Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
whom could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has come to haunt me, to remind me
of shut scented rooms,
of past sensual pleasure - what daring pleasure.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer here.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people, feelings
of the dead so little acknowledged.
Half past twelve. How the time has gone by.
Half past twelve. How the years have gone by.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
It's Five O'Clock Somewhere
[Alan:]
The sun is hot and that old clock,
is movin' slow, and so am I.
Work day passes like molasses,
in winter time, but it's July.
Getting paid by the hour,
and older by the minute.
My boss just pushed me,
over the limit.
I could call him something,
think I'll just call it a day...
Pour me something tall and strong.
Make it a hurricane, before I go insane.
It's only half past twelve. But I don't care,
it's five o'clock somewhere.
This lunch break is gonna take
all afternoon, half the night.
Tomorrow morning I know there'll be hell to pay,
but, hey, that's all right.
I ain't had a day off now, in over a year.
My Jamaican vacation's gonna start right here.
If the phone's for me you can tell them
I just sailed away....
Pour me something tall and strong.
Make it a hurricane, before I go insane.
It's only half past twelve. But I don't care,
it's five o'clock somewhere.
[Instrumental]
I could pay off my tab, pour myself in a cab,
and be back to work before two.
At a moment like this, I can't help but wonder,
what would Jimmy Buffett do.
[Jimmy:]
Funny you should ask Alan, I'd say...
Pour me something tall and strong.
Make it a hurricane, before I go insane.
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care.
[Together:]
Pour me something tall and strong.
Make it a hurricane, before I go insane.
It's only half past twelve. But I don't care,
it's five o'clock somewhere.
[Alan:]
... but he don't care, I don't care.
Together
It's five o'clock somewhere.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Five O'clock Somewhere
The sun is hot and that old clock is movin' slow,
An' so am I.
Work day passes like molasses in wintertime,
But it's July.
I'm gettin' paid by the hour, an' older by the minute.
My boss just pushed me over the limit.
I'd like to call him somethin',
I think I'll just call it a day.
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
Oh, this lunch break is gonna take all afternoon,
An' half the night.
Tomorrow mornin', I know there'll be hell to pay,
Hey, but that's all right.
I ain't had a day off now in over a year.
Our Jamaican vacation's gonna start right here.
if the 'phones for me,
You can tell 'em I just sailed away.
An' pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
I could pay off my tab, pour myself in a cab,
An' be back to work before two.
At a moment like this, I can't help but wonder,
What would Jimmy Buffett do?
JIMMY BUFFETT:
Funny you should ask Alan,
I'd say:
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
ALAN JACKSON & JIMMY BUFFETT:
Pour me somethin' tall an' strong,
Make it a "Hurricane" before I go insane.
It's only half-past twelve but I don't care.
He don't care.
I don't care.
It's five o'clock somewhere.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
What time zone am I on? What country am I in?
ALAN JACKSON:
It doesn't matter, it's five o'clock somewhere.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
It's always on five in Margaritaville, come to think of it.
ALAN JACKSON:
Yeah, I heard that.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
You been there haven't you.
ALAN JACKSON:
Yes, sir.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
I seen your boat there.
ALAN JACKSON:
I've been to Margaritaville a few times.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
All right, well that's good.
ALAN JACKSON:
Stumbled all the way back.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
OK. Just wanna make sure you can keep it between the navigational beacons.
ALAN JACKSON:
Between the bouys, I gotcha.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
All right. Well, it's five o'clock. Let's go somewhere.
ALAN JACKSON:
I'm ready, crank it up.
JIMMY BUFFETT:
Let's get out of here.
ALAN JACKSON:
I'm gone.
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look at the Time! (A Drinking Song)
Look at the time! It's half-past six!
Time for me to be getting my kicks!
I'll have some whisky,
It'll make me frisky,
And then I'll get up to my usual tricks!
Look at the time! It's half-past seven!
And I feel that I should be going to heaven!
I'll have some rum
'Cos I'm not dumb,
And then I'll be drunk by ten to eleven!
Look at the time! It's half-past eight!
I didn't know it was getting so late!
I'll have some brandy
Instead of shandy,
And then I'll be able to face my fate!
Look at the time! It's half-past nine!
(And I know that this doesn't really rhyme!)
I'll have some gin,
It's a bit of a sin,
It's time for a party and I'm feeling fine!
Look at the time! It's half-past ten!
Time to go back to bed again!
I really think
I've had enough to drink,
But I'll be back on the bottle tomorrow again!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The time will come
Dark and silenced night
Surrounded me with a light
Aroused the past away I kept
No one knows I have a threat
Closed windows and doors by myself
I am the guard ever paid for myself
Keys are on the top of the books self
How did the past come at twelve half?
