When I was a child I thought time was something stored in a clock If we wanted more of it, all we had to do was turn a key to the right every eight days. Once I turned the key to the left and lost what seemed like forever locked in my room. Thanks for reading Paul’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
In my opinion, room can both be a physical room or a mental one. The mental room we create is much like the physical one, but it's different for every person. And about time, i can say the same thing. How we spend time in our mental room isn't the same as when we spend time in the real world.
The key to time gone by is to follow the ticking of the crocodile that swallowed a clock in the story of Peter Pan. Childhood is never far away. Sitting in a corner chair being punished is a lasting memory. The clock ticks tock . Here comes the crock. Wait.
So many of life’s moments touched on in this poem. A prized clock with no hands because my mother kept spinning them, unpunished for it, I still have the key to that clock.
I think this is one of the reasons to write, Patris, to create something that can reach out and touch another, this saying, “I’ve been there” is really saying “We’ve been there.”
Wonderful comment, An! I'd like to think that's what I was trying to do when I broke the spring on the clock but I don't think I was bright enough to think of that. Thank you!
Makes sense. We make time whatever we want it to be. After all, it's a human construct. So, as a child you locked it in a clock. In my case --and for the longest time-- I let it shadow me, always beside me... Until I realized that time was just one moment in the here and now that might just last an eternity.
It was very logical really, for you to turn the key left to see what happened. Children’s brains are so beautifully inquisitive. Perhaps you wanted the day to last longer or even to recapture yesterday ! Or maybe you didn’t want tomorrow. This is a gorgeous poem.
Thank you, Maureen. I was young and I’m certain the idea of turning back time never occurred to me. I think it was curiosity more than anything else. My twin brother took apart a washing machine at about the same age and he put it back together—but had parts left over.
So much time ordered to my room. My reward was disappearing in my mind from those that ordered. I was safer alone in my head , Wendy flying away with Peter.
I love this poem, Paul. It's intuitive and describes exactly how a child would view time when the key was turned in the opposite direction and he got in trouble.
In my opinion, room can both be a physical room or a mental one. The mental room we create is much like the physical one, but it's different for every person. And about time, i can say the same thing. How we spend time in our mental room isn't the same as when we spend time in the real world.
I think you're right, Negar. Thank you for reading and for the insightful comment.
You're welcome, Paul. I always read your poems completely because they help me reflect on my life more deeply.
Thank you, Negar, that is such a wonderful thing to read—I'm grateful!
😉
Time is measured by routine.
The key to time gone by is to follow the ticking of the crocodile that swallowed a clock in the story of Peter Pan. Childhood is never far away. Sitting in a corner chair being punished is a lasting memory. The clock ticks tock . Here comes the crock. Wait.
The islands at the edge
Contorting the land
Plate tilts on its edge
Shattering that by glaciation shaped
Of rock and golden sand
Driving through these islands of memory
Driving through these islands at the edge
Not all time is lost (forever)
As People Who shape you give way
To people who make you
Giving way to you
As you arrive somewhere
Closer to the silence
Closer to that edge
Sapphire dark a pale sky hue tourmaline heather hills
black to purple/pink aquamarine emerald green
In the silence find me washed by the waves
Soul of a poet heart of a warrior
We inhabit these lands
These islands at the edge
By the precipice you will find me
I was separated from my eldest daughter for a long time. We are now making up for that lost time
Congratulations, Charles - I have a daughter, too, and we are separated by almost 2,000 miles, but we are in constant contact. Happy for you!
She is a big part of how I come to prosper and live so well
I understand.
clearly Time is now on your side. What a great Time to be alive.
This is beautiful
Thank you for your poem!
Your poem resonated with me and took me to the poem. I’m currently seeking images to illustrate it.
Persevering with communication and being there even at a distance is the juice of that love.
oh... shoot... I laughed with delight at the end. Was that wrong?
I fear I find humor too often in things.
To be able to find humor everywhere is a great asset. Hold on to it, DeeDee D!
So many of life’s moments touched on in this poem. A prized clock with no hands because my mother kept spinning them, unpunished for it, I still have the key to that clock.
I think this is one of the reasons to write, Patris, to create something that can reach out and touch another, this saying, “I’ve been there” is really saying “We’ve been there.”
Yes it consoles us knowing we’ve shared something.
And a big part of that poem
Time is a funny thing!
Why is it that some things seem like yesterday and orhers 3 lifetimes ago... amazing.
We can mess with our standardised increments but not with the reality of it.
No matter how hard we try, we cannot turn back "the clock".
Thank you!!
Wonderful comment, An! I'd like to think that's what I was trying to do when I broke the spring on the clock but I don't think I was bright enough to think of that. Thank you!
Thank you Paul!
I did that once too.. didn't break the clock but I got scolded...
Kids... one simple action with such huge implications ...
We should listen more, they usually have a great message.
If the world would wake up to the fact how precious time really is, this place would be unrecognizable! :)
Another interesting image Paul. Taken literally, I can feel for the youth stuck in the room due to an error.
Metaphorically, it can mean, at least to me, time wasted by dwelling on the times past.
So cool. Thank you for sharing this Paul
Thanks for your comments, Ika. I think both are valid ways to view what the poem is reaching for.
Makes sense. We make time whatever we want it to be. After all, it's a human construct. So, as a child you locked it in a clock. In my case --and for the longest time-- I let it shadow me, always beside me... Until I realized that time was just one moment in the here and now that might just last an eternity.
Thanks for reading, Devin, and for your comments.
You're welcome. But my name is not Devin...
I’m sorry, D.C. - I must have seen the name on your stack and connected it with your initial. My apologies!
No worries. My first name is Dan, but I go by D. C. Thank you.
Charming and magical!
Thank you, Anu!
It was very logical really, for you to turn the key left to see what happened. Children’s brains are so beautifully inquisitive. Perhaps you wanted the day to last longer or even to recapture yesterday ! Or maybe you didn’t want tomorrow. This is a gorgeous poem.
Thank you, Maureen. I was young and I’m certain the idea of turning back time never occurred to me. I think it was curiosity more than anything else. My twin brother took apart a washing machine at about the same age and he put it back together—but had parts left over.
Through the eyes of a child.
Time. Now wish I had more of it.
I think that’s a pretty common sentiment, Monica—Thank you!
So much time ordered to my room. My reward was disappearing in my mind from those that ordered. I was safer alone in my head , Wendy flying away with Peter.
Exactly, Wendy!
I love this poem, Paul. It's intuitive and describes exactly how a child would view time when the key was turned in the opposite direction and he got in trouble.
Excellent writing.
Thanks for reading, C.J., and Thank you for your comment—this is exactly what I hoped the poem would convey.
You're more than welcome, Paul. I'm fast becoming a fan.
😊🙏
I’m turning that last line over in my head. Nicely done, Paul.
When you're an active kid, it seems like forever if you get sent to your room for some minor infraction, like breaking the spring on the clock
Absolutely! So true! Having to wait as a kid was torture. Now I wonder how I can put the brakes on time.