Blog seven: A poem – Acts of time

A new poem –

Acts of time

I haven’t tried to reinvent any wheels.

But as the hands on the face

of the clock of life turn slowly,

I find myself adopting different guises.

Periodically creating a new version of me,

of myself.

Quickly changing like a chameleon on

speed, under flashing disco lights.


As the big hand on my watch speeds up

pointing to the advance of years,

my character changes every so often,

indicating that life

is there for taking.


And as the small hand on my travel clock

hustles, trying to pass me by,

I turn back time

by winding back my thoughts, seeing the echoes of

my many shredded skins –

child, schoolboy, teen, childish, adolescent, man,

lover, boyfriend, husband, father, son,

trouble, breaker, villain, drunk, sober, waster, wasted, stupid, unkind, selfish, critic,

criticised, parasite, taker, user, lazy, worker, maker, inspiration, hero, caring, provider,

kind, educated,

foe, friend,

punk, singer, hippy, raver, DJ, writer, poet,

crazy, alone, unamused, sad, sadder, happy, happier, amusing, together, at peace,

strange, normal,

younger, young, older, middle aged,



And right on cue

I am at ease

with the belief that

I don’t need to cling to the past,

past glories, past versions. No need to hang

on to past times, trying to not let go – like a desperate

Band-Aid fighting to stay on a child’s knee as she



I am in a time of peace with the timely and simple realisation

that whatever stage my life is on, it is fine

to act on impulse, to learn a new set of lines.

To use my big hands and my small hands to

take the costume of whatever personality fits the bill.

To be a star.

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