To ol' Clocks

out of place, out of time and on the shelf

That old clock on the mantle
That measured the moments
Of so many mortals
Enmeshed in mere time

Now dusty and disregarded
Disdained and discarded
No longer the master
Nor server of time

One could offer that it’s
Time has passed
That it can no longer proffer
The measure of time

That it no longer dictates
A definitive number
When to rise or to slumber
Gives no longer life reason or rhyme

The clockworks have stilled
The hours no longer chime
Gears no longer mesh
Nor it’s hands tell the time

It’s an anachronism now
Lost in time somehow
Relegated, delegated, exiled,
To the trash pile of time

It sits alone, quite content with the fact
That it’s exactly right…twice a day
And that’s much , much more
Than most people can say

…at least most of the time…

Author's Note

lack of consistent rhyme is intentional. this is more random rumination than poetry.

Reviews

[Marie]

The inconsistent rhyme is very effective.

If I could be exactly right at least twice a day, I'd be satisfied with that.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and maybe humans are right twice a day...we can be like clocks, past our prime, past our time.

nice analogy---but i like this because it doesn't show frustration on the part of the clock, even though others think it is less, the clock itself is content.

[Karen Arizona]

I like, like, like this poem. For one thing, my beloved who passed away was totally into clocks and watches. My parents, before everything was sold, had a house full of a thousand different clocks, telling a thousand different times. Time is relative. In between the tick and the tock, and I appreciate your poem, David O' Whalen. I think it is well written and creative. Thanks for sharing!