On the Clock

A Spoken-Word Poem

This poem has never been performed for any spoken-word event, though I had often hoped to do so. It is a kind of reflection on wasted time and social-media.

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Photo by Thomas Bormans on Unsplash

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On the Clock

The ‘Great Clock’ stands
Silently ticking
Yet everyman hears
the demands that it’s speaking:
“Work
           Harder
                       Faster
                                 Longer
Never ceasing, 
always striving
Grasp at straws in frantic writhing!"

The ‘Great Clock’ laughs at man’s expense
The chaotic rush along the fence
“Build the wall that never ends!
Feed the land that’s never quenched!
Love lust, that never satisfies
Peer deep into the canyon’s eyes
And never turn to walk aside
Lest ye lose the ‘Great Clock’s’ prize"

Tic, tic, toc
The ‘Great Clock’ knocks
Tic, tic, toc
It never stops

Behold! The great invention of man!
Upon man it turns with a heavy hand!
Presented to Time as a gift for her service
Yet Time it took as a slave to its purpose
No longer can she be heard in the streets
Her voice has been muted by the ticking that beats -
its endless rhythm that speaks:

“Work
          Harder
                     Faster
                               Longer
To the sound of the ticking clock"
Tic, tic, toc

“Time is money!"
The Clock declares
“If you are to survive
you must sell me your shares!"

So men of Time from every corner
Sold their shares for golden dollars
The 'Great Clock’ revelled in this deception
For it promised wealth without discretion
Yet wealth alone did it so gain
And left poor men with naught but pain

Yet the ‘Great Clock’ knew
That not for long would work its rues
If men but took their moments few
To ponder upon their servitude

So a scheme the ticking hands devised
To set a fog before man’s eyes
It would wrap a web around mankind
of golden strands to cloud the mind
These gilded chains it would present
To every man with seconds unspent
Upon each polished link was written
Its falsely-chosen name: Connection
And so, the Clock was greatly pleased
To see men addled with such great ease

Yet Time began to sing anew
the voice she’d lost to the ‘Great Clock’ grew
A hoarse and halting whisper at first
She crooned a quiet and broken verse:
“Come rest and see the best of me
Heed not the ‘Tic, tic, toc’ of tyranny"
Her voice surged on, now soft but strong
Begging the faithful to sing along
“You used to measure my worth in the length of smiles upon sun-dials
Now, you count my breaths, contending to expedite travelled miles
To abate my flesh, and constrict my rondure
Is it not apparent that something is wrong here?"
Her voice rang intent upon melodies
Stringing rhyming rhythm of remedy
For stressful mankind, forgetful of rest
The ‘Great Clock’s’ design of fraudful excess

“Come, be still, in sweet quiescence,
Respite for a day, in lulled somnolence
Listen to my wisdom now
Allow the ‘Clock’ to take the bow
Work from rest, and rest you must
To be at your best through stress and love"

But woe to the man who trusts alone
In the work man’s hands have made
For he shall find, upon his Timeless rest
His labours were in vain
Man’s inventions shall not tread
Across that blessed plain
The vail of death shall purge the mortal realm
From souls as such a stain

So learn to rest, in life you may
And not the ’tic-tic-toc' obey
For nothing here shall be as queer
Upon that fateful day
As wasted time upon the grind
And love, left home, abstained

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Thanks for reading.