It’s the now
of our own forsaking.
I’ve been taking lessons from a blind
ventriloquist because somebody once told me
loose lips sink ships and tomorrow’s gone.
Shall we hold our tongues, smile?
Then, just this:
Miles and miles of waiting;
the call and fall and click debating
our breath, relating all we are to noisy hands.
Stand still, Love. Please. Let me see your face.
All I ever wanted,
right here, now.
A Triquain Swirl poem for Magaly’s Cruellest Month prompt. Come play!
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I love this. I am still lost in thought on this poem. Hold not your tongue for what you have to say must be said if you want to say it. or, because of my uneducated brain I may have missed completely…….. lol
Open to interpretation, always. 🙂 We were asked to write about the cruelest thing we can think of…for me, it’s the ticking clock. Sometimes you hold your tongue…other times you wish you did. Either way, I wish for a rewind button. Or a pause, to think a little longer. 😉
Time can be such a huge bastard. Regardless of where we go, the when and the how long we have to get what we need to get while we are there, are a time-whip… always reminding us the importance of the now, even if yesterday and tomorrow won’t stop whispering their own stories.
Love the first two lines.
What a clever title! I especially like the opening and the closing.
The ticking clock. Every tick, every tock takes us closer to who knows what.
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Time moves on, but finding that which makes us content in the everyday is wonderful.
Standing still is so important. I also recall some wise advice I once received: ‘The Muse needs quiet in order to be heard.’ And there is much quiet beauty in these lines.
It’s the now
of our own forsaking.
Yes, it is all up to us. If one disregard time, it becomes elusive and abandons us.
Hank
Oh for the chance to hold time still…those perfect quiet moments that never last quite long enough, in the company of someone special XXX
The elusive here and now, as the clock continues tick away seconds. Beautifully-depicted!
I sense the frustration of the importance that we, as humans, attach to the tickings of the clock. The now is forever lost in the rushing forward and the looking back. Very thoughtful, well done piece!
Clocks are cruel, and not using the time you have is worse. Love this one, De.