I loved writing in my younger days, but due to an injury, I now suffer from epilepsy, so some of my poems are about this brain disorder and the public's indifference to it and the pain this indifference inflicts on those of us who suffer with seizures. more »
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Cindy Thacher Poems
It's About Time
Yesterday I was thinking about tomorrow, and now tomorrow is today. Today I need to save time to make time 'cause I don't have time to waste time.
Of a Sound Mind
Is anyone of a sound mind, just how is it defined? One's thoughts may be kind or wicked, like a demon's mind,
My lovely daughter has a fiance now and I don't know how or if I should ask, is their love real
The Last Voice
A soft voice whispers in my ear I pretend not to hear, The voice becomes loud, austere. losing control, I adhere,
No two are the same they quietly fall gently enthrall, It's autumn, snowflakes came,
Left In the Dark
My heart is broke in half and devils laugh
Narcissus coveted his majestic reflection an obscure reflection, A lucent image he would seek this ancient image of Greek,
Every day as if at the fair, We choose which mask that's pleasant to wear. Unconsciously asking, 'Who do I want to be today?
Through the mind of a pretentious troubadour, Contemplating thoughts of her endeavor, Will it be prosaic or full of splendor? I wonder.
If You Need
If you need to, It's good to laugh out loud Or cry in a crowd.
I will continue to find my moral path in this ungodly aftermath, Once again, I'll speak out loud And divulge the truth as I had vowed.
Land of Lethargy
Loneliness, hope or despair, is life allowed to be fair? I look at you, and you at me, and what do each of us see?
The Bliss of Ignorance
If ignorance is Bliss, Why do so many choose to miss, Ignore or disregard learning, When many in the world are yearning?
There is a game we all play, when and where is hard to say. We will play until the end, then we realize, it's pretend.
Comments about Cindy Thacher
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
It's About Time
Yesterday I was thinking about tomorrow,
and now tomorrow is today.
Today I need to save time to make time
'cause I don't have time to waste time.
I try to go back in time
searching for Aristotle, Isaac, Einstein,
and H.G. Wells with his timeless Time Machine.
Time is of the essence, they say, so I take a brief time out,
not knowing how much time I have
I fast forward to the future
wishing I could speak with Stephen
about how time changes things
and the time for every purpose.
If time stood still, perhaps it is the end of time,
or maybe it'd be ...