Slow Time

We’re marching in slow time
In nowhere to go time
And it’s melting the clock
To a languid tick tock
The rhythm feels wrong
As time slithers and stretches
Every moment it etches
Takes ever so long

We’re dreaming in no time
In no chance to flow time
And it’s come to a stop
With a listless drip drop
The wisp of a song
Keeps time sliding and shuffling
Every heartbeat it’s muffling
Still sounds like a gong

We’re waking to show time
To ready to crow time
And it’s picking up pace
For a thrills and spills race
The final furlong
Brings time speeding and stomping
Every step takes us romping
Back where we belong.

Wayne Visser © 2021

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

Share