I Hear The Sound Of Time
Often at midnight I wake up,
I hear the sound of time.
It showers from eternity,
The Clock tells with its chime.
I find me in utter darkness,
As only waking man,
The cranky voice of a bird,
Reminds I have short span.
As a haunted person I brood,
Over the bygone days.
Is my life a story which ends,
Without its last pages?
From where we come, to where we go,
Unknown is that notion.
With the flow of time we will reach,
Perhaps a big Ocean.
But all my tasks are halfway done,
I must leave a good mark.
The night makes me to feel the truth,
The clock reminds, lo, hark! !
poem by Nilakshi Das
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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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Everything Reminds Me Of Her
I never really had a problem because of leaving
But everything reminds me of her this evening
So if I seem a little out of it, sorry
But why should I lie?
Everything reminds me of her
The spin of the earth impaled a silhouette of the sun on the steeple
And I got to hear the same sermon all the time now from you people
Why are you staring into outer space, crying?
Just because you came across it, and lost it
Everything reminds me of her
Everything reminds me of her
Everything reminds me of her
song performed by by Elliott Smith
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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Leave Those Cranky People Alone
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
Leave those cranky people,
Seeking nothing but an evil.
You,
Just...
Leave those cranky people alone!
When you answer your telephone,
To stop a constant ringing.
Just leave those cranky people alone.
And all you hear is whining,
With a blues heard singing.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It pays to leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Don't condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to own it!
Leave those people alone.
Don't,
Condone it.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you try to even own it!
Leave those people alone.
When nothing but complaints,
Drop out of their mouths.
Just,
Leave those cranky people alone.
It is best to leave those cranky alone.
It pays to leave those cranky...
Alone.
Keep your mind freed from heating.
Leave those people alone.
Don't you dare accept their beating.
Leave those people alone.
When you feel a headache brewing,
And you don't know what to do.
Hey..
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
In the morning when the Sun comes,
Shining on you bright!
Don't you turn away to get it out of your sight,
No!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone.
Yes!
You've got to leave those cranky people alone.
Yes! Yes!
Leave those cranky people alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mother, Can you Hear Me! !
I woke up one morning at 3 o’clock at night
And I saw this light surrounding me
I went over to wake up my sister
To make sure that she too could see
I tried waking her up
But there was no reply
I went to my mother’s room
That was close by
Before I could wake her up
She was already awake at sight
Then I heard her say to my dad
“Let’s go and check if the children are alright”
As she walked past our room
I looked at her and said “mother, mother can u hear me? ”
But then I look aside on the person on my bed
I asked myself who that person could be
And then I looked closer…
That person on my bed sleeping silently was me!
I tried calling to my mother while she tried waking me up
I could see her tears running down like hard rain
I could see her thoughts overwhelmed with pain
And there I found out with a startling shock
I had died exactly at 3 O’clock.
poem by Marria Attar
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“Our Clock Of Midnight”(An Acrostic)
Our clock of midnight ticking around
Undiscovered love can hear the sound
Repressed desire lying underground
Certainly this rare love can never be found
Loneliness covers the dusk to adorn
Outcry from the dark quells the forlorn
Crying out for light in the name of the dark
Keeps the distance between fire and spark
Our clock of midnight still ticking around
For we are far away but we can be found
Miles apart yet our minds can be seen
In reality can we make a blue night green?
Don’t want this clock ever to stop ticking
Noiselessness into heart where it’s been sticking
Indissoluble feeling we can feel so deep
Glimmering hope in our souls we reap
Here we lay down in the midst of dream
The clock of our midnight is our time supreme.
poem by Munia Khan
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When I Look At The Rainbow
Lord when I look at the Rainbow you have placed in sky so
blue, it reminds me that all your promises are true
Your Rainbow reminds me that those who believe on you
are few, yet you have called us your little Ewe
Lord when I look at the Rainbow I see it's hue, it reminds
me that your love for us true
Your Rainbow in sky so blue, reminds me to keep praying
through
Lord when I look at the Rainbow it reminds me of your
promise to all of your creatures some of whom are of
different features
Your Rainbow and it's many colors reminds me that it
represents some whom are called colored
Lord when I look at your Rainbow and see how it's colors
are bright, it reminds me to do what is right
Your Rainbow I have never seen at night, this reminds me
to stay in the light
Lord when I look at your Rainbow it reminds me of your grief
because of our unbelief
Your Rainbow have no pot of gold, but your wonderful story
of love it has told
Lord when I Look at your Rainbow it reminds that you
promised to never again destroy the World with a flood
Your Rainbow to me is a sign of your love it represents
your Son's life Blood
poem by Vincent G. Mead
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New-Year's Eve
Good old days--dear old days
When my heart beat high and bold--
When the things of earth seemed full of life,
And the future a haze of gold!
