[Poem] "Time is the sweetest flower, blossoming"

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Summary: This short poem is kind of about the way that Time speeds us on to our destination. Rather than take the usual poetic approach of time taking away our life, or sucking our souls, or such...that by moving the past until we we are at the present, it helps to create us. The opening was inspired by The Waste Land's opening line about April being the cruelest month in contrast to our usual way of looking at the spring. The rest is a hodge-podge mix of past thoughts and ideas with growth and decay imagery.

Monday, 10 May 2010

(19:49:37 CDT)

[Poem] "Time is the sweetest flower, blossoming"

Time is the sweetest flower, blossoming decay.

Rose petals whither white and ashen,
A sound like waiting falls with them,
Down, to the careful linoleum
Below. Carved and sunny sweet)

The grey years stretch out before
Rivers flow
And down somewhere 'round some Pensacola
A young me fog shaped off color

Waits for this day to come and
, Not knowing any better,
He lies about whom he is
And who he hurt
And fails to say goodbye at
Appropriate times

And all the times he is
Fall, too, whither white and ashen
Into the sand where the sounds glare,
Until all of him is lost in the act
Of finding. There, if anywhere.

If dear friends think about him,
They probably couldn't guess
His exact location
And he rarely thinks of theirs
Deep in and thinking

And somewhere some Mobile, AL is muggy
Old and that younger me is an older
Younger me and that He is dead
And rivers flow
With catfish and barges and sandbars
Smoke and churn
All around him

And straight on through to now,
Meandering some,
A succession of who.

The beach knocks against the waves
And the breeze never stops, there
Next to the tee-shirt shop and beside
The open wall bar with the teenage queen
Three fingers deep in a dream,
The holy-roller spittle specks
And shouts
Hot asphalt barely cooled from the summer
And it's another 8:15.

Mushrooms swell in the dirt disturbing
Leaves in the brown and red Spring
With the dripping sounds from newly leafless
Trees and a scent brings back

Si Vales, Valeo


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Written by Doug Bolden

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