I loathe the expression "What makes him tick." It is the American mind, looking for simple and singular solution, that uses the foolish expression. A person not only ticks, he also chimes and strikes the hour, falls and breaks and has to be put together again, and sometimes stops like an electric clock in a thunderstorm.
~James Thurber
oh, yes.
sometimes i tick.
somtimes i stop.
somtimes i gong.
somtimes i play a little melody.
sometimes i even cuck-coo.
you know.
when all around is too serious
or too quiet
or ever so very silly,
sometimes the only proper response is to pop out like a little yellow bird and
cuck-coo, cuck-coo.
and all along, i must still find the rhythm and tick.
it doesn't work to deviate from the regular tick for too long, does it.
i am finding ways and times around the constant ticking, though.
more time to chime.
more time to stop.
i tick when i have to,
but oh, i love to be more complex than that.
the falling and breaking i could do without . . .
but, to be put together again by one or ones who love me,
that is a gift, too,
to be set to rights so my ticker can tick
and my chime can sound
and even the silly little cuck-coo in me
can remember how to pop out its cheerful little head.
tick
tock
chime
tick
tock
cuck-coo
tick
tock
tick
tock
rest