Cursed beast

Time, that cursed beast
That makes you trade an ocean
For a muddy pond
Every moment of your life gone too soon
One hundred thousand little deaths a day
And once again tomorrow

We need time

We need time
Time to breathe and time to grow
Time to put things right
Time to kick winter’s wolf from the door
Clear up the mounting leaves of decay
And with a new, unhurried step
Take back all we thought not worth our time

Tomorrow Comes

Watch ticks out it’s time
This day could last a lifetime
Soon tomorrow comes

Magaluf

Every night, a different dream
Threads that bind up and make our waking world
The tall man seeks; the tall man will find you
No matter what dark room you shut yourself in
Father time comes a calling to lay you open
With forgotten emotion
Sharp as steel cooled in mother’s tears
A man cries on the steps of his old university
A girl stops by, concerned –
We’re all living out of time, he says
When old friends meet and reminisce
Book tickets to Magaluf
Two weeks of yesteryear and perhaps forget
We are no longer young

In the moment

How can I be in the moment?
That sentence is replete with error
I can do nothing but be in the moment;
The two are one and the same
Even forgetting this is also in the moment
As completely and utterly as enlightenment
Is non-enlightenment
Thus the sentence is good:
How can I be in the moment?

Not been Now

We can never be anywhere
But the present moment
For when has it ever
Not been Now?

Now to Now

Time, what’s the deal with time? When we fall into the mindset of what could have, or might yet be, we fall into the trap of time. The trap where free spirits such as we mess up our lives, doing somehow worse than we should have done. With the weight of terrible responsibility we criticise our actions in hindsight, we castigate the judgement of others, being different to our own. We reject those things in the world, and in ourselves, which do not correspond to our favoured view. We add 2 and 2 and come up with 7, we acknowledge only that which reinforces the thoughts we want, or fear, to believe. We take the ghost in the machine and torture him, we tear her apart for all the ills we find. It’s my fault, it’s her fault, it’s all gone wrong; life’s not what it’s supposed to be. As if it needs our say so! And all because we believe our story through time. I once was there, now here I am, maybe one day soon life will be better. We dream of heaven and make ourselves a home in hell.

The only answers we will ever find are happening now. That pain, those tears, that sweet regret. That joy, that fear, those anxious butterflies of anticipation. These are all the answers we’ll ever need, for what is – is, and are all that is required. There is no ideal state, no better solution than the one we have right now. So chill, so kick back, or maybe scream and shout. If it’s there it’s needed, no better way could be found for this bright life to find its way, from here to here, from now to now.

Deep Time

Deep time, still time, silent time.
Where the echo of our lives
beats a distant drum,
barely heard now, over the drip, drip,
sigh of wind and steady rhythm of the earth.
Here I’m home and here I’m found.
Never before have I known the joy
of silent mind, enclosing all,
and only here, but it’s ever here,
Where I’m home and where I’m found.

Time

There is no such thing as time,
Just a forward drift of the mind,
Towards a distant goal.

Time goes slow

Time goes slow
When we look to the future,
Wishing we were anywhere but here.
Do we have the resources to fill the space,
Between what is and want we want –
Not by leaving this behind,
But by making now what we want?
It’s harder than you think to stay concentrated, keep yourself entertained,and not simply sleep through the greater part of life.
Try it.

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