Muggers are not alway those shifty looking guys who hand around street coners. Many spend their days in the well apointed executive offices of local authorities, government departments and public service undertakings. These people are migging you for far more that the street thugs would hope to get.
They have me pinned down,
a cold blade is pressed to my throat,
they are stealing my possessions.
Not money nor gold trinkets,
they want things I value far more.
Laughter will not echo in quiet moments,
They have stolen my humour.
Every day is full of busy emptiness,
No time for treasured solitudes,
They are stealing my sacred hours.
Flowers bloom where I cannot see their colours,
clouds do not linger to play, making
stange faces as they morph through space.
I think they are stealing my power to see.
No more beautiful women excite passion,
nor do good wines make me drunk,
I smell fresh bread, my mouth does not tingle.
Can they be stealing my senses ?
Every day is filled with forms, regulations,
Bank Statements, rules, laws and appointments.
No time to think, explore, enjoy,
no more precious hours waiting for me.
Are they stealing my life ?
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|Reviewed by Sara Russell
|We can all identify with this feeling of not being in the driving seat of our own lives; it probably starts the minute a child puts on a school uniform and thinks "it's not really quite me". This can apply to officaldom and other aspects of life, such as illness. Powerful write...... Sara.|
|Reviewed by Ted Sheridan (Reader)
|This is good stuff but I agree with Katy.|
|Reviewed by Gaye Dale (Reader)
|It seems to me that time is the cursed vehicle by which we must all travel through life and the struggle is to learn to master this wild horse or the bucking kicking thing will take us where IT wants to go... There are a few who have learned to ride it well and they will go (if they choose) to the far off meadows where the sweetest flowers grow, while the rest of us are back in the coral still trying to hold on the the reins! ....|
|Reviewed by Zenith Elliott
|Ian, this is a powerful and profound write! ~Z~|
|Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader)
|Awesome power and wisdom in this write Ian, but remember my dear they can only steal what you allow them too!
|Reviewed by Leland Waldrip
|Great write, Ian. Could probably apply to most in the industrialized world.
|Reviewed by Katy Walsvik
|My god, they ARE! Get out of there! You have me twisted in knots.. this is a brilliant reporting of so much of life today.. step 1: recognize it step 2: RUN! step 3: write it down.. This one was written from the gut.. not a minced word in the entire, perfectly done poem. I could feel this one.. Great work. Now gooooooooo! katy.|
|Reviewed by Trixie Love
Nice to see you back.
It just seems that there are never enough
hours in a day...
You must make the time
to smell the roses...
|Reviewed by - - - - - TRASK
|As Long as They Don't Git Yor SOUL!!!
|Reviewed by Sandie Angel
|Powerful words! Good write, Ian!
Sandie Angel a.k.a. May Lu :o)
|Reviewed by Gwen Dickerson
|Only if you let them! Suit up in your armor and take a stand! Protect some of your private, quiet hours in order to: enjoy/think/create/relax/love/pursue/endiver
....well, you get the message! I know, you know this, that's why you wrote your poem, which I Love! I like the way you think!
|Reviewed by Sara Coslett
Stealing is a powerful word; it evokes an image of immorality. I do think you are correct that the bureaucracies and annoyances that we have to wade through just to survive the day are immoral.
Without a doubt the muggers are consuming our time, our lives. I just don’t recall when we gave them permission to do so.