We thrust our fingers into our ears to stop its moan; but it was no good; the cry cut like a drill into our heads, dragging minutes into hours, hours into years. We withered and grew old between those cries.
quote by Ernst Toller

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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~time~
As the hours drag on
the doctors rush to save her life
as the hours drag on
the day ends with no hope left
as the hours drag on
a nurse in forms a young girls family full of distress
as the minutes pass by
a young girl slowly dies
as the minutes pass by
a dieing girl whispers her last good byes
as the seconds tick past
she breaths her last breath
as seconds tick past
a family is struck with the truth that life does not last forever
months past in a blur
years will only dull the pain for the family
eternity till they will meet again
poem by Kairy sauerwein

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In my day, at 12 years old, which was 38 years ago, we worked out in summer months for two and a half hours. Today someone in that age group might work out for four hours, two hours in the morning and two at night.
quote by Mark Spitz

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One thing that is almost always said to me is, I grew up with you. They are meeting me and feel that they actually grew up with me. I was with them during their play hours and thinking hours. I was a part of their childhoods. That's one of the most amazing things.
quote by Mark Goddard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Staight Back
Written by stevie nicks.
What can I say this time
Which card shall I play
The dream is not over,
The dream is just away
And you will fly like some little wing straight back to the sun
The dream was never over
The dream has just begun
The dream has just begun
Fingers find the ivory keys
And a song begins to begin l
Like a wolf on the run
And you will find while in the wind something that you lost
The dream was never over, no
The dream was only lost
(hours and hours of waiting for you,
So strong and so fleeting)
The dream has just begun
(and hours of waiting for you...
In hopes of meeting)
The dream has just begun
(this way)
Well, the dream has just begun
She remembers how good it can be
He remembers a melody
Ah, in the shadow of my shadow in a gleam
He remembers how good it can be
She remembers a melody
Well, in the shadow of my shadow in a gleam
(hours and hours of waiting for you
So strong and so fleeting)
The dream has just begun
(hours and hours of waiting this way...
Meeting, me)
Hours of waiting for you
(so strong and so fleeting)
The dream has just begun...
(meeting this way)
Straight back now
(hours and hours of waiting
So strong and so fleeting)
Hours and hours waiting this way
Hours and hours of waiting this way
Straight back
Straight back
Straight back... yeah!
He remembers a melody
He remembers how good it can be
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straight Back
Words and Music by Stevie Nicks
what can i say this time
which card shall i play
the dream is not over
the dream is just away
and you will fly like some little wing
straight back to the sun
the dream was never over
the dream has just begun
the dream has just begun.........dream....
my fingers find the ivory keys
ans a song begins to begin
like a wolf...on the run
and you will find
while in the wind
something that you lost
the dream was never over...no...
the dream was only lost
(hours and hours of waiting for you, so strong and so fleeting)
the dream has just begun
(and hours of waiting for you...in hopes of meeting)
the dream has just begun
(meeting this way)
well, the dream has just begun!
she remembers how good it can be...
he remembers a melody....
ah...in the shadow of my shadow....in a gleam...
he remembers how good it can be....
she remembersa melody.....
well...in the shadow of my shadow....in a dream...whoa....
(hours and hours of waiting for you...so strong and so fleeting)
the dream has just begun
(hours and hours of waiting this way...meeting me...)
and hours of waiting for you
(so strong and so fleeting)
the dream has just begun
(i'm tired of meeting this way)
straight back now
(hours and hours of waiting...so strong and so fleeting)
hours and hours of waiting this way
hours and hours of waiting this way
straight back
straight back
straight back......yeah!!
he remembers a melody...
he remembers how good it can be...
straight back
straight back
straight back......yeah!!
***********************************************************
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Timely Matters
I count my days
By the breaths I take
For in those breaths
Come a hope of better tomorrow
For secounds turn to minutes
Minutes into hours
Hours into to days
They will go on after
I am gone
So with each breath I am blessed
To see all the Lords provided
This miracle called life
Which time is only a play thing
poem by David Kush

