The Date
Eight o’clock under the railway clock, she said.
I had bought flowers only because mother said
it was the right thing to do.
Nine o’clock, drizzle, flowers wet I felt daft, and
was hungry too. Threw flowers into a bin walked
to the restaurant; our table, still free. I had steak
with salad, potatoes and a bottle of red wine.
I had been stood up, but looked cool, I often go
out for a meal alone so what’s the big deal?
My date, Sandra, showed up at eleven and out of
breath, train delayed. Now the kitchen had closed,
but she got a bag of crisp.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Four Of Two
Underneath a big clock at the corner of 5th Avenue and 22nd Street
I stood and waiting for a girl I knew at the spot where we agreed to meet
It was four minutes of two
At four of two, I stood waiting for the girl
I was four minutes early for the date we had planned
I was planning to say I was in love with her
Just as soon as she showed for a two o'clock date
And the clock said four of two
At four of two, I was staring into space
She was not yet late, according to the clock
I was feeling nervous so I kept looking up
At the clock sticking out of the side of the building
And it still said four of two
At four of two, I began to feel tired
And I rubbed my eyes, and again I checked the time
It seemed as if the sky was growing dark...
But I felt reassured when I looked at the clock
And it still said four of two
I lay my head down on the sidewalk so in case she were coming I would have a better view
But no one was there so I stretched out and closed my eyes for a second or two
It was four minutes of two
At once I awoke to a futuristic world
There were flying cars and gigantic metal bugs
I'd grown a beard; it was long and white
But I knew that the girl would be coming very soon
For though everything had changed, there was still that clock
And it still said four of two
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Smelling The Flowers
(8/17/12)
Always looking at the clock, wondering about the hour
Never stopping to smell the flowers.
There was a time that life was at a slower pace
Now it seems we're always in a race.
The one thing that I know is that we don't
Spend enough time to watch our children grow.
I saw my marriage failing because I was
Too busy running around, as she looked at me
Without making a sound.
You can keep quite to a certain point in life
then she explodes, and it's not very nice.
The closeness that you knew seems to be
Fading away -and with you she doesn't want to stay
That is when you realize that your fires have to be rekindled
No ashes will you see - for this love will not be a faded love
In the books of history.
We then reaffirmed it in our minds
That this love would last for a very long time
And when our bodies became entwined
It was like sharing a bottle of wine.
We savored the juices as they flowed
For we had become connoisseurs
this much we know.
I started to smell the flowers as I did
In my younger years, as for losing my wife
I no longer have that fear.
SLOW DOWN AND SMELL THE FLOWERS!
poem by Louis Rams
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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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Sex In The Kitchen
Girl you're in the kitchen
Cooking me a meal
Something makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Strutting pass, switching that ass while I'm on the phone
Cutting up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doing the damn thang
I want
Sex in the kitchen over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed
How would you like it, baby
(How would you like that?)
Tell me right now pretty baby
Hey man, I'm gon call you back
Girl you're in the kitchen, chillin in your robe
I'm saying to myself she better go put on some clothes
Tickling and teasing
Doing that little dance
Girl, you gon make me lay you down and give it to you one mo 'gain
[Chorus 2x]
Girl I'm ready to toss your salad
While I'm making love, I'll be feasting
Girl you're in the kitchen
Sweating up a storm
The oven's on 500
So you know the kitchen's warm
Girl you know just how to get into a brother's mind
Cause here we are still in this kitchen
Doing it for the third time
[Chorus (fades out)]
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex In The Kitchen (remix)
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Cooking me a meal
Something makes me wanna come in there and get a feel
Walk around in your t-shirt
Nothing else on
Strutting past, switching that ass while I'm on the phone
Cutting up tomatoes, fruits and vegetables and potatoes
Girl, you look so sexy while you're doing the damn thang that
I want
Sex in the kitchen, over by the stove
Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls
Hands on the table, on your tippy toes
We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed
How would you like it, baby
(would you like that)
Tell me right now, pretty baby
Hey man, I'm gon' call you back
Girl, you're in the kitchen, chillin' in your robe
I'm saying to myself, "She better go put on some clothes"
Tickling and teasing, doing that little dance
Girl, you gon' make me lay you down
And give it to you one mo 'gain
[chorus 2x]
Girl, I'm ready to toss your salad
While I'm making love, I'll be feasting
Girl, you're in the kitchen
Sweating up a storm
The oven's on five hundred
So you know the kitchen's warm
Girl, you know just how to get into a brother's mind
Cause here we are still in this kitchen
Doing it for the third time
[chorus till fade]
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Busy...
you body clock
does not tell time,
busy body, slimy fingers,
trembling hands,
wrecking nerves
fast tracking heart,
exploding ideas
killing boredom
it's been this way
since
nothing is written
the spirit is away
the body is left here
comatose
dreams like butterflies
hovering on some red flowers
heartless sounds of
discontent
fingers dissociated from hands
the eyes are closing
like closed computers
at 8 o'clock in the morning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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 Last Dream...
