Ticking Tocking

Author's Note: Well, this poem is on my independent novel page, but I felt like it wasn't getting enough attention and I wanted some feedback. This poem is about a topic in my book came up about how time seems to fly right by, and there is not a thing that we can do to stop it, so I guess this poem is just the expression of these thoughts that we all encounter sometime during our life, and that will continue to show up within our lifetime, leaving bittersweet afterthoughts.

Ticking Tocking

In the house there is

Always a ticking tocking and a

Tocking ticking upon a moment of silence

That reminds us all of the fate that

Awaits us at the end of the hall where

The grandfather clock sits

Lurks with it's hands forever circling in

A motion of never ending counting
onetwo
       ticktock
              threefour
                     tocktick

It's face never revealing the

Slightest hint of emotion or hesitation to

Tell us the time tick tocking away faster

Each minute than the next almost like

His hands are trying to catch up for some

Important date that seems to ever loom

Closer and closer until it finally arrives and

His hands begin... to slow down...

Until... they stop... com...plete...ly.

Fading Away

Author's Note: This is a more personal piece about my grandmother, who we visited this past Mother's Day. It was hard to hear her not remember who we were, and this poem is just about how sad it is to see someone you love fade away before your eyes.

Little still lingers within your eyes --

Still the same color,

But not recognizing

Me;

Or your son.

I place the flowers on your bedside table --

Next to your pills,

Half empty, half full.

How are you doing?

But how silly of me,

For of course,

You'll only stare.

I want to do something,

Say something,

That will make you look up and see,

See with the eyes that I remember

The eyes that saw me through

Missions, and

Adventures,

I want you.

Not this shell of who you used to be.

You have faded,

Faded away with the color on the sheets.

Almost too light to see

Anymore.

I touch your hand

It is fragile and bony

I stare at your face,

It too,

Disappearing

Before my eyes.

Suddenly, a movement,

The nurse swings to your side:

Who are these people?

Make them leave.

Then we are gone,

Leaving you lost.

Alone.

Fading away with the color on the sheets.