Twelve

One, rang out.
The soleful tone.
The touch of something imminent.

A ring of power and of steel.
Emotion with the mind to feel
me standing in this open cage.

Alone encased in wood and gears.
A room. En-tombed. En-trapped. A-mazed...
and like a passing moment praised
the heavy hammer poised then raised,
then dealt another blow.

Two.
The shock.
A second glance.
The stare of hate or love reflect.

A quicker ticker tape parade
for ticking seconds seranade.

Now I see the journey start,
a clarity of mind and heart.
A track to tread.
A tread to track,
of dread.

Then in the blink of minds and lives
of men the hammer raised again
and like a golem or a corpse
without remorse on time it fell
to kiss the bell.

Three
was stuck, and two lay dead.
The solitary sound of doom.
A step upon the spiral stair that
spiralled down into the tomb.

A twinkle and this time is gone,
this shine is shone,
this chime is none.

A note like fire, enlightenment.
The fly wheel runs,
it comes it comes,
and as the hammer blow pulls back
a tiny shaft, a sword in mist
of golden light begins to glist-a
cross to see the hammer fister.

Four.
A station waiting there.
Solid as a rock of quartz
among an ochre coal field.
A base of pace.
A base pair pair.

It's all too pure,
too rest, too late.

It all stays calm,
at peace,
at wait.
At wait...

Five, a thunder, like a storm
a torrid swirl of hail and rain.
Another blow.
Another clap.

KABOOM! Collapse!

A shout of God about,
Aeolus perhaps.

As root and pane
fights wind and rain,
as shutters flutter,
as males-strum (like in rock),
as hails fly and flock,
as darkness blinks in glares of light,
the iron hammer flys tonight!
And down it slams with all it's might.

Six.
A stare.
Halfway there.

No way.
No fear.
No fear here.
Please, no fear today.

A silence holds and grips.
A heartbeat and the drips.

An echo formed without a sound...
outside a hound...
inbound.

Go!
Hammer go!
This second is a minute slow.
This second is my greatest foe.
I beg you hammer raise and blow.
I beg you hammer raise and...

BLOW.
A strike.
The seventh part.
Eternity can run out fast.

For like a steed, the ticks gain speed.
A dawn. A dusk. A dawn. A night.
A star of light, a line, a splinter.
A cog or coil in autumn winter.
A spring spring.

Faster, bester,
like a jester.

Music growing,
like a jig,
dancing like a whirlygig.
The walls a-waltz... but now it's slowing
like an uphill river flowing
like the wind the hammer's blowing...

Eight. A visit.
Monks? Who is it?
Late? Not fate or fire or friar.

Farmer?

Silent.

Not a charmer. Wait, the hand
of bone not flesh.
I understand.

Death no more no less.

How about a game of chess?

No?

Still muted.
Fingers? Four raised.
Four computed.

No!

Four bells!
As in jazz, only four time will tell.

Tick, the hammer.
Tick tick
tick
t-i-c-k.

Nine.

Alone, in busy time.
It seems my case has now been filed.
Appeal. A rest. Yes, wait!
A weight is lifted from my chest.
The legal option was the best.

Historic day!
for light and right
has run away with victory.
I won the fight!
Me!

An angel choir, a fanfare please.
A photo. Cheese.

I'd like to thank,
my agent, and the back room boys,
my mother for my brothers toys,
my nominees.

My name?
You spell it with two e's

That sound?
A creak?
An insect talking?
The crackle of a flambeau burning?
Oh no! Dear God the clock is turning...

Ten.
The end begins.

There it is.
The hammer.
Look.

Still.

Still time to pray,
to go away.
To watch and learn to live
to love, to cry and smile.

Still time to change the world,
to make your mark.
One day is time. One bell. One single bell.

Time to lead, and breed (not bread).
Time to proceed, process.

Then, like the wing of a butterfly,
more gentle than a whispers breath,
smooth as death,
as ghost ducks feathers,
the hammer moved and creaked a shout.

Time is out.

Crack, eleven.

A tick. A tack. A pulse. An impulse.
A second life.
Grasp the past.

Stop!

Tides stop.
Stars stop.
Hearts stop.
All motion, cease
and give me peace.

Beat.

A gain.
A pain.
The pain!
Extended like a chewing gum.
An agony too drawn and set.
Longer than a cigarette.
And worse.
Longer than I hoped or planned.
Longer still than I can stand.

No!

Time: Go!

And
with a
heaving swell,
cresendo like a tidal wave,
the mighty hammer raised
to God,
to heaven and the stars
and Sun emblazoned,
to life and Earth and
all things meek made in that week.
Then
slowly
like an axe
to hell
to the bell
In covenant infernal arc
it fell.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.