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.

[Gandré]

wonderful onomatopoeia, and a moment in stillness of your expressionism piece, your ideas of beauty and harmony worked nicely to express your emotional state. when the only time she relies upon
is already measured by
her metronome heartbeats?----this was so accurate...how it made me feel her loneliness, amazing metaphor. 100p

[Devons]

There is a subtle, potent, and clinically-suburban charm about this poem which flashes through like slicing-off an apparently inconsequential moment of time. The urbane and faintly ironic descriptive observations bring to mind periods spent sitting nervously in waiting rooms; just another number, just another patient. And the one important detail that is omitted from the scene-setting in this poem is the one which seems to reverberate more by its absence than its inclusion. It makes you wonder at the message that is being conveyed about the preciousness and delicacy of the appreciation of time... The woman is in a doctor's clinic, perhaps... suddenly concerned for her health in anticipation of what the medic might tell her... re-evaluating the significance of meaningless tiny possessions, and that her existence itself is more important than anything that these might offer; that her life will suddenly become short.
There are probably a few possible scenarios that could be imagined from this open-ended moment... but the effect is the same in terms of philosophy: the measurement of time is meaningless when compared to the measurement of life.
A neatly imagined and presented piece of work, displaying a poignant irony and balance between ordinary insignificance and the fragility of life.

[An owl on the moon]

Your thoughts play profoundly with time... that marked by machines versus that of the heart... and you do so in a delicate, mesmerizing way. Beautiful!

[Brittany]

I really enjoyed this piece. The 'clink-swish-clink' and the 'accurate swiss innards'...these words tug on my jealous strings. Very well done, and I too find myself cursing all these 'doo-hickeys' and gadgets and gizmos. Humans are getting too dependent on all this un-reliable tech-nol-o-gy, It's really depressing.

[rash]

i really like this. nice words and things. beautiful poem.

[Nathan HUelsbeck]

have to agree with lota, i have always found you that way, i think that is why i find you so enduring and pretty much my fav poet to date. you rock!!!!!

[Iota]

Only you could take an ordinary scene and make it into poetry. yes i felt time ticking by slowly and the day dragging out. Great write,now I am thirsty for tea.

[Antonio Valentino]

Jennie I so love this, you really are a brilliant writer. Its not so much how many seconds click off our heart, but how we use them is it?

I'm glad I used some to read this. Any heartbeats reading you, is time wonderfully spent.

Antonio xx

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

wow. This is a very thought provoking and profound statement.
You really dug deep on this one.

[Wildfleour]

Time is irreverent and always follows its own rhythm, not some manmade invention.

Great poem.