Whose Time?
Ere the Timekeeper tells us that our time is up
Take care to take more than you need out of the cup
Drink thy fill and nothing less should you swallow
Beggar the pleas of those that as would follow
It was always thus since the first day He’s supposed to have created
6 days of Almighty industry but on the 7th day he waited
For followers to have marvelled, believers to have witnessed
This bizarre interpretation of survival of the fittest
Where the privileged squander all that their ancestors built
And deny it their descendants without a moment’s guilt
- Category: Poetry
2 comments add one below
-
Neville Hunt 8 months ago
A terrific poem, Lewis! Really thoughtful and thought provoking. Beats my recent time piece into a cocked hat! At first I was recalling ‘last orders’ at our local pub... and that actually worked too(!)... and then it took me deeper from landlords, to timelords and to the Almighty. Then I wondered if the 7th day might equate to drinking up time, when my chums and I would invariably try to sink two pints, not one... and push it to the time limit... the point at which our landlord would be getting heavy with us “ain’t you all got homes to go to?” I really enjoyed this poem! Thanks.
-
Sir Robin Kingfisher 8 months ago
Thanks, Neville. The first line came to me and sounded like something said by some Northern British god-fearing folk from centuries ago and then it evolved to have something to do with American Evangelical Climate Change Deniers. At least in my mind, anyway.
