Before Execution.
The sun is set, and all the stars are come,
Stars I shall no more see; the air is still,
And my life waits the ruin so near now.
A little space, and I shall have done here.
Ah, God! twelve hours, twelve little hours, and, lo!
The air and these lips part, day becomes night,
Earth nothing, time a skeleton, and I
An angry ghost, or a tired phantom laid
With many others in oblivion.
Twelve hours, twelve little hours, and I shall have
A wondrous change — feel one fierce pang, and then
Fade off I know not where, or like a star
Shot fearfully from the zenith singe my way
Through chaos haply for some aeons till
I reach another air, a lower sky,
And maybe with a baleful influence
Burn in Pluto's reign.
poem by Robert Crawford
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Related quotes
Identity Of Moment
At twelve of night philosopher thinks with a cup of tea
At twelve of night exuded in dream
At twelve of night cloud of blue sky burns
At twelve of night strip by strip waves fall to ground
At twelve of night full moon flashes of light
At twelve of night horn of car strikes on door
At twelve of night couple enters into dwell of love
At twelve of night loud cry of progenitors comes
At twelve of night machinegun of devilish roars
At twelve of night whistles of train strikes
At twelve of night the red sun of monument raises.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Four hours of makeup, and then an hour to take it off. It's tiring. I go in, I get picked up at two-thirty in the morning, I get there at three. I wait four hours, go through it, ready to work at seven, work all day long for twelve hours, and get it taken off for an hours, go home and go to sleep, and do the same thing again.
quote by Peter Sarsgaard
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Gipsies
Yet are they here the same unbroken knot
Of human Beings, in the self-same spot!
Men, women, children, yea the frame
Of the whole spectacle the same!
Only their fire seems bolder, yielding light,
Now deep and red, the colouring of night;
That on their Gipsy-faces falls,
Their bed of straw and blanket-walls.
--Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours are gone, while I
Have been a traveller under open sky,
Much witnessing of change and cheer,
Yet as I left I find them here!
The weary Sun betook himself to rest;--
Then issued Vesper from the fulgent west,
Outshining like a visible God
The glorious path in which he trod.
And now, ascending, after one dark hour
And one night's diminution of her power,
Behold the mighty Moon! this way
She looks as if at them--but they
Regard not her:--oh better wrong and strife
(By nature transient) than this torpid life;
Life which the very stars reprove
As on their silent tasks they move!
Yet, witness all that stirs in heaven or earth!
In scorn I speak not;--they are what their birth
And breeding suffer them to be;
Wild outcasts of society!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence.
quote by Erma Bombeck
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There is no human bliss equal to twelve hours of work with only six hours in which to do it.
quote by Anthony Trollope
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By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may get to be a boss and work twelve hours a day.
quote by Robert Frost
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By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may eventually get to be a boss and work twelve hours a day.
quote by Robert Frost
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By working faithfully eight hours a day you may eventually get to be boss and work twelve hours a day.
quote by Robert Frost
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One Rose
Rose
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each bruise
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you cheated
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you forced me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each pointless arguement
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each crime
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you try to end me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
How many more can I live through?
poem by Lexie Night
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We all lived in the same house, or most of us did. And as far as I can make out we were confined to the property, because at twenty-four hours' notice we'd have to do a gig somewhere. So you couldn't leave the building for more than twelve hours in case a gig came through.
quote by Bill Bruford
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Time And Life
I.
Time, thy name is sorrow, says the stricken
Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame
Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken,
Time, thy name.
Girt about with shadow, blind and lame,
Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken
Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame.
Eyes of hours whose paces halt or quicken
Read in bloodred lines of loss and blame,
Writ where cloud and darkness round it thicken,
Time, thy name.
II.
Nay, but rest is born of me for healing,
- So might haply time, with voice represt,
Speak: is grief the last gift of my dealing?
Nay, but rest.
All the world is wearied, east and west,
Tired with toil to watch the slow sun wheeling,
Twelve loud hours of life's laborious quest.
