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Time Flies
Aint much time left in my life
I'm all stressed out time to fly
Im on my way
Im on my way
I cant let go
I cant wake up
Time flies...
Flies...
One more step and im falling off the mountain
One more pill who cares nobodys counting
They told me to sing it to the birds
Sing it to the birds
Noones listening
One more step and im falling off the mountain
The mountain sang to me
Love...
The mountain sang to me
Love...
Sitting up on this little bitty hill
Will i make something out of myself?
Sitting up on this little bitty hill
Will i make something out of myself?
I can't let go
I can't wake up
Time flies...
Time flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah (dont you know)
Time flies...
Aint much time left in my life
I'm all stressed out time to fly
Im on my way
Im on my way
I cant let go
I cant wake up
Time flies...
(dont you know time flies)
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Yeah
Flies...
Yeah
Time flies...
Flies...
Flies...
Flies...
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funny How Time Flies
Il me plait d'etre l avec tu.
Je ne sais pas ou ou le temps s'est enfui.
Oh je t'aime mon chri.
Funny how time flies when you're having fun
Ooh baby
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Oh baby
I don't know where it all went
Time passed us by
Just when it seemed the fun began
Ooh
Funny how time flies when you're having fun, please stay
Funny how time flies (please stay) when you're having fun, mmm
But time never ends
Let's find the time
To get together once again, someday soon
Funny how time flies when you're having fun, mmm, yeah, hoo
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Don't you ever leave
(Funny how time flies when you're having fun)
Don't you ever go
Say you love me so
(Funny how time flies when you're having fun)
Mmm
Funny how time flies when you're having fun
When you're having fun, yeah, hmhmm
Funny how time flies when you're having fun (fun)
Je ne sais pas ou le temps s'est enfui.
Il me plait d'etre l avec tu.
I really don't know where all the time went
I really have to go
Stop, stop
Oh I really have to go
Oh, I really have to go
One more time?
Oh je t'aime mon cheri.
Ohoh, oh
song performed by by Janet Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like the Flies in Winter
like flies at the end of summer/we all slow down as age advances, as age, time and clocks advance/ the coming ocean of time/like London Bridges, we all fall down
Like flies in winter, near a cold white windowpane, who are slowing like molasses. Cold lonliness on one side/white paint chips on the other
Like flies in winter/flies in autumn, who are swimming throught the air in slow motion.
Not so much the flies of summer
godblessamen
like fireflies flickering in the end/we are here and we are gone,
we eventually burn out.
poem by Samuel Stuart Pennell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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March Flies
Now comes the time when we douse flies
With various kinds of sprays
The sand flies, and the house flies,
And the flies with furtive ways.
But I keep my hate for the large flies
That come for the tree-lined creek
Those arch flies, the March flies
With a crosscut saw for a beak.
Now, most flies rouse in the autumn
From the summer's drowsy daze,
And they bite as nature taught 'em,
In various styles and ways.
They nip, or they stab or they burrow;
But the fly that knocks me out
Is the March fly, with the dull, dead eye
And a crosscut saw for a snout.
Now the house flies come to the table
Or busily play on the pane;
And our rage and heat they calmly treat
With the uttermost disdain.
And the buzz-flies buzz and blunder,
And the sandflies dig right in;
But my whole soul shrinks when the March fly sinks
His crosscut under my skin.
He's a sneak and an arrant coward,
And the lowest of low-down cows,
By nature ghoulishly dowered
With a weapon no law allows.
And it isn't the pain he gives me
Nor the blood he may chance to draw,
It's the loathsome way that he makes foul play
With his really terrible,
Most unbearable,
Horrible crosscut saw.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time and words can't be recalled, even if it was only yesterday.
Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana.
Passage
It was crystal clear
At first
Then developed a haze
With the passage of time
Things remembered … clearly before
Now recalled quite differently
Time itself changing
Tilting forward…leaning back
Smokey film draped
Upon time silvered webs
Time weathered memories
…Slowly fading…
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going Back in Time
On a visit to my home town,
I don’t know after how long.
I was struck by the old world charm,
People seemed serene and calm.