Oh, merry was I that winter night,
And gleeful our little one's din,
And tender the grace of my darling's face
As we watched the new year in.
But a voice--a spectre's, that mocked at love--
Came out of the yonder hall;
'Tick-tock, tick-tock!' 't was the solemn clock
That ruefully croaked to all.
Yet what knew we of the griefs to be
In the year we longed to greet?
Love--love was the theme of the sweet, sweet dream
I fancied might never fleet!
But the spectre stood in that yonder gloom,
And these were the words it spake,
'Tick-tock, tick-tock'--and they seemed to mock
A heart about to break.
'T is new-year's eve, and again I watch
In the old familiar place,
And I'm thinking again of that old time when
I looked on a dear one's face.
Never a little one hugs my knee
And I hear no gleeful shout--
I am sitting alone by the old hearthstone,
Watching the old year out.
But I welcome the voice in yonder gloom
That solemnly calls to me:
'Tick-tock, tick-tock!'--for so the clock
Tells of a life to be;
'Tick-tock, tick-tock!'-'tis so the clock
Tells of eternity.
poem by Eugene Field
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Out of Time
My old clock used to tell the time
and subdivide diurnity;
but now its lost both hands and chime
and only tells eternity.
Time Has No Meaning
Time has no meaning
beyond the confines of death.
For when your life is over
and you've taken your last breath
only the interval that lay between
the then and now
is looked back in reflection
as you take your final bow.
Do you remember the exact time
of your birth on earth?
When you inhaled and made your entrance
and heard a ticking sound?
It was not the tick of the clock
that instantly brought you around.
It was the beat of your own sweet heart
in the body you were bound.
Can you identify the times of your life
that brought you insights new?
When it's time to pack it in
you may remember a few.
But the few were fleeting happenings
that drifted away into the blue.
The timelessness that's beyond this life
is the freedom we've been searching for.
All of our lives we pray for it
and are never really sure
where it is or if we'll ever reach it?
For life is so measured in time
that we wonder if it will all go away
as we hear the clock's last chime.
and so do not waste your thoughts
or worry about how time flies.
Because the timelessness that awaits us
is right beyond the skies.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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Clouds Of My Life
There moves the cloud
with the wind that blows
So bright and white
like the pages of my life…
I sit near the window
and watch those clouds
That shows me the way
my life is being shaped…
Never was I able to
see the clouds
Have the same shape
in every minute of my life…
Why does this happen
is what I think
But everyday is not the same
is what it says to me…
I see the winds
blow off the clouds
Which makes me think
when will my life be blown off? ...
It's hard to see
black clouds coming in between
Making my worst fears
strike into my mind…
It rains day and night
making me feel happy and sad
Happy to see the black clouds fading
but sad about losing the clouds…
Dreams of mine takes
shape in the clouds
Always showing me the face
of the person I like…
It always reminds me
my life is in world's hands
No matter how hard I try
can't change the fate of my life…
It's nice to see the clouds
every morning I wake up
This reminds me there is still a day
because I see the "Clouds of my Life"…
poem by Sowkoor Nischal Shetty
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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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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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Blue Wall / Green Wall
What comes to my mind when I see a green wall?
A green wall reminds me of the grass so green
And the emerald most rarely seen
A green wall reminds me of the leaves so green
And a forest where I have never been
A green wall reminds me of trees with a lot of shade
And the fresh vegetables kept for trade.
What comes to my mind when I see a blue wall?
