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Wilkes Arnold Mar 2016
I was relaxed, and deep in thought
The type of talk that silence brought
When just in earshot it rocked,
tick tock
tick tock
"Must be a clock"
I told myself and resumed my thought

Though as the seconds passed I could not,
Despite the will with which I fought
Do to its incessant knock
Tick tock
Tick tock
I searched for the clock
Unable to find the train I sought

I grew more and more distraught
With each and every tick and tock
That find the clock, I could not
As the silence grew more fraught
With the knock,
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
I knew the pain of Lancelot

On and on it ticked and tocked
I cursed at the unseen dreadnought
It no longer merely mocked
But each and every tick and tock
Became an unseen onslaught
TICK TOCK
TICK TOCK
T'was 11 o'clock,
When my heart felt the gunshot

Though the shots I could not block
And on and on the bullets poured
Further into the fray I bored
Each foot a cinderblock
Weighed by war
I slowly walked
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
How I'd make it answer for

Alas
With little blood left to speak for Desperately I implored
"Restrain your hands that caused such gore;
We need not fight evermore!"
But when I heard the ceaseless knock
Tick tock
Tick tock
I new my words had been ignored
And slowly collapsed to the floor

****** and bludgeoned when I hit bed rock, I had still found no clock
But tick and tock it had forgot
The church bell rang t'was 12 o'clock,
Though mortal wounds the seconds wrought
I no longer was distraught
And as I lay in the hemlock
It occurred in my last thoughts
I would miss the beating knock
tick..., tock...
tick..., tock...
First poem looking for feed back critical and complimentary
Philip Lawrence Apr 2017
The long dormant heart need
burst, explode, dance in the fire,
decry the years.
Dare laugh at the black angel,
howl with glee, a jacquerie of one,
for you are a presence, alive.
Astonish, before it is too late,
for the lambent eve wanes.
Alicia Jan 6
The past is a frozen lake
The future, a distant dream
For which everything is at stake -
Or at least, that's what it seems.

In yesterday lie our regrets
Tombs named after the things we failed to do
Can you see how we are so full of ourselves
Thinking we have a purpose to attend to?

Do not worry about tomorrow, either
For all we have is today
Filled with worries and sorrows
You do not need memories to get in the way.
John Stevens Jan 2015
(c) 01-25-15
The cold has come
What once was green , now brown.
The air is cool
Promise of Spring to come.

Boys are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.

The ball is passed
Ball aloft at last.
Through the hoop
the points are cast.

They finesse the ball
as they pass and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the clock does tick.

They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.

When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.
Basketball is upon us. The bleachers are hard but the fun is great.

Has been 6500 reads.
11-18-16.   16,100 times
12-21-16.   17,200 times
07-28-17.  28,300 times
05-18-18.   42,400 times
10-15-18   48,400 times
Who in the world is reading this?

Version called "Baseball"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1583323/baseball/
elaine Oct 2018
times running out,
hear the old ticking clock.

tick tock. time a' running out.

you can't run little girl, for it is much greater. the old man in the clock is quick to take his victims,
'your time is done. the clock has stopped. calm down girl, it will all be over soon'

black takes over your vision, all you hear is the ticking of the old mans clock.

tick tock.

one by one they all stop, growing eerily silent.
faith Oct 2017
tick-tock,
tock-tick,
these old clocks are making me sick,
tick-tock,
tock-tick,
time is running out now take your pick,
tick-tock,
tock-tick,
come on now make it quick,
tick-tock,
tock-tick,
there is no longer any time,
or any rhyme,
your time has ended,
and it can't be mended.
As I sit and watch the time pass
The green numbers on a screen
It hits me how much lies hurt me
Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
The mouse fell off the clock
Down, down, down into the endless void
Broken promises and unfinished stories
About lost riches and unfounded glory

No one notices the time pass
Unless they don’t have enough to last
Time Is just an invisible finish line
You don’t know when your time dies
But when it does you look into the skys wondering why
Time passes again, slower this time
Cause it’s saving it’s energy for it to fly
But you’ll know when you’re clock dies