Extinguished inside lamps one by one
Before the last time of church bell rung
Without one in front nearby home
Everything was quite and to me no calm
Bed is aside alone as same unprepared
Some books are on the table unclosed
Ticking the clock like a ghost reminded
Sitting on the chair the past questioned
Burden on the head and unrest twitching in soul
Getting together and insist me to give up you fool
The way and the key I know that you have all
Behind me they don't know the fact of real
Becoming familiar for racking and suffering
Keep me alone useless by threatening
Time and the space one night will be guiding
For that moment without asleep I am waiting
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twelve O'Clock
Mother, I do want to leave off my lessons now. I have been at my
book all the morning.
You say it is only twelve o'clock. Suppose it isn't any later;
can't you ever think it is afternoon when it is only twelve
o'clock?
I can easily imagine now that the sun has reached the edge of
that rice-field, and the old fisher-woman is gathering herbs for
her supper by the side of the pond.
I can just shut my eyes and think that the shadows are growing
darker under the madar tree, and the water in the pond looks shiny
black.
If twelve o'clock can come in the night, why can't the night
come when it is twelve o'clock?
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Rhapsody on a Windy Night
Twelve o'clock.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Dissolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said, "Regard that woman
Who hesitates towards you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her dress
Is torn and stained with sand,
And you see the corner of her eye
Twists like a crooked pin."
The memory throws up high and dry
A crowd of twisted things;
A twisted branch upon the beach
Eaten smooth, and polished
As if the world gave up
The secret of its skeleton,
Stiff and white.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the strength has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Half-past two,
The street lamp said,
"Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter."
So the hand of a child, automatic,
Slipped out and pocketed a toy that was running along the quay.
I could see nothing behind that child's eye.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp muttered in the dark.
The lamp hummed:
"Regard the moon,
La lune ne garde aucune rancune,
She winks a feeble eye,
She smiles into corners.
She smoothes the hair of the grass.
The moon has lost her memory.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone
With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain."
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars."
The lamp said,
"Four o'clock,
Here is the number on the door.
Memory!
You have the key,
The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair,
Mount.
The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,
Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life."
The last twist of the knife.
poem by T.S. Eliot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I wish that we could forever
Our love came to fullness,
before the church bell
rang off midnight.
Before twelve o’clock you where a well built nymph,
that kisses and are kissed
and I was free from everything around me.
My small manhood got a life of its own
and grew much larger
and was prominent against you
You were the flower,
that lovingly folded open and draw me tenderly deeper
into the godly dew inside of you.
I could feel you shake and tremble beneath me
and I were part of you and you of me
and so intense was that pleasure, that soul and spirit melted together.
The night passes dark and the moon and stars,
flies past in the sky and a smell like that of rain
hangs shrouding between you and me.
Your soft body lies hot against me and I am amazed,
when we lie like Adam and Eve naked
and no words can really express our emotions and feelings.
At two o’clock we again thirst for each other
and the windowpanes are wet with the rain,
that sieves down outside and somewhere a thunder strikes down.
a Neighbour’s dog howls like a wolf for the night,
but no whether and nothing can stop the passion
and the feelings between us
and I wish that we could forever be
like this in each other’s arms.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Identity Of Moment
At twelve of night philosopher thinks with a cup of tea
At twelve of night exuded in dream
At twelve of night cloud of blue sky burns
At twelve of night strip by strip waves fall to ground
At twelve of night full moon flashes of light
At twelve of night horn of car strikes on door
At twelve of night couple enters into dwell of love
At twelve of night loud cry of progenitors comes
At twelve of night machinegun of devilish roars
At twelve of night whistles of train strikes
At twelve of night the red sun of monument raises.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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You'll Know You Were Loved
Some things come to he who waits
but all is lost if you hesitate
And I was never one to wait
you'll know you were loved
You can hire great lawyers, you can speak to your friends
you can say he did this and that some things don't change
Unwrap the present and burn the remains
but you'll know you were loved
Now you take Roscoe, he ain't much
people say things are ruined after his touch
It's like a tar was dripping from his brush
but you'll know you were loved
Or Stan or Jake emerging from your past
from those love affairs that didn't last
But me, I'll give it my last gasp
and you'll know you were loved
A parrot, a donkey, a dog, a bone
some of us never had a home
And if we did we left it long ago
and didn't know we were loved
Empty as a wooden clock
left in the woods at twelve o'clock
Insides all rusted and spring is popped
but you'll know you were loved
Even when you sleep at night
inside your heart will cry
You can never say goodbye
when you know you were loved
Under-achievers of the world unite
You have nothing to lose except your fright
And together we can perhaps past the night
when you know you were loved
And together we can perhaps past the night
when you know you were loved
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No more grief
