The Temporal Blues Poem by Max Reif
The Temporal Blues
Does the endless 7-day cycle
our lives are structured into
get worn like an old leather binder
that's been opened again and again?
How many times, this pilgrimage
down the stations of the week,
before arriving at a timeless place?
I enter yet another 7-room house
and walk with one eye
to the details of each compartment —
dishes to wash, disorder to tidy —
and the other longing, longing, longing
for what lies completely beyond
Interesting concept, Max, ... most of us are so fixed on the 7 day cycle we've never really thought about anything beyond. From now on, I'll be sure to keep an eye out. Great write! ! Brian
The temperament of a secular soul and the usual frustration I see in this precious write.Thank you Max.
Wonderful way of explaining the passing of our lives, with each week that goes by. It sounds pretty mundane doesn't it when written like this. Very well thought out and produced. Loved it. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
I like the tightness and atmosphere of this poem, Max. My favorite part: I enter yet another 7-room house and walk with one eye to the details of each compartment —
Fantastic write, Max. One of your best. Nothing much else to say except keep doing whatever it is you're doing these days, and sharing with us! Cheers, Lori
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 10:24:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
what can i add to this? it is so full already of insight...in short span...pure form..