So i sit here waiting for my clock
For the alarm that isnt so sweet
Why take our time when we have none to spare
Don’t take time from others cause you have none to spare
I’ll sit here and watch the time pass
The green numbers changing every minute
Lost in the trance of time passing by
I look at the clock and close my eyes.
October 15, 2018
jess May 2018
tick tick
goes the clock
as i spend another day alone
im always one second closer to my death
another minute closer to saying goodbye
the hours pass like the seconds,
i watch them go by and i can't bring myself to move
tick tick
i can hear the bomb
my impending doom
im going to waste my life away, i can see it coming
the people i love, they're getting farther away
i can't reach them anymore,
maybe it's not them who's drifting
maybe it's me
tick tick
it feels like im waking up just before my alarm
too soon
i feel like i'm already gone
Jayne E Apr 4
When the clock does tick tock
It does wake you again
in flood the rivers awash
with slithers and withering dreams
of unbidden monsters
counting unpealed screams

it's time to drown slowly
it's time to run fast
no matter her pace never
to outrun the past

filled with earth flavoured
bon bons and beach scented lies
all faithful young child slighted
by his hunters knife

it's a coat of the forest and
a gown of dead leaves
in these sad deathly hallows
my soul he did bleed.

J.C. 13/03/2019 3.30am
Weljay Sep 2017
the bitterest most painful cry of all
is the cry of regret
especially when Time makes you recall
the things you haven't mete
Kisses. Hugs. some of the things we lament
for time is now all spent.
goes the clock.
It’s just a
           Tick
                   Tick
                           Tick
Wracking my brain
           Tick
                  Tick
                          Tick
Programmed­ to drive me crazy
           Tick
                  Tick
                          Ticking
Tak­ing over my thoughts
           Tick
                  Tick
                         Ticks
Making it hard to sleep
           Tick
                  Tick
                         Tick
I need to escape
           Tick
                  Tick
                         Tick
My very own brain
Patricia LeDuc Mar 2018
You can’t stop time from passing by
No matter the tricks you try
Time passes way too soon
From noon to noon does time consume
By night the phases of  the moon
By day we live by God’s sundial
To mark the time we have
So use it well each passing year
Share it with friends near and dear
Spend it now
Live in the moment
There is no bank of time lost
1/18/18
live life to the fullest
Matt Shade Apr 2018
I think
therefore
I am
afraid
the hand
will take
what it
has made
and I
will fade
into
the snow
before
I find
a place
to grow.
Mykenzie Sep 2018
I can hear the time passing
Tick..Tock
Can you?
Tock..Tick
I hear it passing
with every missed chance and
every failed oppurtunity
Jayne E Jun 4
When the hands of time
get lost in the rhyme
when they pull you back back
and space does crack crack
it's torment in a truckloads ride
with fraught mind nowhere to hide


it's the real life boogey man
showing you just how he can
take you down down in one blink
then sleep is here & on the brink
of hell you teeter totter pirouette
the curtains shut the scene is set


back back you hurl back in time
to the darkest days & the darker nights
it's the ice cream truck that never comes
it's the cold blades glint as warm blood runs
it's the sun shining just over there
it's the monster creeping ever near


when the sun won't rise fast enough
his smooth skin hands bring the rough
and the dance won't stop only the clock
frozen in time backwards tock tick tock
it's the sickening taste of copper & dirt
& knife slices are the least of the hurt


when the scars dont heal just remain
it's the constant bleed the lingering pain
of a child's heart broken & left to rot
it's never enough & its an awful lot
see the world dissovle see trust rust
feed the need inside the want the must
try to grasp on tight a filament of hope
or contemplate swinging rough rope


it's these lines bleeding all over the place
searching seeking a familiar warm face
is it giving in or is it reaching out
or just more my sickened pen to spout
even after he's long & cold in earth deep
it's the knowing I am his forever to keep
my stolen child my innocence my hope
the faint scars left in skin of rough hewn rope.

J.C. 05/06/2019.
Ok so apologies for the 'darker' writes recently, its just how it is when past atrocities rear their **** head, and thr monster comes creeping into your dreams/nightmares.
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
The distant thrumming
the rhymic ticking
a sound I used to hold dear.
washing away
the squeaks
the squawks
of a home too broken too share.
The taps
The tocks
of an old analog clock
washing my life to sleep.
Zeleyha Mata Jul 2018
You call me
She, Her, Daughter, Girl
Shhhhh...
You speak with a blind mouth,
Look at me, see me
She isn't me,
Only a fantasy that you clutch till your knuckles grow pale.
I am not broken, I am free
But you hide behind a veil
Afraid to finally let go of...

Long hair, Lipstick, Lace dress
You question each time I show you my truth,
"Are you trying to hide your femininity?"
No, my femininity is simply not my definition.
Spend a day in my skin, in my cage,
And don't cry when the words start to pierce you like daggers,
Shhhh... Stay silent, don't worry, it's just a phase.
Now do you see that "She" just doesn't make sense?
You speak to me but your voice seems distant,
Bouncing off of me and echoing
Like I am the hollow statue of the girl you used to see.
"I am right in front of you, you know"
But my words are only heard when they come from her lips.
Do you see me now?