It is humane to cry over split milk
Can not afford for cotton still long for silk
Exactly opposite to the God’s will
No happiness and contentment still
No dead can be brought to life
Same can happen with your dearest wife
One departed means once for all
No use of crying over it and wishing for recall
It is nature’s cycle and inevitable
Even though we may be strong and capable
So many things we can do or attain
But the past events are difficult to maintain
Many might have glorious past
The life would have been easy and spent very fast
They might have lived with colorful situation
They would have wished too for its permanent continuation
It is not easy to forget passed events
They might have passed as fast movement
No one can reel back the time
It has gone off and not remained as prime
It should not have any bearing on future
As no one is confident and very much sure
The past can be buried and present can be pushed
Careful planning for future and not to be rushed
The past is hunting you like grave wound
The is not with you or can never be found
It keeps you restless and does not allow you to rest
There will be no use shedding tears and not trying best
As the cloak can not be pushed back
So the time and fortune can not be brought back too
The lesson must be taken from it to go ahead
Certainly the uncertainty must be over and fears must be allayed
It is advised not to worry so much
Things can not be brought back as such
It is thing of past and must be treated
As by gone is by gone and purpose is defeated
It will be futile attempt to live under fallacy
You will be helpless and live under mercy
You must come out of past shock
As the time go on ticking in clock
It is natural to be alert on your part
It is normal way and no body can depart
It you cling to old things and do not forgo
There won’t be any place left to go
So try to be flexible and possibly adjust
It is very much essential and must
One should remain vigilant all the time and be careful
It is going to be very much useful
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Friday
I live in an Ice house a
I never do dance salsa
I'm living in Jamaca
I live in an Ice Breaker
I'm living in Africa
I never do Know where a
Where I'm living but I'm living in a free fall
Whenever she goes away
Might as well be in San Jose
'Cause I never can tell where my
Where my heart's gonna spend it's time
Half of me's missing
I miss her Kissing
I don't know nothing but I know
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
My head is a hurricane
My mind is a touch insane
and my body can't sleep to dream
And my Eyes open up to scream
And my mouth is a thin straight line
As I'm struggling to pass the time
And my crime is that I'm living life without her
And the morning soon will come
And the days nearly almost done
And the clock says it's half past five
But the sun is still in the sky
Disorientated
Insatiated
How long I've waited but I know
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
She's coming back on Friday
song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield from Gotta Get Thru This
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Symbol Clock
A long breathed soul shelved therein
Tick-tock-ing in his unseeable lub-dubs
Embedded therealong an oracular code
Tick-tock-ing of a proud make infallible
Striking one to twelve times two times
Over half-past a century via a pedigree
Pursued by his symbol-clock great grand-pa
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Just A Test
Like a flag at half mast as frames click fast
Not a thing will last as past is past
Like stacks of thoughts that got played and worn
Used over and over till they were tired and torn
Like a broken clock that can't tell time
Like a thick ass book that's filled with wack rhymes
Like a scorching blaze that burned the sand
Like a band that planned and planned and planned
And flew down like a raven in the dark of night
And snatched up the worm helpless to fight
And brought it back to the nest singing microphone check
One two one two this is just a test
Like sand in one hand You can't hold for long
Like scheming on a plan that goes all wrong
Like fudge and caramel they're not the same
And it's a shame all you talk is game
You act like a diamond waiting to be set
In a gold ring
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Benign Time
There was a young man called Ben,
Who liked to watch the clock
It made him a nervous wreck
He developed a 'tick' not a tock
As he wondered the streets with his friend
Every minute he heard passing by
He lost count of the days and the weeks
And the blurr of the past made him cry
How could time be timeless
When every minute another day past?
Sick of being stuck
He threw down the clock
Under a truck going past
Now, 'If all time is really eternal'
who gives a damn about days
He'd forgotten the year
And went off for a beer
And rolled home in heavenly haze!
T.S.Eser GEEZER
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas High
I'm finding myself on a Christmas high
Lot's of loving family and I know that's why
People all around me, so full of cheer
Wanting to see me, is why they are here
Family all close in one house of love
And mother with me, from heaven above
Oh please don't let this great high leave
It will be back to my old self, where I will grieve
In that deep black hole I must not fall
Coming out will be such a slow crawl
I will fight hard to not let it in
I don't want to travel back to where I’ve been
Past is past, must keep it buried
For so many years, this pain I’ve carried
Going to make a New Years resolution this very year
Going to hold back old feelings, try to keep my mind clear!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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A Park Bench
Sitting on a park bench
in an old favourite haunt,
reflections of the past drift
by on origamic clouds in the blue.
Stripping back the years
to fragmented pictures of a time so far away.
Dewdrops on petals sparkle
under a morning sunrise
as waking creatures scamper
across the plains of Solomon's heights
where mushrooms create
fairy circles in the shade.
Captured by the moments
time slowly slips away
into the partitions of yesterday
when young lives knew
no boundaries they could not reach
in their quest for heavenly love.
