The painting "The Persistence of Memory is Salvador Dali's most famous painting. It shows multiple clocks melting in the sun and ants aiding in their decomposition. Although it's unsure, many people believed that Dali was inspired by Albert Einstein's theory of special relativity.
First semester, I was taking a university calculus-based physics class. I had briefly thought of Dali's paintings, and his life in general (He was very strange; he had many fears and odd mannerisms, and he loved a good show). It just happened that a kid I liked was in that physics lecture as well. He found out I liked him (my own fault) and over the course of a a few months, we had a pseudo-flirtationship through a handful of awkward moments and texting. He had a girlfriend though, and our conversations were always difficult to keep in balance. Eventually I we had to stop talking. I try not to go through life burning bridges, but this was one experience where I learned a lot but had to move on.
So I now present to you the product of mixing college physics, art, and bad relationships...
Dali’s Clocks
The hands of the clock push our time, push me out of town.
The ticks of the clock whisper the seconds already evaporated.
The numbers of the clock measuring the tension of this room, past a scale of 10.
The gears of the clock mocking our throbbing hearts.
It’s time that we’re fighting.
Einstein said “It’s all relative,” but relative to you, there will never be a right time.
You told me that normal was boring.
I knew a man who was anything but normal.
In a foreign land, I walked through his brain, touched his vile, constructed fantasies.
Like me, he thought his dreams were memories,
And with heat and ants, he sacrificed them for art, and they persisted.
He murdered time in the desert.
And although we may not be in a dream or a deadland,
As sure as he killed time, (Einstein beside),
Maybe we could melt the clock.
First semester, I was taking a university calculus-based physics class. I had briefly thought of Dali's paintings, and his life in general (He was very strange; he had many fears and odd mannerisms, and he loved a good show). It just happened that a kid I liked was in that physics lecture as well. He found out I liked him (my own fault) and over the course of a a few months, we had a pseudo-flirtationship through a handful of awkward moments and texting. He had a girlfriend though, and our conversations were always difficult to keep in balance. Eventually I we had to stop talking. I try not to go through life burning bridges, but this was one experience where I learned a lot but had to move on.
So I now present to you the product of mixing college physics, art, and bad relationships...
Dali’s Clocks
The hands of the clock push our time, push me out of town.
The ticks of the clock whisper the seconds already evaporated.
The numbers of the clock measuring the tension of this room, past a scale of 10.
The gears of the clock mocking our throbbing hearts.
It’s time that we’re fighting.
Einstein said “It’s all relative,” but relative to you, there will never be a right time.
You told me that normal was boring.
I knew a man who was anything but normal.
In a foreign land, I walked through his brain, touched his vile, constructed fantasies.
Like me, he thought his dreams were memories,
And with heat and ants, he sacrificed them for art, and they persisted.
He murdered time in the desert.
And although we may not be in a dream or a deadland,
As sure as he killed time, (Einstein beside),
Maybe we could melt the clock.