tour
language

Pendulation

Pendulation

Written by:




I must be good at something –

law of averages and such –

just haven’t figured out yet

what it is or quite how much


broken bells

and broken clocks

and rusted keys

to broken locks


I know nobody’s perfect

so the converse must be true –

everyone must have a place

and something they can do


broken clocks

and broken plates

and hinges hung

with broken gates


the people rushing past me

all have somewhere else to be -

six billion people out there

so there must be one for me


even broken clocks

they say

are right a couple

times a day.

joaquin
View all posts by joaquin
joaquins website
address
June 28, 2010
tour
Post Under Flash Fiction, Poetry - Comments
privacy
  • http://foolishnessofthings.blogspot.com Aniket

    There was a time in my life I would have resonated with these words. Not now though.
    I guess everyone has a down and dumped phase in life one time or the other.

    But this is so melancholy. So innocent. So genius.
    Your poems should seriously be included into school curriculum. I’m going to show your book to my school’s English teacher when I go back home the next time.

  • http://www.kreation-soul.blogspot.com Kriti

    This has to be one of my favorites on this blog. What does amaze me is brilliant, seemingly effortless rhythm in this poem.
    Aniket, pick up that guitar of your and compose some tune for this charming piece here. It’s quite singable!

  • http://keepingsecrets-karen.blogspot.com karen

    Nobody — and I mean NOBODY — does it better than jc! Perfect pitch in poetry.

  • http://lifeaseetees.blogspot.com/ Kits

    The words tease me. They can be taken literally and figuratively. I don’t know which one I should pick. Sigh. Lovely lovely rhythm too.

  • Sarah

    I love how you played with inertia and rhythm here. I felt the pull between momentum and stall-out. Funny part is–the internal rhythm of the poem is so smooth and effortless that it slyly undermines the narrator’s reflections.

    The last stanza, of course, is perfect. In fact, there was something very tight and circular about the whole piece. Your clock is never, ever broken.