the motion
of a pendulum
is regular
and periodic
so much so
do I move
thought to thought
minute to minute
never fixed &
ticking down days
wound & occasionally
striking
the sound of time
being kept
but never held
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Susan Daniels Poetry 
“the sound of time
being kept
but never held”
beautiful! so well put.
compare this to the heart
beating, ticking
bleeping,never sleeping
yet not keeping time
just hugging and holding scents
and traces from its irreversible passage
oh, lovely, Noel! Your poetry always has so much more living, breathing, warm truth to it than mine…like so:
if we are keeping time
it should be measured
in pulses never wound
but still driving days
in matched rhythms
rhythmic pulsations
pounding in sync to our
logics and metres, fixed and elastic
always beating, heaving, trembling,
ever flowing, fluid but always alive,
even when we no longer are
yes, endless
in the pulse
we match, but briefly.
what drives us
in metered language
these words a drum
reflecting
a greater syncopation
we march to match
to catch that syncopation
moving our soles
and souls along trails
at once linear and at twice
circular, always forward
and occasionally recursive
Susan, you have midwifed another duet, and now you must upload it! “Odas is Odas”, as it is said they say in Army!
We did well, DP–will upload once I get off the phone….was fun, as usual 😉
“the sound of time
being kept
but never held”
I love the punch you conclude your poems with !!!
Aw, thank you!
Waves and cycles and ticking clocks. Amazing, isn’t it, how easy it is for us to conceive of time in such terms, such metaphors and images of regular movements and rhythmic beats. I wonder if time and life come to us, to our thoughts, in this way because our very biological existence depends on a regular beat. On a heart that becomes so quickly the hidden mechanism to our survival. Unseen. And yet we are drawn to it. And so the heart itself becomes more than real–a symbol, a metaphor, a goal, a friend. A ticking clock. Regulating our days. Without our even knowing it. Time that is kept, but never held. This is lovely, Susan.
Oh, George, thank you. There is such beauty and truth in your comment–so much better realized here in your comments than in the poem itself. Yes, time kept as a reflection of what is pulsed inside of us. George–what a perfect thought.
Thank you, Susan dear. These thoughts come to me inspired by your words. I am grateful for your inspiration. And for your poetic voice.
As I am for yours, George.
I like the gentle observer stance of the poem. I always feel like I’m fighting with time.
Oh, thanks so much–glad you liked this!
For me the way you’ve structured the poem works so well…marking both a sense of syncopation and time elapsing. Nice.
Thanks, Victoria. I was trying to catch a swinging motion with my words… Glad it (sort of) worked!
Beautiful. But I sometimes do wish I could hold it.
Me too, Georgia.
I seem to have become busy and am late to the party. Lovely last line – I do like a good ‘twist’ or punch at the end. Maybe even a #2b-8!
Whohoo–thanks for the #2b-8, you shall make me blush–glad you liked!
Yes, although there are times where it feels like the pendulum hooked my clothing.
LOL, those pesky pendulums…