All poems found containing the word time
Jaclyn Arencibia "over our time spent loving others,"

What will be gained
over our time spent loving others,
ignoring each other, purposefully?

Perhaps, distance built greater trust,
creating a space to be filled with new love.

This time around it could be better,
healthier than before, and somehow
smoother.

Kayla VanTil "Time has come"

Time has come
time has gone

I remain here
but soon I will be gone

Spend the time
here with me

I will always be here
all you have to do

Is look for me

Quentin Briscoe "I think God took his time"

I'm in Love with a woman...
But she don't love me,
I think God took his time
and created her wonderfully,
She shines with every smile
quickly seducing me,
We have everything in common
But thats not what she sees,
We just like the Same Sex!!!
So, she started dating my ex.............

DaSH "And getting bigger all the time"

This blackness inside
Tastes sweet when you let it
A clever deception I acknowledge
But never will comprehend
Building end upon end
Demonic sludge
Made of of disease and depression
Solidifying into brick after debilitating brick
Blocking any true hope for recovery
And getting bigger all the time
A wall I can't possibly get over
A wall i couldn't possibly climb

A wall to kill me in the end
Because that's its only design

Lithierre "So it's time to bring her up."

She's feeling down,
So it's time to bring her up.

Paige Nicole Davis "did everything for the first time."

Everyone always talks
so much about getting out
of this hell hole.
But to me, its nothing but
home.
Its where I met all of my friends,
did everything for the first time.
Its where I grew up.
I won't miss High school, but
I will miss all of the amazing
people I've met.
Walking down these streets will
always make me reminisce to days
when all we had was a pack of cigarettes
and a soda from the carry-out.
I'm going to cry my eyes out,
for all the memories,
and knowing that I can never
get them back.
For now,
I am perfectly content here in
my little town,
With the people I love most.

Aaron "Still, in time"

To the stranger’s eye
It seemed to have no divide
An intangible singularity
Yet corporeal and multifarious
Almost non-existing, but
Standing
Still, in time
Was

My quiescence,
A Frenzy disguised within
An exuberance
Placid,
Alacrity latent subdued by
Lament
Silent,
An eternal gaze injecting an
Iridescent daze,
Incessant stupor creating
Solitude in clamour
Upon realizing

My find,
That a mirrored everything
And more
Was her too, and
Becoming
Was

I, half of
Her borderless soul
Two distanced voices
Once unsure and fading,
Now becoming
Each other and one,

Us, what seemed to be an end,
Ended, a start
Becoming.

Nat Lipstadt "Ever diminishing time snatches,"

With each passing poem,
The degree of difficulty of diving ever higher,
Bar incrementally niched, inched, raised,
Domain, the association of words, ever lesser,
Repetition verboten, crime against pride.

Al,
You ask me when the words come:

With each passing year,
In the wee hours of
Ever diminishing time snatches,
The hours between midnight and rising,

Shrinkage, once six, now four hours,
Meant for for restoration,
Transpositional for creation,
Only one body notes the new mark,
The digital, numerical clock of
Trillion hour sleep deficit, most taxing.

Al, you ask me from where do the words come:

Each of the five senses compete,
Pick me, Pick me, they shout,

The eyes see the tall grasses
Framing the ferry's to and fro life.
Waving bye bye to the
End of day harbor activities,
Putting your babies to sleep.

The ears hear the boat horns
Deep voiced, demanding pay attention,
I am now docking, I am important,
The sound lingers, long after
They are no longer important.

The tongue tastes the cooling
Italian prosecco merging victoriously
With its ally, the modestly warming rays
Of a September setting sun,
finally declaring, without stuttering,
Peace on Earth.

The odoriferous bay breezes,
A new for that second only smell,
But yet, very old bartender's recipe,
Salt, cooking oil, barbecue sauce, gasoline
And the winning new ingredient, freshly minted,
Stacked in ascending circumference order, onion rings.

These four senses all recombinant,
On the cheek, on the tongue,
Wafting, tickling, blasting, visioning
Merging into a single touch
That my pointer finger, by force majeure,
Declares, here,  poem aborning,
Contract with this moment, now satisfied.

Al,  what you did not ask was this:
With each passing poem,
I am lessened within, expurgated,
In a sense part of me, expunged,
Part of me, passing too,
Every poems birth diminishes me.
___________

4:38 AM
September 8th, 2012

Greenport Harbor, N.Y.

Emma Perri "hat is happening to you all the fucking time"

it’s not the same when you touch her chest with your breath
what her heart hears is off key and she compares it to the best
bedtime story she’s ever heard
the kind where she becomes little red riding hood herself
with a basket of goods
that everybody wants
but she doesn’t want to fuck any of them
because she already knows that it’s the same as a sunny day but with too much wind
or one of those green suckers with a big bug inside of it

“fuck off,” she says to all the wolves and all the pigs and all the fools
they still come at her like a family of bonobos come in a day
it’s hard to run away from something that is happening to you all the fucking time
it gets you sick with a hook,

the short moments it stops happening, all you want is to run and find it
because attention is softer than loneliness
even if it is as sad as an addict tearing off couch cushions, in search of half a dime bag

- but as soon as she stopped looking for a face with eyes to love her
she took a dip in the forest, heard the birds
felt the pine needles on her bare feet bottoms,
sang like Snow White
and found herself an old lumberjack, building a house
it dawned on her that all the wolves and all the pigs and all the fools,
looked real fucking gross

Maibella Snow "to       safety       quicker     next time."

i was      brutally attacked      the other day,
though people were     unable to see      my wounds.
i was       assaulted by        words,
strung together in      careless sentences.
they made    vicious weapons     of     various differences.
these     word solders       lined up,
ready     and      eager.
when     they attacked      it was      graceful and ruthless.
the solders     burnt my     mind,
slashed my        self-consciousness,
left my    feelings     gasping for breath,
pummeled my heart.
the      wielder     of these       word solders,
was      blind     to my      brimming tears,
and      hurt expressions.
as my     attackers continued      to rip my insides,
i had to      protect my fort      from      further damage.
i      ushered      my mind into a       cellar,
carried my     self-consciousness and gasping feelings,    
into the             doors    of my      heart.
here     it was      total lockdown,
windows   were            shuttered,
doors    were         double locked.
my     retreat     was    noticed,
they now    knew            damage was done,
but not the      spectrum it was on,
they knew   enough to see        it hurt.
they walked up to         my heart in      lock-down.
walked     slowly     with a     white flag.
as they came closer i     unlocked and looked     through the peephole.
there they were,
asking     what's wrong?
saying     sorry    in a       roundabout way.
i      opened   the door for them to       enter.
we      embraced.
i took a      closer look at the     flag.
it was           white.
but around the edges,
it was               red.
there would be       more attacks      where this came from.
i plan to get to       safety       quicker     next time.

//... //

 
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