A broken watch hanging loosely over a thinning, shaking wrist. Like a soldier out of rhythm, a clock hand ticking nervously in futility. Marching in place. It's quarter after two in this distorted world.
A moment of sullen grace, hung like wet fabrics filleting in the sun. Parched and forever unmoving.
A ghost. A stain. A tattoo.
Forever etching itself into the same unnerving,, tragic routine
That is exactly why I never ever wore a watch... I do have a beautiful one which I wear as jewerly, but the battery doesn't work.
But then of course many are forced to live by time... Only when one gets older can they actually make a decision not to be forced by time...but then I think as I write this that I am wrong because even when one is retired one needs to know what time it is for an appointment they have made, etc.... well, maybe no watch is needed...oh gosh... there goes my imagination...all over the place.
Anyway, I really love the beginning of your poem as I can easily imagine that thinning, shaking wrist...
A broken watch hanging loosely over a thinning, shaking wrist. Like a soldier out of rhythm, a clock hand ticking nervously in futility. Marching in place. It's quarter after two in this distorted world.
Lisa, still in Spain
Broken watches are sad things because they have somehow become part of us and the blow by blow moments of our daily journeys. A truly touching poem Ranger!
interesting read Ranger. Got me thinking, musing to myself, wondering if I should read this as a minimalist or antithesis of Dylan Thomas "Do Not Go Gently..." Either way its sent be to the shelves to pull out DT to read in counterpoint. If I reach a decision I'll let you know. First though I need lubricants to mull the question
The below lines could stand alone Ranger Kessel.
"A ghost. A stain. A tattoo. Forever etching itself into the same unnerving,, tragic routine"
I understand the above lines. I have four tattoos from my Army days and sometimes. I feel that I am in the wrong place. Outstanding poetry my friend.
Coyote
Time and age. A reminder that the ticking clock appears to move faster as we get older. A broken wrist watch sounds good to me. Since I left work, I wear no watches. I do not want to be reminded of time slipping by.
"A moment of sullen grace, hung like wet fabrics filleting in the sun" Yes, mister that is a fantastic line. sullen grace sums up so many moment... whether they be expectations or pointed moments of pertinence we find our selves in. Random or purposeful like a shaking of a broken watch. A focus on our movement in this place at this time. (I realize my take is light years away from your original intent, but I like the wording and connected with it! well done)