Once around the long arm passed
Swung low the leaden bauble
Twice around the long arm passed
Hellos at the threshold
Young with old makes for storytelling,
Dragons look down
Imps smile in glee
And plaid checkered cloth
Gathers stains.
Newspaper discarded tes cosy
All around the long arm swept.

They say it happens all when the Time comes
Seems that the clock stopped finally ticking
For when it runs a thousand miles
There is no one to stop us
From doing our own thing
You know it doesn't matter what the others are saying
One day a scholar, the next without power
We are the masters of our destiny, so is the Truth
No clock
No fear
No globe
Can destroy what is meant to be.

There is no such thing as silence,
For there is always the clock, ticking in your ear.

My heart is a melting *** of emotions
Oh boy, don't get me confused with those flakes
and their brash mannerisms
I'm a snow globe with messy thoughts covering every inch of my brain
My eyes are car headlights leading me down a beaten path through welcoming views and dreaded ones
And my lips,
they're a clock,
searching for the right time to say or do anything
these things make me invincible

the world is slowing down

a mist of milky gossamer moves in
between
my will and things to do
the clear shapes of objects
are growing soft and dull
the moment's urgency
yields to my ponderings
   of possible decisions
abstract rigidity arrests the words
things stay forever as they are

   is it a sense of death
   that delicately touches on my neck
   and steals from me the comfort
   of continuous change?

life seems to walk away
in long and measured stride
the kitchen clock has never been so fast

it measures time
from here up to the stars

it counts
and blows
the moments of my delicate eternity
one by one
into the past

* *

I turned up on time today;
Washed, and dressed, and brushed.
Taking my time, not in a rush.

The clock struck as I walked in;
Calm, and poised, and steady;
My plan's drawn up, I'm ready.

It's been a while since I walked out;
Hours of rage, and hate
Vying to make me break;

Clutching at friend-shaped hands
Too sad, too helpless to
Help me make it through.

The clock strikes behind me;
Tension, and trapped fears
Ascend to bring me once again to tears.

I...
                                       [slow to a crawl]
I...
                                       [come to a halt]
I...
                                       [a nervous tick, tock.]

As time screams at me to run;
I'm frozen, statue, stasis,
As I stare into the abyss.

I'm back to myself, I think,
And not much more, before
Smashing my day on the floor.

The clock
Continues
Regardless...

You think it's okay
But it's not.
Both of our lives
Are racing against the clock
Tick,tick,tick.
And when the big hands on the two.
And the little hands on the three
We're done.
There's no going back.
There's no changing the mistakes we've made.
There's no saying I love you one last time.
There's no taking on more whiff of the fresh cut grass,
Or your favorite perfume.
Tick tick,tick
There's no more adventure.
There's no more heartbreak.
There's no more anything.
We'll.
be.
gone.
Tick, tick, tick
So we need to do it now.
We need to indulge on the gifts we have now.
It's okay to order that piece of cake
It's okay to get that hair cut you love
But everyone else hates.
It's your life not theirs.
Tick,tick,tick
Do something you love
Because you love doing it.
Even if everyone tells you you're wrong.
Because our clock is ticking.
We can't see it.
We don't know if the big hand has almost reached the two.
And if it's almost there
And our time is up.
Did we live the life we wanted to?
Tick,tick,tick.

There's a time and place for everything
A time to cry
A time to laugh
A time to love
A time to run away for a little while
With the someone you love.
I call this perfect timing
But I think now's the time to realize
You never got the timing right .
You were random.
A clock with worn out batteries,  
Or maybe you work counter-clockwise
I guess I'll never know.

And I did.  
But I realized something else too.
I realized i have never loved anyone,
As much as I love you.

Is there yet able faith here?
Or is time too much to bear?
Hang a clock in the living room
and remove another guest
Hear no pure walls speaking silence
Only hand clicks
filling the little room left
Every ****, every drink mixed
Every ****, every line
Every death, every heartthrob
leads right to the end
Whittling soft skin
from your memories
from your projections

When I die I'll hear the wall clocks
leading me through blind passages to you
and the others, using the timing
to jump back in.