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Created on: July 22, 2011
Knock On Nine
There it stops,
hanging over the waiting stroke
but never falling,
never striking.
Locked between eight and nine
like a cobra undecided.
Undecided!
That lord between if or that,
the law of spite
a varicose lay by...
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Poetry: No time
Time cannot be lost
Just simply forgotten
After hour and after day
We strive on, downtrodden
Walking past the past
Unto
I took time for granted
because I'd invented
a clever little machine.
Painstakingly painted
a pitiful patchwork
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Unbound
Who has got the time to think?
There are dishes in the sink
And laundry on the brink
Of becoming quite a
I reflect on memories of the past
I realize there is no time
To absently waste our tomorrows
To look for what we can not find
Knowing
EPIC GLORY
There is no time
for the mind
to whisper in silence
crouched
in anticipation
for flight
and to do
what no man
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