Clay Young Jr. Poet I do not know?

Chrono-Logic

CHRONO-LOGIC


In this age I am
And lost in time
So I find myself inclined
To sleep with the clock
Ticking another tock
Bottom-of-the-hour-hand


We are the age we’re from
The clock is a time machine
That takes us far away
From when we want to be
To where we are aging


I feel its hands all over me
Wrinkles of disgrace
Want to tie its fickle hands
And punch it in the face


Battle. Blink. Ablaze
Seconds, minutes, hours, days
Lost and week within the maze
Fighting the darkening haze
One candle with two fires
You wet your eyes and it’s burnt away


The ending never came
The sun rose again
it wasn’t the same
but looked like an old friend
lost track of time
from a skyline view
walking the line
with batteries new


time is just something man invented to pass the time.

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Carol Sunshine Brown May 20, 2011 at 6:32 AM What a beautiful morning. The sun is finally shining, the birds are singing, and I am sharing my day with you reading your wonderful poetry. I hope you have a great weekend Clay. Love, Carol

Poet Destroyer A May 19, 2011 at 9:54 PM Clay, what an invetion of a chronological thought..... i think one can drink so much with out knowing what will shines in his face.... hope its not time wasted,,, enjoyed,.your poem,..Linda