Hourglass Sand
Through the hourglass
watching
grains of sand falling.
I see time slipping by.
To myself I wonder.
Do we pass with such ease
through the hourglass of life?
Like tiny grains of sand cascading?
When that sand has gone.
Does that mean time has stopped
until I turn the glass over?
And the sand again begins to fall.
Through our hourglass
as we pass like grains of sand.
How many frowns can we turn to smiles?
How much good can we make from bad?
When our sand has run out.
Has our time stopped as well?
Who will turn over our hourglass?
Restart our time renew our opportunities?
poem by Kurt Hearth

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The Hourglass
The Hourglass
By: Adam M. Snow
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
For time will soon cease and end in fear;
for they would come and disappear.
The hourglass falls at the end;
for there will be no one left to befriend.
When the last sand falls;
the writings will be shown on the walls.
The hourglass shown thy pain;
for the light will soon rain.
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
poem by Adam M. Snow

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Hour Glass Man
Make the grade and fail the class
take the test and do your best
watch you burn you life away
buried in the hourglass
you can open up your mind
everybody's teaching you
trying to tell you what to do
if you listen you will find
that you can open up your mind
you can open up your mind
and I just can't wait for another day
and I can't sleep cause I'm to afraid
and I don't know where I'm gawn end up next
the hourglass man
has gone away
the hourglass man he's in the sand he's in the sand yeah
the hourglass man is buried in the hourglass
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd from Abrasive

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hourglass
The sand flows through, marks grain by rain
the minutes which won’t come again.
Moments of pain, moments of pleasure.
They record with equal measure.
They mark them with a steady flow
the sand above drips down below.
Then when the final grain has dropped
It does not mean that time has stopped.
It’s time to turn the hour glass
so that the grains may freely pass.
From up above again below.
Time will not stop if they don’t flow.
But if it did how would you know
without the sand to tell you so.
8-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Variations On Nothing
That negligible bit of sand which slides
Without a sound and settles in the hourglass,
And the fleeting impressions on the fleshy-pink,
The perishable fleshy-pink, of a cloud...
Then a hand that turns over the hourglass,
The going back for flowing back, of sand,
The quiet silvering of a cloud
In the first few lead-gray seconds of dawn...
The hand in shadow turned the hourglass,
And the negligible bit of sand which slides
And is silent, is the only thing now heard,
And, being heard, doesn't vanish in the dark.
poem by Giuseppe Ungaretti

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My Glistening Dreams of Glass
My glistening glass dreams slip from my hands,
I see them fall in slow motion, heading toward their impending destruction.
They crumple as they meet the harsh, immovable reality that is a brilliant marble floor.
Dissolving in an array of colours and beautiful sounds, they look so much but amount to so little.
They shatter forever in my mind, with no one to pick up the pieces.
The hourglass shines as the grains of sand rush through the smallest gap,
Bursting through into a new realm of life.
But when each grain passes the gap, it does not for me mean some newfound freedom,
It just draws me one step closer to the final verse of my own tragic ballad.
But the sand keeps falling, when will it stop falling?
And as my glistening dreams of glass,
Slip again from weary fingers,
The songs begin to fade,
The colours turn to gray.
As the universe carries on, unaffected by my presence...
poem by Alex Duchovny

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GRAINS of SAND
Grains of sand
on which I stand
burn my feet
from the sun's intense heat.
I bury them quickly
to keep them cool.
The grains of sand
can be too cruel.
And now I know
I played the fool
for I left my sandals
where it was cool.
Afraid to move,
I see a child.
I call to him
as if I'm wild.
'My shoes, my shoes
please bring them here.'
He looks and waves,
then disappears.
And so I stay
and face the day
stuck in grains of sand.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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From The Void To Overjoyed
In the beginning the Lord created a great deep,
So deep that no eye saw anything but obscurity.
This deep we now by name call the heavens,
Accompanied by the creation of great vacancy
A formless void that is uninterrupted by shapes.
It is the undefinable foundation for that yet to form,
A place we now think of as the planet earth,
Which passed the tests of the primeval, perfect storm.
Now with this creation comes the beginning of time,
And for measurement a transparent hourglass,
With an exact amount of sand enclosed within,
Which has until this moment been at an impasse.
Not a grain has been able to pass the constriction,
Until the Creator has commanded it to go.
As the primal beauty comes into existence,
Change enacts sand to fall in the chamber below.
With the passage of time within the hourglass
The Lord’s creation enlarges and expands;
It becomes the abode for another creation
The harvest of the Lord’s desires becomes Man.
To Man the hourglass is a no longer fashionable,
And it may even seem to be ruling his day.
So he looks to the Lord for a savior
For someone who-win or lose-will want to play.
The solution from the LORD is Woman,
A helpmate fashioned of Man’s own bone.
His dream has become his reward,
And She seems even better than homegrown.
Her figure is the perfect hourglass,
And her countenance is a bonny display.
Plainly It seems Man never saw the lady coming,
Since his plain morning bird became his bird of prey.
poem by Albert Price

