In the Wood
Blurred by a lilac heat, the meadows:
in the wood, cathedral shadows swirled.
What on earth was left for them to kiss? So
like wax, soft in the fingers, theirs, the world.
There’s a dream – you do not sleep, you only
dream you long for sleep: someone’s dozing,
two black suns are beating under eyelids,
burning eyelashes, while he’s slumbering.
Sunbeams play. Iridescent beetles flow by,
dragon-flies’ glass skims over his cheek.
With tiny scintillations, the wood’s alive,
like those the clockmakers’ tweezers seek.
It seems he slept to the tick of figures,
while in acid, amber ether, over his head,
the hands of a carefully tested clock quiver,
regulated precisely by tremors of heat.
They calibrate, they shake the pines,
scatter the shadow, exhaust and pierce
the darkness of timber raised up high,
in the day’s fatigue, on the blue clock-face.
It seems a primal happiness was setting,
it seems the wood was sunk in sunlit dream.
Happy folk don’t spend time clock-watching,
but this pair were only sleeping, it seems.
poem by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Tickity Tick Tock
can't sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
tick tock
tick tock
tickity tick
tock
tock
tock
the little hand drills a hole into my tired mind.
can't
tick
don't
tock
won't
tick
shan't
tock
never
tick
nev er
tock
never sleep
the clock keeps ticking
as my mind struggles to keep up
too many ticks.
too many tocks.
the clock's too loud
it echos through the silent night
too many thoughts
all at once
i need them on paper
scribble
tick
scribble
tock
that fucking clock
it never fucking stops
i cant fucking sleep.
a dog barks
tick
a car screeches
tock
a horse neighs...what?
i can't be that tired
i can't be hallucinating
i
can't
sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.
i need a digital clock
The Clock Keeps Ticking
I want alone to be
I want to drown in lonely sea
But the clock keeps ticking
I want to stop
I want to forever halt
But the clock keeps beating
I want to run
I want far away from land
But the clock keeps pursuing
I want to hide
I no more want to think of fight
But the clock keeps shouting
I want to rest
I want in dream hibernate
But the clock keeps breaking
I want to sing
I want to strengthen the spring
But the clock keeps shaking
I want to only follow
I no longer want to know
But the clock keeps pumping
I want to hurt
I don’t care if I should hate
But the clock keeps moving
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Guitar
I once knew a man
Showed me the slight of hand
In the blink of an eye, he danced across the strings
Played a song I'd never heard
Poignant and absurd
To this day it leaves me wondering
How I wish tomorrow I were fishin'
Boy I've got a mission
Shake it, rattle and roll
Ah, now, just use your intuition
You'll get less competition
From the clock up on the wall
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
A simple masquerade
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
'Cause we'll all make believe
Someone to deceive
Time is just a folly we can't see
You only know one song
Play it right or wrong
The truth is always somewhere in between
You and I, we can't change the weather
And we're all in this together
So let the strong winds blow
Ah, now things will be much better
If you don't become a prisoner
To the reason you should know
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
A simple masquerade
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
How I wish tomorrow I were fishin'
Boy I've got a mission
Shake it, rattle and roll
Ah, now, just use you intuition
You'll get less competition
From the clock up on the wall
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
A simple masquerade
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
Red wine or lemonade
Play on your Bl
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grand-Father's Clock
My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire --
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place -- not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night --
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight --
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Automation
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
steal lady of the night.
She sits alone while birdies flock
to bid her a goodnight.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
the world's automated
and the lady in a metal cloak
will live alone, unaided.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
her hard drive stirs again
and while I type this poem,
so dies my mighty pen.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
so true, so true the fear
that life as we once knew it
has slowly disappeared.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock
we victims of our time.
The last bird flies above us
while all of nature dies.
poem by Ruth Walters
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5 O'clock Dream
You came
At the 5 o’clock dream
Sat with me for sometime
Touched once with your lips
Left a wet imprint
It was still there when I woke up!