Eyes forspent with vigil, faint and reeling,
Find at last my comfort, and are blest,
Not with rapturous light of life's revealing -
Nay, but rest.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Twelve O'Clock
Mother, I do want to leave off my lessons now. I have been at my
book all the morning.
You say it is only twelve o'clock. Suppose it isn't any later;
can't you ever think it is afternoon when it is only twelve
o'clock?
I can easily imagine now that the sun has reached the edge of
that rice-field, and the old fisher-woman is gathering herbs for
her supper by the side of the pond.
I can just shut my eyes and think that the shadows are growing
darker under the madar tree, and the water in the pond looks shiny
black.
If twelve o'clock can come in the night, why can't the night
come when it is twelve o'clock?
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Lost Treasure
THE autumn day steals, pallid as a ghost,
Along these fields and man-forsaken ways;
And o'er the hedgerows bramble-knotted maze
The whitening locks of Old Man's Beard are tost.
Here, shrunk by centuries of fire and frost,
A crab tree stands where--lingering gossip says--
In ocean-moated England's golden days,
Great treasure, in a frolic, once was lost.
Here--fresh from fumes of some Falstaffian bout,
When famous champions, fired by many a bet,
Had drained huge bumpers while the stars would set--
Beneath its reeling branches by the way,
Till twice twelve hours of April bloom were out--
Locked in oblivion--Shakespeare lost a day.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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So when I was told to work, ten, twelve hours a day as an assistant pro, I didn't complain. It was normal.
quote by Bernhard Langer
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Time Confusion X 2 (Fun Poems)
Time Confusion One
The further west you go
Time goes backward as you know
So if I flew west around the world
Would I get back before my journey began?
Time Confusion Two
If I flew to a place,
that was seven hours behind.
Why would it take me twelve hours to get there?
And if I started back after landing.
Would I meet myself in between,
going as I was coming back?
poem by David Harris
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Most of the top actors and actresses may be working in ten or twelve films at the same time, so they will give one director two hours and maybe shoot in Bombay in the morning and Madras in the evening. It happens.
quote by Satyajit Ray
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I don't spend a lot of time thinking of what they'll do musically, I try to imagine being locked into a windowless room with this person for twelve hours at a time. If you can look at that and think it might be fun then maybe you've got the right musician.
quote by Leo Kottke
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Thankless Task.
Thankless Task.
Death never takes a holiday.
He has too long a waiting list.
He has to work twelve hours a day.
Because we humans will persist.
In fighting wars for no good cause.
We cannot learn to live in peace
We always think that sheer brute force
Will overcome our enemies..
It seems that we will never learn
violence begets violence
and hatred will hatred return
We seem bereft of moral sense.
When friendship can pay dividends.
Why human beings choose to fight
Make enemies instead of friends.
When they could do the opposite,
Death never takes a holiday.
Although really needs a rest..
He has to work twelve hours a day.
He has good reason to protest.
Perhaps when the last man dies.
Then death can take a holiday.
He will rejoice at our demise.
And who could blame him anyway.
Thursday,25 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I, John
(words & music by william j. gaither)
Oh well, i, john, he saw might numbers
A way up in the middle of the air
I, john he saw might numbers
Way in the middle of the air
Got to mighty move, john, you saw mighty numbers
Way up in the middle of the air
Well there were three gates in the east
And there were three gates in the west
Three gates in the north
Three gates in the south
And that makes twelve gates to the city all square wide
John, you saw might numbers way up in the middle of the air
Well john declared that he saw a man
He held twelve bright stars in his right hand
Well his eyes flashed fire like the burning sun
Old john got scared and he wanted to run
Well he wanted to run but his feet wouldnt go
Cause he felt the gospel cutting like a two-edged sword
And he heard a voice that said john, you take a look
And read what you see and then you write it in a book
And he saw twelve angels in the east
And there were twelve angels in the west
Twelve angels in the north,
Twelve angels in the south
Thats a total of forty-eight angels to the city, four squared wide
song performed by by Elvis Presley
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