9.26.14 The Writer’s Fight With Time


So I got in an imaginary fight with time today. Like Golda Meir said, “I must govern the clock, not be governed by it.” But it’s not true. We actually have no control over time, because if I did, it would have listened to me today when I said, “Back off! Would you slow down and let me think for a minute please!?!” Alas, time is not a kind friend, and doesn’t share itself well, even when you ask politely. I decided I didn’t really like the way this selfish decision (on time’s part) affected my writing, and the fact that because I don’t have enough time, I can never seem to finish what I set out to do.  So here is a poem about me – a girl who loves a craft she has no time for, but steals away the dawning hours with, just the same.  I love you writing … I hate you time … can’t we all just get along?  Enjoy.

The Writer’s Fight With Time

There is a girl
(in her own world)
of which she from her pen creates

where phrases turn
(ideas burn)
to where her spirit levitates

she fills a page
(unwritten stage)
to which she, glad, appropriates

her witty charm
(does not bear harm)
to those with which she congregates

This girl has found
(un-silent sound)
to others, often irritates

but to this she
(quiet that be)
is sweet time she negotiates

and so this girl
(words in a whirl)
finds only lack of silence grates

where time away
(from memory’s play)
is sole the one thing that she hates

she’ll play life’s chance
(no backward glance)
emboldened as she imitates

what is a child
(her nature wild)
pretend is what initiates

her story told
(now will unfold)
imagined, she appreciates

until the hour
(the dawning dour)
she finally capitulates

because her eyes
(to no surprise)
cannot escape the dreamy fates

and so her tale
(no end, must trail)
and on the shelf still sits and waits

Literarily yours,


4 thoughts on “9.26.14 The Writer’s Fight With Time

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