I asked, “Can’t we meet once more,
Just once? ”
You moved your head
A smile passed your face,
I couldn’t decipher,
“I’m always there,
And you always think of me,
Always, not just once”.
My eyes were wet
When the world woke me up
From the 5 o’clock dream!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Time Ticks
Reach out and rewind your clock before
it melts away like the flow
of crimson from a dying animal
that slowly loses its color,
for your clock ticks like a metronome
keeping time until the very last
beat of the song. Mend
your clock until your last
note is sung and your breath
is taken away from you. Before
the shadow that advances like water
filling in every crack gets to you,
rewind your clock to stay alive
and rid yourself of the tang
of fresh blood and the menacingly silent
ticking of your clock. Simply wrap
your trembling hand around the cool,
slippery surface of your timekeeper,
and rid your world of the stench
of Death. Or will you simply awaken
to find your death a mere dream?
Will you find that the reality
of Life is only a frank lie?
poem by Zoe Guillory
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At Six O'clock
I heard the Ave Maria at six o'clock,
Today hear crimes on the radio at six o'clock.
I watched The Little Princess on tv at six o'clock,
Today watch explicit sex at six o’clock.
I was playing catch-up with my friends at six o'clock,
Today lonely children play atari at six o'clock.
I drank hot soup at six o’clock,
Today guys smoke crack at six o'clock.
I prayed to the guardian angel at six o'clock,
Today they kill people at six o'clock.
I studied algebra at six o'clock,
Today are planned crimes at six o'clock.
I was happy at six o'clock,
Today are all scared at six o'clock.
Parody in honor of Llorca
poem by Aschelminto Da Silva
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Restful Sleep
I was sneaking off to sleep
and was waiting for my alarm to beep
and then I did weep,
with only three hours to sleep...
I could hear only
beep, beep, beep
From my bed I did ooze
and very quickly did press snooze,
crawled between my sheets,
fell into a restful sleep
until I heard a loud
beep, beep, beep
and once again, I did ooze
and once again, I did press snooze
but could not sleep
for all I could hear
was the tock, tock, tock
of the clock, clock, clock
I hit the sheets,
rose to my feet.
'You will not tock!
You stupid clock! '
and in the heat, it did
Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeeeeeeee.....
And with my all
I kicked the clock against the wall!
after which,
in my sheets I did creep,
and did nothing but
sleep, sleep, sleep
poem by Joseph Wordsmith
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Flexitime for Friend Denis joe
A blank faced clock which has no hands
must still obey Chronos’ commands.
The minutes pass without display.
Times moves on inexorably
the hours passing speedily
Today replaces yesterday.
Why are men obsessed by the clock
they measure every tick and tock.
What does it matter anyway?
we know that darkness rules the night
and that the day is filled by light.
Some time to sleep and work or play.
Avid clock watchers fail to see
that time can pass variably.
4-May-08
http: //Blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Monotony Of A Clock
I envy the monotony
Of every single clock I see
I behold the mystery of the clock
I'm jealous of each tick and tock
The variations of its hands
Are much greater than in my plan
All that changes in my life
Is how sad I am from day to night
If you listen carefully
You may just see what I see
What plans have you for our short-lived time?
Do you sit like me and rhyme?
Go out, be free
Let no schedule hinder thee
Wonder not upon the clock
I surely tell you, it won't stop
Unto our friend, you should not mock
But instead, respect this wise old clock
If for nothing else than this
It showed you the pain of repetitiveness
poem by Scott Marek
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Sonnet LXXXI
And now you're mine. Rest with your dream in my dream.
Love and pain and work should all sleep, now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels,
and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber.
No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,
we will go together, over the waters of time.
No one else will travel through the shadows with me,
only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.
Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away; your eyes closed like two gray
wings, and I move
after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Dreams Of Love
I am not a lazy to wake late every morning at 10.
Not a bad boy to sleep in class again n again.
Not even a psycho, who never talks with anyone.
I do is, just dream whenever I have a free time.
