The Clock

On By Lauren Scott, AuthorIn Poetry

You stare at the clock anticipating an answer, and the clock has no idea of the power lying in its hands. The infuriating face meets your stare as if to ask, “What?” You hold onto the words that fell from the tongue like a lifeline since your life resides on the edge. Trust lived in your heart at the time. But syllables soar far above your reach with no substance. The answer has yet to reveal itself. Waiting is a lifetime occupation. So, your fingers form a steady grip around the bottle as you tip it over, pouring…You watch the golden liquid glide over the cubes like ocean waves rolling over ice glaciers. Your logical self desires to perform a task of importance, a distraction, to trick your thoughts and busy your hands. But then your eyes find the clock again. Mind and body become stuck, paralyzed from emotions out of your control, and the only thing that makes sense is indulging in another sip. The burning down your throat is one sensation you can truly understand.

a crutch of liquid
soothes frustration of vagueness
living in darkness

Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites ©2024 – All rights reserved.
Photo by Jordan Benton on Pexels.com

Website: baydreamerwrites.com
Author Of The Month, May 2023 Spillwords Press
Monthly Contributor, Gobbers-Masticadores Literary Website
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B08NCRH4MK
Author Latest Release Ever So Gently: A Collection of Poems
Author, More than Coffee: Memories in Verse and Prose
Author, Finding a Balance: A Collection of Poems
Author, New Day, New Dreams: A Poetry Collection
Co-Author, Petals of Haiku
Co-Author, This is How We Grow
Co-Author, Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships
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79 thoughts on “The Clock”

  7. Powerful, Lauren. So nice to have found your blog. Your writing captivates…especially this:
    “You hold onto the words that fell from the tongue like a lifeline since your life resides on the edge. Trust lived in your heart at the time.”
    I think I’ve lived that moment over and over again and watched others struggle with the same tension – without relief. Thank you so much. 💕

    1. Hi Victoria, thanks so much for your wonderful comment! I truly appreciate your kind words! This began as a short poem, but then it evolved into a haibun, which I’ve enjoyed writing lately. It’s always good to hear that a poem resonates, but when it’s a sad poem, I’m at a loss for words as to my response. Maybe we’ve all lived this at some time or another. I’m following you also, and it’s great to connect – heading over your way soon. Thanks again! ❤️

      1. Thank you for the warm welcome, Lauren! I understand exactly what you mean about resonance when a piece is bittersweet or sorrowful. I love your thought about those experiences being unifiers – things we’ve all experienced at one point or another. Yes, yes. Big hugs to you! 💕

  15. The dark intensity of this piece is startling and so realistic. Such a sense of bitter dread, almost, and the resignation that the drink at the end is inevitable. This feels so much different from your other work, Lauren. It’s a departure into bleak emotions, and splendidly done. 😊

    1. Your words provide so much encouragement to keep writing, Mike! Not that I’ll stop, but I so appreciate them. I’m trying new things, new forms, appealing to all emotions, not just smiles and butterflies. 🙂 They’re not reality 100% of someone’s life. So, thank you very much, my friend! 🤗

  23. About the only things I have ever gained from staring at a clock is stress and minutes dragging on forever or disappearing in a flash, depending on the occasion, Lauren. I like how you captured its power. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

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