with all due respect to where it belongs, a tongue in cheek poem dedicated to the pedagogy of time.
I just wanted a lead,
A straight shot to her heart,
Wanted just a few minutes
Of her time,
But she had none;
She gave me a book,
A small one to read,
Only one equation, she said,
Told me once I understood well,
Come back and need to tell,
The story of the book,
A Brief History of Time.
Never in my life I thought
I would hate someone,
Who was dead and gone,
Oh Hawking,
Was that your way of
Having fun,
To tinker with time?
Days have turned into nights,
From the time
I was given the book,
Time stood still for me,
Taunting me day and night.
I read and read,
And then read again,
And tried to understand;
Who defined brief,
Nothing brief about time,
Except the few moments
That I asked from her, and the
Much shorter time
I was dismissed,
Time just flies.
Now I even dread to understand,
And go back to her,
As time ticks and taunts,
I fear if she hands me
A long history of time to read,
Life will pass by,
Time will fly,
And before I have my
Brief moment,
My time with her,
It will be time for me to go,
And meet Hawking
With his book in hand,
Ready to drill into my head,
The concept of time,
Either brief or long.
How can eternity be brief?
I am no Einstein,
But Hawking is wrong,
There is nothing brief,
About time;
Don’t get fooled by those
Big words,
(or are they the big bangs),
Lest you end up in
A black hole;
Ah, I feel enlightened,
And I feel brave,
As I get ready to meet
My love,
and proclaim,
When I am ready to
Be with you
From here to eternity,
And beyond,
There is no meaning to
The brief history of time,
Let the dead rest in peace,
Till eternity beckons.
