"tocs" poems
As I let my mind wander into time, and release these binds that have me confined, I began to feel a great energy, like the sun had been compressed and put into me, and as time tic tocs and unwinds into its trail of infinity. I realize a trinity mind body soul, they burn as a whole, for the mightiest of goals. and as time unwinds it'll leave you behind. unless you get your spot in, a line of legacys never to be forgotten
Confucius, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr, George Washington, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, Nelson Mendala, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawkins, Leonardo Da Vinci, Wolfgang Amedeus Mozart, nikola tesla, Wael Ghonim, Jimi Hendrix, Joseph Stiglitz, Reed Hastings, François Rabelais, Archimedes, Sigmund Frued, Charles Darwin, Aryabhata, Bob Marley, Garrett Morgan, George Washington Carver, Aristotle, John Locke, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Plato, Galileo Galilei...and many many more...
Stand for something. Think outside the box. Evolve and express yourself. Make a difference #STEM #LegacyToIfinity
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Such a huge, beautiful sky
Now that the mountains have all
Called in sick.
Plains where valleys were,
Seas withdraw as if in retreat;
Defeated armies of
Timelessness. Wake of
Soil and stone. Such a
Huge, all embracing heaven
Not even looking down.
And now, enter her, as I make
Myself comfortable with
My new life of treatments and
A violently shortened lifespan;
The one I always loved from
Within the shadows.
Willing me to live.
Caring.
A sleeper angel deployed to
Hold the holder;
Double-wing-cover from
The snow. Old love unspoken.
The kind that makes hills run for
Themselves.
Steady and unquestionable;
Tectonic shifts between hearts
Running out of
Tic-tocs and bass lines.
Plains where valleys were. She
Fills craters with her presence
In the room.
Never my girl; always my girl.
Sleeper angel activated.
I see why the seas withdraw.
No wonder the mountains called
In sick.
She raises solar storms with her little finger;
Conducts atmospheric changes with
A sigh.
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 8:40 PM UTC
It slips,
this new surrender,
past the rusted locks
and caution signs
and crumbling roads
of cul-de-sacs
and vacant lots
and open tracks
to freedom;
where conundrums play
and secrets huddle
and bodies lie
and youth decays,
retired past expired days
Engraved in time,
cocoons and shells
and nests are hung
and quartered for a chance at love;
the way ahead,
receding,
half behind
and part enslaved
(a mask of promise worn from birth to lucid grave)
And,
like an avalanche,
it falls in quick pursuit,
this multiverse of
filthy guise
– of liquid paths and dangerous eyes –
and ruby coloured blushing cheeks;
where every lover’s
heart of sponge or stone
descends to meet . . .
heating,
for another touch
beneath the fraying sheets
And all the while
in rush and glory,
time,
********** moments
as it passes, flies away –
manifest instead as flesh,
(again)
with wings that only beat
to re-transcend
and scar
and mend in
pounding,
swollen,
rhythms,
c
l
a
w
i
n
g
for the warmth of smothered distance:
roaring
for a welcome end
So,
spaced between
the tics
and tocs
of darting pain
and thrusting *****
of ***** aroused, abused, and shamed,
a silence, near, deploys again
the ever caged
and emptied song
and lusting shame
of mouths and tongues,
inclining, fast at last
to go
from whence it came
to soak the mind
and strip the soul
and blur the lines
of time and toll,
buried,
in surrender, whole
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Oscillating timekeeper ticks and tocs.
Pendulous seconds bumping time forward on the face of a clock.
Father Time, that Patriarchal chronometer
that martyr, master, commander and observer.
Watch the clock, it's moved forward, did you notice time moving?
Father Time so old, and bearded, a scythe by his side waiting to cull.
Waiting is dull.
Time is a lull, a lullaby before you die.
Cronus never steps back, always marches forwards
and we the human race, suspended in time, and space
watch the clock, wishing more time away with regret,
whilst watching the clocks face.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
If they made Holy Scriptures out of our deeds
How many would we put on display for everyone to read?
When Bani Israel was frozen in time
within divine words,
they did not know
they would become timeless lessons
for generations to come.
Not the liar when he told his last lie,
nor the careless while laughing at the cow,
not even the pious while he raised his staff.
Yet today, we read their stories
With heedless hearts ,
forgetting that we too will be written
in pages heavier than stones
on scales worth more than mountains of gold.
So, why do we pretend that our time is infinite?
As though tic tocs were nothing but melodious beats
synchronized to our pulse.
wal Asr
And by time
Innal Insana la fikhusr
Verily mankind is at loss
How can we not think of yesterday as an effigy,
And tomorrow’s uncertainty as a form of art?
We are artists.
And when our hair strands start to reflect the silver moonlight
When our eyes start telling century old stories
When our joints start pleading with time
Will we then finally ask ourselves:
What will there be left of us?
Originals,
or mere copies?
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
Tik tok
Tic toc
J'attends, j'attends et j'attends
Les heures passent lentement
Tik tok
Tic toc
Basta et assez
Y'en a marre
Already
Hasten et vite vite
Basta et allez
J'en ai marre
Already
D'attendre, attendre et attendre
Les tics tocs
Et les tiks toks
Que les tics toquent already
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
The best things in life are free, a sunny day, you and I, lying backs to the sky, thinkin of what we have and what we had, and what we will, a smile creeps to my face as I look at you and say
Chorus:
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
The clock tics and tocs, together we walk, sit and talk, time passes by,
My mind flies the sun lives and dies to rise again and again and again.
Like the breaths we take and the choices we make I’m gonna jump in the lake that is your soul, swim through our lives and dive into our dreams. Heaven is on earth today, because..
