I measured out the moments, one by one and piece by piece
Too many to count and too many to be dismissed.
Life slips by in those imperceptible increments,
And now I’ve lost the numbers so how will I know
When the sands have run out and I can no longer account
For the seconds left in the reckoning. It’s anyone’s guess.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
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Besteesydian
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Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
what’s with you and tags….”death” ….and how ecumenical you bracket this verse with “life” …”It’s anyone’s guess.” is a punch line betrayed…now if I ran across some poesy with the tag…”expiry” the reader becomes the hammer, not the nail… you’re a much better poet…word slinger, than you know…
Regards,
Pastoral In Chicago
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I just write. I don’t think about it too much except when something doesn’t feel right. I really hadn’t intended on publishing this piece yet. It needs finishing.
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Not my point, painted toes. The poem is fine, and speaks well to an unfortunate universal. My beef is, the tags tip your hand, and act as tells to the reader…trust them to read the cards you deal, or to not.
Regards,
The Moose Puppy Walker
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Ah ha! I never even read tags! I thought they just helped people find topics through search engines.
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If I might be so presumptuous:
Poem 12-4-14
Line by line
to pronounce and parse…
Yes, but.
I read not, the poem,
I overhear the poet
a colloquy of an unconscious conspiracy,
I suspect…
This semi-scripted eavesdrop
a listen in,
to a well routed happenstance,
hopefully
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Sweet!
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