Pictures of youth sail past
in momentary glimpses
as years entangled with the fury
within responsibilities reaches
and age wears on the body from youth to old.
As still above us the sky remain solitary.
The sea moves on its solitary quests
as our frowns grow deeper on our foreheads,
and still lies a park bench holding
in all the raptures of the young and old
who sat upon it to ponder for a while
on the thoughts of their lives.
25 October 2012
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's The Use Of Getting Sober
Dv = deep voice, sv = squeaky voice
Dv: boy, you listen to your old pappy
Sv: yeah, pappy
Dv: and stop drinking so much
Sv: i'm-i'm ain't been doing so much drinking, pappy
Dv: shut up, boy! you drink all day and you drink all night and you know, son, that that ain't right
Sv: oh pappy, you just give me a chance. i, i can, i . . .
Dv: shut up, boy! boy, you're lookin' thin as a twig
Sv: i know that . . .
Dv: look likes your dear old pappy - about to blow your wig
Sv: oh i'm gonna blow my wig, pappy
What's the use of getting sober
When you're gonna get drunk again
Oh sam done something fine
When he bought that good whiskey, beer and wine
I love my whiskey and i love my gin
Every time you see me i'm in my sin
So what's the use of getting sober
When you're gonna get drunk again
Dv:
I went out last night about half past one
Thought i'd whoop it up a little and have some fun
I got me a half pint about half past two
Mmm, mmm, the way i was feeling you know what i wanna do
Got me a pint about half past four
Felt so good, went out and got me some more
Got me a quart about half past five
Boy, that was so nice didn't know if i was dead or alive
So what's the use of getting sober if you're gonna get drunk again
Oh sam done something fine
When he bought that good whiskey, beer and wine
I love my whiskey and i love my gin
Every time you see me i'm in my sin
So what's the use of getting sober
When you're gonna get drunk again
Well i've been thinking
But i keep drinking
I guess i'm 'bout lose my mind
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's The Use Of Getting Sober (When You're Gonna Get Drunk Again)
(words and music by Bubsy Meyers)
[DV = dark voice, SV = squeaky voice]
DV: Boy, you listen to your old Pappy
SV: Yeah, Pappy
DV: And stop drinking so much
SV: I'm-I'm ain't been doing so much drinking, Pappy
DV: Shut up, boy! You drink all day
and you drink all night
and you know, son, that that ain't right
SV: Oh Pappy, you just give me a chance. I, I can, I...
DV: Shut up, boy!
Boy, you're lookin' thin as a twig
SV: I know that...
DV: Look likes your dear old Pappy - about to blow your wig
SV: Oh I'm gonna blow my wig, Pappy
What's the use of getting sober
When you're gonna get drunk again
Oh Sam done something fine
When he bought that good whiskey, beer and wine
I love my whiskey and I love my gin
Every time you see me I'm in my sin
So what's the use of getting sober
When you're gonna get drunk again
DV: I went out last night about half past one
Thought I'd whoop it up a little and have some fun
I got me a half pint about half past two
Mmm, mmm, the way I was feeling you know what I wanna do
Got me a pint about half past four
Felt so good, went out and got me some more
Got me a quart about half past five
Boy, that was so nice didn't know if I was dead or alive
So what's the use of getting sober
If you're gonna get drunk again
Oh Sam done something fine
When he bought that good whiskey, beer and wine
I love my whiskey and I love my gin
Every time you see me I'm in my sin
So what's the use of getting sober
When you're gonna get drunk again
Well I've been thinking
But I keep drinking
I guess I'm 'bout lose my mind
(C) Leeds Music Ltd.
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friday Night Lights
14 to nothing,
Before the half
All the games, but one, have passed
Seasons ending early, due to injury
Compares nothing to the loss of a brotherhood; a family.
Friday night lights
So many dog-fights
In the end, we all sacrificed
To me football is a thing of the past
Just one more thing I wish would last
Stepping out on the field one last time,
Brings a tear to my eye
A half-hour past nine
Time to pack up, and head back home
Never again will I touch that end zone
The big hits are gone
No more players of the week
No more happy valleys
Or Thursdays to eat; before the game
No more fame
I’m proud to have played football for this team,
For that I’m not ashamed.
poem by Donnie Brush
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Don't Know Where The Past Is Gone
I don’t know where the past is gone
I only know most of my own life is over-
I don’t know where the past has gone
I only know so many people I loved
Are no longer here and will never be here again-
I don’t know where the past has gone
I only know that that chance I had that hope for so many years
Can never be mine in the same way again-
I don’t know where the past has gone
So many moments of beauty and love and opportunity missed and longing unrealized-
I don’t know where the past has gone
And what of it I should miss
And why I should long for it so.
I don’t know where the past has gone
And where my life was lost and why I did not do better in it-
I don’t know where the past has gone
And what will be when for me
Everything is only the Past gone
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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