Evans
Once a thief, always a thief!
Once a gangster, always a gangster;
And like working 16 hours to 18 hours a day to make a living,
But, are you very young and lovely?
There comes a time to enjoy! !
But, the winter night is with you;
And, i do enjoy my summer night in Afica!
For in the ghettoes, are the pathology of the Blackman.
maybe you do have the same problems over there in your land,
And like the wild animals in the jungles of Africa!
But, the door stands open and i need to enter in,
For, i can't just walk out of this life.
A walk through Jackson Park,
With my friend called Evans to lead the way;
But, i have to take care with my muse,
And like my health in the land of peace!
However, working 16 hours to 18 hours a day to make a living.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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Last Dance
Wake up! its a monday morning
No time left to say goodbye
Cant breathe and the lights are changing.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
Headlights, make it home by sundown
Feeling that the day is through
Return back to where you come from
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
You wake up in the mornin
And the suns comin up.
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And hours and hours and hours
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And you light up the stove
And the coffee cup, its hot.
And the orange juice is cold, cold, cold
Monday morning,
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
Its time to go,
Time to go to work.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
No, no, no.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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24 Hours
24 hours makes one day,
But this day is made up of the light and darkness!
The 12 hours of light is called 'day' and,
The 12 hours of darkness is called 'night';
So learn from this muse to be able to walk in th elight always! !
And many are the evil things being done in darkness.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Thief Of Time
Day changes to night without a whimper
Another day of time I can’t retrieve.
The thief of time blithely robbing the hours
From me, a felon that I never see.
I once had youth, my heart was young as spring
Where all life’s offerings were there for me.
But now the yoke that once connected things
Somehow became a distant memory.
Here I am in the autumn of my life
Clinging like a withered leaf on a tree
As the setting sun again turns to night
And the purloiner robs again from me.
How long must I suffer this living death?
Until the thief of time steals my last breath!
poem by Albert Ahearn
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The Time Thief
I feel the hours move too fast
and know that I can't make them last.
I do not cry for loss of them,
but the giver of time I do condemn
and cannot forgive how he takes away
every hour on every day.
I close my eyes to all of this
with the hope that he might miss
a few of the hours that belong to me.
But when I open my eyes I see
that those few hours are also gone
and I must face one more dawn.
And again my condemnation's here.
I cannot forgive this thief I fear.
He's stolen the sight of sunny skies.
He's stolen them right before my eyes.
He's fled with all the music I love.
He'll leave me nothing that I'm made of.
Forgive him? No, never I say.
Condemn him, yes and so I pray.
'Let him feel the loss like me.
Let him suffer the misery
of not enough hours to feel complete
and not enough time for his heart to beat.
Sentence him as he sentenced me.
Take away his hours so I can be
free.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Shorter Week
I worked for fifty hours a week,
And someone said to me,
'Don't be a serf! Throw off your chains,
And show the world you're free!'
So I cut down my working hours
And found, upon the whole,
The leisure time I had to spare
Good for my body's carking care,
And better for my soul.
I worked for forty hours a week,
And someone said to me,
'Release your bonds, you shackled slave!
Show all the world you're free!'
So I reduced my working hours
And found in leisured lull,
The more I sought to play, the more
Amusement had become a bore,
And life was rather dull.
I worked for twenty hours a week,
And someone said to me
'Awake, you mutt! Snap out of it,
And show the world you're free!'
So I cut out my working hours
And found that joy had flit.
Upon black melancholia's brink,
I sometimes used to sit and think
And sometimes merely sit.
I worked for not one hour a week,
And someone said to me,
'You lazy coot! Arise and shine!
You call this being free?'
So I resolved I'd better far
Rejoin the toiling mob.
But when I rose and looked around,
To my intense digust I found
Someone had pinched my job.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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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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The Lion II
I am the lion of Africa!
But, living in the jungle of peace;
I do spring out with my tail for many to follow,
However, i do speak tendering words with my lover.
The lion!
Life is guided by the muse of love;
And like where peace, unity and joy do live.
Sow on my land and enjoy the fruits of your labour! !
For, i am living in the jungle of love;
And, i want to care for you.
I am living in the jungle of peace with lot of visions,
In the very place of mystery!
But, with a secret journey to reach out to your heart;
For, i am the lion of Africa and,
I am ready to share my jungle with you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Queen Of The Hours
Queen of the hours lies waiting for the wind to blow away the veil of time
Slowly now the threads of age are starting to unwind
(chorus:)
Queen of the hours
Along, along, along the path of time, of time,
She is still
The clock shall tell the tale
When all is well, is well.
