The Porch Swing: WORD of the day

WORD of the day XIII.

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

Time n. 1) a: The measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues. b: a nonspatial continuum that is measured in terms of events which succeed one another from past through present to future. 2) the point or period when something occurs 3) a: An appointed, fixed, or customary moment or hour for something to happen, begin, or end. b: an opportune or suitable moment—often used in the phrase about time. 4) a: a historical period. b: a division of geologic chronology. c: conditions at present or at some specified period —usually used in plural. d: The present time. 5) a: Lifetime. b: A period of apprenticeship: a term of military serviced : a prison sentence. 6) Season. 7) a: Rate of speed: Tempo. b: The grouping of the beats of music: Rhythm.  8) a: A moment, hour, day, or year as indicated by a clock or calendar. b: Any of various systems (as sidereal or solar) of reckoning time. 9) a: One of a series of recurring instances or repeated actions: added or accumulated quantities or instances: equal fractional parts of which an indicated number equal a comparatively greater quantity.10) Finite as contrasted with infinite duration. 11) A person’s experience during a specified period or on a particular occasion.

WORD of the day: Time


Time why do I feel like I never have enough of you?

Do you love me or do you resent me?

Face twisting and turning in mockery of my dependence,

My chained link to your ebbed flow.

The wise say knock, and knock I hath,

Woe is you time! Woe is you!!


Time turning, a winced face

 winding, winding, winding


How you move so fast at times and other times so slow,

yet the same duration past; I’ll never quite understand.


Watches, bells, Grandfathers, straps, chains, cogs, batteries, faces, accessories, etc.

Tools designed to satisfy our fetish with time.


A vertigo of characters and chambers constantly in motion;

Seconds churning, turning hours into years, trading years in for memories.


Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu. Cuu-Cuu…




 A time far removed; a lover never to be held again, an expired love affair.


Here just a second ago, right here in hand

Always a trickster; the slyest of foxes, shifting, sifting, sliding out of any situation.


Now thinking about it, has it ever really been seen?

A ghostly matter, haunting the brain, plaguing the folds of our minds.


Still never to be caught nor held,

Not for one damned second.


Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu.



Just as aloof, the future maintains its own allure.

A tendency to tease, to feed on the hopes of day dreams


The unfolding of time, revealing of events and encounters unpredictable.

An elusive archer, aimed right in your direction…


Never promised and hardly ever kept to words.

Just outside the jurisdiction of the tangible.


Oh but the taste, the feeling, I can almost swear I’ve had it before.

Delusion; A fantasy so sweet nonetheless.


Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu. Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu.



Ah yes, the present.

A familiar face, a friend to us all.


Like one of those friends that come over and kicks their feet up on your kitchen table an shit.

Keep your eye on this one though.


One second it’s right in front of you, one blink and it’s gone or has a whole new look.

Simple as that.


The wedge between the future yet to come and the past gone too fast.


Its like that road runner moving along to fast to ever catch,

Constantly dropping anvils and TNT sticks on all our diabolic plans to catch it, to CAGE it, to hold onto it and slow roast it.


Never quite works like that, it only stops long enough to poke out a taunting tongue, then ZOOM.

And we’re left there just looking WILE-E





And where do we fit into this?

Into all the complicated webs of chronology, these contraptions and interactions?


Thus far each one of us to determine that, to recognize for ourselves.

As for me, well…


 I’m that character that peeks out ever so often, just checking in on things

Never late, still never quite on time, unpredictable. Yes, that fellow, that’s me.



Not a necessity to the maze, however a great addition…

I’m that little character that pops out just to show you simply how crazy time is…


No name, I just am that I am.

That little fellow, yes that’s me.


Cuu-Cuu. Cuu-Cuu.



Maybe I’m crazy, you think?

Humph, only time will tell…




Reflection and Response.

Samuel Bostick


the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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