Space flies

Space flies

If time can no longer be spent
What is left to do right now
Whilst contemplating the future?

Accordingly it stops approaching
Until I’ve sorted out my life
And spent all my hard-earned money.

Turning around at this juncture
Opens more questions than it closes
The past can fend for itself.

Instead I cleanse myself of resentment
And pay hommage to its acts
Having kept me burning bridges.

From here then, I’m frozen in time
Until I’ve sorted out my life
And spent all my hard-earned space.

Domestication

Domestication

You’re too cold sometimes
Blinding me to the chances
You’ll ever give my soul
The gentle, warm-handed massage
It tends to want to need

But that may not be it
Or at least not all
What if there’s suffering
Involved in finding out
Is it worth our while

You need a person
And I need a horse
You’re wild and untamed
And I seem capable
Of fulfilling that role

Speaking of such
I admit I have a whip
But not that I use it
Except perhaps on me
When I find myself asking

Those same questions again
Should I stop it here
Although more often why
Would I not resolve this
Like I do other problems

Thing is this
I lose interest
And gain lethargy
In a cycle
Time is but a mediator.