You were there for me in my every worst day.
We were made for each-other, that's what you used to say.
Happy, happy, we both in our beautiful world.
Till for you, our relation became bore and old.
Fine, may be not as lovers we could be good friends.
I didn't want to leave but you told what ii has, has all end.
I don't study, go to play, to disco, to enjoy or any pub.
In my free time I just dream of my long gone love.
So I sleep n sleep cause, only in my dream I can be with you
Dream of Beautiful moments we spend which already had flew.
poem by Sushanta Rokka
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Old Folks
The old folks dont talk much
They talk so slowly when they do
They are rich they are poor
Their illusions are gone
They share one heart for to
Their homes all smell of tyme
Of old photographs
And an old fashioned song
Though you may live in town
You live so far away
When youve lived to long
Have they laughed to much
Do their dry voices crack
Talking of things gone by
Have they cried to much
A tear or two still always seems
To cloud the eye
They tremble as they watch the old silver clock
When day is through
Tick tock oh so slow
It says yes it says no
It says I wait for you
The old folks dream no more
Their books have gone to sleep
The pianos out of tune
The little cat is dead
And no more do they sing on a sunday afternoon
The old folks move no more
Their world become to small
Their bodies feel like lead
They might look out a window
Or else sit it a chair
Or else they stay in bed
And if they still go out
Arm and arm, arm and arm
In the mornings chill
Its to have a good cry
To say their last goodbye
To one whose older still
And then they go home
To the old silver clock
When day is through
Tick tock so so slow
It says yes it says no
It says I wait for you
The old folks never die
They just put down their heads
And go to sleep one day
They will hold each others hands
Like children in the dark
But one will get lost anyway
And the other will remain
Just sitting in a room
Which makes no sound
It doesnt matter now
The song has died away
And echos all around
Youll see them as they walk
Through the sun filled parks
Where children run and play
It hurst to much to smile
It hurts so much
But life goes on for still another day
As they try to escape the old silver clock
When day is through
Tick tock oh so slow
It says yes it says no
It says I wait for you
The old old silver clock
Thats hanging on the wall
That waits for us all
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New-Year's Eve
Good old days--dear old days
When my heart beat high and bold--
When the things of earth seemed full of life,
And the future a haze of gold!
Oh, merry was I that winter night,
And gleeful our little one's din,
And tender the grace of my darling's face
As we watched the new year in.
But a voice--a spectre's, that mocked at love--
Came out of the yonder hall;
'Tick-tock, tick-tock!' 't was the solemn clock
That ruefully croaked to all.
Yet what knew we of the griefs to be
In the year we longed to greet?
Love--love was the theme of the sweet, sweet dream
I fancied might never fleet!
But the spectre stood in that yonder gloom,
And these were the words it spake,
'Tick-tock, tick-tock'--and they seemed to mock
A heart about to break.
'T is new-year's eve, and again I watch
In the old familiar place,
And I'm thinking again of that old time when
I looked on a dear one's face.
Never a little one hugs my knee
And I hear no gleeful shout--
I am sitting alone by the old hearthstone,
Watching the old year out.
But I welcome the voice in yonder gloom
That solemnly calls to me:
'Tick-tock, tick-tock!'--for so the clock
Tells of a life to be;
'Tick-tock, tick-tock!'-'tis so the clock
Tells of eternity.
poem by Eugene Field
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Me Against the Clock
Running out of space,
Running out of time,
I must escape,
Before I lose my Frame of mind,
The clock it keeps going,
But where am I,
Still stuck on one,
When I should say goodbye,
The clock: Tick, Tick, Tick,
Why do I stay,
When He's such a D**k,
Yet, I Feel Happy,
I must Break Free,
I must Let go,
Cuz this aint me,
I should have known,
The clock strikes 12,
And the Fairy Tale Ends,
I'm still myself,
But Now Forver Broken.
poem by Dezere DeLaRoca
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Now And Then
NOW
Sometimes we feel so awfully tired
and lay atop the bed.
