Related quotes: The clock... With loud sounds...

Suffocating

The clock...
With loud sounds
Of tick tocking
On shoulders burdened
And all exits closed!
Find barred windows
Once unseen
Trapped within cages
They never dreamed
Locked them
Without fresh air
Even resources the have
Can no longer buy!
So they are there...
Suffocating from a choice,
And time they chose to die!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Release From Locked Up Cages Aged

Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages...
Aged.

Release from locked up cages.

Come everyone...
Release from locked up cages.
Come under the Sun...
Release from locked up cages.
Come feel the breezes.
With fresh air to keep!
And make it yours,
In your mind.
Get more than you need.
And...
Release from locked up cages.
Shake off the rust.

Release from locked up cages.
What's there to lust?

Or trust.

Worthy of your cussing.

And...
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages...
Aged.

Release!
Be freed,
From locked up cages aged.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tick-Tock

Tick-tocking in my ear
My dollar clock I hear.
'Arise,' it seems to say:
'Behold another day
To grasp the golden key
Of Opportunity;
To turn the magic lock--
Tick-tock!

'Another day to gain
Some goal you sought in vain;
to sing a sweeter song,
Perchance to right a wrong;
To win a height unscaled
Where yesterday you failed;
To brave a battle shock--
Tick-tock!'

You measure out my breath,
Each beat one nearer death . . .
O God, grant unto me
A few more years to be,
That somehow I may prove
My loyalty and love:
Wind up this worn-out clock,
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock!

poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Automation

Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
steal lady of the night.
She sits alone while birdies flock
to bid her a goodnight.

Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
the world's automated
and the lady in a metal cloak
will live alone, unaided.

Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
her hard drive stirs again
and while I type this poem,
so dies my mighty pen.

Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
so true, so true the fear
that life as we once knew it
has slowly disappeared.

Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock
we victims of our time.
The last bird flies above us
while all of nature dies.

poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lived In a Way That I Like

I am tired of providing someone else,
Entertainment.
Or become the subject of someone else's convenience.
There are those who react as if appalled...
If the hands on a clock does not stop for them!
And I am not loaning any tick tocking done in my behalf,
To anyone to prove a thing.

I've played both roles in a yesterday that has gone.
You know...
The Master of Ceremony with touches of comedy,
For someone momentarily bent out of shape.
And even though some may fine my lack of interest,
Offensive.
I've learned to walk away from that kind of mind play.

This is 'my' life!
And it will be lived in a way that I like!
Or...
Moved in a direction made without hesitation.
I am not loaning any tick tocking done in my behalf,
To anyone to prove a thing.
When lessons are learned it is best to use them.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tickity Tick Tock

can't sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
tick tock
tick tock
tickity tick
tock
tock
tock
the little hand drills a hole into my tired mind.
can't
tick
don't
tock
won't
tick
shan't
tock
never
tick
nev er
tock
never sleep
the clock keeps ticking
as my mind struggles to keep up
too many ticks.
too many tocks.
the clock's too loud
it echos through the silent night
too many thoughts
all at once
i need them on paper
scribble
tick
scribble
tock
that fucking clock
it never fucking stops
i cant fucking sleep.
a dog barks
tick
a car screeches
tock
a horse neighs...what?
i can't be that tired
i can't be hallucinating
i
can't
sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.

i need a digital clock

poem by Elsa Bear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleading For More Time

I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
And I don't want to be the one,
Pleading for more time.
And I don't want to be the one,
With a trying of time to find...
When it's gone!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cuckoo Clock

We knew it must have been late
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We had no time to wait
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I went to light the fireplace
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I planned it all this way, and
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I snuggled close to her
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Her heart began to purr
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I held my breath inside, and then
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I put my arms around her
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I put that birdie away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
His cuckoo was gone to stay
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We both apologized for why
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Forgave that doggone cuckoo
I went back to her side
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I had to swallow my pride
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
The fire had almost died away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just got situated
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I took that clock apart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I broke the cuckoos heart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Hell never bother us again
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just forgot about him
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Insomnia

this is a private affair
between her and her wall clock

there is this consistent rhythm
of the tick tock tick tock

her pupils roll and sometimes
still
staring at the walls of the house

restless she avails of all the possible
combination of postures

but to no avail
the clock keeps on ticking and ticking and ticking

she feels like a tick
and she cannot talk

this is her private affair with her wall clock
above her head
her mouth is closed shaped like
a lamppost
without a light.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clockwork Creep

