I'm feeling as though the Monday poetry stretch should just be renamed the Tuesday poetry stretch! Monday has become the enemy. I can't seem to get myself together early in the week, especially with class on Monday.
In any case, I may be late, but I'm still feeling poetic. (Heck, I'm always feeling poetic!)
I'm thinking about time today. Yesterday was my 18th anniversary. I don't know where the time has gone! Within two months of getting married I defended my dissertation, moved to Virginia, and began my job at the university. It truly feels like it's gone by in the blink of an eye. And don't get me started on how fast my son is growing up! He'll be moving to middle school in the fall.
While I've been musing on time passing, I have also been reading poetry. Here's one I like to use in my math class.
Time Passesby Ilo Orleans
Sixty secondsPass in a minute.Sixty minutesPass in an hour.Twenty-four hoursPass in a day--And that's how TIMEKeeps passing away!
Are you too feeling the passage of time? Then join me this week in writing a poem about time. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll share the results here later this week.
Great poem. Poetry Tuesday works for me!! Renee
ReplyDeleteTICK, TICK, TICK
ReplyDeleteTick, tick, tick,
chime, chime, chime,
Why are people
slaves to time.
Wake up, brush teeth,
wash face, eat.
Human beings
live to compete.
I would like
to make a bet
at who has
ever SEEN
a sunset.
Chime, chime, chime,
tick, tick, tick,
Constant rushing
will make
you sick.
(c) Charles Waters 2012 all rights reserved.
Although this isn't a time poem (but a numbers one), I delighted in hearing "Numbers" by Mary Cornish this morning on the Writer's Almanac radio show: http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/.
ReplyDeleteI have a poem in my files that I wrote several years ago about the passage of time:
ReplyDeleteDesert Rain
Think of those hot
afternoons in school,
the last long hour
when the classroom clock
struggles to tick and a yawn
is too much trouble...
In the desert, a long
slow summer yawns,
with insects ticking
and hidden eyes turning
skyward, waiting
for the cool bell of rain.
--Kate Coombs, 2012
all rights reserved
Love it!
DeleteMe, too! Love that last line, Kate.
DeleteFriends
ReplyDeleteYou are the tick,
I am the tock.
You are the second hand,
I am the clock.
You are morning,
I am the night.
You are come home,
I am take flight.
You are the watch band.
I am the wrist.
You are the timer,
I make the list.
Together we have
the very best time.
I am the poet,
You are the rhyme.
©2012 Jane Yolen, all rights reserved
Wonderful! I especially like the line "I make the list" and the last two lines.
DeleteThanks for the prompt and those wonderful poems. Here's my limerick:
ReplyDeleteTime’s “Flight” (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane
It is said that “time flies,” but that’s wrong,
Cuz the flights I’ve been on take too long.
I think time really flees
In a flash. It’s a tease,
Speeding fast as a dreadful act’s gong.
Time's "Flight"
Happy anniversary!
ReplyDeleteI'll have a quick stretching session.
ReplyDeleteThe time it takes
to write this line,
a baby was born
in Palestine.
The time it takes
to edit this poem,
a generation
will return home.
Timeline
ReplyDeleteIn the space of a day—
or so it seems—
the wintery world
turns yellow and green.
In the space of an hour—
or thereabouts—
dahlias bloom,
maples leaf-out.
In the space of a minute—
no more, no less—
crabapples fall,
storm winds blow west.
In the space of an instant—
a nano, a blink—
the blistery sun
turns purplish-pink…
the shadowy moon
goes pallid and grey,
and snowflakes alight
in the blustery night—
and the wintery world
is once again white.
(c)juliekrantz, 2012