1 Day 1 World Project: 10pm

Inspired by Northwest Frame of Mind 1 Day 1 World Project: 10pm and the well-known game ‘If I go to sleep now… that’s 8 hours sleep’…

 

20140714-220247-79367320.jpg

“Time is an illusion”

It’s 10pm on a Monday

eyes closing; must be time to sleep

dreams of finding time – someday

there will be logic in our weeks.

Weighed and measured all my lifetime

into hours, days, months and years

conditioned by the hands that chime

transient moments – deepest fears.

It’s time to set the alarm clock

It’s time to turn down the warm bed

It’s time to pull on the wooly socks

It’s time to farewell today – she’s dead.

Time is humanity’s greatest curse

inured to the great grand design

trapped inside from birth to hearse

will we ever find the time?

It’s 10pm on a Monday

and it’s almost time for bed

tomorrow will be another day

tick tock goes the clock, she said.

Thoughts on Life

Inspired by Pooky’s Poetry Prompt 15 – The Meaning of Life
 
 
Sitting on the stone steps of Parliament House
in my warm grey coat and snuggly scarf
clutching to my hot vanilla chai latte
as I watch brown leaves floating in the wind.
What a marvellous moment to be here!
To see, the world tick-tocking like clockwork. 
Chatter echoes from the crowded cafes
as the trams jingle their morning songs.
Sometimes I stop – listen – and wonder
it’s a funny thing we do everyday
existing and living; playing the game
Is there meaning? And it’s not forty-two.
It feels like a never-ending story
where we’re born in the middle – missing
pieces of the beginning – a puzzle
that we spend our lives trying to work out.
Some say there are three things; life, death, taxes
but I think it’s human architecture
life for me, is Mufasa and Simba
it’s the story of how we all connect.
In a giant globe of activity
this world is an enigmatic story
that happens to feature humanity
and stepping on a butterfly changes history.

OneDayOneWorld – Hour One – 12pm

Ever wondered what everyone else is up to at any given time on any given day? The following was written for / inspired by the 1 Day 1 World Project running from May to October (24 weeks) where each week will unveil a particular hour around the world.

Sunday 12pm

20140504-143051.jpg

Bound inside my suburban walls

like the spider caught in the drain

watching as the dark shadows fall

under the loud thundery rain.

Nestled in my big blue armchair

I read my book and drink my tea

the smell of pizza fills the air

with my warm fuzzy boots and me.

#NaPoWriMo Day Thirty – “April’s Journey”

headstone-md1

She noticed the line between B and D

on the worn out stone in that photograph

and thought, what could that line possibly mean?

When she leaves here, she’ll paint an autograph

of all her thoughts, moments and poetry

signed, sealed, delivered with a smile and laugh.

Walking through time, her quest to history

where she wrote letters on a Wiltshire hill

pondering the worlds greatest mysteries.

Lie with her in fields of daffodils

as she gazes into Albion’s windows

from the grassy bench of Salisbury’s windmills.

Or find her dancing sunshine and rainbows

as she encounters New York Down Under

April Twenty Fourteen was quite a show

just like lightening in a storm of thunder.

Her line tastes like chai latte on Mondays

a blissful moment her heart could plunder

From point B, the line is a disarray

of wibbly-wobbly moments

just waiting to be played.

 

Prompt: All the 29 poems I’ve written this NaPoWriMo 2014.

#NaPoWriMo Day TwentyEight – “Falling”

Swooping off the cliff like a hungry bird
she follows her path to a places unknown
hunting for actuality – she is falling.
Expressing herself in drawings and words
creating a world inside her mind, her own
rain racing to the ground, she is falling.
Someday soon she will find a little nook
and paint her world in verses and hues;
tales of moments and places she has flown
through her life; a journey is all it took.
Falling.

Prompt: http://www.napowrimo.net/2014/04/day-26-2/

Picture Credits: http://www.falconrygallery.com/displayimage-18.html

#NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen – “a weeping angels woe”

 

Alone in the churchyard I watch

mortals mourning in tears and flowers.

Leaning against a rowan tree

abandoned by my family.

Beneath my feet a girl is weeping

I open my arms and kneel down

In surprise, she looks up at me

screaming like a startled crow.

She runs back through the stone and grass

reaching out to her, I follow

She turns to me – her eyes are cold

and zap – she’s now in the past.

Falling through time – I am weeping;

my eyes hidden behind grey fingers.

Left within eternal sleeping

this is where my Winter lingers.