Time

2 Comments

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  • Philosophy

    Time
    Time slips through to my fingers
    And the residue lingers
    On the tips...

    My sun kissed skin
    Begins to dim
    And my mind begins to skim
    Away from the sanity which it originally resided in
    And immediately time is repeating itself

    Slipping through my fingers
    And the residue lingers
    On the tips...

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    zasetsu57 commented on Time

    05-24-2009

    Brava! Brief...emotive..and finely done! I was very impressed with the imagery. I am reading a touch of buddhist philosophy on the transitory nature of reality as we see it...Thank you for sharing your Mind and heart with us.
    Reply to Comment

    cliftondurant commented on Time

    04-20-2009

    As time slip away it leave it mark lovely poem
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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