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Most of us think ourselves as standing wearily and helplessly at the center of a circle bristling with tasks, burdens, problems, annoyance, and responsibilities which are rushing in upon us. At every moment we have a dozen different things to do, a dozen problems to solve, a dozen strains to endure. We see ourselves as overdriven, overburdened, overtired. This is a common mental picture and it is totally false. No one of us, however crowded his life, has such an existence. What is the true picture of your life? Imagine that there is an hour glass on your desk. Connecting the bowl at the top with the bowl at the bottom is a tube so thin that only one grain of sand can pass through it at a time. That is the true picture of your life, even on a super busy day, The crowded hours come to you always one moment at a time. That is the only way they can come. The day may bring many tasks, many problems, strains, but invariably they come in single file. You want to gain emotional poise? Remember the hourglass, the grains of sand dropping one by one.
quote by James Gordon Gilkey

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Handy Hourglass
God waits in glory on His Throne,
The sands of time His slaves,
His Son the One who can atone
For each who misbehaves...
Though gradually the sand grains fall
Within God's hourglass,
His prophecies affect us all,
As each one comes to pass!
His special schedule offers grace
To those who would believe,
For holy healing can take place
In those who would receive...
And so He waits for Man to choose,
Eternal Life and more,
For both the Gentiles and the Jews,
Christ's Gospel can't ignore!
Each Christmas comes, each Christmas goes,
The grains of sand to change,
To snowflakes, thus each overflows,
To melt and rearrange...
The weeks and months and years roll by,
Then prophecies increase,
Upon the Earth, the sun, moon, sky,
Will wonders never cease?
Then suddenly the sands stay still,
While angels rally round,
As Christ now stands to serve God's will,
They hear the trumpet sound!
Then Heaven fills with saints galore,
When raptured in Christ's Name!
Then God's sands fall for evermore...
Man's destiny to claim...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale

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That Part Of A Whole
it is a tiny part
as tiny as a grain of sand
you hardly give it
attention
you keep on saying
what is in this grain of sand
that philosophers
say contain this universe
something so tiny
yet to contain everything
and so you hold the grain of sand
against the light
and revolve it around your fingers
little finger planets
to the sun grain of sand
you cannot believe what you
felt and saw
and so you throw away that grain
of sand to the air
eating it like a big mouthed monsters
you are lost
your world dissolves
like ice
you turn to air
and there you are
gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Sands Of Time
The trickling of sand has started now
for the moments we shall share.
There will not be enough time for us,
not enough time to spare.
Let's turn the hourglass over and over
so our time cannot run out.
For our love, my sweet is all that counts.
It's all I think about.
The sands of time one by one
are traveling much too fast.
How can we slow them down, my dear?
How can we make them last?
Yours is the heart that beats my life,
one beat at a time.
Yours is the mind that connects with me
one thought at a time.
And as we travel through our lives
those grainy sands still fall,
making me want to hang on tight
and stop them once and for all.
But life is movement and must go on
so take my hand and stay
close by my side through all our moments
as the sands of time fall away.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Vermillion Stone
The sinuousness of sand dunes
Wind abraded stone
The sun pinwheels
Cross the sky
One feels so all alone
Pictographs on canyon walls
Pottery shards and bone
Distant dancing dust devils
Muted howls and muttered moans
Ancient beds of dry lakes deep
Vermillion cliffs, wind hone
Canyon keeps, spirits sleep
In beds of petrified stone
Time locked tight in grains of sand
In manic tint and tone
Hourglass sifting centuries, and
Mesas flat, wind mown
One feels time locked
In vermillion rock
One feels the ageless sky
The stars, the wind
Without, within
Alone…as you and I
poem by David Whalen

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Pictures In The Sand
And Im gonna spend my time,
Drawing pictures in the sand for you.
And Im gonna ride the tide[? ],
And Im gonna make a rendezvous.
Sitting by the sea,
Sipping at my tea,
Drawing pictures in the sand,
And writing message to you.
Pictures in the sand (drawing pictures in the sand)
There is nothing I would rather do (there is nothing I would rather do)
Than just sit here in the sand (drawing pictures in the sand)
And think of thinks Id like to say to you (I love you true)
Every single day (every single day)
I waste my time away,
Drawing pictures in the sand,
And writing messages to you.
(all together)
Pictures in the sand. (drawing pictures in the sand)
Pictures in the sand.
If I didnt have a dime,
Would you still be loving me?
While I spend my whole life through,
Drawing pictures just for you.
But I could never draw my love,
Its so very hard to do.
Every single day,
I waste my time away,
Drawing pictures in the sand,
And writing messages to you.
Pictures in the sand. (drawing pictures in the sand)
Pictures in the sand. (do-bum, do-bum...)
Pictures in the sand. (drawing pictures in the sand)
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grains of Sand
Rolling in receding back
I watch the ocean’s waves.
Wondering what do they bring
or take away.
Reaching to my feet
some sand I scoop.
Through my fingers
those tiny grains flow.
Some so smooth
as if their journey long.
Others jagged sharp.
Had they not traveled far?
I muse to myself
What tales could they tell?
Relating their travels
carried by the seas.
if any what secrets
might they hide?
Tragedies triumphs
fair seas and foul.
Had they witnessed
great things and small?
As my mind wandered
imagination followed.
Again the waves roll in.
Now the sand is gone.
That sand I held
taken away.
Where will the seas
carry those grains?
On what other shores
will they a visit pay?
poem by Kurt Hearth

