life is impermanent, then so are scars, sins, lies, pain. “yet never becoming wise” – why not? Thank you much for sharing.

  2. Edo Palace Mix

    Takae, so simple, fluttering on the wind of vegetarian
    existence, refusing to eat up more than her share,
    presenting herself a second time, but finding no taker,
    is less than joyous, yet remains so gentle. Two swans
    glide, bobbing for minnows, mated for life, fed by ample
    moat, seen by hundreds each day. Mostly Takae yearns
    to be the swan on the right, head held up, pet of the palace.
    Instead, like the sour gooseberry picker, Chekhov’s Nikolay,
    she labors at city hall. Better, like the clerk job Kafka had, or
    Poe’s daily grind, Takae, so full of wonder, but now resentment
    too, as youth slips into middle age with no permanent necker,
    glider, lover to snuggle with. Yellow petunias with purple eyes
    stretch open to us, and I think that Takae will see this exact
    pattern and find comfort having spent a day in Chiba
    with friends that will, over time, form a second base.
    A dream fulfilled erases previous disappointment. How to
    meld dreams into the closeness that supports? Elephant ear
    plants glisten under gray. Bamboo rustles, imperial reminder
    that one generation can be the foundation of new style, culture,
    love, beauty, art, strength, ethics, for centuries to come.

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