Time sits upon both of my shoulders with
white hands ticking promises right, opposite
red numerals counting down the left. Tock.
In this aging valley, this crevice dug by ambiguous stretches,
seconds trickle like months as years can flush like minutes.
An indecisive pendulum never makes a full rotation.
I stand at the edge of stillness,
a turquoise lake so calm it seems carved
from the breath between my thoughts.
the hills gather close, gentle silhouettes
holding the world in a loose embrace,
and the trees shimmer with
star-shaped leaves
that seem otherworldly
ahead, the moon lifts itself
like a golden clock face,
Roman numerals glowing faintly
as if time has chosen
to reveal its secret architecture.
its reflection drifts across the water,
a glowing ribbon of light
that stretches toward me~
not as a path,
but as a question
my heart already knows
but cannot answer.
in this place,
the hills, the star-leafed trees,
the turquoise stillness,
and the clock-moon
all seem to agree
that time is gentler
than we remember~
a soft turning,
a luminous pause
held in the hands of water.
Isolated Poem
Roman numerals
Immortal eternal
Growing old in years
Just writing an Isolated Poem
You can’t cheat death
Work hard until the end
Travel far
Time waits for no one
Chasing after dreams
The clock is ticking
Where does all the time go?
Just being trivial
You can’t live for ever in a clay shell
Dust we shall return
Flowers to ashes
Our breath is silenced
Pictures fade
Narrow roads are ending
A smile towards Heaven
Soul searching returneth
Roman numerals
does anyone still use them
maybe a lost art
I used to know them
I have lost that knowledge
might have to relearn
Numbers, abstractions and in other words
I prefer to teach math instead of English
Because fractions speak louder than verbs
God made the integers, all else is the work of man**
But Saint Augustine said
That you must have faith in order to understand
Numbers are abstraction you see
A symbol may be found on a chalkboard
They are not physical (they don't grow on a tree)
You only imbibe them intellectually
They run on into infinity
But you can catch them intuitively
So use the numbers
in daily life
Or before slumbers
They are something
you can count on
Reciting digits on your digits
[Sometimes] the countdown encumbers
Sundial numerals illuminate
Knowing noon narrow shadow arrow strikes
Flicks ‘round corners of maze elaborate
Heraldic daffodil, dormant out psychs
Lion, amber assured stride resolute
Teams beside mine, admires canter cloud bounce
Trembled meshing manes make brushstrokes astute
Abstract turns apparent, rewound amounts
Labyrinth lane secures our fears slumbering
Canary chortle performs audacious
Honey wine celebrates when Summer brings
Walls torched in lofty laughing blazes
Flung flaxen, fertile wheat fields’ wispy waltz
Scorched xanthe seeds multiply dream results
24th July
Yellow Leo
gold leaf Renaissance clock
a rare but unique landmark beauty,
giving us the time in Roman numerals
who can read such a clock?
such intricate details
her clockmaker was brilliant
Most of us deviate from the natural,
Some realize the objective of the plurals,
Few among us just run after the numerals,
A very few recognize the morals.
A virtue in peace in particular,
Remains ever true and non occasional,
A vice in actions as undertaken proposal,
Surely paves the way for quick dismissal.
Individual display seems brutal,
Don't forget the world is mortal.
Forever is a myth and abnormal,
But imagination is beyond approval.
Go far and beyond local optimal,
Your courage is certain and unconditional.
When it is past three in the morning
and you see it blinking in red digital numerals,
and when you feel older than death itself,
then you curl at the corners of your life
like that threadbare rug
you sent to the thrift shop
or the mask the devil wears on Sundays.
Fraying your threads
in the dead-end of the sheets
only the sweat of a forgotten dream
binding you to a silent ticking.
It may look skin deep but it goes all the way to a soul
A scar on society and the skin of an innocent
numerals meant to identify the person
yet remove them from humanity
Done in the name of ideology
And the politics of bigotry
If such a thing as religion exists
These crimes must have made the angels weep
And deities drop to their knees in shame
Do not be led by politics or religion
Or the words in a book
Trust your heart.
Time passes tick tock tick tock,
Second by second,
Hour by hour,
Watching the hands go round,
A white face with numerals,
It's what tells you the time,
Pendulum swinging back and forth,
It could put you in a trance,
Ornate or plain they all tell the time,
Large or small, freestanding or wall,
Time just carrys on,
Tick tock tick tock
X marks the spot if it’s V plus V
Or what XC needs to add up to C.
To the left of L or perhaps the right
There’s a difference some would consider slight.
Once the C’s add up, then it’s time for D
Which will last ‘til M’s a necessity.
Then it’s fun to challenge a boy whose path
May be one that follows the joys of math.
Placing X and I, L and M and C
To make sense brought smiles to both him and me
So we stopped at the point when I’d taught him plenty
And he knew MMXX was 2020!
The clock’s hands no longer move,
rusted with waiting and heavy with
oxidised breath. Time is no longer
golden but iron turned red with
longing. Ire bubbling below
a patience wearing thin. The
watch’s face is blank, no numerals
guarding its perimeter keeping count.
Under scratched glass, frozen hands
are circled by invisible sharks with teeth
two: one fang long, slicing seconds into
longer minutes; one tooth short, left
hanging like a child’s arm half raised
in question. When alone, time is
corroded by memories that won’t
exist.
I'll be shouting "Enu enu",
They be shouting "here he goes again"
Laying my lines
My verses be like lay lines
Providing energy,
Words sound like curses
when you read them backwards,
Now rewind that; repeat my words!
Let them play in your head
Feel them in your heart,
Hymns Like a lullaby
Putting you to sleep.
Burning notes I hate paper!
saving notes i love money,
Rearranging numerals from levels
Decoding messages,
Encryptions so complicated
I can't put them in words!
Rather hierarchical form
From fall to the rise, To the fall again!
The ups and downs
Crooked is how it be,
Screams from below
Trumpets blow from up above!
The great tournament
I wonder which side will win?
While in earth: deep in the jungle
trapped in a cage,
transferred from all over the equator
My talent as amusement,
can any one free me from this circus
A clown all dressed up!
Another beautiful day at the theme park
Roller-coaster ride the fast lane I can't comprehend,
UNSUPPORTED CODE
`Shuttered windows
The absence of any corporeal presence
Is counterbalanced by the ethereal essence
Of the Human Spirits still in residence
In forlorn foyers and empty rooms
Vacant eyes peer in unspoken plaint
through dust hazed windows...
seeking the solace of eternal memories
Of long passed children…and weeping widows
Clock long stopped pon dusty mantel
Hands posed o’er numerals Roman
No longer giving...and long past caring
Of the duty of time and chiming of man
Dust motes that caper in fairy dance fashion
Forming in miniature...galaxies and universes
Inquisitive rays of sunshine that leak through
And peek through the regimented rows
Of the slats in tidily ordered lines
In sombre repose behind
…`Shuttered windows...
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.