sometimesihatemycat

There is a violence to telling time
The winding up
The counting down
The second hand stomping around
Yelling
And slamming itself into the next
Black…hash…mark
A metronome
Except
For its massacre of pushing past
That last moment
Left too soon
Gone and dead
A constant monster moving
Without flinching
Stalking and continuing
To echo aching in my head
Maniacally compelling me

TO

HUR

RY

UP

AND

GET

THINGS

DONE

It’s too damned late
I sat so long and stupidly
Shocked still
By what’s in front of me
I should have moved
And acted quick
Before the final

TOCK

and

TICK

-a.r.

~ by April on November 4, 2015.

Posted in Death, Humanity, Meditation, Poetry
Tags: Alive, Anatta, Anicca, anxiety, Clock, Death, Dukkha, Fear, Impermanence, Life, meditation, now, poetry, present moment, Time