'What has become of my life, ' he said
To the clock on the kitchen wall,
But the hands stood still at 20 to 4,
The clock didn't know at all!
He turned to the mirror that mocked him there
Each time that he walked on past,
And searched for a sign in the pits and lines
Of the stranger who peered from the glass.
'Where are the days of the youth I had
When I laughed and cried out loud?
Are they hidden away on a dark pathway
Where I walk with my shoulders bowed? '
'And where, oh where was the love I knew
As she tripped from the wishing well,
And the coins that we threw in the fountain there...'
- There are several kinds of hell!
The sand still spills from the hour glass
As he tries to find some meaning,
'Til he falls asleep by the mantelpiece
For the last dream, dreaming.
20 January 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Thief! !
Thief! !
I don't need any flowers from you!
For, i've got enough flowers in my garden.
A walk in Sapin,
Pain, chain, train, rain, drain, grain, Cain, main, stain train;
And there you will meet a lot of people ready to offer you free flowers!
But, do watch out! ! For they are pick pockets! ! !
And, in the process of offering you these flowers, another picks your purse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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Bring Me Flowers
Bring me flowers when I am living
Don't bring me them when I am dead
Let me enjoy them in the giving
My mother always had said.
Let me hold them in my hands
and smell there fragrant scent
Then I will reminisce of different lands
Before; I am heaven sent.
I will reflect back when I was young
Or I might think back not long ago
When I walked underneath the sun
Or when I felt the wind as it blowed.
Bring me flowers when I am here
Please don't wait until I am gone
So I might reflect to a different year
And my memories will last on.
I might reflect to a different time
With every breadth and scent I breath
And knowing the flowers are mine
Shows how much that you love me.
Let me enjoy the flowers again
Let me feel them on my fingers
Because I just don't know when,
And how long my memory will linger.
Bring me flowers with a smile
Please don't bring them with any sorrow
And I will hold them just like a child
As I held you, and held on till tomorrow.
I want to see them once again
As I place them on my table
And then they will be my friend
And I will greet them when I am able.
They will be a part of me
My mothers always had said
So bring them now to me please
And don't wait until I am dead.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Not a clock telling me the truth
oh clock
on and on
you go
belting out
the inaccuracies
universal inacurracies
on and on
you go
announcing
the minute second
you miss
at speed
of my thought
on and on you go
lambasting
a concept
no human
has yet fathom
able to escape from
a mystery
as great as
the whole universe
which too
circles on and on
confusing
the little universe
clock, clock, clock
everywhere
yet not one telling
me the truth
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Clock-O'-Clay
In the cowslip pips I lie,
Hidden from the buzzing fly,
While green grass beneath me lies,
Pearled with dew like fishes' eyes,
Here I lie, a clock-o'-clay,
Waiting for the time o' day.
While the forest quakes surprise,
And the wild wind sobs and sighs,
My home rocks as like to fall,
On its pillar green and tall;
When the pattering rain drives by
Clock-o'-clay keeps warm and dry.
Day by day and night by night,
All the week I hide from sight;
In the cowslip pips I lie,
In the rain still warm and dry;
Day and night and night and day,
Red, black-spotted clock-o'-clay.
My home shakes in wind and showers,
Pale green pillar topped with flowers,
Bending at the wild wind's breath,
Till I touch the grass beneath;
Here I live, lone clock-o'-clay,
Watching for the time of day.
poem by John Clare
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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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Flowers - Giving It All Away B-side
Renegades and shifting shades
And the lights in your face
And you friends talk lying
But some of them got flowers in their room
When its on and youre falling on every floor
That youre hoping to score
And youre every night ? ? ?
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
Hear the word that the man on the stairs
Knows your every affair and is holding your hand
And he says some of them got flowers in their room
And he screams in a face
But the smile on the face is cool and its cold
And it reads vacated
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And I take someone home and I cant be alone
And theres faces to please and I walk on the knees
Oh you see, I got no flowers in my room
And I laugh with my mouth and I laugh with you
But the joke was a joke that I never really knew
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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