Mother, Children, Wife, Woman
A silent prayer each night for all the things I am not,
Stomach swollen, hair to my waist
The glow of an expecting mother on my face.
Curves, not edges,
Pink, not blue.
Delicate hands grasping the man who stands in my place.
Do you see me now?


Pants swollen, hair to my brow,
Along my jaw,
Down my legs,
Sprouting from my toes.
Do you see me now?
Bulged, Buzzed, Boy
Blood on my sheets, not between my legs
Stained by the girl who lies in her place
Fresh coat of gel and cologne,
Swirls of shaving cream.
Bare chest, Burning skin
Twitch of an Adam's apple when breath comes short,
Nervous fidgets with a tie,
tick tock,
"Pick me up at eight"
"Treat her right" "I will sir"
"Will you be my..."
"You're going to be a father!"
"You are the best daughter we could have asked for"
...."Son" I whispered.
But you didn't hear,
Please tell me
Do you see me now?
Any one who can relate to this but can’t say it, I hope I can be your voice.
Daniel Oct 2017
Maybe I'm like a clock,
set on the wrong time
and not ticking right.

But there are others like me
that are also
set on the wrong time.

And maybe,
there is someone out there
who is also set
on the exactly wrong time
like me.

And perhaps,
we were meant to be wrong
to find each other
and tick together
in our own
right time.


Quinn
Is it wrong
to hope for the right one
to come along?
edit: I don´t believe in the idea of a "right one" anymore. Now, I believe that despite all of the differences between two people and despite all of the imperfections in a relationship, the relationship can still be worth staying in as long as both/everybody in the relationship put enough effort into understanding the other person/people.
Nina Kay Jul 2018
There are too many days

Too many hours

In which the happenings are never ours

Too many words we didn't mean to speak

Too many truths that we forgot to seek

Too many loved ones never told

Because we played the coward
at a time that called for being bold

Too many times we chose to look right past,
walk right on by

Because we wouldn't want to pry

There are too many chances never taken

And far too many dreams we work too hard to never waken
Kenji Oct 2017
Philosophy intrigues me.
The depth is formulating.
The aspect is deriving.
My mind...
Its enticing.

Questionable thoughts and unanswered delusions.
The thought of every desire onto which I account to...
Its illusions got me fantasised.
The dilemma...
The time lapse...
The ticking clock...
Tick tock...
Tick tock...

The universe is my soul...
My soul, the universe.
May time unravel my true desires...
As I continuously ascend

**Alien goddess in a human form
Maddie Sep 4
Tick
Can you hear the time?
Tock
It passes by.
Tick
It never stops.
Tock
Why won’t it stop?
Tick
What if it stops?
Tock
Please don’t stop.
Tick
What time is it?
Tock
How much is left?
Tick
Once at the beginning.
Tock
Can you hear the end?

TickTockTickTockTickTock...
Justus Aug 2018
I liked quirky women
It was easier to breathe around them
Their irregularities gave me something to watch, whether it was entertaining or simply odd
The ones that fully embraced that quality were the most radiant
Looking at the them was almost the same as looking into the sun
They gave me insight as to what I was lacking
Embracing their warmth gave me balance
I gladly take the backseat to them to this day
My place is observing from the side
I like for my vanity to be silent
The only issue with them—women in general—is that they have a need for constant communication and affirmation and affection
In the beginning, it’s more tolerable because everything is new and exciting
Then comes the inevitable: I get tired
Their quirks have become predictable, and their conversations dull
One week I’m deeply infatuated, then after the experiment becomes a process, the next couple weeks drag by with each day seeming to last years
That’s when I withdraw
Phasing out of a fifty year long commitment of love and charity, like the coward I am, then drifting back to the safety of solitude until the cycle repeats itself
I’m a dog
I’m a loner
One of these days I’ll have to pick one
But it won’t be today, and certainly not tomorrow

