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pseudometry — Drown Mondays
by-nc-nd
Published: 2011-09-19 21:51:37 +0000 UTC; Views: 1299; Favourites: 30; Downloads: 6
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Description
The best way I foundto catch my seven-twenty train
is to miss the seven-o-five, be late
and grow a glut of yin
from the corpses of yangs
drown mondays to breathe tuesdays
but I nibbled cake and kept it too;
I caught the seven-o-five
and the hands fell off the clock,
fell off my wristwatch
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Comments: 33
Hi there! Just a note to let you know that I've featured this piece in my journal
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Thanks very much! I'm much honoured
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The language you use here is just simply incredible
I'm just
amazed
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Featured here , 
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Ah thanks so much
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Love your wording choices. So sublime.
My favorite bits:
and grow a glut of yin
from the corpses of yangs
and
drown mondays to breathe tuesdays
Gosh, these are just excellent.
The last stanza took me a couple reads to really get, but I understand it.
Although, it just doesn't seem to flow quite as well for me as the first stanza.
Still, this is really wonderful. :]
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Thanks very much, I quite liked the yin/yang lines too
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I love this abstract tidbit, especially the "drown mondays to breathe tuesdays" and the many, many possible interpretations this could have.
I was reminded of a clock that had an annoyingly loud ticking sound--my dad came home in a particularly foul mood and threw the clock across the room, and the clock hands stuck out at weird angles and the glass shattered, but the clock kept ticking...
And well, yes, we sacrifice the present in hopes of enjoying the future, and never realize that it's perpetually the present; that we're slaves to the concept of time; that we always will be haplessly discontent.
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Thank you very much for your considered response. It's funny isn't it, the weight of meaning clocks (and their fates, sometimes!) can carry.
Indeed. And I wonder too sometimes if there's anything good that can be got without some sort of sacrifice. It's both an unsettling and sometimes oddly comforting though; maybe because we want to believe that unpleasant experiences, sacrifices, will surely pay off somewhere somehow.
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I always thought that commuting had hidden excitements.
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This is wonderful. I love the unusual wording throughout the poem. I found the very last line confusing though. Did the hands fall of the clock and off your wristwatch too? I realize it is not literal but I found the wording odd. Loved everything else about this poem!
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Why thank you. Yep, I meant the hands falling off both, with the clock representing time in the abstract, general, and wristwatch the specific, personal.
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Nice! Took a couple of reads, but... now that you caught the earlier train, there's more time so you don't have to worry about it, yes? Room... "to breathe".
It's like a riddle that unravels beautifully.
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Thanks very much! That's a lovely description, the poem as a riddle.
The thing is though, the early train is weird. Both it's layout and atmosphere. It's like slipping into another dimension, something that isn't meant to be... though it's definitely handy to be early
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Maybe this new dimension/perspective WAS meant to be in order for you to write this great poem!
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Haha. If only I could slip into such a dimension more often, then!
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Hehe please do! 
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I like a poem that has this kind of versatile dessert.
But really, I just like this poem on general principles.
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Haha. If only such desserts could exist outside of poetry, also!
Many thanks
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I love this, both the surreal ending and the truism at the beginning about how to catch a train on time.
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Why thank you; pleased both those elements came across, were less obtuse than I feared!
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