Borrowed Time

TimeI wouldn’t say I am one for sitting on bar stools

in empty dirty bars studying time, but here I am/

all alone/ staring out a stainless glass window

watching life happen and wondering about

the sublime.


So many heartbeats out there strive for greatness;

so many dreams colliding while searching

for possibilities hidden inside shells of moral

capabilities. Some lead with eyes wide open/blind

to the finely crafted bullshit of rhetorical motivation

and some are the followers who waggle

just slightly behind inspired by historical innovations

and there are some, who drink alone/like me,

who search for truth in a half empty glass

of optimism slightly buzzed.


It’s funny how when you are drinking everything

makes a little more sense.

Sometimes you need the alone time

to hear what your thoughts are saying.  Sometimes

you need to be away from everything out there

to understand the true ideals of individualism

because we are fascinated by difference

even when we think we are afraid

of not fitting in. We seek shelter in handcrafted

cliques just to delay the inevitable of standing

on our own.


We all embrace that maybe tomorrow entitlement

of procrastination, that daily hesitation that makes

everything around us happen….eventually

and maybe I’ve just had too much to drink/swirling

around ice in a empty glass once filtered by Tanguary

and a twist of tonic while still studying the sobriety

of a drunken society of hopeful prosperity.

Life makes a nice drink

because it is a bunch of nonsense we intake

until we’re intoxicated in the mind and stumbling

just to stay on our feet/stuck in time; a time that ticks

slowly when we’re in pain

and fast when we’re entertained

but at times, like now, it does pause

reminding us that we are on borrowed time

sipping on life with imitations of the sublime.


© 2012

Tarringo T. Vaughan

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