David Bowie told us, though I haven’t seen it yet
It puts it in your mouth when it takes a cigarette *
It’s important in the kitchen
It can even have a stitch in
Most of us are hoping for as much as we can get
*
Sometimes you have less than you need
For it can run out at such speed
You cannot inspect it
You cannot collect it
But wanting some more isn’t greed
*
You cannot have this on your legs,
your face or on your toothy pegs
An idle man stands
With this on his hands
His workmate for more of it begs
*
Albert Einstein had a really good trick
It will reverse if you whizz round real quick
I spun on the spot
Just dizzy I got
Was Albert Einstein a little bit thick
*
In order to gauge it man invented clocks
Each chronograph got a decorative box
I cannot say who
Made some go cuckoo
There’s one in my kitchen, it ticks and it tocks
[* ‘Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth’, from Rock n Roll Suicide by David Bowie]
Categories:
chronograph, time,
Form: Limerick
The rising sun marks break of day
Its zenith, we call noon.
Its setting brings the evening chill
And ushers in the moon.
The sundial charts its burning rays.
Its pathway plotted out
Predicts the hour of every day
Beyond a shadow of a doubt!
Precious time, there’s none to waste
And so we set the staff
Inventing ways to track its passage
Clocks and chronograph
The mainspring and the pendulum,
The tall Grandfather Clock
Becomes the heartbeat of the home
Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock
The pocket watch with silver chain
Umbilical, life line
We spend our days; entire lives,
Winding our way through time
Time is time, it’s so precise
Ethereal and pure,
With a watch we always know the time
But when we’ve two, unsure!
Categories:
chronograph, time,
Form: Rhyme
THE PERFORMANCE
She’s a dancer ready to chronograph her next move.
The chair is her boogie down stool.
Her hand synthesis the groove.
She looks as if her depths are being used.
Her arm is amalgamated to the symphony sounds in the room.
She squats in a hunker down pose to expose her sensual core.
Yes, she desires to be an instrumental part of the performance.
_______________________________________________________|
Written February 27, 2016!
Categories:
chronograph, image,
Form: Imagism
soon all that will be left is a jar with
a vertibrae and rubbing alcohol.
methusela growing long exo-sceletal fingernails
in his seven hundreth year steers crookedly.
soon all that will be left is grocery isles filled
with bleached teflon he says.
rows of miraculous white wonder bread.
methusela tells how in the 80's outside of
berlin he used the psudeneum
sir diedrich chronograph.
apparently he was a well known grafetti artist
along the ribs of the autobahn.
methusela smiles a little dodging children down the
isle playing with plastic sabre swords.
Categories:
chronograph, allegory,
Form: Blank verse
Times passing freezes
Here I linger
My life in deliberation
As it once was
Never to exist again in time
To hold…
Chronograph flowing
Delayed I stand
My death envisage
Welcoming its arrival
No gifts of life have remained
To give…
Categories:
chronograph, angst, imagination, introspection, loss,
Form: Free verse