Time stands still at thirty-nine
flaws and failures gently caressed
tomorrow promises love just a moment longer
new creatures haunt the mirror’s abyss
baptisms of pleasures, inner desires
origins of life, deceptions of beauty
attainment, mysteries, degrees of fulfillment
some searching yet, some finding it;
Goodness, beliefs, righteousness, happiness
wealth, holding, achieving, temptations
growth, releases, domination, defeats
finding peace, yet still a yearning lonely in shadows
bloom of the flower, showered with flowers
and more flower, and more flower
and more flowers, and more flowers ad nauseum...
OK, we never grow weary of flowers...
Burden of an hourglass, no directions, no goals
observed, abandoned, then awakened emotions
despair scavenged from reckless feelings
reaching out, reaching out, promising time
served with a smile, slipping away...
Adored, coveted, imperfect design
desired every autumn afternoon and every summer morn
self-sacrificed, fears of long final declines
captured in thunder over a thousand miles
transforming, blessings, moments in shared comfort
passing points that never really return;
wasting precious gifts on ego bins
a courtship with hell, and heaven above
a chorale ringing of instant melodies
loved, yes, still loved, if ever loved.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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A poem at the precipice
A lot of "stuff" sure happens when time stands still! I never would have guessed. I think I feel a little dizzy after reading this poem, which is really too bad, as I am standing on the precipice of "39". Okay, I'm going to take a leap of faith and believe that from your last line, someone will be there to catch me at 40, or maybe it is just the presence of universal love as a net? I certainly hope "despair scavenged from reckless feelings" doesn't happen. You make a lifetime occur between 39 and 40, and include heaven and hell in the mix! Guess this is one momentous birthday coming up. Maybe I should wear a parachute.
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a bungee cord will do (and you'll attract younger guys with a crash helmet on! )
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A long sentence for a suspended sentence...
Your poem reads like a grocery list. A little strange, it seems to have only one sentence, one very loooooooooooooooooong sentence! (Maybe I've read it wrong?) Anyway, getting back to the grocery list, it would seem what is attained and consumed here would still leave one hungry, for the good parts --"goodness, beliefs, righteousness, happiness, wealth..." seem to fade into "yet still yearning lonely in shadows". Well, at least there are flowers, many, many, many flowers....
It seems you don't recommend being suspended at "39", so here's a question for you about perspective. If a man turns 40, and is considered wiser, more dignified, and more accomplished for having attained midlife, then why is a woman turning 40 only considered an old hag? (And even men in their 40's look away!)
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men look away from beauty, too... it is the beasts who drool...
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You've just encapsulated life itself, with all its sorrows and travails, its ecstasy and pain, its thundering highs and despairing lows, with remarkable intensity in this powerful poem.
Great stuff,
Bill
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