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where did I park my car?
1
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
had a coffee at the center
caught up with some friends
watched a movie
and bought some stuff for home
and now I can’t find my car
though I’ve searched past 10 minutes
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
no, that’s not mine
that’s a Mercedes;
that one’s too shiny;
and maybe it’s this one
- no, mate,
we won’t go any nearer
this car is too clean
mine will look like
it’s not been washed since Noah
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
2
well, yes, help me look out...
it’s an old Nissan
blue faded into white;
no, nobody ‘ll steal that
and the only people
who’d give it a second look
will be the traffic police
who’d wave as if to say:
Pull over, Sir;
let’s have a look at
your rego and front tyres
now, where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
well, damn,
I’m sure it hasn’t moved
it’s not that sort with smart technology
self-park, self-drive or with sensors;
it’s like an old useless dog
completely lost without its master
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
now that we’ve looked
about 30 minutes or more
I’m not sure if this is the right level;
Oh, did I stop at Yellow Level
or Blue or Green or Pink?
was it level 1 or 2 or 3 or 9?
it’s completely out of my mind
where did I park my car?
I’m sure I left it here
on this level
just hours before
ah, there it is
that old boneshaker;
thanks mate, for helping me look
You were saying you want a lift –
yes, come - I'll dropp you…no trouble…
yes, it’s just on the way…
Hey…Where you going?
What? Don’t want a lift?
You’d rather walk home?
Hey, what’s wrong with my car?
OK, suit yourself…
at least I found my faithful car…
where did I park my car?
it was Level 5, Yellow Sector
Lot 125
all the while
and that beauty was here each second
an old helpless dog, waiting for its master
poem by Raj Arumugam

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Drill Baby Drill
DRILL BABY DRILL
“Oh-oh say can you see”
Any beach-sand oil free
This pollution debris
A gift from corporate B P
DRILL BABY DRILL
This sea-borne disaster
Oil hardened like plaster
Needs a plug-the-leak master
To stop the oil gushing faster
DRILL BABY DRILL
Beautiful pelican creatures
Once with beautiful winged features
Now bogged down in oily slime
No longer enjoy their flying time
DRILL BABY DRILL
B P drilling for profits and dividends
Caused havoc with too many of natures friends
Along with much of the seafaring life
Who share the pelicans’ oily strife
DRILL BABY DRILL
The Gulf of Mexico now in distress
Is due to B P’s preventable oil laden mess
We’ve only one planet so we better beware
No more DRILL BABY DRILL-give Earth its due care
poem by Stanley Cooper

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Flight Delays (Life Poem)
Sympathyless disbelief when I complain again,
Delays are the balance for the glamour of flying.
Nine hours in Sao Paulo while the ATC strike,
Eight hours in Vienna while new wheel flies in,
Seven sins would be justified by this purgatory,
Six times six hours from CBB to DUB last week,
Five hours sweating in Port au Prince plastic chair,
Four hours for rain in Miami seems not so bad,
Three hours in Shannon for bomb threat search,
Two hours sitting in Seattle with mad dash in Kennedy.
One would be happier walking, swimming or driving.
poem by Ian Beckett

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Tonight
Tonight, tonight,
Won't be just any night,
Tonight there will be no morning star.
Tonight, tonight,
I'll see my love tonight!
And for us, stars will stop where they are.
Today The minutes seem like hours,
The hours go so slowly,
And still the sky is light.
Oh moon, grow bright,
And make this endless day endless night!
Tonight... no morning star.
Tonight...Tonight
Today The minutes seem like hours,
The hours go so slowly,
And still the sky is light.
Oh moon, grow bright,
And make this endless day endless night!
Tonight... tonight...tonight
Tonight will be no morning star
Tonight... tonigh
I'll see my love tonight
And for us, stars will stop right where they are.
Today The minutes seem like hours,
The hours go so slowly,
And still the sky is light.
Oh moon, grow bright,
And make this endless day endless night!
Tonight...
Tonight...
Tonight...
Tonight...
[email protected]
song performed by by Gloria Gaynor