Sometime.
Ye got to Fancy this Hearty Stout, Aye,
Soot-soaked with tub-flavoured Laurels of Gold
Now bloke-haste Juggers tick your nerves on-high
And make ye shout the Trumpet-Football-Fold
Yet so, our Celtic Spirit comes to call
For you to Jig their Post-Victorious Dance
Or, if upset, prefer to keep knees on hold
And hope such Font will get you that Romance
Still, never deny those After-Glugs won't count
In palling the Bet for Arsenal's Wear
Sudden Death Match will cause the Team to Mount
And show those Charbarrels a Reason to Tear.
Raise a Swig, to where there Brave Captains be
I take me Share, and drink the Sailor in me.
#guinnessireland
Ken Pepiton Aug 2018
A pocket of thought, ideas.
Impulses, has beens

epi-phenom-enal-con-currencies-synchron-icity
sorting places, thens and nows vying for attention

you see
we till stories in search of true tomorrows
not true
yesterdays (till, I said, not tell)
we **** the hard rows no one else will ***
so seed lies sown are never lies told, if the lies are never taught
or if the liars are caught before convincing the
intended crop to lie and swear a common liege Lord,
or die
for lack of knowing. Non-nascence, simplest
symptom to not see.
Whose death is yours to respond responsibly
to? My child's, or yourn?
In the early days, we knew less than we know now
about how knowing and growing were all
intended
to cost time. Ticks, ono motto whatever, the sound
gears and spiral springs pushing cogs
tick, one tooth tick at atime make

this rough, un polished, un glossed, is it wrong or

as I imagine a diamond in the rough must seem to a share cropper
experienced in diamond hunting, diamond prospecting,

prospecting expecting inspection to permit
seeing a 3.2 specific gravity,
specific
specify

species or spectacles,
spectators or special-if-eye-cation
value-en-abled. Weigh your mind in balance
with mine. I claim the mind of Christ.
What are the odds?

A wandering path, injoyable enable if-i-abble,
pacing is

everything, timing is everything, time is the test.

Time is the metagame.
Take your time. One word formed sylabble at a time.
Babble on, your confusion makes you mortal, to my mind.
Tick.
A quanta of time. Does time come in bits and pieces cernible,
but undiscernible from reality?

Babble.

Of course, time will tell. We learned that in our sleep, did we not?

Aesop taught us more than Moses, no,
Aesop taught us less than Moses.

But, we could learn to walk bearing the weight of knowing what
Aesop taught,
while we could not stand under the weight
Moses was said
to have taught.

Caught you, Jewboy. Whatchewknow?
The moral of the story.

THE IDEA is to win.
Beware the concision decision.
incisive devices, witty inventions.

Flip the shell, roll the bones, cast the runes and,
as luck might have it, die before your time.

Why factors are lies more oft than how factors.
Benefactors rule malefactors or
how or why would we invest our time in seeking reasons
to believe?

Is this the polished piece, the gemstone of specific gravity
(which currently means nothing to you. Here, you find too light
or too heavy, too weighty on the scale of specific value.)

Hard. Value hard, diamond hard, on Mr. Moore's scaled model of
Knowing exploding for reason's sake, raison d'etre, eh?
Too hard?
Not Mohr,
don't get me wrong.
We been Moore's law breaker all along.
We be manifested destinatory stories of heroes gone wrong.

Outlawed
knowing exploding to be reasoned with, by kind
children destined to become
written in stone, scarred by lies

Diamonds cutting diamonds, iron whetting iron
on eternity's edge.

Babylon, was it Bel's gate or fusion from below rising?

Magma fountains with diamond claws tearing the lands asunder
Is asunder still a word?, let me, allow me to define...
"into a position apart, separate,
into separate parts,"
mid-12c., contraction of Old English on sundran 
Middle English used to know asunder for
"distinguish, tell apart."
From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/asunder>
----

mumbler's humbler PIE, bowing before the knowers who
know nothing of my work.
Set apart, art thou holy aware?

Hermit me, meet the rest of me. The true rest that remained.
We live, you and I. Trust me, next is worth the wait.

Suffer needs no pain to make its point. Waiting is.

Grokk. WHO would believe that idea could live
through telegraphese to be tweet meets for the
Cosplay clans. How never grokked a rock,  why even less.

Strange, not be long in this
place. if
place this be. Odd
set aside
torn asunder
blown away.
Awake, little birdie, tell me true,
what's a man like me to do?

Did you meet the famous Mr. Blake?
I cleaned his chimney, way back when, chimbly's whut
we called em. Smoke stacks belchin' black
makin' black moths invisible to voracious
gulls.
Now the peppered moths are free
to be white-ish, for better or worse.

----

right, now, do right or

miss the mark,
the specific mark you made, maybe,
imagining, abstract obstructions missed
by the skin on Job's teeth as you run past

right now to more. You know?

----=

Story telling was the same as lying when I was a child, to me.

