The Clock

Limitless, intangible…

raging yet patient…

time is infinite.


The continuation of;

never failing to exist.


Yet time becomes limited,

forcing us to rush ourselves –



Never ending, boundless time,

yet no time to be wasted.


Time stands still

but remains continuous,

hour by hour…

Continue reading The Clock


Poetry Is…

Poetry is alive and well,

what helps you experience the seasons,

helps you realize you fell

for that boy – all the wrong reasons.


Poetry is an escape route –

when you are lost, it is a trustworthy guide.

For all the times you drown in doubt,

it is a quiet friend in which you confide.


Poetry is in the streets,

it can be seen in every face…

an artist’s greatest defeats,

her mind immersed in deep space.


Set over the atmosphere, a subtle gloom

where we produce in the way we consume.


(Inspired by quotes from Matty Healy, The 1975)

Some Inferences

My energy is being wasted;

your time and efforts are somewhere else.

I feel emptied of emotion

when you are somewhere else.


What happens when your mind isn’t on me?

Is it on someone else?

Who could possibly fill my absence?

Does your heart feel for someone else?