Im a clockwork creep
And I cant get to sleep
They wind me up and let me go
And I cant unwind
Going out of my mind
My time is coming soon you know
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Im a jumbo jet
With a brand new set
Of passengers and bags and crew
Ill spread my wings -
Do a thousand things
To prove how good I am to you
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Meanwhile in the cargo of escargot
The temperature is rising
Advertising that our time is running
Down, down, down, down, down
Oh with just one minute to live
Oh, no youll never get me up in one of these again
'cos what goes up must come
Down, down, down, down, down
Down, down, down, down, down
Oh, the gravity of the situation
Its only my willpower
That keeps this thing in operation
But were gonna crash thats for certain
The pilot is too busy flirtin
And he aint aware
That theres a bomb down there
And if he dont do something its curtains
Now just hold on,
Said the little bomb,
If you were just to hold my hands
Then time would stop
The plot would flop
And jumbo would be safe to land
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
My landings are the envy
Of sabena and pan am
From chattanooga to japan
I taxi through the airways -
What a swell little plane
What a fine little plane
What a great little plane
I am
Hang on one sec
Im a clockwork wreck
And though my fuse is burning slow
Must keep my date to detonate
Goodbye, ta ta, and cheerio
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a tick a time bomb
Tick a.........

song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clock

The clock, it tells a story-
One look at its tired face-
And a glimpse of both of its hands-
Why those seconds, just simply race...

Tick tocking its continued sounds-
Reminding us that time simply flies-
No it does not sprout feathered wings-
Nor take to the azure-blue skies...

But it moves nonetheless-
And with each day that passes away-
We are another day older-
And out of our youth-filled May...

Out of our heated July...
Rapidly, the clock, it simply ticks away-
Out of the falling leaves of our October-
Into Decembers white-ice chilled days...

'Tempus fugit', all we old timers cry-
Where oh where did all of our minutes go?
Just look at the clocks tired old face-
And its worn hands and you will surely know...

Dedicated To: G.A.C., Phillip, Joe, Bub, Lugh,
Zeike, and Pete.

poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grand-Father's Clock

My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire --
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place -- not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

It rang an alarm in the dead of the night --
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight --
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sequel to Grandfather's Clock

Once again have I roamed thro' the old-fashioned house,
Where my grandfather spent his ninety years.
There are strangers in charge, and the change they have wrought--
Oh! it saddens me, even to tears.
Dear old clock! when they found you were speechless from grief,
Then they went and swapped you off, case and all.
For that vain, stuck-up thing
(tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick),
For that vain, stuck-up thing on the wall.

Grandfather sleeps in his grave;
Strange steps resound in the hall!
And there's that vain, stuck-up thing
(tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick),
There's that vain, stuck-up thing on the wall.

While we talked of the old clock they all ran it down.
Tho' they claimed that it couldn't be made to run.
It was useless they said-- it was quite out of style;
Built, no doubt, just about the year One.
And the words echoed round, with a faint, mocking sound,
As if some one gave assent to it all;
'Twas that vain, stuck-up thing
(tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick),
'Twas that vain, stuck-up thing on the wall.

From the clock-peddler's cart in the junk-shop it went,
Where its cog-wheels were sundered one be one;
And the brass-founder joked as they writhed in the flames--
"Melt'em up," says he; "then they will run."
There is grief in my heart, there are tears in my eyes.
Yet indignantly the sight I recall
Of that vain, stuck-up thing
(tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick),
For that vain, stuck-up thing on the wall.

"An extremely hard case!" said the junk-dealer's wife,
As she carried it for kindling wood and sighed--
That mahogany case, with its quaint, figured face,
Which so long was my grandfather's pride.
"There is hope for the small; there's a change for us all;
For the mighty ones of Time, they must fall!"
Says that vain, stuck-up thing
(tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick),
Says that vain, stuck-up thing on the wall.

poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Basic Decisions

So pitiful have become those choice allegiances.
The ones some chose to bond with years ago,
With a professed loyalty overestimated...
That anyone conscious would have let go.

