Minute Inked

We harness time with clock hands,
pushing back and leaping forward
in a designed whim to master the sun.

Whether the gold marble sparkles in blue
or hides behind clouded gray, its light
is assigned to space crowded by immediate.

Freedom exhales a weighted sigh
it must be bound by ticking handcuffs
to a schedule minute inked with frenzy.


©Susie Clevenger 2015

Comments

Anonymous said…
It would be so nice not to be chained to that clock.
brudberg said…
I feel that clock tether me sometimes .. a real tight scare.
I often feel the weight of that clock--really liked this --esp the last stanza
Gail said…
Freedom in handcuffs. I like that imagery.
said…
This is very good!
Jim said…
A minute inked with frenzy might be tolerable if it is scheduled.
Susie, thank you for a reminder of the part clocks play in our lives. I needed it, 'slow down.'

..
Marian said…
Ticking handcuffs?!?! Argh, that stressed me right out. :)
Kerry O'Connor said…
One of the best poems I've read about the concept of time.
Margaret said…
"a designed whim to master the sun."

Who do we think we are? Excellent insight.
M. A. S. said…
I like how the sun is tied to time here. It's kind of mind-blowing to me. And the ticking handcuffs are amazing.
One of the blessings of retirement is to lose the ticking handcuffs. Today, for instance, is cold, windy and raining fiercely so I'm hunkered down, reading, writing and having tea with my next door neighbor. Perfect.
rallentanda said…
The clock rules us all. I don't think we can truly be free of it unless one drops out completely on a desert island somewhere!
Magaly Guerrero said…
I don't think I ever thought about the kind of pressure most of the world puts on the Sun... But yes, it makes perfect sense. How stifling...