Can you keep time?

 Trapped around my

Head I can’t get out

Of my nose, it’s blocked

And the swelling’s endless

And my sides are tingling

And I’m sweating

And my feet are tingling

And I’m sweating

And my hands are scribbling

Though my arms are weary and

I’m fed up although there’s

A blind man sitting next to me.

 

Time says, What’s the matter?

Now is not a fixed abode

It doesn’t have a key or boast

A chaise longue, commode or

Even a settee.  Yes, it rocks on

The veranda and whistles through

The trees, it shows the clock in the

Hall is wrong and the one by

The bed agrees with whatever they say on TV.

 

 

But beyond the tick-tock, Time is not

Governed by the fixed beat any more than

My heartbeat is steady when a car beeps

Or dog dies or bird barely misses me, Time

Moves on and its pace is beyond rhyme,

There is no such thing as good or bad Time,

It is the currency with which we

Live and we must use it wisely, i.e

Neither squander, nor hoard

Savour every drop, wherever it may fall.

Heavy Lullaby

Take me over the hill

A round juice-step

Or two, through

The windows of Time

Up the road past

A church burnt out

And shaken by

Bells louder than

Air pounding the aged drum of

Past.

 

Kick me, the meat, now

Hanging low and

Ripe, ready to

Fall with my weight

Of blood,

Resound through

Space. The weight

Of me dropping,

Dead round slab

On the cold floor

Of Day in the

Warm blood of

 Night.