Naughty Claude
When Little Claude was naughty wunst
At dinner-time, an' said
He won't say '_Thank you_' to his Ma,
She maked him go to bed
An' stay two hours an' not git up,--
So when the clock struck Two,
Nen Claude says,--'Thank you, Mr. Clock,
I'm much obleeged to you!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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Related quotes
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

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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

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The Clock Struck 15 Hours Ago
And the clock struck fifteen hours ago; it is shining
And the man who is wasting on the wall
Looks a lot like Jesus
And a little bit resembling
the man in the mirror in the hall
And I rose-trayed sailors
And you still shining
And I'm till waiting to got
And I lied for sailors
And I lied for certain
And I lied to everyone I know
Oh I'd believe in God and I'd believe in loving
but I don't speak to anyone who knows
And I need four 50's and three yellow lemons
And someone to take me home
And I'd forgotten the one who was sailing
on the water down beside where you don't go
And it's strange to tell
that the one who is shining
is someone I forgot I used to know
And the clock struck fifteen hours ago
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene

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The Clock Struck Fifteen Hours Ago
And the clock struck fifteen hours ago; it is shining
And the man who is wasting on the wall
Looks a lot like Jesus
And a little bit resembling
The man in the mirror in the hall
And I rose-trayed sailors
And you still shining
And I'm still waiting not to go
And I lied for sailors
And I lied for certain
And I lied to everyone I know
I believe in God and I believe in loving
But I don't speak to anyone who knows
And I need four 50's and three yellow lemons
And someone to take me home
And I'd forgotten the one who is sailing
On the water beside where you don't go
And it's strange to tell that the one who is shining
Is someone I forgot I used to know
And the clock struck fifteen hours ago
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from B-Sides: Seasides & Freerides

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tick Tick Tick....!
Tick Tick Tick Tick,
Clock Ticks,
Lub dub Lub Dub heart beats,
Cycle of inhaling and exhaling
makes breath,
Pulses from unknown center has own lifetime,
keeps time for us, clock that set in
every cell schedules its life and
birth! Life is light trapped in atom,
excited electron has to fall back,
Just like life raises up and falls
back,
rhythm, wavelength and
frequency decide energy of light, local time may not match with
clock in other region,
Light travels covering space
does truly decide time?
You are the medium where light
is slowest, faster it is in different medium
and plane, Before the internal clock stops,
Sending warning alarm,
Alarm thyself, you are here not
only to know,
But also to the wish of the one
beyond light and clock, who can fix clock even in a light
photon,
can fix clock in everything,
Arise and awake before chime of
alarm,
No snooze is there in your clock, Never get yourself lost in
yawning,
No one can stay here.
when time is up!
Namaste and thank you all before
my clock ticks and buzz to say
time is up!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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The clock is clicking
The clock is clicking
It is clicking to show just then
A time span of one second
Has become the past
The clock is clicking
Each click means a step
Towards your progress and growth
Optimistic wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means a nail
Onto your coffin
Philosophical wisdom says
The clock is clicking
Each click means the arrival
Of a child in India
Population expert worries
The clock is clicking
Each click means the committal
Of a crime
Police personnel observes
The clock is clicking
Each click means a travel of 2.5 km
In space of the earth's surface
Astromer estimates
The clock is clicking
Each click means a change
In fortune of an individual
Astrologer announces
The clock is clicking
Each click means the admission
Of a heart patient
Health specialist heaves
The clock is clicking
Each click means the drain
Of my battery
The clock cries within
The clock is clicking
Let the clock be clicking
Let any one have his or her inkling
Let us be lively and kicking
Let nothing stop us becoming a king
The clock is clicking
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

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Grandpa's Clock
in that ticking of the clock
three generations of time
had ticked past...
with some tickings fixed firm
each ticking concealed
tireless roar of the sea
and a conundrum of emotions
time has its way of
teasing and tiring us
one fine evening during
a casual chitchat as sister
got off from the chair
she hit back at time and
the grandfather's clock-
though i had never known him
but through the clock fixed to the wall-
that seemed to chime
eternally into the wee hours
each time waking me up cruelly
from an innocent sleep
lay there in pieces...
the pendulum, still oscillates
the conundrum, still unsolved
the flux of the sea, still echoes
though we could never manage
to get another clock
and external surfaces
still gleam and glitter...
20dec2009
08.21hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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Hell’s State
Translate my sentence please in the middle of this hour,
Hours are ruder, for the clock has shuddered at times;
The clock is longer than most, more have striven than before,
Those in joyous occasions shall profit and prosper like milk.
The odd predicament enrages us, savage is the heinous beast
That devours time by the hours, like a grandfather clock of names.
My horrific life carries no charge of electricity but only fire
Of the reasons that smoke, smoke like fiery ash twisting and turning.
May God condemn the infirm beasts so solemnly swaying in time
With the music of death, the odd occasion of defeat that is Hell.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Clock O Clock of Times
Hours of the night in their deep
Sinuous on and always flowing
Fog bound rhythm speeding keep
Their onward footsteps going
Yesterday is now becoming new
In the rushes hours gnawing on
Clearance of the daybreaks thru
Till old shadow’s dance are gone
In the litter of their lost time
Everything moves forward still
Eve goes and morning‘s in prime
Every opportunity to fulfill
Clock o clock of times keeping
Rushing hours thru to make more
All old of dust down sweeping
Opening up the pluviose door
So much in the moldering way
Like the cadences of fog bound
Coming thru but no time to stay
All’s going in the merry-go-round
Feelings lost in pacing’s to break
As this roadway leads to its side
New thoughts in moving uptake
Is there now time for some abide?
poem by Peter S. Quinn

