Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table




Mine is the house of ticking clocks

Discordantly measuring the drip of time,

Dust dancing in the slow sunlight

Of the eternal Sunday afternoon.

Time crawls by on rheumatic knees;

The sun rise, the sun sets.

A week of empty fullness passes

Between each morning and each night.

The seasons turn sluggishly round,

The surfaces gather dust to plough

Furrows in and sow the seeds

Of future lives and grime,

Awaiting the apocalypse of dusters.

Tiny kingdoms rise and fall,

Eternity in a pinch of dirt,

And I wait, patient as a stone,

For ripples of change to grow,

Circles widening endlessly in water

Altering without alteration

Until the world shall change or end.


 by Viv


January 14, 2009 - Posted by | life, love, personal, poetry, psychology, Viv's Poetry, writing | , , , , ,


  1. …I can hear the ancient clock in the hallway, unoiled, counting out the seconds…nice one, Viv.

    Comment by kevmoore | January 14, 2009

  2. Sdaly the clocks in question are an assortment of cheap modern ones dotted around the house, that never tick in synch with each other, and never, despite adjusting, ever register the exact same time.
    The clock in the staff room was deliberately set five minutes fast to compensate for the tendancy of one member of the team who was always late. Then some busybody reset it to the right time and all of us (who had been adjusting to it being fast by ignoring it until the right time) were late as well! Now I only go on my own watch and that becomes the arbiter in arguments with students who claim it is brea or lunchtime by their time pieces…

    Comment by viv66 | January 14, 2009

  3. What a powerful poem again, Viv… there is so much there which I can feel in the very depths of my being… it says exactly and in an incredibly beautiful way what sometimes drives me crazy and makes me feel, that I can’t go on with life any more…

    Comment by Miki | January 14, 2009

  4. You got it Miki…
    I wrote this about 3 years ago and I come back to the same Sunday afternoon space again and again and still don’t know what to do.

    Comment by viv66 | January 14, 2009

  5. I’ll think about it… I am quite sure that there is something to do about it.

    Comment by Miki | January 14, 2009

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