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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It ticks , ticks , ticks like a clock I am nine and I know it demands something but what ? am I suppose to rush to do ? It sits on the piano and demands my attention but my attention has long since gone elsewhere at three I would have listened my fingers would have danced to its beat but I'm now nine and the time that has demanded my attention has been filled with distance , distrust abuse , and the insistence of law do this , don't do that , don't talk don't run , just walk absolutely absolutely DON'T TALK at three I heard the music at nine music no longer exists in my life , only for those who could hear it in my life the tick tick tick means far more than rhythm it means if I don't get this something done RIGHT NOW I can expect something very unpleasant Here that tick means time and what must "get" accomplished no rhythm and it's glorious dance a poetry of tones a dance of resonance like the clear ripples in a pond and one note , one stone , can move everything in it's path But life here is one solid stone wall unmovable , cold , stone nothing I know at this age can transform stone into a resonating energy that can complete the cosmos I live in So , yes I had one recital and rejected the metronomes influence timing may be everything But I am human and I must account for it at my own speed Nov 2014 C Michael Miller Poetry of Providence
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