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Sand sifting gently through my fingers,
A dedicated time ‘til my body lingers.
Oh, to know the smell of the center of your hand,
To see into those eyes -
To feel those sighs.

Sometimes I don’t think I can wait
But then it’s too late.
How can all this be real
When I’ve not even a finger to feel?
Visions of heart – remembering soul –
Up to now that is all that I know.
I'm lost in this moment,
Chained to the sweet torment.
Inside a fire is burning
Hotter than hell – so full of yearning.

Maybe the wrong place -
Maybe the wrong time.

Is it a crime
To watch the sand as it falls?
Measuring time ‘til my body lingers
And I have you - lost in my fingers.
There is no such thing as time until you find love.
Leslie Ledezma May 2017
The timeless evening
with stars drooping down to see
you and your dignified strangeness
Life was blind, life was kind

You burnt my time, made it disappear
Recall how you looked, what silvery words you used
Enigmatic, glowing soul
Dr Zik Apr 2017
Link between my soul and body is temporary
So my pangs of life are mortal
Link between my soul and You is immortal
As You and Your link is time-less.
Link, mortal, mortality, temporary, immortal, soul
Miranda Mar 2017
I've learned that Time is only the indication of one thing: Time.
It determines the seconds, minutes, hours as they pass
But it can't determine the rate at which a person falls.

First sight;

first smell;

first touch
,
Important factors in the drop.

First laugh;

first kiss;

first hug,

Time doesn't get to determine how quickly he learns to make your heart stop.

I've always had these rules because Time told me they were right.

"Can't eat until that time."

"Can't shower until this time."

Can't give my heart away to a man after 28 days
Because Time claims, 'Too soon.'

But Time doesn't see the details.
It can't stop it's ticker, pause,
and see the way his hands make your body quiver.
No,
time doesn't get to take a break
to feel the way his eyes gaze at you
as if he has never seen anything more beautiful.
And time can't feel the breath your lungs take
at the simple sight of him.

I've always had these rules because Time told me they were necessary.
And when he told me of the love he felt after 21 days,
I looked to time who yelled,
"Too soon, too soon, too soon, he can't possibly feel that now."
But then I look at him
and I can see the way he looks at me.
I get to feel the gentleness of his touch
and the intensity of his kiss.
Time can only pass.
And I've realized that time will pass,
whether you let yourself fall too soon
or if you allow the passing minutes
to inform you of when it's okay to start loving someone.
Time can only indicate the time.
Time counts the seconds.
But time does not get to tell me when it's okay to feel anymore.
Andrei Marin Mar 2017
The universe in a cup,
Raise it to your lip,
Sing a note of silence,
Then take a timeless sip.
As a theophile, tea is an important part of my life; with each sip of good tea feeling timeless.
Nic Sutcliffe Feb 2017
How might he sing of this Queen that he found
Of their trip through the stars
Of the sights and the sounds
The soft subtle glow from her sun-kissed skin
Her Magic and rhythm that oozed from within
Of Holding her close, getting lost in her eyes
The lattice of limbs, the world passing by

Much more to this union than physics and heat
Their mind-space meeting place first of all treats
Hard to face truths they would tackle as one
Before all that JuJu had even begun

There in those convos through hours unfolding
A Lucid flowetry & neither witholding
She opened her heart up revealing her past
Her Darkness and Strengths
A history so vast

The degree of compassion and comprehension
Served as a softener, negating all tension
And he, he felt worthy, enough for a tear
To receive all she was
Dark and Light
Love and Fear

Pickled perspectives through dilated seers
Dissolving of egos & bringing forth tears
Humbly he knelt, for in him she would trust
Honouring intention
And Self
Before lust

Digesting their truths on candle light beams
Backing track soundscapes of finish him themes
Magnetic her radiance, a colourwheel aura
Bodies' bouquet, scents sweeter than flora
Skin to skin textures their grip free to roam
Tastes of pure Stardust
Her flavour was... Home

