Summary

The poem "By Proxy" reflects on the struggle to find meaning in the relentless passage of time, despite the accumulation of wisdom.

Abstract

"By Proxy" is a contemplative poem that delves into the human experience of time's relentless march. The speaker reflects on the futility of counting moments, likening the accumulation of wisdom to the slow fall of sand in an hourglass. Despite the desire to resist, the speaker acknowledges the inevitability of time's lessons, expressed through a metaphorical rage against the heavens and the ticking of a clock. The poem conveys a sense of surrender to the passage of time, yet it also suggests finding solace in the present moment and the power of words to capture the essence of our experiences.

Opinions

The speaker expresses a sense of frustration and helplessness in the face of time's inexorable progress.
There is a recognition that wisdom's growth is a slow and often unnoticed process, akin to the accumulation of sand in an hourglass.
The poem conveys a resistance to the lessons that time imparts, as if they are cruel or unfair.
The speaker reveals a temptation to succumb to lethargy and despair when confronted with life's regularity and the inevitability of death.
Despite the struggle, there is an underlying current of hope, suggesting that by embracing the present and the power of language, one can transcend the feeling of living "by proxy."

POETRY | HOPE

By Proxy

Seven hours sitting and counting minutes

As a child might count out baseball cards

Knowing each day I live, each moment I endure

I am no more secure in what I know to be true

I know it’s been said, often by writers or poets long dead

that wisdom builds upon itself like bricks

Like sands in an hourglass, slowly dropping down

But even on a day like this as seven hours pass

It’s a lesson I don’t want to learn.

I can shake my fists at heaven in a rage

Why so little time to burn?

Why so fickle a lesson taught?

Why must I obey this ticking cage?

How easy it is to curse the clock,

As though mocking me in regularity

How easy to give in to lethargy

As the lights give up the stage,

I am left only with words.

Such a poor defence before a judge long deaf

And each breath leaves us only closer to the end

Breathe, I tell myself, breathe deeply and with feeling

Fill those lungs with the wind of dreams

Hold each moment of these impenetrable seven hours,

As though I pulled the hands of a clock free

And no longer live by proxy