Today it seems a waste of time,
To discuss how things 'use' to be...
With a locked frame of mind on times much changed.

Even those who had obtained good jobs,
Believing themselves to arrive at some stability...
To find their investments to retire on a beach,
Pulled away from their realities they no longer can speak.

Today it seems a waste of time,
To discuss how things 'use' to be...
With a locked frame of mind on times much changed.

So pitiful have become those choice allegiances.
The ones some chose to bond with years ago,
With a professed loyalty overestimated...
That anyone conscious would have let go.

But who knew those dismissed from such cliques,
Would one day discover themselves to be...
The bigger winners living on fixed incomes.
But feeling happier from basic decisions they have made.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'd made my choice

What the hell is it with you?
I had made my choice to go.
And once again you saved me.
I wanted to die.
To bring a means to an end.

I just want to die.
Why can't you see its for the best?
Just let me go.
If I am dead.
You will no longer be burdened.

I've now made my choice.
I am about to try again soon.
If you should find me,
Don't save let me go.
For this is the choice I have made.

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From the Top to the Bottom

From the top to the bottom,
There were those who chose to stop...
Actions they believe were made,
By those who went against the grade.
No matter if that grade,
Had been all about 'shade'.

From the top to the bottom,
There were those who were just rotten.
With nothing on their minds,
But themselves all the time.
And believing they had power...
To stop tick tocking from a hanging clock.

From the top to the bottom,
There were gobblers who loved robbing...
Anything they thought had meaning,
And to smear it with their scheming.
With no scruples in their 'noggin'.
And sipping on mischief like it was eggnog.

From the top to the bottom,
There were crooks and there were snobs...
With their noses in the air!
But no empathy is shown to come,
From anywhere.
Now find their lives blocked,
And going no where.

From the top to the bottom,
They are slipping off roofs...
Into muddy ruts.
With no boots or shoes,
And on their butts out of luck...
Singing the blues!

From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!
From the top to the bottom,
Slickers sliding in slop!
From the top to the bottom,
And it's done nonstop!

From the top to the bottom,
Now the bottom's got 'em shocked!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many Disrespecting Students

What lesson did you teach?
That kept concealed your weaknesses.
A student of 'life'?
This you are not!
Not if you preceive,
There is benefit to imposed limitations!
Maybe this is your goal and purpose?
Who knows?

But this experience called life,
You attempt to start to control.
Is not of your creation!
I know this is devastating news.
It's true.
It is not!

Although you believe,
You've been given the power to begin...
And stop the tick tocking of a clock!

The realms and dimensions,
Upon which we exist.
Are too magnificent for you to fathom.
From your limited insights...
You wish,
The Universe upon your shoulders sit.
As others are 'alllowed' by you to visit.

But it doesn't!
Nor will it ever.
Further come to burden your load.

Since upon us all,
There is a higher consciousness.
And 'you' fortunately...
Have nothing to do with it!
But learn.
Like the many disrespecting students.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Empty False Praising

Methods used to create new enemies,
All but seem increasingly less effective...
These days of fading hollow gestures.

Even traditionalists once quick,
To defend their self righteousness...
Are re-evaluating their positions.
Mostly based upon myth and superstitions.

The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!

More are more willing to switch beliefs,
Than to fight against...
Those conformists frozen and locked,
In mindsets of deceit.

The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!

Methods used to create new enemies,
All but seem increasingly less effective...
These days of fading hollow gestures.

Even traditionalists once quick,
To defend their self righteousness...
Are re-evaluating their positions.
Mostly based upon myth and superstitions.

The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Suffocating

Related quotes

Release From Locked Up Cages Aged

Tick-Tock

Tick Tick Tick....!

Automation

Me-Time Continuum

Lived In a Way That I Like

Tickity Tick Tock

Pleading For More Time

Cuckoo Clock

Me Against the Clock

Her Insomnia

Clockwork Creep

Clock

Grand-Father's Clock

Sequel to Grandfather's Clock

Basic Decisions

I'd made my choice

From the Top to the Bottom

Many Disrespecting Students

Empty False Praising

En.Citatepedia^®.ro