We wait for sleep to find us
and cradle our heavy head.
But sleep doesn't seem to come anymore
as easy as it once did.
For Pandora's box, filled with its woes
is trying to escape its lid.
THEN
Our youthful bodies would shut right down'from all our tireless play.
Our minds were peaceful and quiet
from simple thinking all day.
The sandman would sprinkle sand
and bring to us sweet dreams.
We were dead to the world in our bed
and never fretful it seems.
NOW
We feel the tick of every minute
filling up our ears.
We lay there wishing we were Rip Van Winkle,
asleep for a hundred years.
Slowly the hands of the clock we watch
make its way towards morn.
We're lucky to have 3 hours of sleep
before a new day is born.
THEN
We opened our eyes and jumped out of bed,
refreshed and on the go.
All of our tiredness taken away.
We had plenty of seeds to sow.
We slept 10 hours, sometimes more
and never saw the clock.
Slowly we left our youth behind
and opened Pandora's lock
To NOW.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Leves Amores
I
Your kisses, and the way you curl,
Delicious and distracting girl,
Into one's arms, and round about,
Luxuriously in and out
Twining inextricably, as twine
The clasping tangles of the vine;
Strong to embrace and long to kiss,
And strenuous for the sharper bliss,
Insatiably enamoured of
The ultimate ecstasy of love.
So loving to be loved, so gay
And greedy for our holiday;
And then how prettily you sleep!
You nestle close, and let me keep
My straying fingers in the nest
Of your warm comfortable breast;
And as I lie and dream awake,
Unsleeping for your sleeping sake,
I feel the very pulse and heat
Of your young life-blood beat, and beat
With mine; and you are mine, my sweet!
II
The little bedroom papered red,
The gas's faint malodorous light,
And one beside me in the bed,
Who chatters, chatters, half the night.
I drowse and listen, drowse again,
And still, although I would not hear,
Her stream of chatter, like the rain,
Is falling, falling on my ear.
The bed-clothes stifle me, I ache
With weariness, my eyelids prick;
I hate, until I long to break,
That clock for its tyrannic tick.
And still beside me, through the heat
Of this September night, I feel
Her body's warmth upon the sheet
Burn through my limbs from head to heel.
And still I see her profile lift
Its tiresome line above the hair,
That streams, a dark and tumbled drift,
Across the pillow that I share
poem by Arthur Symons
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Another Nine Minutes
(tim douglas/billy crain/tim beppert)
(track 2 - time 3:10)
Six thirty in the morning
Im in the middle of the sweetest dream
When I hear that clock calling me
I wrestle with the feeling
That the days starting way too soon
I hit the button just to buy a little time
To keep you in these arms of mine
For another nine minutes
Let the world stop
Steal a few moments from this old clock
cause this is my dream and I want to stay in it
For another nine minutes
I love the way the sunlight
Dances on your perfect skin
Girl, I wish this night would never end
But we gotta get moving
Cant eat if we dont get paid
But I got us a better idea
Lets pull up the covers and stay right here
For another nine minutes
Let the world stop
Steal a few moments from this old clock
cause this is my dream and I want to stay in it
For another nine minutes
I hit the button just one more time
To keep you in these arms of mine
For another nine minutes
Let the world stop
Steal a few moments from this old clock
cause this is my dream and I want to stay in it
For another nine minutes
Let the world wait
Whose gonan care if were a little bit late
This is my dream and I want to stay in it
song performed by by Yankee Grey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Afraid To Sleep
We slept in this room together but now youre gone
And its so quiet I turn the tv on
We lived in this room together we painted the walls
Now time doesnt stand still
It crawls
And Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
I never realized how much I was in love with you
Until you started sleeping with someone new
Last night I dreamed again and you were there
You kissed my face you touched my hair
And Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
Lying alone in the darkness with a memory in my head
Theres a big hole where my heart is
And a lonely feeling rollin round my bed
And Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
On the pillow where I weep
Im afraid to sleep.
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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