thoughts while winding the grandfather clock

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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About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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22 Responses to thoughts while winding the grandfather clock

  1. “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!

  2. Green Speck says:

    “the sound of time
    being kept

    but never held”

    I love the punch you conclude your poems with !!!

  3. George Ellington says:

    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.

  4. I like the gentle observer stance of the poem. I always feel like I’m fighting with time.

  5. For me the way you’ve structured the poem works so well…marking both a sense of syncopation and time elapsing. Nice.

  6. BroadBlogs says:

    Beautiful. But I sometimes do wish I could hold it.

  7. ruleofstupid says:

    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!

  8. nelle says:

    Yes, although there are times where it feels like the pendulum hooked my clothing.

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