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Life in an Hourglass

Author: Porcelaine
ASL Info:    27/F/Croatia
Elite Ratio:    3.9 - 880 /703 /256
Words: 179
Class/Type: Poetry /Serious
Total Views: 1667
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 1369


Life in an Hourglass


The our 'above' shivers with confiscated sadness,
Gloats in its vociferous madness
And laughs at us

We are the concubines to the wind,
The century-graced grains of sand
And we roll over...above and beneath our deserts
That deceive us with their mirages of 'be'-ing

We dream of flying
And sometimes cross our dunes to find again
A cry in the bleeding monotony of time
That keeps us still in an hourglass

Visions of the future dance in the heat
Of our self-forged playgrounds and ballrooms
Winding and twisting in on themselves
As far as the dreamer's vistas may go

In our bowl of vexed consciousness
The awaiting masses of tresholds form battalions
Of aspired spirituality, individuality, sensuality...
Figments of thought in broken pieces of reality

We wander around the puzzles
Composed of trillions everforming members
At every step of the segregated ground
We stumble and fall before we can be lifted

The our 'above' shivers with confiscated sadness,
Gloats with its vociferous madness
And laughs at us


Submitted on 2009-08-11 06:53:50     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  This is so profound and deeply philosophical; also brilliant.

We mortals may be created in the image of God, and we strive to be Godlike, only to find that we cannot fly and are confined to finite knowledge and mortal punity! Even in loving me manage poorly, except in those instances of unconditional love that only mothers seem capable of providing to fortunate offspring.

Nice work Sandra!
| Posted on 2010-05-02 00:00:00 | by Ron Cole | [ Reply to This ]
  "concubines to the wind, century-graced grains of sand" ... I marvel at your ability to capture such simple words and put them together in such a beautiful way.
Took a couple of reads... but well worth it.
This has the feel of a vagabond roaming the desert in search for snow... for answers to all the questions of life's quandary. Bowing to the hands of time. Sometimes being fooled into thinking he's in control.

The photo goes really well with the poem.
| Posted on 2009-08-13 00:00:00 | by Intricate1 | [ Reply to This ]
  You have a gift of putting together complicated thought sometimes using Latinate words not in common use - yet it works so well. In your lines, I often find a wonderful exploration of being. I need to pause again and again, dropping the anchors of my life to let you take me where you will; taking me places I haven't been.
| Posted on 2009-08-12 00:00:00 | by my shadow | [ Reply to This ]

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