People can be in general pretty well trusted, of course--with the clock of their freedom ticking as loud as it seems to do here--to keep an eye on the fleeting hour.
Henry James in The Ambassadors, Book Fifth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tickin Away
The clock above the bar
Is telling me its 12:15
And its not such a gentle reminder
That Im where I shouldnt be
I just keep waiting for something to happen
Waiting for somebody to come walking in
Somebody as perfect as you were
So I can try it again
(but) chances are so hard to come by
And the second one is impossible to find
The clock keep running
And the odds keep getting higher
That its all just a fantasy of mine
But I shouldnt be thinking about it
I shouldnt be worried about it
Its just a clock on the wall
But its ticking away
Its ticking away
Its ticking away
Its ticking away
I suppose I should cut all my losses
Go home with a six-pack of beer
There aint nobody in the world like you baby
If there was, she wouldnt be coming in here
But I shouldnt be thinking about it
I shouldnt be worried about it
Its just a clock on the wall
But its ticking away
Its ticking away
Its just a clock on the wall
But its ticking away
Yeah, its ticking away
Its ticking away
Its just a clock on the wall
But its ticking away
I suppose I should cut all my losses
Go home with a six-pack of beer
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fleeting moment
The moment is fleeting
The final hour is about to cone
What else do one needs to do
For all to be over and done?
We started early morning
Just before sun
Or shall we just allow nature
To take it's course, only
later to reconsider, and
Wished we had won?
The clock is ticking
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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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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Her Insomnia
this is a private affair
between her and her wall clock
there is this consistent rhythm
of the tick tock tick tock
her pupils roll and sometimes
still
staring at the walls of the house
restless she avails of all the possible
combination of postures
but to no avail
the clock keeps on ticking and ticking and ticking
she feels like a tick
and she cannot talk
this is her private affair with her wall clock
above her head
her mouth is closed shaped like
a lamppost
without a light.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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Waiting For Hours
Not a clock heard ticking with a tock,
Is doing it slower at one's advantage...
To block the stopping of procrastination.
However...
Nothing prevents a hand to reach out,
For a muffin to stuff a mouth.
OR a burger with a side order of greasy fries,
To find its way to satisfy taste buds.
And people can be seen waiting for hours,
Patiently...
To get their hotdog topped with sauerkraut.
Not a clock heard ticking with a tock,
Is doing it slower at one's advantage...
To block the stopping of procrastination.
And yet...
People give more time in the doing of it,
But will stand in line for days without a single complaint...
To pay to entertain themselves with an array of nonsense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Most of them are pretty down records, pretty unhappy, pretty confused. Which only reflects how people in general were feeling, I mean really the sense that you get is society running down.
quote by Lester Bangs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Infidelity
When a man just cant be trusted
And again hes gone and lost it
Your call has been registered
Itll be returned when I get back home
Ive been out loving all night long
I cant help it, that love it makes me strong
When a man just cant be trusted
And again hes gone and lost it
Ask me all the questions you need
I dont tell lies, my conscience dont bleed
Youll get all the time I can give
As long as you respect my freedom to live
When a man just cant be trusted
And again hes gone and lost it
I just cant be trusted
A kick in the ribs for the arrival late at night
So late in the evening you could see the morning light
When youre sat up alone and you wonder where Ive been
You can pick up my belongings and tell me where I can take them
When a man just cant be trusted
And again hes gone and lost it
I just cant be trusted
Infidelity
song performed by by Simply Red
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People don't understand the virtue of time, until their clock stops ticking.
quote by Steve Goodman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blind Them With Your Reach For The Stars
Why cling onto what people think?
Is that going to change?
Are you...
Going through any misgivings?
If you are...
Let that be a natural process.
People are going to voice their opinion.
And some do not care how that is done.
Or if what is done,
Hurts anyone.
They just want the taste of that venom,
Dripping from their lips.
Every second, minute and hour...
