Count Down
by: S. Cone

Tic..........Tic........
A blink faster than the speed of light
For sometimes it seems like
I can't even tie my shoe
No time to breathe
Or even to see if the sky is still blue.

So, I stop....
To think things through,
But I still don't have a clue
What am I to do?

Time has run out!

What is One to Do?

by: S. Cone (my son)

Crazy.........Wild.........Out of control

As it breathes endlessly, what is one to do?

Enlightening us....we....I......

Trying to find the way, black mist eludes us.

For we have no life, but yet we stand here.

How?

The time still ticks on .....

For what is one to do.....

Dusk is soon approaching. The evening sun not as hopeful as the morning dew. There is a calmness, stillness on the earth. The crimson sky stained with the events of the day. The sun looking as if it's turning it's back on the world. Digressing momentarily to another space and returning with a new perspective. Time's illusional and deceitful. Un-guardable, the night season emerges. The moon itself has a seductive quality. It's hard to see for the unknown, but the intensity is swollen. The summer's night air is tepid and moist, sweet to the lips, a reprieve from the bitterness of winter. The days won't cease moving in one direction, it forces action--to taste this moment. Submerging in today, covered with enough love to satisfy, enough strength to hold, enough joy to be full and enough courage to wait--until tomorrow.

Treasure

someone to love you

the way you desire to be loved

loving them the way

they desire to be loved

hidden, until you

reach to find it

Hammy Down Love

Hammy down shoes
Hammy down clothes
Hammy down dolls, a
Hammy down bike, even a
Hammy down bed

Not the oldest
Not the baby
Not even in the middle
Not the only boy
Not the only girl
Not the tallest
Not the fairest
Not the cutest
Not the brightest

Hammy down time
Hammy down space
Hammy down love

I'll buy my own,
New shoes
New clothes
New toys
New cars

I'll adorn,
My short legs
My small feet
My brown skin and
My mind

Born out of season
I'll make my own space in time
Search for my own love

Words, faithful
Cleft for me
Words, tapestry
Cover me
Words, symbolic
Shield me
Words, unchanging
Speak to me
Words
A refuge
Words
Strength

Miles of terrain stand between today and tomorrow.
The internal compass is broken.
Soulish pride won't permit an enquiry
Of the Urim and Thummim.

The soles of the feet ache from previous conquest.
The body's tattered, worn from the load of the sun.
Although the clouds appear supernatural
There is no shadow in sight.

There is a breeze stirring.
Enough to acknowledge the Spirit's presence.
But nothing to testify about.

Hush! Listen for
A going in the top of the mulberry trees.

uncovered exposed

hidden exploited protected

NAKED CLOTHED bare

cold WARM FRIGHTENED

BOLD lonely comforted

broken WHOLE afraid

FEARLESS HUNGRY satisfied

Negative thoughts flood invading the mind working consistently building a kingdom out of the fibers that bind the psyche. They work meticulously like wasp. Their lines fuse together not to divulge their origin. The damage is unnoticeable, hidden, until it visibly spews out on the breath. Dis-confirmation creeps in at dark through the back door and in the morning displays the prey caught in the intricate net of deceit. Ignoring the devourers trap is costly. The zombied look in the eyes and dribbling lips mark the level of deterioration. Then comes the hysteria followed by the hallucinations told on stammering lips.

Masquerade Ball

A carnival intended for the fortunate. All other attendees merely spectators or servants. The lady in the feathered hat makes a grand entrance. Pretending to desire to be left unnoticed, please!, that hat could stand on its own. The orchestra plays familiar tunes, as with all of these events it's about making the privileged comfortable. The choice of costume speaks a lot about a person. The inner self has a way of always slipping through the cracks. Tonight is her night to shine. To come behind the shadows and live like the little girl playing dress up in her mother's clothes, finding the old costume jewelry in the attic and the boa in the trunk. Until the clock strikes twelve and her carriage turns back into a pumpkin, but not before she meets her Prince Charming. And in the morning light after they have fallen in love with the evenings mask they discover that they are only truly exposed when covered.

New Sky

New Sky

Today the clouds are rolling quickly
As if they are in a hurry
Maybe they have a place in another sky
Appointed to cover another sun
If I could leap and grab hold of one
Maybe they would take me too

Time has a way of taking care of things, even desires. The body must exhaust itself and then the soul gives up, unwillingly, but nevertheless accepts defeat. She considers herself cured. She lectures herself like a Sunday school teacher. She makes herself busy during the day and at night she waits until she is utterly without strength hoping she will be too tired to dream. Trying to control a mind that has run a way like a highjacked train is almost impossible. She must beat it! The soul is a different story it's faculties run deep. It must be convinced it's behavior is foolish in order for pride to take control. And of course the flesh will become humbled from denial.

According to the experts dreams are the creation of our subconscious. Whenever this body of flesh rest, the mind continues to work. If this is true, then the mind, a faculty of the soul, stores and records all of life's events and the emotions that come along with them. It is in the sleep that they are revisited and put on display like the unlocked trunks from the attic spread out on the front lawn for a yard sale. The soul is trying to rid itself, but sometimes it's hard for the mind to let go of it's memorabilia.

Trumpet Vine

Life can travel in all directions intertwining the past with the present. Things happen in seasons. There's a time to bloom and a time to be pruned. No one likes the pruning stage. Standing there butchered like a chicken with a bad haircut for all to see and mock as if their time isn 't coming. Judgement is not without consequences. Afterwhile the vine overtakes the ground and the picket fence; yet without any evidence of flowering. Then the hummingbirds come to blow the sounds of nectar.