A moment removed from time's ceaseless pace
Light breaking birdsong, Love dripped from her face
The world switched on and began it's routine
While Awestruck he witnessed this manifest dream
Cat cursed yet tireless he played to her choir
Their Synchronous vibrations raised forever higher

There's never before been, nor again will there be
A woman of resonance as Perfect as she
Subjectively perfect, Ubiquitous truth
Yet how we see perfect requires no proof
All of his senses Peaked & Saturated
All his Desires
In this Queen concentrated

Once in a lifetime the lucky may find
A someone of substance who stimulates the mind
Once in a lifetime the lucky may be
With One who cultivates a compatible energy
Once in a lifetime the lucky may hold
The attention and Love of their true Twin Soul

But the idea that One girl could be all this and more
A concept so enticing he just can't ignore

The poetry of Presence
The Nourishment of Osmosis
The Freedom of the Eternal Now
She's Imperfectly Perfect
She's Perfectly Imperfect
His Queen Supreme
I battled to finish this one... I hope you Enjoy it my fellow magicians
Douglas Scheurn Oct 2016
Ten million bombs,
In an organism,
Single of cell.

The nucleus becomes nuclear,
The ironic cliche.
Instructions to life is unclear,
Resurrection per touch'e.

The ground breaks and falls away,
Supernatural universe all around you,
Leading yourself away,
Venomous vapor clouds you pass through.

Written texts whisper secrets,
"They're secrets for none exist to hear it!"

Ink fills the veins in challenge,
Blood carresses the paper before you,
Eyes stare in mallace,
Rebellion is the potential in truth,

The light dims as you suffocate the beautiful lie.
Thirteen dice becames synchronized with your soul,
Chances are you will die,
Before your art feeds your home.

As sad as this is,
It brings us boundless joy.

From the darkest possible chasm,
Ascends our Chrystal-Rift ******.
Aaron LaLux Oct 2016
On a trip,
to Thailand,
from Egypt,
to an island,

had a layover in Dubai,
so I decided to visit a friend,
a beautiful traveler such as myself,
in Dubai the Hyatt was her residence,

I got off my flight,
and cleared customs,
took the Metro to Palm Deira,
then emerged into the thick Emirates air,

felt like I’d emerged into a tide pool,
the air was damp and salty,
as if I’d submerged my whole body,
into summer sun heated waters,

walked a long short walk to the hotel,
and entered the oversized lobby,
Dubai lives off of air conditioning,
and the climate control was welcoming,

my friend came down to meet me,
dressed as beautiful as ever,
a flight attendant she was very attentive,
we hugged and she invited me to the rooftop pool,

on the rooftop I changed into my swimming trunks,
because even though it was just I layover,
I bring my trunks with me everywhere,
because you never know when you’re gonna swim,

she stayed poolside,
gazed at me apparently amused,
after a quick dip I emerged refreshed,
toweled off and we talked,

she asked me why I write,
she asked me what my goal was,
I told her I didn’t know why I write,
or really what my goal was,

she pressed on,
and insisted there must be a reason,
so I answered her question,
with the following reasoning,

“I guess I write,
so that our collective humanity,
has some sort of documentation,
of our emotional history.
But I don’t have a goal,
and I am not flattered when people compliment my work,
because I don’t really consider my writings mine,
I consider them the world’s.
So when some says my writing saved their life,
I feel awkward because God wrote it not me,
still I say thank you because I don’t know what else to say.
The books I’ve written are bigger than me,
millions of people have read the poems I’ve penned,
but most people that that have read my poems,
wouldn’t recognize me on the street if they walked past me,
see it’s not me they know it’s the writing I’ve written,
which means readers think they know me,
but they don’t know me at all.”

There’s a moment of silence,
on that rooftop,
all the lights of Dubai,
reflecting in her dark molasses eyes,

and I ask this,

“Do you ever feel trapped?”

