Copyright Notice

Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Friday, December 30, 2011

#364 Time Keeper Tragedy

I saw him

Father time

He was riding
The Waterford crystal ball
Above Times Square
He was not afraid to fall

This was his last hurrah
His last seconds of glory
He wanted to go out with a bang
Something traumatic and gory

Jumping up and down
Like a wizened maniac
Screaming at the top of his lungs
Trying desperately to make it crack

Then it happened

The ball broke free
Bursting from the pole
Father time laughing with glee
Urging the ball onward
Hoping to crater a deeper hole

Accelerating downwards
At a whole lot more
Than 32.2 feet per second
That ball grew a comet's tail
Breaking windows
Cracking concrete
Not to mention the sound barrier

Hair streaming back
Oblivious to the heat
Immortal and indestructible
At least for a few more seconds
Father Time rode the crystal ball

But a sudden gust of wind
And a twist of fate
Brought Baby New Year
Into harm's way

Jerking his face up
At the last possible second
Baby New Year locked eyes
With Father Time
Both of them horrified
Waving their arms
Vainly pushing danger away
Until they were both lost in the flash

The impact cratered West 46th
Making it impassable for weeks
Worse still was the way things felt
Time wasn't moving properly
From the floor of Death Valley
To Everest's snowy peaks

Nothing would happen
For days at a time
Flowers wouldn't grow
Men wouldn't have to shave
Natural processes halted
Some were saved from the grave

But then time would stutter step
The man next to you
Would sprout a ZZ Top beard
In the span of a few seconds

Plants grew tall
Flowered to seed
Withered and died
At a blinding speed

People on the brink of death
All dropped dead
In the space of a breath
Causing mayhem and sadness

Too much
After too little
Humanity was succumbing to madness

We all knew what it was
It was Father Time's last act
Of high flying insanity

If only he hadn't
Things would be normal
Baby New Year would be adolescent
Regulating the gears of time
Just as he was meant

So as a group
We hold our breath
Trying to tough it out
Holding in the fear
Not willing to let it out
Some almost holding their breath
For the rest of the year

Sure
Some show cracks
It's inevitable
But who's to know
How many of us will make it
If the next Baby New Year
Is a No-Show

No comments:

Post a Comment