Still Life (edit)

[brynmawr1]

Time is 
 
a river that no dam can impede;
an ocean without shore or horizon;  really like this observation
the test against which we measure our worth,    I have a bit of a problem with "worth"; I think a more concrete word would be better; our "passage" for example.
or, simply, the between of now and not.  great closing line
 
our friend.               Our friend:  ?
 
The measure of our life’s tread;
telling us when our parenting begins,
when our eggs are done;    not fond of this transition from something tremendous like parenting to something trivial like cooking eggs (I assume that's the meaning, although it could of course have the double meaning of eggs hatching)                 Going for the range of time's utility.  The double meaning was accidental but intriguing. so I left it.
is said, to have no say on those who love.      for ?
It is the panacea.
 
the enemy.               Our enemy:   ?
 
That holds the future hostage,
denying the past.
Punishes those who grieve,
reminds us how long our love is gone,    maybe cut "our" ?  should it be "has been" not is
plucks the flower before its due.  excellent stanza
 
This house we live in becomes our ruin.
Caught in the riptide,
pulled from shore to horizon,
all clocks will stop.
Is there no remedy?  my favorite stanza
 
We catch a glimpse of time’s heel
measured in the swing of the pendulum.
The lick quick repose at each stroke,        "lick quick" gives me pause, I kind of like it, but maybe "brief" would do better  couldn't pass up the illiteration
before it wakes to begin again.
 
Kelvin knew the clue.                  something of a change of horses here, though I like these last stanzas   Yes, trying to lead the reader.  Kill your darlings!
Temperature is the measure,
ironically, of molecular shiver
that ceases at the absolute of zero.
 
Without motion, 
there is only now and no not.
As at the pendulum’s repose,       since you've used repose already, maybe another word, like "pause".....
or me, napping on the couch.     I find this last line weak, although something about timeless sleep would be appropiate

Hi Bryn,

A complex and beautiful poem.  My likes/dislikes and suggested edits above.

TqB

Thanks TqB.
Made changes.  Appreciate the insight and encouragement.
steve

---

Time is 
 
a river that no dam can impede;
an ocean without shore or horizon;     Which is it then? Pick one or the other, I prefer the ocean one. A river is a cliche metaphor for how time flows forward, whereas, the ocean spans outward unceasingly. We don't know where it starts or ends.    I agree.  unfortunate product of last minute edits that went over looked.
the test against which we measure our worth,
or, simply, the between of now and not.
 
our friend.
 
The measure of our life’s tread;
telling us when our parenting begins,
when our eggs are done;
is said, to have no say on those who love.   "the panacea of those who love." 
It is the panacea.
 
the enemy.
 
That holds the future hostage,
denying the past.
Punishes those who grieve,
reminds us how long our love is gone,
plucks the flower before its due.   Again, this is a cliche metaphor for describing people who die before their time. 
 
This house we live in becomes our ruin.  "is our ruin" would work better, it shows the powerlessness one has over time because of a determined fate which contrasts with the previous statement that time spans outward without end like an ocean.
Caught in the riptide,
pulled from shore to horizon,
all clocks will stop.  Cliche
Is there no remedy? This stanza reads better without this ending question. 
 
We catch a glimpse of time’s heel
measured in the swing of the pendulum.
The lick quick repose at each stroke,
before it wakes to begin again.  
 
Kelvin knew the clue.
Temperature is the measure,
ironically, of molecular shiver 
that ceases at the absolute of zero.  
 
Without motion, 
there is only now and no not.
As at the pendulum’s repose,
or me, napping on the couch.

The second to last stanza isn't necessary because it is summed up in the last one to be "motion."   Yes, I just liked it.  Trying to lead the reader too much.
Time is motion, we don't need to be taught about it.

Also is everything under "the enemy" supposed to show that time is the enemy, because it eventually becomes a lesson on how time is motion rather than showing its ill effects.  Really trying to defeat time, with some humor at the end. not sure it was effective!

Cheers for the read,
Sc

Hi Sc,
Thanks so much for your comments.  Made changes.
Bryn

---

Time is 
 
a river that no dam can impede;
an ocean without shore or horizon;
the test against which we measure our worth,
or, simply, the between of now and not.
 
our friend.
 
The measure of our life’s tread;
telling us when our parenting begins,
when our eggs are done;
is said, to have no say on those who love.
It is the panacea.
 
the enemy.
 
That holds the future hostage,
denying the past.
Punishes those who grieve,
reminds us how long our love is gone,
plucks the flower before its due.
 
This house we live in becomes our ruin.
Caught in the riptide,
pulled from shore to horizon,
all clocks will stop.
Is there no remedy?
 
We catch a glimpse of time’s heel
measured in the swing of the pendulum.  perhaps less "the" - "measured in swing of pendulum" or the like
The lick quick repose at each stroke,  again, less "the" - "lick-quick repose amid each stroke" or similar
before it wakes to begin again.
 
Kelvin knew the clue.
Temperature is the measure,
ironically, of molecular shiver
that ceases at the absolute of zero.
 
Without motion, 
there is only now and no not.  perhaps "there is only now, no not."
As at the pendulum’s repose,
or me, napping on the couch.  perhaps 'mine' in place of 'me'

My first critique here is punctuation... in the wider sense of typographic organization as well as punctuation marks.  As I read it, the poem consists of three stanzas consisting of a leading line and an elaboration of it - including the title - followed by four stand-alone stanzas.  If those three leading stanzas were set off with indents as well as white space, in a sort of outline format, they might look like this:

Time is 

  a river that no dam can impede;
  an ocean without shore or horizon;
  the test against which we measure our worth,
  or, simply, the between of now and not.
 
  our friend 
    the measure of our life’s tread; 
    telling us when our parenting begins,
      when our eggs are done;
    is said, to have no say on those who love.

  the panacea.
 
  the enemy that 
    holds the future hostage,  denying the past.
    punishes those who grieve,
    reminds us how long our love is gone,
    plucks the flower before its due.
 
I don't insist on the above, but you might consider some variant.  In the remaining stanzas I've made a few suggestions up above.  The title is tricky:  it's really the first line; there should, perhaps be a separate title like "About Time" but, of course, much better than that!

On the whole, it's a good discussion-poem; I'd like it to flow a bit more fluidly (like its subject) but some turbulence is in order given the way we perceive it.

Hi Duke,
Thanks for your suggestions.  I have struggled with formatting on this site but have made my attempt, as well as your other suggestions.
Thanks,
bryn