it is time

The clock strikes the hour

slapping her sharply across the face,

admonishing her precision;

her steadfast requirement to record

each and every second.

Never looking back,

the metronome of her heart

keeps her dutiful march steady

as she leaves history in her wake.

Her divine potentiality,

kinetically buoyant.

Its creation equal

to its destruction.

She waits

for no-one.

Time waits

for no one.

No queues

or overtaking masses.

Mankind scared

to look her in the eye,

scared to take hold

of her ticking hand,

for he will find it empty.

Empty of everything.


but for this moment.


Slave to the rhythm

Slave to the mind

Slave to the fears

That riddle mankind


Slave to the caress

Slave to the touch

Slave to the feel

That exquisite crutch


Slave to the ego

Slave to the goal

Slave to the doubt

That unconscious toll


Slave to the minutes

Slave to the clock

Slave to the time

That mental gridlock

Only so much thinking


We’ve thought ourselves into a corner

Got ourselves in a really tight bind

By believing we know all the answers

That we can implement change, with our mind


Society is festering, in stagnation

Beyond the hype, there is rot at its core

Our days of denial are numbered

Our shelf-life, is indefinite no more


There really is, only so much thinking

That can carry, the almighty weight

Of the lumbering, half-asleep masses

Who must be woken, before it’s too late


To take stock of their need to accumulate

To displace their own feelings of guilt

Which ironically create far more problems

In this foundation-less world we have built


Who are they, banking all of the billions?

That are bringing this world to its knees

To whom do we owe all this money?

It’s time to reveal, the greedy loanees


We all have a choice not to follow

But it requires us to face our worst fear

And to see that it’s all an illusion

When we do that, it will all disappear