The Tick

Mantle Clock

image by J. Lyman, messed with by Charley

And does the mantle
clock truly strike
the hours and count
the minutes of my dreams?

Or does it only while I lie
restless in insomniac torture
faith, extending
the night indefinitely?

What more?

What more to purpose
than to keep
me sleepless, sweating
as the chimes slowly howl
in my ears?

And when the jazz comes
alive in my ears
at ten past five,
should I curse
the clock for making

Or praise
it for keeping
time and tempo
to the nightmare
of my unrelenting
sleepless nights?

It’s open link night at dVerse Poets Pub, which is to say, “Anything goes!”  It can be a wild ride into poetic darkness and at the same time into the brightest of sunrises, supernovas, or simple flash photography (retro style with a Kodak Instamatic and those awesome flash cubes of yore!).


23 thoughts on “The Tick

  1. Fabulous pace in this poem of movement at a time when there should be no movement. Insomniac torture – a precise turn of phrase that we all connect with at times. This is wonderfully written!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this and know this, as in the torture of the alarm waking me from the ‘at last(!)’ I have finally fallen asleep.
    It reminds me too of nights spent in hospital when sleep seems elusive and the clock slows in its beat, making the night seem eternal.
    Anna :o]

    Liked by 1 person

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