different time
departure clocks
on the boats
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Burning The Boats
The government have announced
That london bridge is to be closed
Under the full moon of may the third
All the light houses and seaside roads
No I never heard I never read in the news
Come on tell me, whos this for ?
Lighting the questions and
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one by
Tap, tap, tap, birds that sing,
Telephone calls that do not ring,
One, two, three, whats the time ?
Whos that hanging off my line ?
I know that nothing lasts for ever
And Im just waiting for the sun to set
Blowing dust from my loud hailer, on the roof.
Come on tell me, whos this for ?
Lighting the questions and
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one by
The ministry of co-operation
Are washed and hanging on the line
Theres a million burning questions
To set the thames alight
Now Ive joined an exclusive club
Just by being more than poor
I saw the deputy chairman, on the floor.
Come on tell me, whos this for ?
Lighting the questions and
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one by
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trains And Boats And Planes
Trains and boats and planes are passing by
They mean a trip to Paris or Rome
To someone else but not for me
The trains and boats and planes
Took you away, away from me
We were so in love, and high above
We had a star to wish upon. Wish
And dreams come true, but not for me
The trains and boats and planes
Took you away, away from me
You are from another part of the world
You had to go back a while and then
You said you soon would return again
I'm waiting here like I promised to
I'm waiting here but where are you?
Trains and boats and planes took you a way
But every time I see them I pray
And if my prayers can cross the sea
The trains and the boats and planes
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Near the Black Forest
Living in a house
near the Black Forest,
without any clocks,
she's begun
to listen to the walls.
Her neighbors have clocks,
not one
but twenty clocks apiece.
Sometimes
a claque of clocks
applauds
the passing of each day.
Listen to the walls
& wind your watch.
Poor love, poor love,
have they caught you
by the pendulum?
Do they think they've
got you stopped?
Have you
already gathered how,
living near the Black Forest,
she gets by
on cups of borrowed time?
poem by Erica Jong
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Hearts are like clocks
Hearts work like clocks
Ticking and tocking
Turning and spinning
Hearts work like clocks
Fragile
Gentle
Hearts work like clocks
Some are broken
Some are fixed
Hearts are like clocks
Every one has been broken
Everyone has been fixed
Hearts are like clocks
They are all bonded by something
And
Someone
poem by Joelstine Gonzaga
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The departure lounge.
Many times,
I have been near the departure lounge.
Never knew the how or why.
Only too near tears to cry.
Time to leave.
Cliches on your sleeve.
Ready to be 'sold'.
Like cards up, an armful ready.
The departure lounge.
What is this place?
The only sensible option!
Many times,
I could have gone
Rather than see and play out-
Bitter endings.
The departure lounge!
A better place to be looking at
From a comfortable view
Than actually arrive at.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Second thoughts for MY Lady Irene
To time my lady’s attitude,
that she, not clocks is in control
She makes it clearly understood
that she considers on the whole.
That time is only relative
to what she wants or needs to do.
She’s most unlikely to forgive.
anyone who thinks she ought to
be ruled by clocks like other folk.
Content to hurry up and wait
she treats the whole thing as a joke.
When circumstances make her late.
She sees no need to fume and fuss
and those who do as ludicrous.
28-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Second thoughts for MY Lady Irene
To time my lady’s attitude,
that she, not clocks is in control
She makes it clearly understood
that she considers on the whole.
That time is only relative
to what she wants or needs to do.
She’s most unlikely to forgive.
anyone who thinks she ought to
be ruled by clocks like other folk.
Content to hurry up and wait
she treats the whole thing as a joke.
When circumstances make her late.
She sees no need to fume and fuss
and those who do as ludicrous.
28-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The City Clocks
THE City clocks point out the hours
They look like moons on their darkened towers-
And I who was shown my destination
Thrice, but have no sense of location,
Am back again at one or the other
Looming clocks that have changed the figure.
Moments a thousand have hurried over,
And the sought place is as far as ever.
The City clocks point out the hours
They look like moons on their darkened towers;
That Time and Place are a tangled skein
Their mingled strokes say over again.
poem by Padraic Colum
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When I Woke
When I woke, the town spoke.
Birds and clocks and cross bells
Dinned aside the coiling crowd,
The reptile profligates in a flame,
Spoilers and pokers of sleep,
The next-door sea dispelled
Frogs and satans and woman-luck,
While a man outside with a billhook,
Up to his head in his blood,
Cutting the morning off,
The warm-veined double of Time
And his scarving beard from a book,
Slashed down the last snake as though
It were a wand or subtle bough,
Its tongue peeled in the wrap of a leaf.
Every morning I make,
God in bed, good and bad,
After a water-face walk,
The death-stagged scatter-breath
Mammoth and sparrowfall
Everybody's earth.
Where birds ride like leaves and boats like ducks
I heard, this morning, waking,
Crossly out of the town noises
A voice in the erected air,
No prophet-progeny of mine,
Cry my sea town was breaking.
