Silly Little Me

2-5min

This is a short one. A poem about the rhythms of life and how they can be constrained by the clocks relentless tick and tock.

Time spins an abstract and rigid web.
Exact periods and infinitely repeating bells,
where a body squeezes and restlessly dwells.
So Time says - with confidence and authority:

"and this was then and later will be when.”

Meanwhile, silly little me,
is chasing a digit
1,2 and 3
only to find myself between it!

But Time says it clear:

”No time for wonder here.
You cannot be in between -
your exact time is 2:15 and 43 seconds
on June 19 of the year two thousand and the twenty second.”

”Its time”. Time says.

But I cannot help and listen to the speeding of my heart
or the dancing of my feet.
I cannot help but watch the colors of the day and listen
to the melodies of the night.

No wonder you say?

While you tick and tock,
chasing only yourself - I stop!
I let the rhythms expand while being content
with all the time I can hold and feel in my hand.

- CS

I took a picture of my field of view for about two weeks every day at 2:15:43 and collaged them into one large illustration. The clock shouted the same tick and tock but the rhythms and colors of life changed.