Solitary

for a prompt

On the upstroke, the tick was louder, until the second hand got to the ten
On the downstroke, the tock slid like a water snake in the damp grass, greasy
It was this constant grinding and sliding that kept me from drowsing, dreaming
At the bells I would jump a little and thank the fates that I was still alive

When you are awake with fevered thoughts of the day to come, knowing your sun will collapse
It is impossible to close your eyes, red, gritty eyes, giving your last gold piece for a spoon
You dare not speak out, or scream, the sound would surely cause internal damage
And darkness is not as complete when you hear yourself bleating like a separated mother goat

The tick is a reminder of the sins that I committed without a second thought of collateral damage
The tock is a lovers hand caressing,  telling me to put in a good word when I meet the maker
I tell you this, there is no clock, and there is no lover, only darkness and a mind sick with despair
The only antidote is the opening of a door and treacherous needles of light, skating on ice too thin

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Truly the most original & startlingly fresh piece I've read on insomnia, a common topic to write about. This is simply blasting on all cylinders, yet also with a measure of reserve, getting the details precisely nailed down, not exaggerated. First line of last verse describes my own most throbbing area of regret. I love the suggestion that regrets & other such persistent mind tracks have a hammering tick-tock! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Neville]

Y'know don'tcha, I'm never gonna turn this PC off again, it would just be too risky and my separation anxiety would go through the roof... exquisitely penned sir.... Neville

[Robert Trakofler]

This is all poetic prose the expression of thought in here is awesome the imagery blows me away damn good write Mr Crowley this has the beginnings of a fantastic tale and is one at the same time holy smokes this is good

[Chris Shaw]

Some great lines here Crowley and your damp grass, greasy had echoes of Dylan Thomas. Anxiety is a right downer and can become debilitating. All the best to you.

Chris

[kentuck14]

C,
You speak well of that dreaded zone between contentment and fevered anxiety. You feel it coming on and you dread another restless, uncertain moment when nothing jives. You are alone in it . . . that unspecified fear that slithers like that snake in the grass toward your tired mind. Yes . . . "you hear yourself bleating like a separated mother goat." A great line. From where do these dark thoughts come?! Perhaps, from the absence of light!? But then sometimes we fear the light for it shines too bright upon our regret and sense of failure as human beings. "Oh, who will rescue me from this body of death?" A haunting poem you have written my friend . . . expressing what all people fear the most . . . to feel lost and alone with our own thoughts as an executioner. A thoughtful poem my friend. Thanks.
Tom

[Crowley]

Wow, you went on a Crowley poetry spree, thank you for that!!! Yeah, I have a busy body mind and when left alone with just it to keep me company, I come up with all kinds of unreal scenarios. It’s best if I just turn on the tv or go drinking...lol.

[kentuck14]

No way C . . . keep on writing.

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

The timekeeper, always waiting, always watching! I think when you hit forty, time doubles. It whizes by like a fast moving train. Excellent prose here Cee!

[Crowley]

Yeah, you know this messed up mind, that gd clock. Thanks Q, it’s good to see you round again!!

[Mrudula Rani]

Cadence of continuance gets under the skin when dormancy refuses to come to aid.
A clear sign of excessive consumption of coffee! The ravages of inquietude; you have penned a flawless depiction.

[Crowley]

Haaa...exactly. Cept I don’t drink coffee...lol. Thank you so much!!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

wow, great metaphor...tick/tock, tick/tock...
the tock is the collateral damage...or it could be the heart moving on with purpose and joy...
as i always say..."drive fast, take chances"---

j.

[Crowley]

You are always driving fast, but talent and chance are good buddies. Thanks man!!!