Posts tagged ‘Waste’

March 3, 2021

World on a String


Beneath the unforgiving staleness
of the lucky old sun,
on the sunny side
of the empty street,
what’s left of the past dries up
in the heat.
Not far from the wedding chapels
and the sea of fun,
the action drains
into a slum.

It is quieter here,
the people are thinner,
the world’s un-stringed,
and everyone’s a sore winner.
That’s life, frankly sinful: entertaining
the possibility that life might be more
than a series of missed opportunities.

Riding a lukewarm streak
into a lonely road and a memory.
Sensing the disinterest, feeling
my insignificance, made keenly aware,
in a world of burgers and fear,
of my newly minted irrelevance.

Out here, you are nothing
and the past is paste,
as the world’s indifference shifts
into fragmented waste.
From sedentary restlessness
to flaneurial nausea, pursued by
but eluding grace.

Days of futile transit
redefine my sense of wonder.
Manifesting without the emptiness
within, between lesser known ruins,
in a promised wasteland
of lost opportunities.
When I catch myself unawares,
in the November of my years,
I’m hardly even there,
and I have never been so tired
of talking to myself.

March 26, 2015

Drain in Vain

Ballast_NEW

An acute sensation of falling
for and into a black hole:
a soft focus abyss, otherwise known as bliss.
Or a train wreck, carrying hazardous waste,
something I can look forward to
looking back on with distaste.

Constantly fighting funny familiar feelings of futility,
trying to put the brakes on the morbidity,
but it keeps rolling down the line.
And as I watch it disappear,
life as I have long known it,
becomes all the more precious
and acutely defined.

November 11, 2014

Drain the Remains

Drain_0001

Darling, don’t let our love ever die.
Because if it does, I’ll be shattered
by all the time I’ve wasted
keeping it alive.

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September 20, 2014

A Time Less Quality

Time Less
I waited a long time
to be haunted
by what wasn’t wanted.
One experiences a different kind of nostalgia
when one doesn’t ‘change’.
Yet the question is still the same:
how best to squander
the rapidly diminishing time that remains.

February 12, 2014

Moved

I Love You

This death, as opposed to my other deaths,
feels dangerously like spring.
A catastrophic waste of time,
but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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May 2, 2013

Undeliverance

images

Whenever I have such a useless day as this,
which seems to happen often,
I break it down, hour by wasted hour.
I work hard to locate the source of the problem,
and, if possible, blame it on somebody else.

April 26, 2013

View From A Hill

Wasted_0008

I am not yet quite over it.
I am lying down on top of it.
Surveying behind me a wasteland
of dried-up promise.
While the lights below twinkle
with dull mocking uncertainty.
There isn’t much left to look forward to,
and the looking forward of the past has been belied.