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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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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Three Hours
Three hours from sundown
Jeremy flies
Hoping to keep
The sun from his eyes
East from the city
And down to the cave
In search of a master
In search of a slave.
Three hours from london
Jacomos free
Taking his woes
Down to the sea
In search of a lifetime
To tell when hes home
In search of a story
Thats never been known.
Three hours from speaking
Everyones flown
Not wanting to be
Seen on their own
Three hours is needed
To leave from them all
Three hours to wonder
And three hours to fall.
Three hours from sundown
Jeremy flies
Hoping to keep
The sun from his eyes
East from the city
And down to the cave
In search of a master
In search of a slave.
song performed by by Nick Drake
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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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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Four hours of makeup, and then an hour to take it off. It's tiring. I go in, I get picked up at two-thirty in the morning, I get there at three. I wait four hours, go through it, ready to work at seven, work all day long for twelve hours, and get it taken off for an hours, go home and go to sleep, and do the same thing again.
quote by Peter Sarsgaard
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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He spent hours and hours and hours practising these conjuring tricks. It's just such a curious thing.
quote by Simon Callow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be the best, you need to spend hours and hours and hours running, hitting the speed bag, lifting weights and focusing on training.
quote by Sugar Ray Leonard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work eight hours and sleep eight hours and make sure that they are not the same hours.
quote by T. Boone Pickens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Girdle Round The Earth - I Fly, Master!
Right now, there are near 5,000 visitors on this site.
Let's suppose
you spend 8 hours a day surfing the web
and 8 hours sleeping
and 8 hours doing stuff
that's, er,15,000 readers of one / lots of / poem(s) every suncircle.
And we thought Shakespeare's Puck and Ariel were fiction?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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.
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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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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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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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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Every Moment Felt Kept Precious
In these hours now,
With every moment felt kept precious.
I've become more sensitive to your needs.
With a satisfaction I am able to feed them.
In these hours now.
In these hours now,
With every moment felt kept precious.
Simple talks and quiet walks I welcome.
Leaving complexities and what they could be,
Left...
Alone.
Wanting us to be more honest with an openness.
Are wishes like this I am glad we witness and condone.
To know our love has never roamed.
And just as strong as steel and stone!
In these hours now!
And every moment felt kept precious...
In a respectfulness that has survived,
Through sour times.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Cat Still Wander Free
The Councillors of the Shire of Sherbrooke of late passed a decree
That in the hours of darkness no cat should wander free
That all cats be kept behind closed door during the hours of dark
And not be left to roam and prowl though woodland and through park.
Domestic cats a threat to nocturnal creatures the Shire legislators say
But cat a bigger threat to wildlife during the hours of day
In daylight hours domestic cat always prowling around
And stalking unsuspecting bird who search for food on ground
Before tackling a brush tail Possum a cat would think twice
He'd end up bruised and battered and that too much a price
He'd rather kill blackbird or robin or defenceless native mouse
Or little wren in garden beside his neighbour's house.
The Councillors of Sherbrooke have got the wrong idea
As cat does most damage by day or so 'twould seem to me
So between the hours of dawn and dark the cat still wander free
To stalk lyrebird who scrape on ground beside the forest tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Lonely Hours
Lonely hours
spent
watching the rain
like tears
on the window pane.
Lonely hours
wishing
you were here with me
as I gaze
over another cup of tea.
Lonely hours
spent
alone, crying
dying slowly
because you are gone.
1979
poem by Penni Currie
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2 Weeks
14 Days left
336 hours
Until the end of this chapter
The chapter of hell in my life
2 weeks until I leave
8 hours a day
8 hours of hell in this school
Dealing with ignorance driven by people
Pushing back judgmental walls
After all 8 years in this prison
All I have is 2 weeks,14 days,336 hours left inside this hellhole
Now I can’t figure out what to do
Skip graduation, or stand on the stage and face the music?
That answer has left me then came back
In just 2 week I’ll be gone never to set foot inside again
In just 14 days I’ll leave and never turn back
In just 336 hours, my face will be erased from this place
2 weeks until I graduate from 8th grade
Why now, it must end sooner
In just 2 months I’ll be in high school
2 weeks…
14 days… 336 hours…
The memory of me will be gone
poem by Marcellus Watts
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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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