the first poem I ever wrote "The Clock"

Tis was a hideous New England day in late march- the clouds were raining wet grey, petals were on the brink of blossom and I was being driven crazy by the tick and the tock that rang from my clock.

I've always loved writing, I've known that it was what I was meant to spend the rest of my life doing since I was 8 years old, but for some reason... I just never could write poetry. That is, until I read "Come In" by Robert Frost and could not escape the tormenting echoes those words thrust upon the walls of my mind. Angst charged at my lungs, uncertainty pumped in my veins and my inescapable fear of time needed to find a means of release....

and so birthed the start of what I am now most passionate about- poetry and it came in the form of...

The Clock

 

The soles of my shoes

Have faded away

From pacing this pavement

Day after day.

The cracks in the road

Are beginning to grow

Like raging tides

Subject to what Neptune decides.

The tick of my watch

Beats with my pulse

As my eyes watch it,

Fearful and lost.

I hear the tick ring

The tock measures a second

It pounds in my ears,

The day comes to an end,

And it echoes the beat

Deep in my head.

I regret with no doubt

The time I spend wasted about

Feeling indifferent,

Strained,

From this growing pain

That is subject to the clock.

 

I’m afraid

Of the sound of the rain

As it drips on my window

And falls drop by drop

Like the watch on my wrist

Calling tick- tock.

There are mornings when I wake

Wanting to make

The day as beautiful as the changing

Color of trees

As they blow in the breeze,

Humming so sweetly,

Despite their falling leafs.

But as my feet crush

These fallen flowers,

I listen to the crunch

And see them turning to dust.

All around,

Their colors once beautiful

Are turning to brown.

Then the boat of my clock

Ticks from its dock

And the sails howl with the wind crying- tock tock.

 

I see a rose

Whose beauty is enclosed

In petals to blossom.

As the day strolls

It begins to unfold

To the suns shining rays

As they reign and parade

All spaces around

From mountain to cave

From sea- side to town.

But as the night comes

It withers away,

Its petals undone,

Right when life had begun.

And I turn and I run

Trying to find silence.

I rock back and forth

To the tick and the tock

That scream from my clock.

When I think all is not lost

The ticking gets louder

And the tocking

Will not stop.

Like a brute of a man

Buried by the hands of his own flaws

As he tragically falls

And is caved by the walls

Of his watch

As it ticks

And it tocks.

Until his heart stops. 

Reviews

[hannahspelledbackwards]

If this is your first poem, my gosh, I'm sure your recent ones are amazing. I've been writing for a very long time now and none of my works could compare to this. I loved the rhyme scheme and how it has a story and held my attention the whole time. I love it! Great write :)

[kaylynnmelody♥]

this was absoulety great!

[SilentSKY]

This is wonderful! I enjoyed every second of it, hearing the sound of the clock. I loved some of the metaphors you used...it was fantastic.

[Poeticpiers]

an enjoyable read with a regular rhyme scheme ,a good underlying theme only criticisms from me is the lack of meter.

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing poem. You had to be a reader at a young age. Great description and vision for a 8 year old. A excellent poem. I like the many stories inside this poem.
Coyote

[Drako]

hard to believe this is your first poem. perhaps i should take a gander at that book that got you started, because this is still such great work. if you hadn't said it, we'd never have known this was your first poem. you're an inspiration to read. continue writing the way you do. you certainly brighten up a dreary day

[KAREN]

I think I need to borrow your book so i can learn to write like that!

[sarah]

WOw! so amazing I wish my first poem could have been this good!

[InkSlinger]

Wow, Frost filled you lungs, your heart and your mind.. and taught you, without speaking directly to you, how the words of life should touch us all.. Well, very well crafted.. BLOWN AWAY.. super write..

[Truman S. Booth]

I can hardly believe this was your first poem. It is elegant, powerful, moving, thought-provoking, entertaining, capturing, riveting, swelling with some lines of perfect rhyme and meter that contrast the expertly placed, seemingly chaotic (yet beautiful) lines. Thank you for taking the time to write this. It is utterly brilliant.