The Gauntlet of Time

Incisor

         Gauntlet’s thrown

Trails beyond the coil’s might

Tightly strung is carnelian’s light

         Trans-lucent milky

The crystals made from chalcedony

Impostor, so be found, deep inside, shies the arch of trothed pass

         To one’s self, insolence retraced,

                  The fiend, which feasts on veils of glass

Is nothing more than a past-life erased

Tapestries fade

And new draperies take their place

Time’s sand sifts though

But only if you forget to reverse its flow

Hour-Glass of Sorrow

Somehow we’ve been altered, the glow has faded

Pauses linger, as the space between grows,

Lips delay the words their day

I’m left mute, since the 

Swirl of the recall

All the minutes

Spent loving

You

Sorrow

Passing through

Oak frames, supporting

 Glassy chambers-above, below

Unified, unyielding flow, gravity connects

 Two opposites as one, Cylindrically processing

The Granularity of quicksand’s placated disparity, until,

Shifting, sifting, quickly drifting, transforming spatiality into Void

The Sans of Time

The sans of time

Grow arid, it does seem,

Void of all the subtle things,

To rest your hope in but one design

Seems to me a waste of time,

 All your life you’ve sought for answers

From questions posed in gossip columns,

You truly are a charitable and giving soul,

Offering everything and bestowing plenty more,

But what’s the point, laboring about in fruitless fields,

Where the only harvest will be thanklessness and callous insensitivity?

You’re heart has never been the organ in which we question,

If only your head be nudged in the right direction,

There is merit in much of what you attempt to say and do,

But it’s the choices made that defy all reason,

Instead of focusing your efforts on the poor or sick,

You’re using logic on the mentally ill,

 Explaining rational thought, and

Trying to teach the constructs of free will,

When dealing with the sans of time,

Like the hourglass, it will run dry,

Moisten your palms, lest I fear, you’ll go without,

As sand does sift, so do the grains of life