An uneventful day in which I just passed through pages and pages of my own memories. I am still working on the poem I started couple of days ago, It is growing by every hour. Now 55 lines long but I am still not happy with the starting. I am moving my poetry forum http://www.lonelypoet.org to a new server but the hosting company said it will take about 48 hours for them to finish the transfer of domain and setup. Once they are done then I have a lot to do to move my handful of members and their posts into the new sever. That will be fun, I know that, as I have gone through that drill before.
This is a poem I wrote on a day like this as every time I look back in my memories I only have one event and everything that happend around it to think about and talk about. I left this poem in my hard drive as an unfinished one, but I don’t think there is a lot to finish in it anymore. If it is not going to make any sense to someone please let me know what did not made sense.
The twist and turns of these tiring days,
That tires even the bravest minds,
Give the thought that nothing outlasts,
The mockery of time with life.
Darkness and light no longer fights,
Days are not long anymore,
Nights are darker with sleeping stars,
Every bit of life in every corner of the universe,
Fed up with the bravery of the idiots,
Who all fight with tooth and nail,
For a bit of time that fits every living, in.
Some time even time will feel shy and laugh,
When spiritual and material life is defined,
Nothing is material is the fact,
None cared when defined life,
To control this unknown passage,
Which grandma called ‘Fate’.
There are those who believe,
They are in between material and spiritual life,
The unknown fact for them is,
They live a dual life, one in dream,
Another, a dream about dreams.
Oh’ my life hit the dead end,
Where the dual lives parted ways,
As to a passion lost,
The ways to bind two lives together,
And dreams and the dream about dreams,
Way back in my past days.
The calendar smiles with a new number,
Time, like a monster goes around then come around,
The twists and turns burns down to mere events,
Passing by with little impact upon time,
And time chases like an avenging warrior;
And dug up from the grave of dreams,
That old passion and up in the horizon left,
And that passion lingers like a thunder cloud,
Covering every other feeling away,
Life in simplicity,
Gathering events for a sad memoir.