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clockwork (naked & alone)
by Richard Paez
so this is where i sit
winding up excuses
wonder when the clockwork
will come back 'round to me
and i could dream this dream forever
wind the spring a little tighter
forward motion keeps me breathing
forward motion keeps me alive
and i could dream this dream forever
but i'm losing tension
losing forward motion
and i'm coming
coming to a stop
where the dreams have too
i'm left naked and alone
{wind the spring a little tighter}
now all is still
all is timeless
and this is where i sit
watching
and from here i see you
not quite yet scarred
not quite yet used
but soon forgetting me
so this is where i sit
winding up excuses
and this is where i sit
watching
and from here i see you
{wondering}
from here i see you
{winding up}
so this is where i sit
desperate for knowing
when the clockwork
will come back 'round to me
and this is where i sit
{begging you to please
wind the spring a little tighter} 09/29/2003 Author's Note: /please judge harshly/
another version of the truth: http://www.pathetic.org/poem.php?page=library.php&i_memberid=551&i_poemid=1065120352&i_folderid=275&mode=
Posted on 09/30/2003
Copyright © 2024 Richard Paez
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jason Wardell on 09/30/03 at 03:30 AM I really enjoy the repetition throughout this, the only time it throws me off a bit is on "this is where i sit" (#2) It has a very cold, mechanical feel to it, which (while it may be your intent... looks like it) may or may not work in this kind of poem. Excepting when you look at it from a living vs. mechanical point of view, in which case very cool. :) This is as harsh as I can get, sorry 'bout that. |
| Posted by Sarah Brookes on 09/30/03 at 04:08 PM Definite undertones of a masochistic nature. There's something painful and jarring about the way the cool detatchment of the words (and the colours) meet that nagging need for... Well, I don't know exactly.
I like it. As with a lot of your gubbins, there's a compelling, rhythmic beat, which drags you through the stanzas irresistibly.
It feels like glass shards.
Breaking and repeating. |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 10/01/03 at 06:11 PM A very ingenious concept... especially when you associate tension with watching and time. The three of them work very well together in this verse. |
| Posted by Alex Smyth on 10/04/03 at 03:09 AM It comes across to me very fatalistic. Tho active in the moment, soon the buzzer will sound and everyone will leave losing, somehow. If that is your aim, fine work! Quite unsettling, but in a very artistic, poetic way. |
| Posted by JD Clay on 10/04/03 at 01:57 PM Much like the cyclical clock itself, you could wind and re-wind this pessimistic poem into a frenzy and all you would end up with is a tense mainspring. The only variable here is that time, unlike our imperfect, perpetual self, is an absolute concept, but your metaphoric usage is quite meaningful poetically. The only thing this forlorn piece is missing, as I see it, is a comfy chair, and a cold six-pack whilst you wait.
Peace... |
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