Her Name Was Time

[E.A Rumfield]

Such a sad face and such a sad name,
I remember her on days like today.
Such a sad name, her name was Time and,
she danced for me that night.
Oh how she danced,
with the moon in one hand
and an hourglass in the other,
the world revolved around the axis of her hips
and my world revolved around the finality of her eyes.
She danced a song in key with the world around.
She danced a somber melody
to the steady background of natures rhythm.
With the moon in one hand,
an hourglass in the other,
she danced a hopeless song
condemning us all.
It was getting late so I
tried to get her to leave
to see if I could have her heart
but it wasn't to be, she won mine
so I pulled it out of my chest
and lay it on the bar
I went home
Time
danced on

[hallaig]

As I Walked Out One Evening
by W. H. Auden


As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.


the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead- What a line. Trouble with writing about abstract concepts, especially a theme so well worn as the passage of time is that everyone's been there before and done it, no offence to you or anyone, much better. I think myself as a poet that to find your own voice is a matter of personalising the abstract. Everyone knows that time is deadly but no-one knows how it's affected you personally, how you've personally witnessed it etc.

[hillwalker]

Probably the best piece you have posted on here despite trailing a furrow already ploughed by so many others.

There's room for some trimming here and there but overall you're showing your true colours (I hope). Good stuff.

H

[Haunted]

It was getting late so I
tried to get her to leave
to see if I could have her heart
but it wasn't to be, she won mine
so I pulled it out of my chest
and lay it on the bar
I went home
Time
danced on

It reads rather nicely from the start and the personification works but it is here where your poetic talent is truly shining through.