Thursday, October 14, 2004


In an effort to not be derivative I am posting something that I, myself wrote.

It is a poem

and it is in free verse.

Here it goes:

doc (Hickory and Dickory)

my clock is not working, it is boasting of it’s brokeness
by not ticking at me, I need the tick and I need the tock
I needs the hickory of my clock. no my watch will not
do, it is as silent as you are my dear. it is nice to have
my clock now even though it is still a noiseless tick
and a soundless clock, I know, your point is taken
well, it did me no great good but I did love it for the
small favors; the shining in the light, the tick, tick, ticking
through my night. my boasting clock, my boasting
clock, my rooster of my desk, you are now more than
dead you are useless, see my dear how my hand
moves to stroke then my mind moves to cut my hand?
now see my new hand throw my tick and my tock, my
soundless clock through the glass, watch my dear,
watch the window break and my clock stay solid,
does that not prove it’s worth? watch now my dear
watch how my dear, it falls to the street, to cars
creeping by, to dogs and children and jump-ropes, to
hot dogs, weeds, and hot, hot pavement to hot for my
working clock but not hot enough for my boastful,
useless, tickless, tockless,

1 comment:

eucharisto said...

Wow. That's really great. Very intruiging, shows, instead of tells. Encore!