stirring clocktime into coffee.

she waits in silence

clink-swish-clink...

swish

the raspy chime of teaspoon in ceramic mug

her sole companion

the watchface on her wrist

ticks the time off slower

than the girl at the store had promised

with her toothpaste-y Breck Girl smiles..

should've known better than to trust them

she wonders what's the point 

of accurate swiss innards

or quartz faceted depth abilities

or any of the doo-hickeys she was assured were 

What Mattered

when the only time she relies upon

is already measured by

her metronome heartbeats?

Author's Note

just a note: apparently the player is still imperfect. if it cuts off a moment or two, simply click the yellow bar just a bit before the end, and it SHOULD complete normally *fingers crossed*

Reviews

[Crowley]

Ahhhhhhh.....first time I listened to the spoken word!!!!! You get two reviews from me, its a first. You know how I feel about the poem, and your voice lends a wonderful third dimension to the work that is out of this world. I am giddy with delight, definitely a fan.

[JC]

the rabbit hole is deep when it comes to writers and time...you expressed it perfectly

[Crowley]

This is one of my favorite reads in quite awhile. Justrose kinda hit the nail on the head. The pace and feel are exceptional and the subject matter super philosophiocal and mathematical but lowered to the tier of reality with some great everyday touches. Loved this....alot...alot, alot....right, you get it...Ok.

[blob blob]

i love this beginning--

"she waits in silence
{clink-swish-clink...
swish}"
the sounds-are a bit
stream of gonsciousness like...
(Joyce)-in the beginning parts
of 'Portrait of an Artist'-sort of
(wide open thoughts & sounds)
---if that makes any sense???
---not holding back...
...and then this...
"What Mattered
when the only time she relies upon
is already measured by
her metronome heartbeats?"
..really--a great poem!!!:)

[J.Black]

MMMM nothing like a hot cup of Joe. Well, on another good note, this was fantastic JW! I must say, you speaking really puts a whole different effect on the poem. I read it much differently than you did. What I like about you is that you always choose to pick some of the best words for your pieces and they just work for you. I especially grew in love with the lines: "the raspy chime of teaspoon in ceramic mug" and the fact this really made one think! Time is precious, they don't say that for nothing!

[Another Relic]

Awesome poem and I love your voice. It adds so much to the poem for me. I could go into a long drawn-out technical approach to the poem, but unfortunatly I don't know how. LOL Material things are nice but the soul with its own internal clock are what matters. What we do with our time is more important then how we buy it.

I suppose there are many interpretations to this poem and to me that's one of the reasons you are so good. You give your audience something to think about. Great job.

[just rose.]

This makes me think of TS Eliot in Prufrock, "I have measured out my life in coffee spoons." I like the onomatopoeic sounds which nevertheless depict a tension regarding precision and measurement, creating a sort of counterbalance which you resolve in the final line's metronome. The reading adds an additional dimension to this. I also like poems that end in a question.

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

metronome heartbeats *smiles..where do you get these magical words from..i envy that quality of yours jenny..
every poem of yours has something so fresh about it..so original ...

[Iota]

I could listen to this all day long :) It did cut off the last two words of the poem however it doesn't matter since we get to listen to your voice :)P

[The Thracian]

Sadly your heartbeat doesn't really give you a sense of when it is during the day, nor are we really able to consciously keep track of it the entire day, let alone gander guesses at how long we slept for. There isn't much else to this poem, besides the attempt at a romantic conclusion... I also find the first verse of your last strophe to be an awkward thing -- maybe the remedy would be to replace 'what's' with 'at'... I'm certain this would get snaps (because clapping demands too much commitment) in a small nowhere café...

This is also a reflection of the greatly malicious idiolitric influence the free market has had on our ought to be socialist world. En autres mots: me, me, me, at the expense of you, you, you... (not the singular you either)