Time Grows Kinder

S. P. Kairk

Description

Poetry written to evoke thought and show you that you aren't alone in the way you feel. Explore the mind of the Author and learn a little about life's changes.
A collection of Poetry that aims to evoke thought, provide relatability and show that time can heal. The poems vary on topics from life and death, to love, to society and more. The powerful imagery will immerse you in the worlds and situations of each poem. Written in life as views have changed and people have grown, This collection aims to show that times may be terrible but things will get better as years go by. Join the writer on his journey and lose yourself in their mind as you progress in your own life

Sujets

• Santé et bien-être
• Développement personnel
• Philosophy
• Emotion
• Poetry
• Dark
• Society
• Emotional
• Love
• Life

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris AU
• Date de parution: 24 février 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669832171
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Time Grows Kinder
S. P. Kairk

Copyright © 2022 by S. P. Kairk.
 
Library of Congress Control Number:
2022918092
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-3218-8

Softcover
978-1-6698-3216-4

eBook
978-1-6698-3217-1
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Rev. date: 10/05/2022
 
 
 
 
 
Xlibris
AU TFN: 1 800 844 927 (Toll Free inside Australia)
AU Local: [phone] ([phone] from outside Australia)
www.Xlibris.com.au
846623
CONTENTS
True Pain
The Time Tolls For Us All
Pain Doesn’t End
A Different Beauty
The Abyss
Rainy Day
Home Sweet Home
No Title
The Luddite
The Goodbye
Cut
The Blade
Be You
Dual Minds
The Genius
Morning
The Master’s End
The Master’s End: Part 2
The Master’s End: The Final Chapter
The Winged Warrior
My Lover
Empty Bottles for Empty Actions
Piercing Eyes
Dreaming
Roses
The Pen
Think More
A Mistress Called Pain
A Day of Golden Honey
A Time
Explode
Shaped
Overnights
If I Die Tomorrow
Existence
Decisions
The Shifting of Days
He of Paradox
Surfacing Changes
Complete Dislocation
Gentle Voice in Disturbed Valleys
Sleepless Questioning
Worth
Wasted
My Contempt
Fearless
Someday
Lifeless
All That I’ve Done
The Life of Richard Mimosa
Of Man, Mountains, and Dragons (Reflections)

For those who believed in me when
I didn’t believe in myself.
Thank you all.
TRUE PAIN
What does
True pain
Feel like?
Some say
It is
A sharp
Stabbing sensation.
Others
A hot,
Dull
Feeling.
True pain
Is neither.
True pain
Is a
Numbness,
An emptiness,
Nothingness.
To feel
Detached
From all,
To feel
Like you’re
A lonely
Stone
In the
Streams
Of life.
To feel
Meaningless,
To feel
Duty-less,
To feel
Misunderstood
But most
Of all
To feel
Isolated.
To feel
All the good
That you’ve
Done is
Outweighed
By a few
 
Bad
Days.
To die
A thousand
Times.
That is
True pain.
THE TIME TOLLS FOR US ALL
The clock tolls
One.
A man
Sits on the
Cliff edge.
Contemplating
As men do.
All that
Is.
All that
Was.
All that
Will be.
 
The clock tolls
Two.
The man
Rises.
His feet.
Bloody,
Overworked.
He thinks
Of his
Family,
His friends,
His mistakes.
 
The clock tolls
Three.
The man weeps.
Weeps for
His children,
His broken
Promises
How much
They’ve grown.
 
The clock tolls
Four.
He paces
Back and forth.
Wonders about
The pieces.
The failed
Relationships,
The petty
Fights,
The silly
Little things.
 
The clock tolls
Five.
Ring, ring
Ringing
In his
Clattered mind.
 
The clock tolls
Six.
He screams
To the heavens
For a sign.
An empty
Sky.
No reply.
 
The clock tolls
Seven.
The man
Feels forsaken.
Unwanted.
Unknown.
Ignored.
Useless.
 
The clock tolls
Eight.
The man
Looks to the
Skies.
Admires the
Beauty
Of the night.
The stars.
The moon.
The silence.
 
The clock tolls
Nine.
The man
Pleas to
God one
Last
Time.
Nobody responds.
He comes
Closer to
The edge.
 
The clock tolls
Ten.
The man
Stares into
The abyss.
The unknown.
The blackness
At the base
Of the cliff.
He thinks
Of his
Loved ones
One
Last
Time.
 
The clock tolls
Eleven.
He steps
Over
The
Edge.
 
