Thursday, September 21, 2006

Daybreak ... for Poetry Thursday

This week's Poetry Thursday prompt is to go deep inside to see what's going on in there ... to write from our authentic self. This is not hard to do for me right now, as I have the poem below, written a number of years ago that fits as well today as it did when I wrote it.

I'm feeling crunched for time. I have too many things on my plate, all of which I delight in ... but there just aren't enough hours in the day to do them all. As if I needed another something on my to-do list, I signed up and am taking a 4 part pattern alteration class which meets once a week. I used to sew most of my own clothes and when my kids were little, all of their clothes. I've lately had the urge to do a bit of sewing again and that's how I've found myself in this predicament. The class is exciting ... this week I learned how to make the perfect pants pattern ... just for me ... and the fabrics available are more beautiful than ever.

Of course if I could get my studio organized I'd save myself lots of time. I think for now, I'm going to cut back on my blogging a bit to a couple of times a week, until I get my studio in order so that when I'm ready to work on a project, it's easy to access the space and the tools. I will naturally continue with One Deep Breath and Poetry Thursday.

Time managent is not a strength of mine. It's a nightmare ... like this poem!


A tranquil pool reflects
as only water can
the confection of moon
star lanterns
show the way down
to the mouth of a cave

A tattered moth
hands me her flame
tells me to wait
just inside at the edge
for a ferry to deliver me
to the middle of the night

Aboard the vessel
the oarsman leers
with eyes that glow
in burning sockets
his mouth overflowing
knots of squirming eels
I hold the flame close
easing my fear
a solitary owl hoots
at the sight of land

I am lifted to shore
by rigid talons
left on the sand
where a porcelain clock
elephant high
stands guard
naming the hours
as they race around
an eroding track

The clock strikes twelve
spills sleeping cuckoos
severed hands
left without time
frantic numerals gather momentum
lifting the flame to possibility
I ignite the ticking sky



brian said...


Very vivid poem. I can see the connection to the frantic time that your life is. I like the image of the journey and how it is done in different steps and modes of motion. Thanks for sharing your voice.

Thanks for stopping by both poems.

Anonymous said...

uerdgWow, this is so striking to me (sorry, a clock pun!) because I so often feel a great sense of time pressure. I especially relate to the image of the "porcelain clock, elephant high" and hours "racing around an eroding track." Wonderful imagery throughout!

Good luck in your quest to tame the time monster :)

Tammy said...

The imagery was fantastic and I'm really glad you are managing your time to meet your needs :)

paris parfait said...

Blogger is acting up again. Just left a comment which disappeared. Wonderful poem, rich with imagery filling my mind's eye. Well done, you! As for racing around, trying to get things done, I know exactly how you feel. Must get more organised. Sigh.