So this is this week's Poetic Noise. The topic was Absence (which, humorously enough, sounds like Abstinence when you're in a literary groups because of one of the most common literary themes). I wrote mine on Time and how confusing it is- try to read it in six-eight. When I present it, the rhythm is like an off-balance clock, you know, da-duh, da-duh, da-duh, da-duh. And, of course, the big pause in the middle is a little a-rhythmic.
TIME
Resounds, Rebounds, Around this World, in
TIME
Which Spoke so Long ago, before
TIME
Recrowns the Crownless, Downs the Foundlings
Crumbles Kingdoms, Crush Collections which
TIME
has Found a Way Around, with You and I,
Itself to Slow, to Flow, to Tango
Together in this World we Know there’s
TIME
would Like to Let you Linger On but
it Depends not What you’ve Done but
What you’re Doing Now as Clocks Resound
The Bells Recrown the Hour is it your
TIME
it’s Eternal we’re Ephemeral and So we Fear
our Pendulum Swings too Near and Yet
don’t Fret there’s Still Enough to Dance and Read
and Understand I’m so Confused it’s Like this
Noose makes sense for once I must step out of
---
TIME
---
repair the fabric snares the dance Replays it
can’t be Stopped the Clocks are
Not but by the Hands that Move them
we Must Control this Turning; it’s Just,
Because we Think there Might not be
TIME
for Us, for Sex, to Speak, to Reason
There’s a Reason to Learn to Murder.
We’re Allowed in all this Space a Chance to
Find as much of Reason as that to Sing in
TIME
which Slows but not for Blood it
Flows in Random Blooms,
Assumes in Lonely Rooms you Need more
TIME
Enjoys the Special, Dark, Medieval
Fall into the Folds of Death in
TIME
we’ll Know just Why we’re Running Out of
TIME
It Speeds and Slows we’re Never Absent
TIME
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Carpe Diem Ad Muertum
Sieze the day, to the death. There is no potential that shall be passed by, there is no piece of glory to fall by the wayside, there is no soul to left unsaved by the brilliance of language. As writers, we are gods.
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The poem was really nice though (one of my personal favourites out of the ones you've written), once I got the rhythm going. Very...well, I don't know what the word is. It just--went, kind of like when you let one of those executive stress relief balls swing, and it keeps going and going, back and forth...it was like that. Hypnotic, on a conscious level, I guess.
Of course, the dance reference didn't hurt. I liked that gap in the middle too; it was well placed, the kind of thing that makes one stop breathing for a second because it's abrupt and yet fitting.
Or it could be that the concept of time affects me a little more strongly than most, especially around this time of the year. In any case, good work heart .