Poetry – Joseph Timmons: Author and Menace

June 6, 2018 Joseph Timmons Author's Rambelings, From The Road, Laments, Poetry, Statements of Thought

Confessions of an Aging Wizard

By Joseph Timmons

To rise come the sun, and first foot fall to the floor

I sit and ponder the reasons

As my gaze comes to focus, the day floods in upon me

Thinking of all that must be done, and of some that must be undone to be redone

The Day begins at first drink of brew and first smoke

And what of this life, i wonder, i ponder and think

Surrounded by images and pictures, photographs and drawings

Piles of books and scripts

The thought of good times past, of life and love

They live there, frozen in time

Images of her, and the children, happy, smiling

So long ago, and now gone, if only survived by memories

I am full of memories

I am full of hope

I am full of dreams

I am full of love

I am full of nothing that anyone needs or wants

I’ve come to sit in my chair

I, at my desk, making and taking notes of my whims and whimsical delights

Of spells and potions, of incense and of time

Time

All of that which is left, some time

A life half lived

And now the other half is here to be lived

To start anew, and alone

My magic is half gone now

Yet the fire within remains

There is some magics left, and many mysteries to solve

I am an Old Wizard, now casting magics and weaving spells

Performing my tricks for the mists

Shadows, tricks of the light

For loved ones no longer in view, and long gone

For loved ones that no longer see me, or wish to be seen by me

Or the magic within, now a life without

Like a King without a Queen

A Pale Horse with no Rider

I serve no one and no purpose

Other than to entertain my Cat

Who would rather chase birds

Than to purr in my lap

When this festival comes to a close

And the night becomes long

When the sleep of eternity begins

And the bird sings no more

I go unto the slumber of ages

With your last kiss upon my lips

My last Trick

My last Enchantment

My last Spell

My last Hoorah…..

Is my Love will always be

For you.

June 2, 2017June 3, 2017 Joseph Timmons Author's Rambelings, Perspective, Poetry

Today

Today is like any other day yet unlike any of the day before.

When you take time to look at your life and then compare it to the life you thought you’d have you find yourself possibly disappointed.

But just maybe if you look at it as what could have been and what could be that disappointment that you feel may pass.

However all things change so enjoy the moment live your life and continue to live until that has come to pass as well.

August 14, 2016June 3, 2017 Joseph Timmons Author's Rambelings, Books and Literature, Opinion and Thoughts, Perspective, Poetry, Statements of Thought

Ever get a new book, and in the moment of wanting to get into a story that would or could be a great new advent, you skip over the prelude or preface, which contain the back story or reason for the story’s telling, often missing the whole point of things?

Life is much like that, each life skips over the beginning, we often look at wanting the action, the romance, the magical musical experience. But, as often, we find the tragedy, the suspenseful horror, the sad endings.

I leaped into my story, my life, looking for the love story and happy ending, the magical wild existence that all Disney movies promise, only to find I am living in a Stephen King Trilogy, one where the hero leaves in disgrace after saving the world, it abandons him, hanging him to the proverbial cross of his own unwilling creation.

I unwillingly start a new chapter in my book of life, in it, the hero finds himself alone, disowned and abandoned by his kin, his Queen has ripped him from his throne and has expelled him from his one Castle and Kingdom. His children whom he loves have each had a devilishly evil part in his destruction.

The chapter starts with the hero wandering alone in a vast and shadowed wasteland, bent and broken, bruised and beaten, bleeding inside, infected with sorrow and plagued by voices in his head, the echoes of the false accusations and the sound of his lover cursing his name, mocking him in unfounded anger when once that voice beckoned him to bed.

He drags himself through the dirt and waste, towards the dim light that glows just off the distant horizon, bately escaping the blak shadow that is advancing upon his every shuddered step. He looks back, wondering how he missed the signs of treachery, how could he possibly deserved the betrayal, the black blade still firmly lodged in his back, the wound no longer bleeds, and he has gotten used to the pain. His eyes, dried out and swollen from the constant stream of tears, his mouth, twisted from screaming inward, from behind a broken smile and it is dry from a lack of words to say, all his words were used to question and defend. His magic power has depleted to mere parlor tricks and his noble sword has become a cane for a broken man.

As our hero reaches the horizon, he finds the light was not the sun rising on the new day, but the fire and poisonous breath of the demon that has taunted his life. “I have come to finish you, you a once noble adversary, now I almost pity you, one swat will finish you” the demon laughs, but the hero, with his last bit of strength, his last spark of magic, stands tall, drawing up to meet the challenge, draws his dullend blade and stands to the charge, definitely, “here I am, master of lies, I’ve traveld all this way to find you, you thought I was running away, no, I was leading you away from the innocent”, our hero smiles “come, my blade is dull, so it will cause you more pain, the knife in my back is long and sharp, I will remove it and use it to take your hide to make new armor ” the hero steps forward, “come at me, or are you still just a coward”

In the moment their eyes meet, the battle again begins, our hero, determined to continue protect and defend the lives and honor of the very ones that left him to die alone.
Always the King

Always the Hero

Always the Fool

June 9, 2016June 9, 2016 Joseph Timmons Imagine, Laments, Perspective, Poetry

Random Words

Calm emotionless air
Flows through my lungs
In and out
Repeatedly following the same pattern
Time and meter
No control or thought
Making it work

Blood pumps though my heart
Regular beats
In a rythem
So many per second
Again, by itself
No control

The life is controlled
By a brain and system
Regulated
Working as one
By itself, asleep or awake
With no interference
From me

Yet, this mind
So complex
Yet
So perfect
Cannot control me
To make me
Do things right
That is only
By Random Actions and Thoughts

They dont play well together
In conflict with itself
Causing my conflict
With you

If only we
Were automatic

June 5, 2016June 9, 2016 Joseph Timmons Poetry

View of Tears, a Crocodile’s Story

Poem by Joseph Timmons.

“Oh, what Irony life brings upon the faithful, the hopeful and the loving, to give so freely and get nothing in return, yet to be willing to give again, knowing it will be more of the same.”

“Ah, the simple plan of a lovers life, to give in, give out and give away”.

“The broken heart doth need time to mend enough, to be broken once more”.

“To thee, an on tomorrow, to hope and dream of days with lesser pain, and to give in to the drowning in ones own sorrow, with a smile and to turn again and again, cheeks bruised and burned.”

“Forgiveness never shines upon the soul, gilded angels shun the broken heart-ted that loves the hardhearted, at least Romeo succumbed to the kiss of death and lives not in the pit.”

“It makes one pray for numbness and the ability to awake in the rose colored world of apathy, where not a care and not to care, to be normal, blissfully ignorant.”

“I’m not hungry anymore….”