where we lose count
time does not slide
to drape careless
as yesterday’s coat
over the back of a chair
or hang on a hook
that process of unbecoming
is a measured but uncountable thing
in a landscape where colors run
and paint is not paint
but stained glass
throwing light through canvas
The Persistence of Memory, Salvador Dali, 1931
Susan Daniels Poetry 
The measure, if there is one, is a fluid anti-measure. Great read!
Thanks, David–I adore Dali. The prompt for Octpowrimo was time, and all I could think of were Dali’s clocks…
“that process of unbecoming
is a measured but uncountable thing” very well said !!!
Thank you!
Ah, Dali!
Love him. When I lived in Florida near St. Pete, I used to go to the Dali museum–a lot.
I love this. Dali is a favorite and of my son’s. This print hangs in his bedroom. The imagery of the coat draped careless over the back of the chair is wonderful.
Oh, Gosh, thanking you! Glad you enjoyed my trip to the surreal.
I’m late already this morning, but when I spotted your image of Dali, I bounced over to see this beautiful poem, so connected to what is real. Thank YOU.
Beth, so glad you liked. I adore Dali, and decided to twist time on my own…
This line is so eloquent… it seemed to float from your pencil. (Perhaps it did?)
time does not slide
to drape careless
as yesterday’s coat
over the back of a chair
Love this poem!!
Thank you, Julie–took a little more effort than a float, but not much more. I love those images that come to us, almost unbidden.
Excellent write. Really striking imagery!
Mama, thank you!
measured but uncountable. brilliant! what a striking poem, Susan.
Oh, thank you, Jane!
It is only measuerable in the act of happening then dispearses in colored air that has already been breathed in and exhaled in footsteps stopping just before the threshold. Very good. Found you by happy chance. KB
Thanks, KB. Nice to meet you & looking forward to reading more of your blog after work…
Susan –
Your poetry deepens and inspires me. So lovely, so eloquent, so true…
Lovely lovely loveliness…
This triggered a night of dreaming, a day of attending to my own perceptions of time…and a poem is coming alive inside me…
Thanks for being here! ❤
Oh, goodness, Shan, thank you!
And thank you! =D
Oh, this is gorgeous. Dali was the first thing I thought of when I read the prompt, and you’ve captured those dripping clocks so well.
Love the Dali connection ~ final line stunning 🙂
Thanks much, Polly. When I used to visit that museum in St. Pete in Florida, as I walked along the wall, it was a similar feeling to walking down a hallway of an old cathedral, watching light pour through stained glass on both sides. The only thing missing was the light pattern on the floor.
Spellbound!
Deb, thanks much–I am too, when I see a Dali painting.
Words as beautiful as the painting…
Nelle, thank you. I am humbled by your words.
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