A ticking clock tocks.
Why try to stop what is a fixture,
Of one's routined appetite?
As long as you give 'power'
To that which decides, select and contemplates,
Your choices made in your life...
What is the point of saying whose life it is,
Lived?
You definitely are not the one living it.
And if you are...
Why cling onto what people think?
When in the environment of those who are thoughtless...
You do not have to pretend to do the same..
And not one of them are pretending to maintain a sanity.
Why stoop to that level?
When you can blind them with your reach for the stars!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Knock By Mocking
Knock by mocking.
The clock will not stop.
Intimidate by shocking.
Your destiny becomes the one that's blocked.
Reduce those to tears and fears.
Make it clear the greatness of your power.
And every hour the ticking of the tock that is heard...
It is you that becomes devoured!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Time Clock
we all have a time clock ticking every moment
of every day.
until the last gasp of breath
which slowly slips away.
so while here on this earth
use every second that goes by.
for we pass through this world but once
no matter how we try.
we will be remembered by friends and family
for the goodness when we care.
for that is something that they'll always share.
when you share the joys and sorrows
the heartaches and the pain
the warmth and tenderness that you feel
for them is still the same.
open up your heart for all the world to see
that what you have locked up inside
has finally been set free.
enjoy life to the fullest
for there is no turning back
the time clock keeps on ticking
and does'nt ease up the slack.
poem by Louis Rams
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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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Whose Freedom?
Freedom, freedom, freedom!
Whose freedom?
My freedom, your freedom, our freedoms;
Like e thousand times of a cry in a land!
Yes, they rule with iron-hand but,
We have to obey always;
A rule with an iron fist but,
We have to be the subjects always;
Whose freedom?
Look around you,
It is full of colours;
My freedom, your freedom, their freedoms!
Freedom, freedom, freedom! ! !
We nedd freedom than these shackles.
Whose freedom?
Free-free-free! Freedom to my people! !
Which people?
My people, your people, our peoples;
Have mercy on them and rule them with care.
We need freedom around us,
Whose freedom?
See the type of governments around you;
The people's freedom with an iron fist!
Tell me if all is well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Time's Ticking Away
The pendulum swings,
In such a perpetual way,
It keeps on moving,
In a continuous sway.
The momentum decides,
Time's passing on,
A tick on the clock,
And the moment is gone.
The pendulum swings,
To left and to right,
Time's ticking along,
In mad rhythmic flight.
And as it moves onwards,
Time's ticking away,
There's no way of stopping,
The road to decay.
The pendulum swings,
Another second goes by,
The clock's keeping time,
But time wants to fly.
By night and by day,
Time never stands still,
The pendulum swings,
At 'Time's' endless will.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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To Value The Blessing
Bewitched quick.
By a ticking of a clock,
Heard to grow louder.
And the speeding of it seems,
To emphasize the days one ages...
From one stage to another.
Leaving time one takes to procrastinate,
A waste.
As an awakening to aches and pains felt,
To ignore to value the blessing of life lived...
To accomplish something done,
Yet still enabling one to do.
Bewitched quick.
By a ticking of a clock,
Heard to grow louder.
One can sit to listen and reminisce.
Or decide to experience,
More life in the pursuit of it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Peace Proposal
Said General Clay to General Gore really must we fight this silly war
To kill and die in such a bore I quite agree said General Gore
Said General Gore to General Clay we could go to the beach today
And have some icecream on the way a grand idea said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore we'll build sand castles on the shore
Said General Gore we'll splash and play let's leave right now said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay but what if the sea's closed today
And what if the sand's been blown away the dreadful thought said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay I've always feared the ocean's spray
And we may drown it's true we may it chills my blood said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore my bathin' suit is slightly tore
We better go on with our war I quite agree said General Gore
The General Clay chanrged General Gore as bullets flew and cannons roared
And now at last there is no more of General Clay or General Gore
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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