Poetry – Time if you please

Time if you please

Meg had been the landlord

Of the Rancid Stoat and Quail

But now at ninety five

She wasn’t pulling ale.

T’was the fire that she was craving

That kept her old bones well.

These days she just huddled close

And listened to the tales.

She’d had a happy childhood

With her sisters, mum and dad.

Wild in the countryside –

Life hadn’t been so bad.

And when she’d been a-courtin’

She’d had her share of bliss

Dancing with the lads

And sharing many a kiss.

But she’d settled down

With her handsome husband Syd

And working well together

Created many a kid.

Those had been the happiest days

With her family all around

A house so full of gaiety

Where laughter was the sound.

No matter how they’d grown

No matter how big they were

Even with families of their own,

They were still just kids to her.

She wondered where the time had gone

The years had flown so fast.

But they were full and happy days

When dwelling on the past.

But now her body lurched.

She felt her heart jerk.

Her whole world was spinning

Before a gathering murk.

With a sigh she slid

From her chair down to her knees

As a voice in her head called:

‘Time – Time if you please!’

15.5.2019

This was a title with my writing group. I started to write something funny (as can be seen from the rancid stoat) but I was kind of caught up in a little sentimental story and this is how it came out.

Time was what they used to call in the pubs and ring their bell to signal last orders.

One day it will be time for us all.

Poetry – Time is Limited

Time is Limited

They say time is infinite

But it isn’t.

It starts one day,

Forgotten,

But not long ago –

Out of timelessness

Into life,

With no distinct moment

To mark its birth.

It proceeds

Relentlessly,

Metronomically,

Without end –

Until it stops.

Time ends.

Opher 26.12.2018

It is the sound of one hand clapping. It seems to me that the infinite reaches of the universe and time only exist while there is a consciousness to acknowledge it.

I do not remember the moment of my origination. My consciousness came into being. There were no distinct boundaries, no moment when I came into being.

When I am gone the universe and time will cease to exist.

Poetry – Time is Limited

Time is Limited

They say time is infinite

But it isn’t.

It starts one day,

Forgotten,

But not long ago –

Out of timelessness

Into life,

With no distinct moment

To mark its birth.

It proceeds

Relentlessly,

Metronomically,

Without end –

Until it stops.

Time ends.

Opher 26.12.2018

It is the sound of one hand clapping. It seems to me that the infinite reaches of the universe and time only exist while there is a consciousness to acknowledge it.

I do not remember the moment of my origination. My consciousness came into being. There were no distinct boundaries, no moment when I became aware.

Be warned. When I am gone the universe and time will cease to exist.

Poetry – Life

Life

An interlude between oblivion;

An unreal sandwich in time;

A sojourn of something.

Can it be real?

When it is gone

Did it ever exist?

When there are no memories

And no witnesses left,

No eyes to see

Or brains to record,

Will anything have existed at all?

In this capsule of time,

This bubble of reality,

We wrestle with eternity

And it pins us to the floor.

Opher 28.7.2018

I think I was in my metaphysical frame of mind the evening in which I wrote this. Somehow the sound of one hand clapping was smitten with the sounds of trees falling in the distant forest.

There are times when I am sure this life is a dream. When we are all gone and there is no sentient life left in the universe to sense its majesty or delight at its wonders can it still exist?

It is this egocentric thinking that spawns religions. We cannot believe that such wonders exist if not for our own benefit. That is the folly of humans.

Poetry – Life

Life

Time in seconds

     Tick   Tick   Tick

Passing slowly

     Quick   Quick   Quick

Filled with longing

     Sick   Sick   Sick

And hopes, fears, dreams

     Pick   Pick   Pick

Rushing past now

     Trick   Trick   Trick

Gathering speed

     Lick   Lick   Lick

Crashing out now

     Kick   Kick   Kick

Time in seconds

    QUICKKICKTICK

Live it

Opher 4.8.2015

Life

It seems to go so slowly when you are young. There is an endless summer to get bored in. There are days full of nothing.

Then you leave school and the days are full. You look behind and find years stacking up.

You have a career and family and there isn’t time to breathe or energy to breathe with. But you promise yourself the things you will do tomorrow.

Then it is tomorrow and you are doing those things. It has sneaked up on you. It is like you never really got going and now it is almost over.

Time. Life.

Poetry – sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes,

It’s an age away,

Geological eras.

Sometimes

It’s seems minutes,

Mere minutes.

All in an unreal dream,

That seems to have

No end.

But will suddenly end.

Opher – 7.6.2020

The universe exists forever. Or just as long as we are here to be aware of it.

When all life has gone and there is nothing left to see it – does it still exist?

Sometimes it seems that I have been here for ever.

Sometimes I am aware that I will soon be gone.

Will it still exist without me?

Pink Floyd – Time – Lyrics about life and how quickly it passes

pink_floyd_band_members-1862

When you are young it can be bewildering. The world is full of confusing possibilities. What are you going to do with your life? Your head is full of impossible dreams.

I’ve talked to many young people about what they want to do with their life. Very few have a good idea. They drift through thinking that it will all work out somehow.

I can’t believe the number that have told me that their strategy is to win the lottery. They have a far better chance of being hit by a fast car.

Then one day you look around and all those possibilities have narrowed down. You can no longer do all those things. You left it too late.

A human life is really very short. When we are young the days are interminable. We spend a quarter of our lives growing up to be an adult and another quarter in old age. The older you get the faster time flies. Years flash by.

Time is the enemy.

Time

Mason, Waters, Wright, Gilmour)
The Dark Side of The Moon

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I’d something more to say.