(NaPoWriMo, Day 9)
hands have fallen.
Now they creep 'round corners --
to spinal clench -- my burdened neck --
The clock strikes none
amidst the maelstrom,
I am overwhelmed, defeated.
like deadlines, you'd think we'd
have learned by now we need more than
There is no time.
Yet the pendulum swings.
Is it moving time forward? Back?
to be in time
for some thing, but that's lost.
My girl's brown eyes pleading for mine
(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez, 2013
|Here's a Zen Koan for You:|
What time is kept by a clock
with no hands?
It's poem-palooza today! Here's what happened. The hands on my livingroom wall clock fell off earlier this week. Just dropped off the face of the clock. The pendulum is still swinging. It still chimes -- I assume on the hour. But both of the hands on the clock are inside the case, and it's not in a spot that's easy to reach. So we haven't gotten up there to fix it yet. But in the meantime, it obviously inspired quite a bit of poetry!
One of the NaPoWriMo writing prompts last week was to write a cinquain. I'm very new to learning all the different forms of poetry out there and the cinquain seemed very simple and elegant and I wanted to give it a whirl, so I just went to town, using this damned clock as my inspiration. There's something very anxiety-provoking, ennui-inducing and zen-like about having a wall clock that both keeps time, but doesn't keep time. --WNG