It reminds me of the sea so blue
I feel like jumping in it too
A blue wall reminds me of the blue sky
You can’t touch it cause it’s very high
A blue wall reminds me of the deep blue bear
It is very dangerous so beware
A blue wall reminds me of a blue whale
To reach it from the shore you have to sail.
poem by Risha Ahmed
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Bitter End
Since were feeling so anesthetised
In our comfort zone
Reminds me of the second time
That I followed you home
Were running out of alibis
From the second of may
Reminds me of the summer time
On this winters day
See you at the bitter end
See you at the bitter end
Every step we take thats synchronized
Every broken bone
Reminds me of the second time
That I followed you home
You shower me with lullabies
As youre walking away
Reminds me that its killing time
On this fateful day
See you at the bitter end
See you at the bitter end
See you at the bitter end
See you at the bitter end
From the time we intercepted
Feels more like suicide...
See you at the bitter end
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nellie Lost and Found
Ten o'clock! the rain begins to fall,
And Nellie still from home!
Vainly now, her loving name we call,
Oh whither does she roam!
Can it be she wanders from the street,
Thro' the wood to find her lonely way,
Bless the child! I fear her little feet
Have carried her astray.
Wake the boys to search for Nellie!
Stay not for the dawn;
Who shall sleep when from the mother's fold
One little lamb is gone.
Eleven of o'clock! the little brothers wait,
Still hoping her return;
Peeping through the lattice of the gate,
Their darling to discern.
Weary now they turn them to the door,
While their tears, for lips that now are dumb,
Ask the question often asked before,
Oh mother will she come!
Twelve o'clock! and in the forest wild,
What terrors rule the hour!
Who can tell what foe surround the child,
Or shield her from their power.
Storm face and torrents to be cross'd,
Beasts of prey that in the darkness roam;
Would to God that only I were lost,
And Nellie safe at home!
One o'clock! methinks I hear a voice,
With tidings in its tone!
Does it bid this trembling heart rejoice,
Or sorrow makes it known.
Still I heard that midnight echo stirr'd,
Surely too, it bears a joyful sound;
Praise the Lord! a mother's pray'r is heard,
The darling one is found!
Through the wood the midnight echoes
Bear a joyful sound;
Praise the Lord! a mother's pray'r is heard,
The darling one is found.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Have I Told You?
Have I told you
that I hear the wind
whispering your name,
see your eyes in the sparkling stars?
Have I told you
that time and again
you sneak right into my dreams,
as if beaconing me to love you more?
Have I told you
that your voice lingers in my mind,
that I can feel your heart beating along with mine,
that sometimes I feel your breath on my cheek?
Have I told you
that since the day that we parted
every day something reminds me
of you, reminds me about true happiness?
poem by Gert Strydom
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I can not wait for two o’clock to come
I cannot wait for two o’clock to come
to climb on my motorbike
and to ride to the place
where the words of other poets
get life and energy
and bring bliss and burning beauty
and sometimes sincerity
or stark reality
as magic to me.
I cannot wait for two o’clock to come
to hear the words
of a master and to find something
in his thoughts that I can make mine,
as if it was buried in my soul
just waiting for the sun and rain
and interaction to sprout
growing green like a living thing.
I cannot wait for two o’clock to come
to read my own poetry
and to see what other
people make of it
and to know
if my words are truly
hitting their mark.
I cannot wait for two o’clock to come
and to experience something great
that makes life worth living
and perhaps for some time
to sit near the presence
of the Immortal One
that gives man the ability
to turn words into the magic
that life aught to be.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Hear
It is mid night knock and I hear
Lots of pain in body and me silently bear
No use to raise pain voice to bother members
As they are watching my end coming near
I slight open eyes and watch half consciously
The prayers and hymns are heard continuously
They believer that some last words may make my end peaceful
They are sobbing and watching at me with tears full
I had been with them for decades
Now time has come to bade
It is painful saga and stark reality
Helplessness to feel with remorse and pity
No one may say bad words at the back
As many things will be at stake
Someone may be claiming property and fortune
Others may be worried for good days gone
I have love each and everyone
Out side too and not at home alone
I see its impact today as death bell rings
Prayer is on with tears and they all sing
What a bond to feel at the time of heavenly journey!
Nothing accompanies not even relatives, friends or money
Only good will and well wishes at the time of departure
Wishing rest in peace and making it sure
I am half sunk and repeatedly opening eyes
They all lower their heads and desperately try
To hear gentle words if I ever I tried to speak
Strengthen their belief and not make them weak
Yes, it is midnight knock
And I hear heavy foot steps and sound of clock
Both arms have been struck at right 12 o'clock
I am closing eyes as if life is running out of stock
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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