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Earthworm In An Hourglass
Don’t call me the seductive Sun,
That stretches out to burn every flower chosen,
Burning itself out, before darkness spreads her hair,
All its charms it has spun.
Don’t call me the stealthily staking Moon,
With her clouded memory reigns bright solitary,
In lunar milky glow her blemishes show,
Her imperfections enhance her beauty.
Don’t call me that denounced outcaste Star,
Seeking her beau, like a flash of forgotten dew,
Under the aegis of what gods from a universe afar
She diligently tries to reach out to you.
Don’t compare me to the passing spring,
That throws fleeting banquets on the run,
Lightning & thunder, to the rhythms of nature play encore,
Blossoms & butterflies in ruby panic of fleeting time cohere.
Don’t compare me to the wet rains,
When you come & go with each wistful moan,
What sobbing skies have the storms dreamed?
To rejuvenate the earth with desire of man.
Don’t compare me to the shady mists of pale autumn,
Falling leaves hailing hymns, frowning long night’s measure,
Bees grin of promises of spring unkept in wet kisses
Vista throws convulsions of color & flavor.
Don’t compare me to cuddly winter’s enduring grace,
Where every breath clouds up in weather so foul,
Strength of trees are tested, yet stripped they shall stand witness,
As I trudge to arrive at your call.
Don’t get down on your knees-
To call me your Sun, Moon & Star,
Like them we have war whooped Time & are not changed by it,
Though always looked up to, yet their distances are kept, on ground never their hushed foot fall,
Counting their sand grains, the hourglass has given up, a feeling to worship is born, .
In an anguish with no pause, they patiently await to rejoin their own..
Don’t compare me-
To the varied seasons-that are not so sweet to me,
They ceaselessly count the receding hours in the hourglass & don’t let me be.
Instead call me the EARTHWORM toiling in the dark calling your name,
An enduring truth binding us together, for a preordained journey down below,
When the thin sand doubts, I give my life’s hourglass a little shake,
Giving me wobbly knees, out the endearments like crystal stardust, flow,
Leaving the EARTHWORM with more sand at the top of the hourglass than at the bottom
And my time shall never run out! ! ! ! .
poem by Seema joglekar

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In The Palm Of Your Hand
In the palm of your hand
you hold my heart.
Cradle it gently, my love
so it will never fall apart.
In the palm of your hand
you hold my love.
Carress it tenderly forever
and always place it above
everything that you touch.
Hold my hand
in the palm of your hand
so that I may always feel
that the sifting grains of sand
in the hourglass of time
will never be able to steal
these precious moments away.
Let them be able to stay
always in the palm of your hand.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Judgment Day
We are but grains of sand in life’s hourglass
Plures inter plures waiting our turns
That slowly penetrates the narrowness
Of time ending all our worldly concerns.
The moment comes like a thief in the night:
Silently, stealthily, assuredly.
And in this sleep of death things are put right:
Our past dreams become bits of history:
Involuntary intervals of life
That had reflected our immortal souls
And there are never any two alike
Spirits on trial that will defend their roles.
In the end, though, we go our separate ways.
Some ascend while others will face the blaze.
poem by Albert Ahearn

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The Hourglass
The Sands of your time
Gently slide against your hourglass
Time is running out
Better make your life count
The hands of the clock
Always moving
The ticktock
Never ceasing
Each day is lost
You can never gain it back
Time is always continuing
Never frozen
Once that sand
Stops moving
Your gone
Gone until you
Begin again
poem by Autumn Winds

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Written In Sand
Your eyes are the color of the sea
You look my way and the waves
Wash over me
Your body shivers with the
Fading light
You say, baby, lets just make
It last tonight.
And when the morning comes
You take me by the hand
And say our love is written in sand
Written in sand
We hear the ocean roar
Were swept away on to some
Distant shore
You whisper secrets of the heart
They keep us close when the
World keeps us apart
Until tomorrow comes
Time is on our hands
Because this love is written in
Sand
Written in sand
Solo
Nothing lies between
A woman and a man
When their love is written in sand
When their love is written in sand
When their love is written in sand
song performed by by Santana

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The more sand has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.
quote by Niccolo Machiavelli

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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