Telling stories was my gift I never took. Or am I lying? or mad,
in the old way.
Chailot's rag picker was my best friend.

No noble thought ever found it's home in my head, once
I thunk it, it stunk to high heaven, for me stinkin' thinkin' it.

Po' ems sang sour to fiddles wit' one strang and drums with no
cymbals
Screamin' he owed m' soul the comp'ny sto' bang bang thud.

I died, he lied, and lived to tell this story, ****** if I know,
****** if I don't.

True as true can be. I am lost, but once was found,
lyin' rough, uncut in acres of unseen gems.
----
* Voltaire refused to teach me any thing I could not define:
late 14c., deffinen, diffinen, "to specify; to fix or establish authoritatively;" of words, phrases, etc., "state the signification of, explain what is meant by, describe in detail," from Old French defenir, definir "to finish, conclude, come to an end; bring to an end; define, determine with precision," and directly from Medieval Latin diffinire, definire, from Latin definire "to limit, determine, explain," from de "completely" (see de-) + finire "to bound, limit," from finis "boundary, end" (see finish (v.)). From c. 1400 as "determine, declare, or mark the limit of." Related: Defined; defining.

So, imagine facets unseen, I am at least a meme, a bubble rising on the tide. Think, as you will. Amen?
Incorporating radical (root-related) definitions via cut and paste is my way of acknowledging that I have no ex-uses left for using words in a wrong, thus lying, way.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Where do we meet
    Oh! No He_*
Getting onto
the next courses
Oh La- La "Cheri"
K>ANSAS>>City

_ Prime spot pretty

 let's >- jump ))) To Love
Please raise the horses

What a skirt steak in her
Petticoat Junction
Going to Kansas City affection
Different tribe or breed
What needs to love me
tender Elvis meet Beavis Buthead
    More  T.L.C  
computer DOC Tick Tock
IRS taking a meat beef
chunk is everybody drunk
IOS what is really the meat
Business Politician Trump

Subscribe well done
Cooked or rare spooked
Taking a Spin City kick
She got canned and licked
The prime meat hot seat

The ******* who arrives
first class steak knifes
Ms. Pork hard chew 
Mr. Beans second rate
Dark pumpernickel
Saloon *******, he
is eating
The young tender
chicken leg

High five thigh? Hands
up Robin Fly
Save the meat "let it be"
  "Let it Be" Beatles
The beat Colonel deep fried
Grade A rare meat slicing

Eating in a board meeting
The pig meat market
of pricing

Doe a deer
he loves
International beer
A very sensitive time
Slaughterhouse no way out
His poker face meets
potato heads beef jerky
Surrender Weds
maple smiles picky
The rich Syrup
Disney Mickey Mouse
Kansas City Wonder
meat house

The beauty of animals
"Moms kettle she is talking
to Parrots" meat
the market for rings riot
Six enemies making
6 rounds
Six servants 666 carats
Robin smiles heartily
"Campbells Chicken" little


He's the Beef Man stew
If you only knew

He's spitting tobacco chew
She peels the potato for the
meathead bad to the
T-bone Dachshund I Bone

Garlic knots heart of the
Sausage wearing the
meat corsage Superbowl
My sweet basil good soul
Grilling your bullhead
Pirate Ribeye steak pupils
Mr. "Billygoat" Bachelorette
Hair flat crepe Suzette

Moms Korean style fuss
coleslaw
what a seesaw
Playing Porgy and Bess
 Scarlet the red rare meat
Rolling stone baking pin
Mississippi one or two
Under my meaty thumb

Comes in three-4-5-6- Lucky 7
-Crazy 8 furries
Nine meat ribs-10 babies
with bibs
Hungry Man meat when!!
Country plaid tablecloth
"Kansas Men" of the cloth
The Pig approval
Kansas City Mayor
new arrival

Family together eating
Don't eat our animals
Why is life so unfair
Feeding the poor
with cans
The bad cut of meat devil
this is not the "Grade A"
This is not a ring
circus trainer Bullseye

Robin coffee animal-friendly
Two peas in a pod I pods
  I tune like Gods
Were the luckiest people to have
animals  

The Floridian with dog murals
Palm trees green thumb
plants sunshine events
The symphony dog tails
of hunts
Whats to compare her twilight
eyes hold the moment stare
Talk to the animal's hearts care
The barbecue all the meat men and the women who love their fruit listen to the Owl lady how she hoots those Kansas city slicker boots and the Hehaw have a good time with family and friends treat the animals with tender loving care
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