So here we are
in another
new
year.
But
Nothing
Is really ever new,
It’s true, and we all knew
That nothing would
Ever stay true
No matter
How it
Flew.
Put
The clocks
Back in their box,
While time interlocks
Like long, half-witted cocks
Fighting in the breeze-
Way between these
Truths and lies
That society
Tells us all
We should
Buy.
Lies
Scented
With truth’s
Alluring perfume
Yet unable to ‘ever bloom
Love from a mushroom
Boring it's phallic
Moldy, spastic
little drastic
fantastic
plastic
head.
Dread.
So, here we are,
starting yet another
damned. new.
year.
But
Nothing
Ever stays very new,
It’s true, and we all fucking knew
That absolutely nothing would
Ever dare to remain true
No matter how far
They said it
Fucking
Flew.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: January 3rd, 2025 09:19
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: Demar Desu, rin, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments8
The only constant is change and so it seems every year. Love the shape of this poem that reminds me of birds in flight
Indeed. Thank you so much, my dear friend. I had a lot of fun laying out this one and I am so glad both the poem and its shape delivered! 🙏❤️
I am FFFF frustrated by that clock - it's 11 something but the other hand has fell off! lol.
I know, right?!? My thoughts exactly! 🤣 Thank you Orchi for your time and engagement, my friend! 🙏❤️
Confirming that what happens today, tomorrow it is history and it change again after that ( underlined with a hint of anger one suspects !!). Enjoyable read
Exactly…just a smidge of anger in there. 😂 Thank you so much my friend! 🙏❤️
You are very welcome
Excellent write Tristan
Thank you so much Tony! 🙏❤️
You're welcome Tristan
And the rooster crows yet again in some forsaken backyard like some Groundhog Day scenario. Perhaps we can muddle through like St. Vincent, another unlikely postmodern antihero.
Yes. That damn ol' rooster won''t shut his beak! Even the hens are breaking their eggs over it! 🤣 As for muddling through, here's hoping. What else is there to do? Thank you so much, as always my dear friend, for your throught-provoking analysis and expansion on ideas. Always eagerly anticipated and appreciated. There. Now that is an alliterative (oops I did it again) display of gratitude! 🙏❤️🤣
All in fun and fellowship!
Wow!! 😲
Powerful penning
Love it, thank you!!
Absolutely nothing
Would ever
Dare to
remain
true! 😢
Thanks for sharing, much enjoyed!
Best regards peace ✌️ Thad
Thank you Thad! I appreciate your visit and thoughts my friend! 🙏❤️ Glad the poem delivered!
I don't know if this is the intended shape, but I see a curly piece of confetti. seems to me like a warning sign throughout the celebration
Actually, the shape was more or less accidental. I wanted the poem to seem as if it were taking flight and then regressing. The poem is a series of pointing arrows, which is what I "knew" I was doing when I was setting that up. They're pointing forward, yet everything about them seems to be the opposite of progress. That said, I actually do see the confetti streamer in this, now that you point it out, and I think that is EVEN cooler than my original idea! 🤣 A happy accident indeed. In fact, I am pretty sure I will now not unsee the confetti streamer, and the image of it, as you rightly point out, is a warning sign throughout the celebration. NinjaGirl, this is another case of interpretive brilliance on your part. Thank you again for your time and engagement, my dear friend. 🙏❤️
Haha! I saw one of the comments saying it looked like birds, but I couldn't see it. I zoomed out on my laptop until I could see the full picture, but all I can think of is swirling confetti!
Hmm. I've read and reread, yet remain rather bewildered and confused, intrigued and somewhat fascinated. The grinch of the new year spews his disgust on the suggestion, despite the inevitable reality we all grow older, learning as we do. Interesting. Charmingly rendered with excellent imagery and a haunting poignancy, thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much! 🤣 Indeed, it sometimes feels as if there is a literal grinch stealing away a good new year. 🤣 Actually, this was written on New Year's Day. I am sure it would not have taken me much longer to write it, given the current state of the world; however, even cynical ol' me was shocked to learn that tragic evil took place just about eleven and a half hours earlier in New Orleans. I had this poem in my heart on New Year's Eve, pondering when the next act of violence, the next selfish act of entitlement, how many estrangments etc. would take place following the hugs, kisses and toasts. Prescient thoughts indeed.Then the car attack in New Orleans took place. I thought, "we celebrate on December 31 only to wake up to hear of people being mowed down by a car in the streets. We anticipate change, but does it really come? Yes, it can individually...for sure...but what does it take to actually effect change around us?" I try to feel optimistic about the prospect of a new year, but, year after year...the same celebrations, the same wishes, the same resolutions, the same call for peace on earth and good will toward humans. All of that…then the clock resets and back to square one. Repeat. By December we will loathe this year too. This is more or less where I was coming from when I wrote this. Thank you so much my friend!. I hope this helps to clarify a little. Regardless, I am glad that you enjoyed its form and found it to be poignant. ❤️🙏
Thank you very much for your explanation! La. The statement I'm mulling since Friday morning is, "...I hope this year doesn't go by as fast as 2024!" Only catching me up hours later as I realized today was only an hour or two away and already the 4th. Time's flying despite the ugly occurrences blotting the view. Thanks again!
Oh, no doubt about that! Time certainly does fly with no seeming slow down in sight.You are welcome, Cheeky. Glad the explanation helped.
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