I went to all my favourite haunts
And caught up with old sweet hearts.
Years had lapsed, but we felt as if it was yesterday,
We recalled what fun it was on our birthdays.
We laughed and talked till wee hours,
As it got cold we lit a bonfire
And teased and mocked as if were children.
Growing up then was a real fun.
Our needs were few,
Perhaps, that’s all we knew.
There was a wonderful simplicity of desire.
Nostalgically we recalled as we saw the dying fire.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hail
the gloomy sky
all night cry
why, why, why?
because you died.
your life was
like the flies
flies, flies and dies.
poem by Jankovic Zoran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This is your Time
If time flies,
you should learn
from the cries...
You should think thoughtfully
and act more wisely
to boost your daily commitment
in favour of others
who lack any achievement.
If time flies,
you should be more optimistic,
trying to be realistic.
On addressing major issues
you should be honest, fair
'cause in the world
it has been so rare,
and for others you should care!
(January 2010)
poem by Maria C. Costa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But meanwhile time flies; it flies never to be regained.
Time And Love
Time flies. The swift hours hurry by
And speed us on to untried ways;
New seasons ripen, perish, die,
And yet love stays.
The old, old love – like sweet at first,
At last like bitter wine –
I know not if it blest or curst,
Thy life and mine.
Time flies. In vain our prayers, our tears,
We cannot tempt him to delays;
Down to the past he bears the years,
And yet love stays.
Through changing task and varying dream
We hear the same refrain,
As one can hear a plaintive theme
Run through each strain.
Time flies. He steals out pulsing youth,
He robs us of our care-free days,
He takes away our trust and truth,
And yet love stays.
O Time! take love! When love is vain,
When all its best joys die –
When only its regrets remain –
Let love, too, fly.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yesterday
Today is lived.
And there they stay,
In heated debate.
About what took place,
Yesterday.
And who did what and when.
How they dressed!
And what impressed them.
With recalled expressions on their faces.
Another day is lived!
And there they stay,
In heated debate.
About what took place,
Yesterday.
And who did what and when.
How they dressed!
And what impressed them.
With recalled expressions on their faces.
And yet another day to them comes.
And there they stay,
In heated debate.
About what took place,
Yesterday.
And who did what and when.
How they dressed!
And what impressed them.
With recalled expressions on their faces.
Few if any live in the 'now'.
Or have their eyes on tomorrow.
Because...
There they stay,
In heated debate.
About what took place,
Yesterday.
And who did what and when.
How they dressed!
And what impressed them.
With recalled expressions on their faces.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Is Time
Time sits
Time stands
Time is time.
Time craws
Time walks
Time is time.
Time runs
Time flies
Time is time.
Time changes
Time stands-still
Time is time.
Time goes forward
Time goes backward
Time is time, it is time
poem by Isaac Maliya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inspiration
Inspiration can't be seen.
I mean…you can only feel it.
Your wit won't help a bit
So that to convey the feelings,
To create a real art
That comes straight from the heart,
Like a holy writ recommit
God's gift and revelation.
How do I feel my inspiration?
It's not a certain motivation,
But only my emotions
And certain commotions.
Just the same in other words:
Inspiration is like birds or …
It is something very crazy,
Something very lazy,
Something weepy,
Something very sleepy,
Something very heavy
Or impossibly high.
