I have a fairly loud clock in my bedroom. I usually block out its distinctive tick-tock sound. Just before going to sleep early morning of April 29, 2011 I kept listening to the sound and started to create poetry in my
mind. I feel asleep but finished writing "The Clock" the next day. I hope you like it.
Tick-tock, tick-tock; Clock, I listen to your
Time I can’t see, touch or hear you; but you’re all around.
What are you? I think I know, but no … I don’t.
Do you come from the past? Are you here? Do you move towards the future?
What makes you flow?
Clock, I hear you race!
Time you aren't always the same, it's as Einstein told.
Your pace sways on gravity's hold.
We have to clean the clocks on GPS satellites.
Or we wouldn’t know; where we were, nor how to go.
Clock, what is your place?
Time you aren't alone. You are united with space as Minkowski showed.
Accelerating objects constrict and expand as they slow.
So, your pace also changes in velocity's zone.
Space/time, you are like hot air that flexes a balloon.
Clock, can I break your chains?
Can I move behind you and visit the past?
Can I see my Mom who’d joined the dead?
What of the dinosaurs … can I watch them from the edge?
I promise I won’t kill my grandfather, and spin a paradox on its head.
Clock, can you fly?
Can I move in front of you and visit the future?
I want to command a spacecraft and zoom in outer space.
I’d visit the stars and distant worlds at warp-speed-pace.
I’d come back and tell people, where ... we’ve yet to go.
Clock, you are only
The fog has lifted. It’s so clear.
The past is a memory and the future is a dream.
The present is where my power sits
It's where I live & explore the wonders of ATI!*
The Naked Psalmist a.k.a. Ken Koskinen, originally posted April 30, 2011, edited Jan. 24, 2012