At 11:59, the World stopped


Everything marooned in its place

Nothing moving ahead


The silence of a disconnected phone lingers in an endless echo

Cigarette smoke clings to the wall in a grotesque fresco

Cubes of ice, arrested mid-clink, in Whiskey’s amber

The soft refrain of a maudlin song; now trapped forever


A lonely slice of still-warm pizza appears painted in place

The clock’s hand pauses in its relentless parade

The nagging hum of the refrigerator has lost its usual pace

A ceiling fan, in mid-revolution, stays its blades


A beam of light, from the moon outside, stands rooted

A spider’s web, in partial-weave, is convoluted

An open book waits, with twisted plot unraveled halfway

An angry man on the TV screen is caught between frames


Outside, a dog’s needy bark is in constant rewind-and-play

The bullying honk of a car refuses to fade

A traffic-light is stuck in red,

Moths death- dancing around a streetlamp; hover mid-sway


But then suddenly…


The traffic-light turns green; the street comes back to life

The music finds its beat,

The clock’s hands meet

And the World is back on its feet


It’s 12:00, and the World hasn’t stopped

Why does it go on?



At 11:59, you and I stopped being us,

At 11:59, My World stopped

I became stone; and our dreams, dust



2 thoughts on “11:59

  1. Really well written.Every little detail is captured so well.

    Someday the dust will settle down. Stones will move with the rain and the wind. New dreams will follow, and they will be full of flowers, ready to bloom.

  2. I’ve been there where the world stops and spins at the same time, where there’s no direction and so much space, and all these things you thought you had figured out, but nothing you really knew about.

    That last stanza speaks all of this so clearly.

    Love, Miffalicious. [www.miffalicious.com]

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