She seems a bit perplexed by the question.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,
here you are,
in The Emirates.
You are constantly on call for an airline,
you could be called to go any minute,
so you’re in a constant state of defense.
Plus,
this whether,
I mean,
it’s unbearably hot here,
and people here are completely dependent on A/C,
plus there are cameras everywhere always watching,
and to open almost any door here you need a key,

it seems there’s so much security that nothing and no one is free.”

“No I don’t feel trapped.”

Her answer comes too fast,
as if she doesn’t want to take the time to think about it,
and speaking of time,
my flight to Thailand is quickly approaching.

I change out of my shorts,
put my ‘normal’ clothes back on,
khaki shorts and navy shirt,
so that I can cruise through without being bothered,

but I am bothered,
because I can’t even touch her,
this is Dubai and despite the pretty lights,
this place is not Liberal it’s Conservative Islam,

and everything is forbidden.

We make our way across the rooftop poolside,
walking on plastic grass under canvas canopies,
we get to the outside door she slides her plastic key card,
and we enter back into the climate controlled insides,

we reach the elevator,
she taps her key card again,
the elevator opens,
and we start to descend,

inside the lift I can’t help myself,
she’s too attractive,
so I try to place a kiss on her shoulder,
she pulls away.

“Aaron no!”

“What?”

“We can’t,
not here,
I can get in trouble,
seriously.”

She nods discretely to the close captioned camera,
recording our every movement in the corner,
I guess the only thing we can exchange here is glances,
the system still hasn’t found a way to stop us from making eye contact,

and eye contact is the only contact we’re allowed to make,
everything else is forbidden,
heck they’d probably even outlaw looks if they could,
the elevator opens,

we’re back in the lobby,
she offers to walk me to the metro,
I obviously accept her offer,
I would accept any offer she ever gave me,

We emerge back into that thick Emirate air,
that damp and salty tide pool,
back into that traffic and incessant noise,
back into the smell of the fruits of the sea,

I ask her why it smells so much like fish out there,
she tells me there’s a fish market across the street,
she tells me the Pakistanis shove fish in her face during the say,
and have absolutely no respect for personal space.

we reach the doors of the metro station,
already we can feel the cool artificial A/C breeze,
and I’m again reminded how fake this city is,
fake people fake air fake grass fake plastic trees,

seems she’s the only thing real here,
and we are about to say goodbye,
we hug quickly before we depart,
don’t want to catch the attention of the camera’s eye,

she waives goodbye,
as I descend back down the escalator,
I want to tell her that I don’t like goodbye waives,
because that’s exactly what I saw before I lost my sister,

in other words the last time I ever saw my little sister,
was when she waived goodbye to me,
before she drowned in the fish pond,
actually that’s the only memory I have of my sister,

but that’s another story for another day,
that’s a different trip entirely,
that’s something that happened long ago,
something that now’s a distant memory,

anyways that’s why I wanted to tell the girl in Dubai,
“Please don’t waive goodbye,
because that makes me worried,
that we’ll never see each other again.”,

but it was too late,
the hands of time had already pushed us away,
the escalator was already creating too much space between us,
I guess I can hope that we’ll see each other again in another time and place,

but for now,

I’m on a trip,
to Thailand,
from Egypt,
to an Island,

and the planes coming,
and it’s almost time to board,
and you can’t go back to a passed moment,
because the only constant is change and the only direction is forward,

so be forewarned,
if you love someone tell them right then,
because even when things are just beginning,
everything and every one is only a moment from the very end…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
A lesson in Time and a Reminder to Love
Oriada Dajko Oct 2016
An old house sounds proud of
disturbing neighborhood's sight.
Punished to follow lonely fate...
to feel a strong desire for transformation,
but a house can't move, can not speak,
a building lives in feeling isolation.

Not guilty,they persuade life from childhood,
waiting for others to remember them.
Doing nothing to change,
waiting for others to decide
if their life will be
or won't be timeless inside.

They listen to other people's voice,
no way to defend them from the noise.
Not expecting to hear sadness or offense.
Probably they don't have a luxe
to have a chance.
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