what good is a day
of a couple dozen hours,
when REM or J-O-B
steal sixteen sweetly
discrete time units
from me.
the remaining eight
I attempt to allot,
but ,O no, I forgot
to subtract time
in showers, shaving,
and caffeine consumption,
which provides the gumption
to pursue a new goal.
I'll unteach myself
time, blowtorch the chains
off this throbbing soul
put there by clocks,
and calender pages,
by the lengths of shadows,
and our various ages.
exposure to now
is the desired end,
and If I can unteach myself
I wanna teach a friend.
"Blowtorch the chains off this throbbing soul," wow! Beautiful poem!
ReplyDeleteIt's is difficult to stay in the now, sometimes. And then sometimes, it seems now is all there is. Funny, I guess.
I'm reading The Lovely Bones. There is this passage about time in there that I love:
"But my grandmother was preparing for the moment when he realized [it]... She was waiting patiently. She no longer believed in talk. It never rescued anything. At seventy she had come to believe in time alone."
It’s a powerful realization. Words are futile. And time is our best, and perhaps only, true teacher.
This was seriously GOOD!!!Wow.
ReplyDeleteWe spend so much time worrying about time: how much time we have left before this, if we're late for that, if we have enough time to spare to do this or that...
I heard somewhere, that "time flows through our fingers like a fistful of sand". And it's true. It goes by so fast, because we don't take the time to see it go by. We rush through our days, and our lives, and one day, we'll realize that there's unfortunately no time left.
Anyway, really good poem! You made me think.
Sarah
I've been feeling time pressing heavily on me lately. This pretty much captures it. Great poem.
ReplyDeletewow,
ReplyDeleteafter all these weeks, to me, your rythemes, your verse transfer from 2 to 3. amazing.
as for the meaning - bang on.
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