|
 Menu
|
|
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
|
Clock
Contributed by
aliopterix
on
Monday, 26th April 2010 @ 03:22:21 AM in AEST
Topic:
EmotionalPoetry
|
Clock
I sit in the silent room,
So quiet it is almost a shrine.
Vacuously I stare at the hands of the clock,
As inexorably I watch my life ebb away.
It is an ancient piece, an heirloom,
And with metronymic precision
Informs me of the passage of time.
My heart is not in rhythm with the timepiece,
It beats faster and seems to shorten my life.
I sit, legs crossed and hands locked together,
The silence and the clock in conflict,
But providing an etude for my melancholy.
The inner pain does not go away,
But time relentlessly continues with precision.
I hope that one day I will come to this place,
And turn back the hands of the clock,
In order to remember, relive, those so happy times.
Alistair Muir 26/04/2010
Copyright ©
aliopterix
... [
2010-04-26 03:22:21]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: Clock
(User Rating: 1 )
by northernlights on
Monday, 26th April 2010 @ 06:55:53 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| The silence and the clock in conflict, interesting the different ways this scenario can be interpreted depending on how you feel, instead of serenity pain making time seems endless, instead of reassurance the ticking signifies the passing of unhappy times,my want is to change it into a time of meditation where there is peace and serenity in this setting, well written |
|
|
Re: Clock
(User Rating: 1 )
by spud on
Monday, 26th April 2010 @ 10:37:02 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Hi,
Oh that we had the power to turn back the tides
of time! Mistakes rectified, opportunities seized,
calamities aborted, joys re-lived.
The stuff of dreams, and you expressed them so
eloquently.
Tommy
|
|
|
|
· 
Poetry
Site Help
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
