Do you ever think about time
And realize that nothing makes sense
I mean, really, really, REALLY think about time
And tell me you don’t come up a little bit confused
Like we always see the second World War and the Civil Rights movement
As two totally separate parts of history
Yet Anne Frank and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. were born only 5 months apart.
We categorize time into events
But what really is time?
Genuinely, what does time boil down to?
In its very essence, what are the purest components of time?
Because on Mondays, time seems to drag on and out
But through the rest of the week, time seems to fly by
And how does this strange, uneven movement of time add up?
Seconds, minutes, hours?
Because timekeeping is all subjective
We can put a numerical value to the movement of time
But is that accurate?
Yes time is moving forever onward but is a second actually a second?
We are taught to answer yes from a young age
Because some old braniacs one day
Sat up in their chair
And declared based on the planetary movements that
Yes, a second is a second
A second is a second made up of milliseconds that are milliseconds
And milliseconds are milliseconds that are made up of whatever milliseconds are made up of
But time is infinitely moving too quickly for most devices to accurately mention
Yet in that infinite speed it is also slow moving
Based on a matter of subjectivity
Like I could’ve sworn this poem took two minutes to write
But based on my clock I’ve been deliberating for fifteen
So sure,
I’m certain I could Google what time is in a scientific sense,
But for the sake of argument I would respond
That time is an illusion to a poet,
rather than a scientist.