The clock tolls
Twelve.
A disfigured
Body
Lies on
Jagged rocks
At the bottom.
Nobody saved.
Nobody knows.
Nobody cares.
PAIN DOESN’T END
The Pain
That never
Ceases.
A wound
That doesn’t
Mend.
Time heals
All,
Isn’t that
What they
Say?
Why do
We still
Feel it?
We take
In so
Much
That it’s
Never truly
Gone.
All of this
Regret.
More time,
More memories,
More hollow
Thoughts.
Another bullet
In your
Head.
They attempt
To patch
You up,
Say you’re
Repaired.
But all
You feel
Is
Dead.
Think.
If pain
Never ends,
Then why
Do we
Live?
It’s to
Build,
Create character.
Make yourself
Something more
Than a
Blank canvas.
To not make
The same
Mistakes.
To tell
Stories,
Warn others
Of danger.
We live
Not for
Ourselves,
But rather
Those we
Love.
Because
Without us
They’d be
Lost.
So take
Your full
Head and
Share.
So your
Child
Isn’t fooled
By a
Silly
Dare.
A DIFFERENT BEAUTY
Beauty. If you asked me what it was as a child, I would have told you the people are beautiful. As a teenager, music was beautiful. From my twenties to forties, nature was true beauty. But today these all seem dim in comparison to my mother. She was truly beautiful. Not physically. Her nurturing nature, undying love, and unfathomable generosity are what made her beautiful. She loved me like no other. My father passed away before I could know him. I was an only child. Sure, others knew and loved me, but none like her. All I have left to remember her is the picture. I’ve always cherished it. It’s a perfect capture of my mother’s uniqueness, her essence. Even collecting dust on the shelf, it does so gracefully as she would have.
*        *        *
I’m sitting in the kitchen. Mum is cooking my favourite meal. We make the usual conversation about school, friends, work, sports, and our daily rituals. Although these chats may be boring for others, I quite enjoy them. With each word spoken to each other, our bond strengthens. Our cosy home fills with the scent of flowers, peas, and steak. We take a moment to admire the beauty of the meal before us. We say grace then eat together.
After we finish, I thank her. As always, she says, ‘Don’t thank me, thank the Lord.’ I never understand what is meant by that, so I nod and leave the kitchen. I go to my room, put in my earphones, and then drift away in the magic of it all.
*        *        *
My first day at school. I hope I make lots of friends. Mum pulls up at the school. Kisses me on the forehead, a long hug, and ‘I love you, my little trooper.’ This will make my day great. I hope the other kids don’t pick on me for my Spiderman backpack. I like it. Spiderman is the coolest superhero ever.
I want to meet him one day.
I line up with the other kids. I see nobody that I know. One of the adults comes over to me.
‘Are you Tommy?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
She takes my hand. ‘Come with me then, you’re in my class.’
I like her. She makes me feel safe.
I meet the other kids I’ll be with for this year. One of them comes over to me. ‘Spiderman is the best, I can already tell we will get along. I am Philip,’ he says.
‘I am Tommy.’
We sit down and talk about Spiderman and Hulk and football and other things. We like a lot of the same things. I think we will be friends forever.
*        *        *
A sun-splashed day. I sit on the back porch with Phil and Mum. A moment of silence as we absorb the magnificence of this day. The truly spectacular view over the back fence, trees endless, except for a split where the river lies. Birds fly past, whistling their sweet songs. We all take a sip of our drinks and enjoy the silence. Comfortable, accepting silence. No need for conversation. Phil places his hand on top of mine as he looks deeply into my eyes. We sit in silence whilst Mum enjoys the landscape. Not a care in the world. We all enjoy ourselves. We toddle off inside, fix up a bite to eat, and sit together again.
*        *        *
Today I am broken. I’ve lost one of the most important people in my life. My mother has passed on. Her never-ending smile still shines in my heart. My tear-filled eyes comforted by the sight of Phil walking through the door. The two people who have always been there for me. An understanding and accepting mother, who loved me no matter what I did or what I loved. My lifelong friend Phil, who has been by my side every day since we were five. I was truly privileged to have these two beautiful, magnificent, and amazing people in my life. They always made me feel welcome.
*        *        *
I’m on my way to the year 12 formal. A stretch limo full of champagne, empty seats to the left and right sides, then there’s my best friend sitting next to me. Arm around me as we share a drink. A toast to the completion of our schooling. We arrive at the venue. Walk