Friday, 24 April 2009
Time,Dali, and Juvenilia.
Time is something that eludes
During Nocturnes and Preludes
Papa I cry Chopin...did he know?
Like Dali on whom it'd grow
Like a moustache with a mission
Time is a smelly emission.
Time is a tantalising tarantula
Which traps the crap of generations past
Time at last with the last teardrop
Time for some soda ginger pop.
Ma! I cried, I'm so terrible with time
Worse than with metaphor or rhyme.
Time for you and time for me...
Or Eliot's time, diffused with glee
Ominous time, wasted vastness
Dwelling in now is dwelling in pastness.
Everything I do tells me I'm so bad at it.
Everything the world does, I'm just mad at it.
Time for murder, time to die
Time to droop, time to fly.
Time to cry and time to kill.
Time is just a career skill.
And with that pearl of wisdom told
My time's ending-may yours unfold.
In fact, as this time begins one time does end.
My time's an enemy; is yours a friend?
I don't think any time can be.
I think my time. Is. Just. Me.
Darn- what lazy lameness lies here!
I want Dunhill& Bitter Strong Beer.