Temporis illusio est

 

"Does anybody really know what time it is?"

About time and the fact that it's illusory.


Time... an illusion
but we believe in it.
We believe.
Belief doesn't make it true.

Time is of the essence.
Time is a war.
Time is only temporary.
Time is the other shore.

Miles said "Time isn’t the main thing. It’s the only thing."
Syncopated rhythm. 

Tolstoy chimed in with: "The two most powerful warriors are patience and time."
Concatenation.

Darwin opined: "A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life."
Time as luxury. 

It's not a peccadillo to ruminate on time.
It's how a life is measured,
in the fullness of time.
Time is praxical for music, there's that.

Time is a false measurement.
Animals do not measure time. 
They simply live their lives.

Time is only true if you believe in it.


©Ellen Pepper 2025

 
image: ar.inspiredpencil.com

DREAM WEAVER

 

I dreamt of you 
again
last night.

You were sitting cross-legged
under a transparent dome
at the edge of the ocean
'neath the fullness of the moon
gazing empty-eyed 
at the waves.

You appeared to be vacant in mind.
Not dejected.
Just not there.

You seemed to be a blank slate.
Unmotivated to act
or think
or even breathe deeply.

I wanted to ask you what had emptied you.
But you couldn't be reached.
I spoke, but you didn't hear.
No reply was given.

The waves swept in...
Pulled you out in the silvery, shiny bubble
 far from the shore.
I saw you fading away and knew
I'd never hear your voice
or smile into your eyes
ever again.

Peace be upon thee.


©Ellen Pepper 2025

FINALLY DEAD

 

The untrod stairs.
The unsent message.
The silence of the tomb where unkept promises are mourned.
Your undying mendacity.

Your malignant despisery.
Your smug face in the media scrum
never to be seen again
except in mocking, comedic videos.

You said you'd stick around
until the gold paint dried.
It was meant to be a jocular moment,
but it held true.
You had other things to do...
a house to break into shards.

So the last thing you destroyed
will be  forever the final.
 The end is not the beginning.
The door has been slammed,
and the disquiet is a haunting.

We thought you'd never leave.
You were brought down by your irascible rage.
Ostracized by those from whom you begged respect.
You vulgarian, barbarian troglodyte. Schweinehund.
You bought the fealty of demons and 
your spawn did the same.

So, farewell to you. No...
be gone, and good riddance.
May you dwell in the Ninth Circle of Hell
forever and a day.
Treacherous. With Judas as your lusty cellmate soulmate.


©Ellen Pepper 2025

image: https://artpictures.club/autumn-2023.html