Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Time's a bitch

time mends not the heart
nor the head
nor the cadence
nor brings back the dead

it shelters not my soul
nor my past
nor my future
nor keeps first from last

i seek it
on my hand
the walls on my brain
the sand in the bottle
and the light of the day

"you will never get her back,"
time tells me
and my heart stops
and my soul bleeds
all so fast, and I,
I move from first to last

adt
short hills, nj

Copyright 2010 all rights reserved arpit d. trivedi

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Perpetuity

no sound, no solace
no wave to brush back
no love, no grooming
no shallow cove to round

no moment of standing
no wisp of gross neglect
no spade, no fallow ground
no furtive glance
no admission

no poignant afterglow
no discussion of her absence
no mythical bystander
no solitary soldier

no fortune and no glory
not even a simple hurrah

but then, at the altar
of truth, the phalanx of veiled virtue knows that
what is left is hollow, guiltless
"more to come"
"more of the same"
no reason and certainly no rhyme
no more

adt
short hills, nj

Copyright 2010 all rights reserved arpit d. trivedi