Black was the night that came in from the east and caused the land to sleep.
Riding on a storm, it carved a message in isabella creek.
(chorus)
Dawn is the death wish night has passed away, it left the sacred flower,
Opened up the grave and bowed its life unto the queen of hours.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Home In Your Arms
You take your coat off and throw it on the floor
Night delivers you to my arms once more
You feel so familiar as you get into bed
Cigarette smoke halo around you head
You lean over and kiss me so sweet...
I could lay with you like this for hours...
Hours and hours
Building a summer home in your arms
I kiss you with the languid adiration of slumber
Landin random as lotto numbers
One for each eye
And, oops, one on your nose
And ten for each of your cute little toes
You lean over and kiss me so sweet...
I could lay with you like this for hours...
Hours and hours...
Building a summer home in your arms
Am I crazy, do I talk too much?
Sometimes I think your silence is a crutch
Am I mad, are you married?
Oh jesus this love stuff can sure be scary
But so sweet... so sweet
Here in your arms
Im a bit of a mess and Im gone too much
But when Im away its you I long to touch
And certain things remind me its such a special treat
As these little things that bring you to me
You lean over and kiss me so sweet...
I could lay with you like this for hours...
Hours and hours...
Building a summer home in your arms
Im building a summer home in your arms
Im building a summer home in your arms
Im building a summer home in your arms
Built with all your charms
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thief In The Night
I could talk for hours but you wouldnt hear a word
Your own opinions make you blind
There will come a morning when the sand has all run out
There will be no time to change your mind
Like a thief in the night he will come
There will be nowhere left you can run to
You can fall with the night or you can rise
With the son
He will come in glory, a rider in the sky
The lion and the lamb rest side by side
Children of the kingdom, he will gather to himself
Children of the darkness he will leave behind
Like a thief in the night he will come
There will be nowhere left you can run to
You can fall with the night or you can rise
With the son
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Land Of The Living
i found myself
in another world
i found myself
alive and well
i am the vapor
i am the gas
you be the angel
of everything
this is the land of the living
this is the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
i lost myself
too wide a plane
i opened up
i'm not the same
i am electric
made of wire
you be the match
i'll be the fire
this is the land of the living
this is the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
the living
in myself i try for you
walk a thousand miles to get us through
airways
jet planes
safe landings
no branding
land
land
this is the land of the living
the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the land of survival
survival
land
land
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
the living
song performed by by Bush from Golden State
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The two hours onstage is great. But I can only play a show and then take a night off. I have to sing for two hours, and then I've gotta rest it for a night. So it's the other 46 hours that are just boring as heck.
Luck has nothing to do with it, because I have spent many, many hours, countless hours, on the court working for my one moment in time, not knowing when it would come.
quote by Serena Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black And White
Could be clear
Black and white
Make a decision
Got a need inside and I don't know why
It's a strong feeling that grows and grows
One day my life is out the door
Next day you show me what it's for
One day I think I know myself
Next day you leave me on the shelf
New moment
Goes like this
Never forbidden
There's nothing to stop
The thief of time
Stealing the hours that keep you away
It rushes through my veins
Straight to my head
My mind is a planet
For you to roam
This is only just the start
It's the beginning
In this house I call home
Living together
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's a shame that the only thing a man can do for eight hours a day is work. He can't eat for eight hours; he can't drink for eight hours; he can't make love for eight hours. The only thing a man can do for eight hours is work.
quote by William Faulkner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, especially now I come to realize - and then - I would do my schooling which was three hours with a tutor and right after that I would go to the recording studio and record, and I'd record for hours and hours until it's time to go to sleep.
quote by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Hours Continuing Long
HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,
Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented
spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands;
Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly
the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing miles
and miles, stifling plaintive cries;
Hours discouraged, distracted--for the one I cannot content myself
without, soon I saw him content himself without me;
Hours when I am forgotten, (O weeks and months are passing, but I
believe I am never to forget!)
Sullen and suffering hours! (I am ashamed--but it is useless--I am
what I am;)
Hours of my torment--I wonder if other men ever have the like, out of
the like feelings?
Is there even one other like me--distracted--his friend, his lover,
lost to him?
Is he too as I am now? Does he still rise in the morning, dejected,
thinking who is lost to him? and at night, awaking, think who
is lost?
Does he too harbor his friendship silent and endless? harbor his
anguish and passion? 10
Does some stray reminder, or the casual mention of a name, bring the
fit back upon him, taciturn and deprest?
Does he see himself reflected in me? In these hours, does he see the
face of his hours reflected?
poem by Walt Whitman
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