metronome

This poem wasn't actually an assignment. I wrote it one evening out of jealousy and envy for a girl, who ended up not being worth the emotional effort. Originally intended as a slam poetry piece.

(72 BPM)

The metronome is ticking

I’m supposed to start now

Normally I would sing something here

Or there might be a beat

Ticking with the metronome.

But I can’t do any of that

It’s far too difficult right now

With these feelings in my heart

And thoughts in my head

I’d rather not listen to.

(88 BPM)

Sometimes I have to wonder why I was put here

Who I am, inside and outside

Nobody will give me an answer

Because no one knows or understands

Who I am, inside and outside.

The scariest thing for me

Is that even I don’t really know me

I’m just as much a stranger to myself

As that fellow riding his bicycle

And it’s frightening to me.

(104 BPM)

Some will tell me chivalry is dead

Yet I keep trying to bring it back

You write a poem or song for the one you love

And the one you love is scared

Because they just don’t understand.

(132 BPM)

And so you YELL after them

Asking what the matter is

Because you really don’t know

Then you just ask yourself

And spend your life trying to figure it all out.

(144 BPM)

Your head just beats with anger

Trying to solve the mystery that is yourself

And you dig deeper and deeper and deeper

Scraping and tearing so much that it hurts

And the pain doesn’t go away.

It just gets worse and worse as you grow

It just hurts more with the more you know

It’s ironic that we love to pursue knowledge

But the metronome just ticks faster and faster

Every time we learn what we don’t want to know.

(162 BPM)

I keep forgetting my goals in life

I keep forgetting the important things that affect me

Because it’s just so puzzling what I apparently did

And I ask why I deserve what has taken place

Even though I meant simply no harm at all.

It just tick, tick, TICKS ME OFF

Because nobody’s saying anything to me

Nobody will bother to warn me about these things

And so I walk headfirst into them and hurt myself

And it makes me want to hurt them back.

(176 BPM)

So my feelings all melt together into pure hate

Even though I know that hate is the worst thing

Because someone will always get hurt

Even someone innocent who did nothing

Just because you want the other to suffer through it.

So I write my hatred out with my hands

Because that’s supposed to help drain it all out

But now I’m on a roll, and I don’t want to stop

Because the pain, the hate, the suffering

Just feels way too good to stop.

(184 BPM)

I don’t want to stop

No, this has become my obsession

It’s become my addiction, interrupting the life I know

Because it feels good and I don’t care about results

Because now, NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.

(200 BPM)

And the throbbing, that ticking

It keeps going and going and going

Faster and faster with each evil thought

And I don’t want it to stop anymore

Because I’m in far, far too deep now.

But these voices I’m now hearing

They tell me to STOP, STOP, STOP

Because I’m hurting myself with my thoughts

And I’ll hurt someone else with them

So STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP!!!

(Tacet)

And so I finally do, after all

But life has passed on by

So there is no more time to appreciate

Because I’ve done myself in with anger

I’m sorry it ended like this.

Author's Note

I always envision the performer onstage with an old metronome, pausing briefly to change the tempo at the indicated points. Would this make a good slam poetry piece? All constructive criticism is welcome!