Kody dibble Mar 2015
Time is whatever you manage to make,
Day in day out, we learn from that which takes it,

To silence the fears that make us,
Feel the hatred that takes us,

Continue, in vain,
Like gestures and coins,
Tossed in the great beyond,

Dimes and platelets of greener days,
Rendered the vision of maximum guilt,
Fortrusions for gone the desert a piece
Peace
What is time for
our tasks at hand?
Is time a value for
a new life at hand?
Is time a new
beginning for your family?
Is time a start to
learn in school for grades?
Is time to get
a job at will?
Is time a time
for a persons death?
Its time you
and I to
start something new?
Value you time well for
it will come in handy someday.
-Sign LINK THE HERO OF TIME-
alisi olelagi Apr 2015
Time,
it's all I ever need.
Time to love,
time to dance.
A time to everything.

As the days roll on
and time unfolds.
I look for time,
to feel whole.
I don't know.  Just felt like this poem was right.
D Conors Jul 2010
i want you if
even for the
shortest moment
of time
even if knowing
our hellos
will also be
goodbye.

i want
you

to hold me.
D. Conors
06 july 2010
A clock ticks time by tirelessly
Gears winding like twines of string
With quaint clicking quickly quieting
Until finally time stands still

Broken glass of a smooth clock face
Gears halting in deformity
Glistening shards like the sands of time
Ceasing in their downward flight

A once beating ticking heart of life
Now is lost within a sleepless night
Once a momentum to continued light
Now falls to the ringing silence's might

Time broken into shattered deaths
Until there is simply nothing left
Maybe you've guessed; my nightstand clock broke. It's not like it was an antique that belonged to my great grandmother or anything. Oh wait....
"--you know, I've either had a family, a job, something
has always been in the
way
but now
I've sold my house, I've found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I'm going to have a place and
the time to
create."
no baby, if you're going to create
you're going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you're going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you're on
welfare,
you're going to create with part of your mind and your
body blown
away,
you're going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you're going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquakes, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don't create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.
Jasmina Jun 2015
Long long time ago,
When this very moment,
is a chain of past,
I will ask you  - my darling,
If tomorrow
will last.
In memory of The Moment.
time is
the space in which we grow
   without awareness
   in our early years
structured by meals
   arrivals and departures
   light and dark
   hot and cold
   school   studies  play  adventures
   celebrations
and by waiting
   anxiously or not
for things to happen

time is
that feeling
that we may not have enough of it
in our later years
busy with jobs and family and travel
covering long distances in order to
achieve and educate and care

time is
what starts to rush by us
with increasing speed
in our final years
making us wonder
what it really means

that space
by which we measure
our lives
   our universes
      our worlds

time is
ZT Feb 2016
Yung akala mo kayo na
Eh, part time kalang pala

Ginawa ka lang palang pamaparaos
Kahit katawan mo nay pinuno nya ng galos

Ikaw naman tong si tanga
Sabi mo sa sarili kaya mo pa
Kahit damang dama mong ang sakit na
Nagbabakasakali na kayo ay pwede pa

Ano bang meron sa kanya?
Na ang iwan siyay di mo kaya
Samantalang para sa kanya
Part time ka lang pala

Tinatawagan ka lang kung may kailangan
Binibisita lang pag walang mapaglilibangan
Hahalikan ka, mayat maya ay uutangan

Ganyan ba talaga ang iyong ideya nang pagmamahalan?

Gayun may gusto ko sa iyoy ipa alala
Na sa iyo may nagmamahal pa
Hindi ka ginagawang part time, at tunay kang inaalala

Sa iyong mga magulang na sa kanilay higit kapa sa ginto
Sa mga kaibigan mong bukas lagi ang kanilang mga pinto
Kaya kailan ka pa ba hihinto
Tigilan ang pagpapakatanga at magpakatino
PoemFalcon69 Feb 2015
Time,
This *Time
Of Mine.
I Do Not Know,
How To Rhyme.
All That I Have,
Is Time.

Superfluous.
(This Poem Is Sponsored In Part By Viewers Like You, Thank You)
Bo Burnham Mar 2015
Life is an open book.
           Time is an oscillating fan.

I've had to learn to skim-read because
           before I can read more than a few paragraphs,
that fucking airhead comes circling back,
           blowing pages like a medieval prostitute.

The cool air feels nice, though.
      Sometimes, when my head aches,
I let my eyes relax
       and I enjoy the breeze as the words blur.
Time stops for noone,
Only consider yourself above others if time has ever stopped ticking just for you,
Otherwise we're all equal because all of us live with time whether we use it or waste it..
Drawing inspiration from the aspect of time,
nobody loses all the time

i had an uncle named
Sol who was a born failure and
nearly everybody said he should have gone
into vaudeville perhaps because my Uncle Sol could
sing McCann He Was A Diver on Xmas Eve like Hell Itself which
may or may not account for the fact that my Uncle

Sol indulged in that possibly most inexcusable
of all to use a highfalootin phrase
luxuries that is or to
wit farming and be
it needlessly
added

my Uncle Sol’s farm
failed because the chickens
ate the vegetables so
my Uncle Sol had a
chicken farm till the
skunks ate the chickens when

my Uncle Sol
had a skunk farm but
the skunks caught cold and
died and so
my Uncle Sol imitated the
skunks in a subtle manner

or by drowning himself in the watertank
but somebody who’d given my Uncle Sol a Victor
Victrola and records while he lived presented to
him upon the auspicious occasion of his decease a
scruptious not to mention splendiferous funeral with
tall boys in black gloves and flowers and everything and
i remember we all cried like the Missouri
when my Uncle Sol’s coffin lurched because
somebody pressed a button
(and down went
my Uncle
Sol

and started a worm farm)
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