The Wait

The passing of time ends in martyrdom 

I have been a martyr since seven am.

Five hundred steps trod by a medium-sized foot from Hell to Home

One hard labor-filled day's worth of patience to determine who I am.


She said "They will come in the afternoon".

Not precise enough to keep my hand and mind steady. 

I push the minutes as the hours dawdle; He whispers: "Soon..."

"It's afternoon! Where are they? You know, in some countries it's tomorrow already."


Feet kick the floor, hands shake convulsively 

Heart ticks faster as that ponderous fiend, stops pacing and starts to dance!

He's nervous too, mumbles something like "It's a dimension actually..." 

He doesn't understand "I don't care. I just want the bloody wait to be proportionate for once."

◄ I Refuse

My Faith and Inspiration Found ►


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Mae Foreman

Tue 17th Sep 2019 09:19

Dear Adam, what you just described could be easily be turned into a chapbook! Consider it please! And thank you for the kind words!
I haven't been visiting the site much so I haven't caught up with your latest stuff, it's top of my list!
X.x ?

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Adam Rabinowitz

Tue 17th Sep 2019 03:06

I loved...been a martyr since 7 a.m. Makes me think of that being a job...wake up...have attacked for one's beliefs....lunch...tortured for faith...take the bus a show...get ready for the next day. I am glad I stopped back on your profile. I really need to make more time to get on WOL. Do you know how to make time...i need a recipe.

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Mae Foreman

Sat 14th Sep 2019 18:42

Thank you dear Jon! ?

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Jon Stainsby

Sat 14th Sep 2019 09:53

Mae, I love this. Great poem.

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Mae Foreman

Sat 14th Sep 2019 09:00

Dear Don, your mind is fine. These verses are just out of the blue! Only by being inside my messed up head you would understand! It is simply a fragment of an angst filled day. Thanks though, I quite like these slanted rhymes?

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Don Matthews

Fri 13th Sep 2019 23:05

The content is deep for my 'simple' mind but the end-rhyming is good....

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