This something
Becomes suddenly light,
Light as a cloud, and flies,
Flies, flies, flies, flies…
Up to the moment it dies.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 8th of September,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turn Around
Jimmy saw the sun chase away the night
It was a quarter past seven
His body warm like the morning light
Had to be in school by eleven
He told himself what they had done to him
That's why Jimmy never felt real sad
If only someone could have lent a hand
Things would have never turned out so bad
Who knows why black flies just live for one day
Who knows why
Hey turn around
It's time to wake up and go back to tell the story
Hey turn around
It's time to wake up and go back to tell the story now
Always sat alone in the back of the class
Because no one would take him
Today he stood in front of the rest
His hands were shaking
Who could have known what Jimmy thought
Never had a chance to speak his words out loud
The flies were burning in his head till
Jimmy let them all out
Who knows why black flies just live for one day
Who knows why
Hey turn around
It's time to wake up and go back to tell the story
Hey turn around
It's time to wake up and go back to tell the story now
It didn't pay to make fun of him
Too late to say
song performed by by Green Lizard from Identity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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March Of Time
Hours of lust, hours of tears passing by before my eyes
Today, tomorrow, yesterday. . .one life
Days of joy, day of sadness come and go to pass me by
A month, a year, one hundred years, they fly
Bridge: ohh, one day I will be gone to lead another life
Ohh, and this world will stop to turn around with me
cause
Chorus: time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On without us all, never stops, yes
Time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On and on and on, flies eternally
Times of peace, times of fights, constant movement is our life
Cant stop no more, not until. . .we die
We long for more. . .eternity, and maybe theres another life
This one is short, no matter how you try
Bridge: ohh, but never give up all the hope to lead a good life
No, dont waste your given time to make things worse
Chorus: time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
One without us all, never stops, yes
Time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On and on and on, flies eternally
Plese, please help me see, the best way to be
Make a change and we, live eternally
No more wasted years, no more wasted tears
Lifes too short to cry, long enough to try
Chorus: time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On without us all, never stops, yes
Time. . .marches
Time. . .marches
On and on and on, flies eternally
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The United Fruit Co.
When the trumpet sounded, it was
all prepared on the earth,
the Jehovah parcelled out the earth
to Coca Cola, Inc., Anaconda,
Ford Motors, and other entities:
The Fruit Company, Inc.
reserved for itself the most succulent,
the central coast of my own land,
the delicate waist of America.
It rechristened its territories
as the ’Banana Republics’
and over the sleeping dead,
over the restless heroes
who brought about the greatness, the liberty and the flags,
it established the comic opera:
abolished the independencies,
presented crowns of Caesar,
unsheathed envy, attracted
the dictatorship of the flies,
Trujillo flies, Tacho flies,
Carias flies, Martines flies,
Ubico flies, damp flies
of modest blood and marmalade,
drunken flies who zoom
over the ordinary graves,
circus flies, wise flies
well trained in tyranny.
Among the blood-thirsty flies
the Fruit Company lands its ships,
taking off the coffee and the fruit;
the treasure of our submerged
territories flow as though
on plates into the ships.
Meanwhile Indians are falling
into the sugared chasms
of the harbours, wrapped
for burials in the mist of the dawn:
a body rolls, a thing
that has no name, a fallen cipher,
a cluster of the dead fruit
thrown down on the dump.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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True love never dies
Fiddle the riddle
Wiggle with the riddle
For true love never dies
Except those empty white lies
Love never says goodbye
It just flies
Low and high
Fiddle the riddle
Wiggle with the riddle
Perhaps you can unfold
The puzzle of true love not told
The love I know may sometimes fizzle
Then sparkle with the eye of a twinkle
After wear out like an ageless wrinkle
So I hear your cry and with you I sigh
True love itself never dies
True love never says goodbye
True love never tells a lie
True love never asks the reason why
It just flies and flies and flies and flies
Or it flies past you by
2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drought
Midsummer noon: and the timbered walls
start in the heat;
and the children sag listlessly over the desks,
with bloodless faces oozing sweat
sipped by the stinging flies.
Outside, the tall sun fades the shabby mallee
and drives the ants deep underground;
the stony driftsand shrivels
the drab, sparse plants;
there's not a cloud in all the sky to cast
a shadow on the tremulous plain.
Stirless the windmills; thirsty cattle, standing despondently about the empty tanks;
stamping and tossing their heads,
in torment of the flies from dawn to dark.
For ten parched days it has been like this
and, although I love the desert I
have found myself
dreaming
of upright gums by a mountain creek
where the red borinia blooms,
where bellbirds chime through the morning mists,
and greeness can hide from the sun;
of rock-holes where the brumbies slink
like swift cloud-shadows from the gidgee scrub
to drink when the moon is low.
And as I stoop to drink, I too,
just as I raise my cupped hands to my lips,
I am recalled the drought-stricken plain
but the petulant question
of a summer - wearied child.
poem by Flexmore Hudson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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