Sunday, December 6, 2015

Tick tock

Tick Tock
by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)



Tick tock
the clock

till doom?

No room
or time
to doubt
a hope so blue
as the sky
so high
and a sun
so bright,

while the earth
rocks
and the sea
shocks man's hearts
till dark comes:

a dad 'gainst son;
moms like ships
with no docks.

Her breeds?

Freed cats
with no fields to roam.

Where is the moon?

Why do our stars
guide our lives
as if this day
is our last?

Shine false dim light
that cause long nights
of pain;

heads that crave meds
that shoot through thin veins;
then sad young lives
to dead?

These blown seeds
do breeze
long ways from trees
that shade;

from leaves
and bark
grown
tall and strong;

from 
wise words--
streams that run
clear and pure.

Did they not know
they would come to harm?

Why on the page
that speaks of peace
yet from new's lips
a war still kills?

Yes, deeds we see
shows hate at will.

Red ink
stains the hands
that hold the pen
that claims
fame
to past peace pacts

but heals
Not
the skins of
meek men
who live the law
and talk to God.

Where are kind souls
that kiss all--
the whole?

Lost in a cave;
a grave to right
and true?

To those who
trust
a book
found
bold; old,
but new
and
who love the truth?

No,
sword will not win.

No man will end
Judge.

A long time grudge
and blood spilled in rage
will not budge
the Just King
who reigns.

The time is short
for works in vain;

though thought:
"these words
are not from
sane

minds.

They are the chains that bind.

A chance to gain a prize
worth gold--no end to life
on earth be told?

Sure...Not!"

"A fool" they say
of those who pray.

Yet, where
are their 'keys'
to End our pain
and stress
with ease?

Tick tock the clock
for all men's woes.

Good news to some.

All hearts that want it
need eyes
not guns.

Need to read;
Not
be told

A tale
not real.

Let not your pearl
of sure dear worth
to thieves do hold

to sale for dirt
which dulls your shine,
your goals
mere mirth.

No more to birth
a child of yours.

Tick tock the clock.

A bless? ... A curse?