Poetic License: August 2001 Online Poetry Journal

Untitled
by Zeke

"Childhood"
by Sarah Bonifacio

"That Beat, I Hear It"
by Megan Diamondstein

Untitled
by A.M. Smith

Relic (Memento)
by Ramon Contrera

Untouchable Face
by Daniel Sanders

Untitled
by Farrah Fidler

Creeping Light
by VB

unfamiliar ceiling
by Taneka Stotts

A Lost Love
by P. Withers

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Untitled
by A.M. Smith

I watch the hands on the clock move steadily forward
and I want them to stop.
With every second I feel my heart beat again
And with every beat of my heart I feel the pain of the separating seconds
I close my eyes
and still I hear the tick
   of the clock
I cover my ears
and still I feel the beat of my heart
I block out the beating of my heart,

and I have stopped time

But I stopped time in the pain of the separating seconds,
and my heart is no longer mine
It lays trapped in the clock,
A clock forever moving forward,
encasing my beating heart,
enduring the pain of the separating seconds
And still, I am forever moving forward
blind
and deaf
and apathetic
And I know now I cannot stop time
And I wish for my heart back,
but I can no longer see it,
no longer hear it,
no longer feel it,
   beating,
steadily onwards
in rhythm with the hands
that I forced myself to become dombe to.
I want to go back
but what is done cannot be repealed,
for the hands move steadily forward in definite always,
and to a clock,
the past does not
   exist.