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Win Some, Lose Some
Now you know
That I stood outside your window
Just a little too long.
What youre gonna do
When the hours pass away
And you know that Im gone.
Well, it may be a week,
It may be a day,
Im six blocks over
And I dont know what to say to you.
Jokin bout your mama
Went a little too far.
But you caught me
Out with the others
Till the early dawn.
There may be a time
If we played it right
Im six blocks over
And you wanna spend a night with me.
Now the hours and the minutes
Just fly away.
You win some and you lose some,
You gotta get it right
Or Ill be saying
Bye bye bye bye bye bye bye bye.
Thinkin back to
The way youre holdin me down,
Id be better off dead.
Now you know
That the time is running out
Of the things we said.
Well, it may be a week,
It may be a day,
Im six blocks over
And I dont know what to say to you.
Now the hours and the minutes
Just fly away.
You win some and you lose some,
You gotta get it right
Or Ill be saying
Bye bye bye bye ...
song performed by by Bryan Adams

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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7 Hours
Today's a sunny day
And there's a lot of time to go with it
For me
I want to celebrate and have fun for 7 hours
So ladies and gentlemen
Make the food
Fill up the drinks
It's going to be a fun 7 hours
I'll bring my poems
Maybe my photos
Perhaps even show the ladies a dance I know
7 hours
And the time is ours
Full of nice memories
Full of good times
Full of new friendships
Full of whatever we want to make of it
These 7 hours
These 7 hours of perhaps stress free and
drama free
These 7 hours to be what we want it to be
poem by Justin Gildow

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It's really not that hard. If I do a Tonight Show, it's six or seven minutes. If I do a concert, it's 90 minutes. If I do an interview, that's 15 minutes. So by the end of the day I've done three hours worth of work.
quote by Howie Mandel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Game Of Words In Any Place At Any Time...
this is my favorite game of words
that i engage in at any hour of the day
and in any other place
i can create them outside the paper and
without the use of pen
sometimes it happens that way when i ride
in a bus and the destination is 36 hours away
or even in a span of minutes
when sleep does not come
or when nap is nil
my fingers help to put music by tapping its nails
on the metal rail
and there is dancing and singing and some speeches in between
soliloquies
silhouettes
six-shooters
jailbirds
farmers reaping
hay on a sunny day
as though the room is a place where
party and conversations co-exist
i do not put more than what is necessary
it is enough to just survive the hours of pressure
the little training of torture
the principle has always been
i only use what is here
i discard what is not found here
there are no expectations from the beams
there is no show of shadows
i let imagination go
and let reality stay for a while
one by one i enumerate what i can contain by the numbers of my fingers
i think of the names
of friends
i gaze upon myself
i am glad i give myself a smile.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The impatient hours
The impatient hours
~
The drumming of fingers
The ticking of the clock
Loudly fill the impatient hours
Wasteful in their emptiness
Surely there must be something better
But the wait continues anyway
Waiting on a promise to come good
Hoping its not like past promises
Which all became just lies
Paranoia stalks the mind
Reminding of the past disappointments
Why should this one be any different
Why wait in stale confines
When you could leave, walk away
Forget the promise in an instant
The drumming of fingers
The ticking of the clock
Grow ever louder
Counting each possible outcome
The promise bares fruit
Or becomes another lie
Still waiting on the realisation
In the impatient hours
Wasting the day into nothing
poem by Matthew Holloway

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Our Tomorrows
Minutes fold into hours,
hours fold into days
and days fold into years
that quickly disappear away.
One day we are young
and then we are old
as time carries on
until we are no more.
In our universe,
we are alive no more
than a giant's
blink of an eye.
We strive to be remembered
in whatever field
we inspire to do
and never to be forgotten.
We try to live
a life to full measure
as if our tomorrows
depend on our today's.
11 June 2012
poem by David Harris

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That was my childhood. I grew up with the monks, studying Sanskrit and meditating for hours in the morning and hours in the evening, and going once a day to beg for food.
quote by Satish Kumar

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Coloured Hours
GRAY hours have cities,
Green hours have rhymes
Of hearts grown loving
In old summertimes,
But the white hours have only
A cloud in the sky
And a star, bright and lonely,
To remember them by.
Gold hours have laughter,
Red hours have song
Drawn from lost fountains
Of beauty and wrong.
But the white hours,–O, tender
As rose-flakes they lie,
With youth's fallen splendour
To remember them by.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

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Father Time
Stop the Time!
I listen to the jerky breathing of
the Father time...
I listen to the seconds,
minutes and hours,
seeping through the ruthless hourglass
of the God of Time - Chronos!
And I wonder:
Would it be possible for Father Time,
to stop breathing?
To have a respiratory arrest
for at least...20 years!
poem by Viorel Vintila

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