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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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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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Looking at the clock
If you watch a clock time goes slowly,
If you don’t watch a clock time goes fast.
There is an expression,
Time flies when you’re having fun,
-ignore it, it is fake! -
Time goes fast if you don’t look at the clock or
If you watch television or a DVD,
Time goes slow if,
You keep asking what time it is or
If you keep looking at the clock.
poem by Kayleigh Butler

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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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Me-Time Continuum
I watch the clock ticking out its time.
I hear the gears tocking 'till the chime…
I hold my stare acutely
And focus ears astutely.
The whole gestalt of this assault by me on clock
Collapses in to hence become
A new me-time continuum,
This clock and I a vacuum;
Dial and me, we've come to be
A synergistic, fatalistic victim,
Hmm…
When it ticks, I then tock:
I am me as well as clock.
When it tocks, I then tick.
We burn together down the wick
In candle wax, both cold and warm,
Together now in molten form.
We jump the side but soon to stall,
Only to solidify
Until the active plateau
Chases…
Down…
Sinking…
To melt again the bit that ran (us) –
All in a time storm
With timeless plan.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Ti me time time time time time time time time
Time time time time time
Time time time
Time time
Time time time
Time time time time time
Time time time time time time time time time
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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The hours of folly are measured by the clock; but of wisdom, no clock can measure.
quote by William Blake

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Elmer Brown
Awf'lest boy in this-here town
Er anywheres is Elmer Brown!
He'll mock you--yes, an' strangers, too,
An' make a face an' yell at you,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
Yes, an' wunst in School one day,
An' Teacher's lookin' wite that way,
He helt his slate, an' hide his head,
An' maked a face at _her_, an' said,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
An' sir! when Rosie Wheeler smile
One morning at him 'crosst the aisle,
He twist his face all up, an' black
His nose wiv ink, an' whisper back,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
Wunst when his Aunt's all dressed to call,
An' kiss him good-bye in the hall,
An' latch the gate an' start away,
He holler out to her an' say,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
An' when his Pa he read out loud
The speech he maked, an' feel so proud
It's in the paper--Elmer's Ma
She ketched him--wite behind his Pa,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
Nen when his Ma she slip an' take
Him in the other room an' shake
Him good! w'y, he don't care--no-_sir_!--
He ist look up an' laugh at her,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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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 Nurse's Watch
From 'The Boy's Wonderhorn'
The moon it shines,
My darling whines;
The clock strikes twelve:--God cheer
The sick both far and near.
God knoweth all;
Mousy nibbles in the wall;
The clock strikes one:--like day,
Dreams o'er thy pillow play.
The matin-bell
Wakes the nun in convent cell;
The clock strikes two:--they go
To choir in a row.
The wind it blows,
The cock he crows;
The clock strikes three:--the wagoner
In his straw bed begins to stir.
The steed he paws the floor,
Creaks the stable door;
The clock strikes four:--'tis plain
The coachman sifts his grain.
The swallow's laugh the still air shakes,
The sun awakes;
The clock strikes five:--the traveler must be gone,
He puts his stockings on.
The hen is clacking,
The ducks are quacking;
The clock strikes six:--awake, arise,
Thou lazy hag; come, ope thy eyes.
Quick to the baker's run;
The rolls are done;
The clock strikes seven:--
'Tis time the milk were in the oven.
Put in some butter, do,
And some fine sugar, too;
The clock strikes eight:--
Now bring my baby's porridge straight.
poem by Clemens Maria Brentano

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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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The Old School Clock
'Twas a quaint old clock with a quaint old face,
and great iron weights and chain.
It stopped when it liked, and before it struck
it creaked as if 'twere in pain.
It had seen many years, and it seemed to say,
'I'm one of the real old stock',
To the youthful fry, who with reverence looked
on the face of the old school clock.
What a terrible frown did the old clock wear
to the truant who timidly cast
An anxious eye on those merciless hands,
that for him had been moving too fast!
But its frown soon changed, for it loved to smile
on the thoughtless, noisy flock,
And it creaked and whirred, and struck with glee,
Did that genial, good humoured old clock.
Well, years had passed, and my mind was filled
with the world, its cares and ways,
When again I stood in that little school
where I passed my boyhood days.
My old friend was gone! And there hung a thing
that my sorrow seemed to mock,
As I gazed with a tear and a softened heart
at a new-fashioned Yankee clock.
'Tis the way of the world. Old friends pass away
and fresh faces arise in their stead.
But still 'mid the din and bustle of life
we cherish fond thoughts of the dead.
Yes, dearly those memories cling round my heart,
and bravely withstand Time's rude shock;
But not one is more dear or more hallowed to me
than the face of that old school clock.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly

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