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Tick Tock Tick Tock

Tick tock
tick tock
Tick Tock
TICK TOCK
Tick Tock
Tick tock
tick
tock
tick
tock
tick
sublime silence
tock
in a cacophonous world
tick
silence enough
tock
to hear time
tick
as it tiptoes by…


a precious
moment…
alone

Hi Byron ~

Great to see you here .

Mmmm. I like the way you created the spaces and the fading in and out of your consciousness of the ticking clock, in lieu of the silence within the spaces. I have an old 'school clock' which belonged to my former husband's grandmother. When I first heard it many years ago, it was obtrusive. After awhile, it became a comfort, like a mother's heart... and I stopped noticing it until it stopped. I like the peaceful feeling of your poem.


~ Lizzy

It's great hearing from you Byron,

I love this piece you have written. It reminds me of a piece I wrote some years ago. Here it is:

Zen Time

toc

Keep on keeping on

Peace Bernard

you both do beautiful things with clocks n tocks, two ticks.

Thanks folks.

I wanted to make the font size of the 'tick' and 'tock' diminish as the poem progressed. I was able to do it in my Word document, but alas not able to in here.

This 'pome' is another attempt at my Dylan Thomas phase, in that, I want it to be read aloud rather than just read. Something like Andrew McGeever does at his poetry readings. The pauses in the poem are as important as the spoken word.

I tried to imagine that it was to be pitched to an audience in a small room in a country pub. Fire crackling in the grate, hailstones peppering the mullioned window panes, and that reliable, ancient, grandmother clock listening in to my homage to her.