No Time, spoke the clocks, no God, rang the bells,
I drew the white sheet over the islands
And the coins on my eyelids sang like shells.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Time To Turn Back The Clocks
Time to turn back the clocks,
wishing I was twenty six,
and we where young again,
can't change time,
it is liner but one might wish it not to be,
twenty two or twenty six,
now looking at the pick up game,
going for the for the full deck soon,
one year shy of the change,
burn the ace of spades,
not ready for the grave,
time to turn back the clocks.
poem by Walter C. Edwards
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Then, there was Greenpeace, I remember that when they first started out with the boats in the waters, and the guys in the boats between the whales and the boats that will hunting the whales with spear guns.
quote by Rick Danko
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concealing That Nocturnal Existence....
you realize that there is nothing that you keep
or can
at night a stranger of the house talks about
a departure
you listen as he is putting music to his flute
it is a sad one
it is like the sonorous sound of the rain at night
it is windy
the departure shall be early before the sun comes up
you never sleep
anticipating the excitement of the departure
there are only two of you
before the sun comes up between the two hills
both of you have already dissolve in the distance
blend with the trees, walk on grasses,
there are no traces, the two of you never exist
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Like That Idea
i like the idea of what boats are meant for
i told you once
boats are meant to sail
far to the sea
and dissolve in the horizon
till they are gone
till they sink
to the bottom of the sea
and kiss its floor
and become the
permanent ornaments
of the corrals and sands
but i like your idea too
of boats
like mine sailing to the farthest sea
of boats like yours
that come back and embrace again
the welcoming arms
of the ports and the shores
and hear the sounds
of men and women
and children
all rejoicing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fisher's Widow
The boats go out and the boats come in
Under the wintry sky;
And the rain and foam are white in the wind,
And the white gulls cry.
She sees the sea when the wind is wild
Swept by a windy rain;
And her heart's a-weary of sea and land
As the long days wane.
She sees the torn sails fly in the foam,
Broad on the sky-line gray;
And the boats go out and the boats come in,
But there's one away.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Conventional people are roused to fury by departure from convention, largely because they regard such departure as a criticism of themselves.
quote by Bertrand Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fishing boats
In the late afternoon
fishing boats come out of the waves
and like ministers
tiller men stand behind white pulpits.
Boats jump
over the last waves to the quay
and are drawn with cables
onto trailers,
before pickups and cars
drive into the parking lot
pulling motorboats.
There are red roman, snook
and cod
and fresh fish are everywhere in the boats.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Paper Boats
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.
I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and
know who I am.
I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and
hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land
in the night.
I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the
little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.
I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down
the air to race with my boats!
When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my
paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.
The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins
their baskets full of dreams.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Three Boats Down From The Candy
(lyrics: derek dick)
Three boats down from the candy, vacant deckchairs on a floodlit beach
Three boats down from the candy, rollers coast invade the deepest sleep
Three boats down from the candy, carnal dancer let their senses preach
Its a social disease, its the new moral cancer
Dont think crying wolf will give you the answer
You ask for my love on the strength of a kiss
But cant you just play for experience?
Im a poet, Im a poet, Im a minstrel, Im a minstrel
I dont need your chains
Romance lies in ruin let debauchery reign, let it rain
Wipe the tears from your eyes, wipe the sweat from your thighs
Dont crawl to me with sentiment, my laughter drowns your cries
Youre a memory trapped on polaroid, a puppet drawn on celluloid
So drink the wine, confess your sin, just flotsam in a silent void
Three boats down from the candy
Ill remember you
Three boats down from the candy, much to much to lose
Three boats down from the candy, those words were never true
Three boats down from the candy
Ill remember you
Ill remember you
Ill remember you
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enough Said
“Votes for women! ”
Was the cry.
Reaching upward,
To the sky.
Crashing glass,
And flashing eye-
“Votes for women! ”
Was the cry.
“Boats for women! ”
Was the cry.
When the men
Were come to die.
When the end
Was drawing nigh
“Boats for women! ”
Was the cry.
Life has many
Little tests.
Insignificant
As jests.
Doubt and bitterness
Assail.
But “boats for women! ”
Tells the tale.
poem by Jeremy Eddy
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The Wasted Landing - thoughts from an airport strike
In the hour of our departure O Lord
In our beginning is our end
To depart is to arrive yet not to arrive
at the same hour and place
in some other time zone
and in our departing is our arrival
and to arrive is to depart from where we have not been
and to depart is to arrive at where we will not go
into the departure hall from where we did not depart
into the arrival hall where we did not arrive
and the end of all our departures is our arrival
that we may arrive at where we did not go
and depart from where we have not been.
now and in the hour of our departure O Lord
I Tiresias have foresuffered all
on this self-same divan, or tired banquette
in the departure hall from where we have not gone,
in the arrival hall where we have not arrived,
and all our arrivings are departures
and all our departures are arrivings
departing from where we have not been,
arriving at where we will not go
the sun shines bleakly through the window panes.
into the planes the trim staff come and go,
laundered into skies we cannot breathe.
'All flights are cancelled';
'Sorry Sir, this ticket is not valid for this flight'.
I Icarus have suffered thus
in Greece, in Rhodes, on all connecting flights,
in Delphi where I was not warned,
in Cumae where I could not go.
Passport Control. Do Not Pass This Point.
Too hot the sun of Greece that day,
the sun I shall not see.
'Arrival Delayed'. 'Departure Delayed'
A cold coming we had of it:
the baggage heavy, and the escalator steep,
the information scanty and the children fractious,
and the people. Oh the people.
Cans. Packets. Yesterday's papers from yesterday's travellers.
Sandwiches we have not eaten.
Tread softly for you tread on my icecream.
Now and in the hour of our departure Lord
poem by Michael Shepherd
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