Time's Distorted Page

Time is only told through a distortion ~

Time's Distorted Page ~

*Inspired by this historical clip of rare, colorized pictures: http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=aac_1392197830

Time is a distorted figure,

told through mouths of winded men,

and filled with place of gentle offers,

which stir my hidden hope again.

It pulls me into lukewarm water-

 sooths the heat of present pain.

 

Searching for a place to nest I,

wander to that careworn page,

rest beside the shining parasols,

lost within their coquettish wiles.

I look to tailored gentlemen,

who tie their cravats on so tight,

I find myself as equal standard-

a Prussian much-esteemed.

Dignitary formed through beauty,

touched by graceful boundaries.

 

 

When I finally reach the shore,

a familiar nest of pain awaits.

And I remember then the Time.

 

Quickly, with my thoughts alive,

I deftly move within the-

darkly churning roar below me,

and allow the artful waves to drive,

me to that land bedazzled-

shame-filled with deceiving glow.

 

And when I reach the shoreline,

I'm filled with words that make me,

expect a gentle bow, perchance-

  a woman's slippery hanky.

 

Though I long for those depictions,

when the men pause in their tale,

 I realize to my injured vanity,

the stories that they deftly wove,

are really much the same,

as those which I see nest in . . .

these sages' covert thoughts.