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The Room of Clocks

On the mantelpiece is placed a clock,
Forcing a smell too plain, with an aftershock.

The clock demands a light so bright,
Time flows designing a living of delight.

This room has ornaments too beautiful,
A clock grows largely from the Most Merciful.

The time of change has arrived from Him,
The death of a room is lingering, like a pseudonym.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Lonely Room

Tiptoe around the room.
What is it that is found?
Silence, except for the clock that's ticking
nothing else is around.
An empty room with nothing in it,
only the clock that ticks the minute
in this lonely room.

Why was the clock left behind
with not a soul to tell the time?
It was on the mantelpiece
with nobody to hear it chime.
Was it left as a reminder?
I think it would have been kinder
to remove it from the room.

Left alone, it had no purpose.
Who could hear it now?
Ghosts from the past that once lived here
that have taken a vow
to listen to the clock's every minute
in the room with nothing in it
but the ghosts and the time.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Empty Room

The clock disserts on punctuation, syntax.
The clock's voice, thin and dry, asserts, repeats.
The clock insists: a lecturer demonstrating,
Loudly, with finger raised, when the class has gone.

But time flows through the room, light flows through the room
Like someone picking flowers, like someone whistling
Without a tune, like talk in front of a fire,
Like a woman knitting or a child snipping at paper.

Submitted by Stephen Fryer

poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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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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In My Room

I stand alone and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
And in the room locked up inside me
The cutout magazines remind me
I sit and wait alone in my room
And in my room against the wall
There is picture very small
A photograph I took some years ago
It shows a picture of the room I know
I sit and wait alone in my room
Chorus
The walls are white and in the night
The room is lit by electric light
I stand and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
The doors are shut and all the windows lock
The only sound is from the clock
I sit and wait alone in my room
Repeat chorus

song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Room

I stand alone and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
And in the room locked up inside me
The cutout magazines remind me
I sit and wait alone in my room
And in my room against the wall
There is picture very small
A photograph I took some years ago
It shows a picture of the room I know
I sit and wait alone in my room
Chorus
The walls are white and in the night
The room is lit by electric light
I stand and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
The doors are shut and all the windows lock
The only sound is from the clock
I sit and wait alone in my room
Repeat chorus

song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Safe In A Room

Theres no mistakes to be made anymore for you and her,
I sense you'r cold
Know that I'll always be there for you
And I no that I'll get this in your head
We'll Fight, We'll lie down on this field
Time will liberate us again (sunshine!)
Yer, now we'll talk in the grass, and I know that I'm..
Safe In Your room, theres no time
Yer the clock stopped years ago
Dear friend of mine, makes me laugh,
Yer the clock stopped years ago
Know That I'll always be there for you, I've known you so long,
I love you like a brother, I have to, So did i
I no that I'm
Safe In Your room, theres no time
Yer the clock stopped years ago
Dear friend of mine, makes me laugh,
But he almost made me cry
Don't ever do this, you can't never end it,
and I cannot watch you die
you are the best, of the rest,
And you're gonna go so far!!!
Theres no mistakes to be made anymore for you and her, her, her!!!
Know that I'll always be there for you!!!!
And I no that I'll get this in your head
Safe In Your room, theres no time
Yer the clock stopped years ago
Dear friend of mine, makes me laugh,
But he almost made me cry
Don't ever do that again, never ended, she's not worth it,
No I cannot watch you die
You are the rest, of the best,
And I love you always.
Safe in Your Room
Safe in Your Room
Safe in Your Room

song performed by by Inme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 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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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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And The Clock? /A Sat?

endlessly wide in my eyes
there beats the room and strikes the clock
out of my hands into the distances
cracked is the room-and the clock?

bezmjerno velika u mojim očima
otkucava soba i sat
iz mojih ruku u daljine puca soba-a sat?

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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Seven o'clock

When the clock strikes 7
i say to myself that time sure does flly
so fast that i don't even realize wahts going in my mind
i say why does time fly when the clock strikes 7
it dosent make sense because when i look up from my homework
i say it's 8 o'clock and my mom will be home soon
like my aunt use to say time fly so fast
that when i fall asleep its now morning and im starting a new day
wow time really does fly!

copyright 2009

poem by Nalaysia Cannonier
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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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Souls

It all started here, she was a girl form the midwest
He was a stranger in a strange land
Same old story
He came for the glory
She came looking for a young mans hand
But they found bright lights
And endless nights
And men just used her innocent ways
He found it all so pretty, hypnotized by the city
They lost sight of the reason
They lost count of the days
And they were two souls searching for each other
One spirit looking for the other
Caught between a hard hard place and a rock
Two souls searching for heaven
Rolling the dice looking for a seven
To the tick, tick, ticking of time
Gotta beat the clock
Too many nights on the ledge
He acquired a knife-edge
Still the city didnt acquiesce to his demands
Some nights she cried for pity in the heart of the city
The city smacked her hands
He met her one endless night
Her eyes had a light
There was something familiar about the smell of her skin
He held her tighter and tighter
As he danced inside her
She knew from the moment that she let him in
Theyd been two souls searching for each other
One spirit looking for the other
Caught between a hard hard place and a rock
Two souls searching for heaven
Rolling the dice looking for a seven
To the tick, tick, ticking of time
Gotta beat the clock
Beat the clock
Beat the clock
Beat the clock
Two souls searching for each other
One spirit looking for the other
Caught between a hard hard place and a rock
Two souls searching for heaven
Rolling the dice looking for a seven
To the tick, tick, ticking of time
Gotta beat the clock

song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Eight Minutes To One

In the early hours the radio alarm
went off at eight minutes to one
despite me setting it earlier for six
and checking that it was on.

Now wide awake I rechecked the setting;
and I had definitely made no mistake.
I put it down to an electrical malfunction
and fell asleep until it was time to wake.

I didn’t think any more about the alarm
and continued with my normal day.
The alarm was already set for six o’clock
so I went to bed in the usual way.

At eight minutes to one the alarm went off
exactly the same time as the previous night.
Again I checked on my alarm settings
and again everything was set right.

This time I unplugged the whole radio unit
and recalibrated the time and alarm.
I was now happy that all would be okay
and fell asleep relaxed and calm.

The following night I went to bed as usual
and slept until eight minutes to one.
The cursed radio alarm went off again,
so this radio’s days were done.

The next day I bought an electrical travel clock
and tried out the alarm there and then.
It worked like a charm and I was very pleased,
so that night I went to bed at ten.

At eight minutes to one the alarm went off again
and I could hardly believe this to be true.
I was faced with a problem that had to be sorted,
and a mechanical clock should do.

I bought a large brass, twin belled wind up clock;
set the alarm and several times tried it out.
That night I retired expecting a good night’s sleep,
with no electrics to care about.

At eight minutes to one the alarm went off,
and I threw the clock against the wall.
I was now convinced something supernatural
was causing the earlier morning call.

Over the next few days I tried several clocks
and the alarms went off the same.
In the end I didn’t have a clock in the room,
and I never will again.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Of sunrise, noon and sunset...! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

I don’t want the time to stop
Or long to turn back the clock.

Am happy just where am now
A bit wild, spirited and mellow.

Does it sound a bit contradictory?
No, no not to me; it’s satisfactory.

Life doesn’t come with a guidebook,
I humbly face the truth… look.

If given a chance to be young again
Chances are its going to be of no gain.

Why, I may again be silly and uncouth,
Sanity hijacked by arrogance of youth.

Eyes wander to grand father’s clock in room,
Its still tells time well; a prized family heirloom.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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