In time

Forest Terminal, oil on canvas, 122x182cm, 2007, by Mike Worrall

solitary standing on a cross way,

time ticking… tick, tick, tick, ticking,

every trice, a misery, a perplexed

epiphany, figure out, surmise, comprehend,

swift, swifter, amid the railway tracks,

trains coming, but distant, somewhere

concealed in the haze, voices of which

permeating, in the pores of air,

signal- red and green, one halting over,

the other not meant, to be attained,

tick, tick, ticking, still ticking,

solitary standing, on a cross way,

undulating assertions within,

shouting out the names of locations,

of times, past and future, of truths

and lies, of decisions and indecisions,

of memories, forgotten and alive,

move on, moving on, comprehend,

to board or not, the destinations

impassive, they do not care,

shrouded in a black apparel,

to discover the ways to endure it all,

time ticking, ticking, gone,

still standing, statued, entombed

in the instance of that moment,

stagnant, eroding pole of life,

no more ticking, but standing,

bewildered, unknowing, stopped

in the parallels of time, the time gone by,

standing still, at the cross way, ceased in time

.

The Sunday challenge features paintings by Mike Worrall at Imaginary garden with real toads. This poem is written, inspiring from the painting,  Forest Terminal.

I am tagging it as the post for 11 November for NaBloPoMo.

 

Advertisements

17 thoughts on “In time

  1. HA I reaLLY APPRECIATED THE CADENCES YOUR LANGUAGE SET UP. tHEY DROVE THE POEM FORWARD. i READ IT OUT LOUD AS i USUALLY DO WITH MOST POETRY AND IT WAS VERY GRAND–ALMOST gINSBURESQUE, OR wHITMAN. rEALLY A PLEASURE TO READ. >kb Excuse the capitals, my shift key got locked and I wasn’t aware of it until after. KB

    Like

  2. Brendan says:

    The meter here is what works the poem, incessant, impatient, stuck, dissembling, always going back to zero and going round again. You climbed into the image so well!

    Like

  3. Your use of repetition and of meter is what makes the surreal feel of this picture, and the sentiments of which you write, come alive for the reader. Quite a trip–without leaving the farm,as we old hippies say.

    Like

  4. Is it the Green light that is never meant? I felt the painting multiply as your words sped up, a mix of images from the film Hugo and the artist Escher flew through my mind and as much as I HATE ticking, I gasped when it stopped. The word CEASE, perfect.

    Like

  5. I like the use of the time ticking ticking away ~ To not make a decision, to not moved in either direction, is also a decision is it not ~ Enjoyed your reflections HA ~

    Thanks for playing with Real Toads Sunday Challenge ~ Good to see you 🙂

    Grace

    Like

Here is where you tell me something...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s