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
The good Dr said: “Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” He was right as can be, like a snowflake your unique and one of a kind, The duplicates can me made night and day to say what you say and walk like you walk but no one can do what you do and i say:
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
Like a rusted root you send me on my way, the brightest part of any day you add the color to my photographs and the reality to my dreams. You fill my sails with wind and light the way through my darkest nights. I lay alone and awake and I think:
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
Hey you, Roses are red, violets are blue I just wanna be with you
Winter fades and summer springs, just long enough for the leaves to fall and bring me it all, your hand in mine, and like the seasons we weather it all and while all the colors change the constant remains the same,
I just wanna be with you.
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 12:36 AM UTC
I was walking here tonight and saw a billboard with an advertisement for a communications company with the strap line:
'Connects 100 devices in your home'.
'Connects 100 devices in your home'.
I'm sorry but if you have 100 devices in your home you deserve to get hacked.
'Connects 100 devices ...' and what are these devices?
This is my fridge freezer, its connected to the wi-fi, it Tweets me whenever I have the unmitigated audacity to have the door open for more than 3 seconds.
This is my washing machine, its connected to the wi-fi, it emails me when its cycle is complete, even if I'm stood next to it doing the washing-up.
This is my carriage clock, its connected to the wi-fi, it Tic-Tocs me when it stops.
This is my games console, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my television, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my stereo system, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my central heating, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my dog. Its collar is connected to the wi-fi.
What next? This is my *** toy, its connected to the wi-fi, it gives me pretty graphs on Facebook.
(To audience: From that reaction I'll conclude that that last bit is already out of date. You naughty naughty people!)
Pagan Paul (April 2022)
Jun 27, 2023
Jun 27, 2023 at 9:04 AM UTC
I saw myself, just yesterday
sitting on a roadside rock
contemplating this and that
What was once skinny
now seems fat.
What once was mouse
now is rat.
Doors once open,
swinging,
now have locks
Looks like dog packs
sounds like *****
inside outside underware
Hawking mudpies at
the County Fair.
Thoughts so thick, I yank my hair.
Suddenly frozen. I sit and stare
days, weeks pass. "was that a knock?"
I find my wrist.
A strapped on clock?
I see the lie-ing hand spin round
moon rises, sun rises, make a loud sound
what was lost, remains un-unfound
what was valley, now is a mound
Big toe rooting,
ventilated sox
both shoes missing, cardboard box.
Suddenly, It's today
at last!
Debris surrounds me. Shattered masks?
Stomach empty? Methusela fast.
No more future, no more past.
Large ships!
Arriving, at the docks.
Time goes crazy,
when there are
no more tocs.
A lovely world of only tics.
no more stealing,
no more tricks
no more soft talk,
no more big sticks
It's raining gold,
no axes no picks
chickens sleeping
with the fox-es
Un coveting of the neighbor's ox-s.
And his gougeous
brick house wife
and his so called
perfect life
Dict. : Deleting
words like strife
dancing to ditties
from a fife
Wearin fine hats shaped
like a Chinese Wok
sittin alone on a roadside rock.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
There's this guilt
That sits
Like the world's worst ****
In the bottomless pit
Of my stomach, and it
Is making me sick
Like colic, and as
The clock tics
And tocs
That burden rots,
It's spoiling my blood
And clotting my thoughts
And making me think
It was all for nought.
I ought to start reading
These books that I bought,
Though none of those
I've read have said
How to deal with a stranger's
Bed that you wake up in instead
Of the one you shared
With the one you wed,
But my love is now
Three years dead,
And all the girls that
Have stood in her stead
Are like plastic money;
Not worth a cent.
But I can't make sense
Of how to move on,
I just can't believe she's gone,
Why did she have to die?
Why did her heart give out
At just about the best time
Of our entire lives?
Thirty five is far too soon
For a coronary infarction,
Let me tell you.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:31 AM UTC
I live in a giant matrix
of imaginary wierd-oooo's
A cast of coo-koos counting
tics
and clocks.
Who are totally ignoring
a situation deploring
It's like they are all snoring!
There are locks,
on all
the tocs.
Yes! Ticks are piling up
at six, five, and seven
****** by gravity
dead or alive,
without even one debate
without Tocs: always late
Time slowed down is our fate.
The curse?
Reverse
Over-drive.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
The dream I dreamt last night
will not fade, so real it must be true.
I was leaning against a tree,
near the shore of a great sea
vast and loud, dark but moonlit.
A shadow held my gaze, long
before me, like being followed
by the sun. The shadow was my own.
I watched it move out and away
from the tree, in the general direction
of the sea, and I felt its strong pull
so I followed.
I followed it to the water and
summoned the courage to take it
down to the bottom of it all
and soon my dream became
a dream within a dream,
and the then became the now.
The sea parted to the left
and the right and now
I am here, and in it,
walking down the middle
on dry ground without fear,
I could care less
if it collapses upon me.
I look at the walls
and feel no wonder at
their verticalness.
From the left Sam Harris says
“Its all magnetic ********
emanating from the earths core”,
while Brennan Manning speaks
to me from the right and
tells me that its God.
One side chants for God,
I can see all their faces
poking through the water wall,
while the other wall
says nothing, stoic unbelievers
confident in their disbelief.
Jesus comes through
the wall of water and stands
before me, dust at his feet,
fire in his eyes,
he puts his hands on my shoulders
and speaks:
“My prodigal son I am here.
I have always been here.
Look, there, you see the result
Of those who cease their search?
They sit in a wall of water as if
it is normal to do such things,
and though you have left me
more times than you want to be
reminded of, your leaving has always
resulted in your return, which
pleases me greatly..the more times
you doubt, and seek, and stray,
the more you are strengthened
upon your return"
Then he turns from me,
steps into the water wall
and disappears
and all is silent.
The dream is over.
Conclusion
In this everyday battle for a soul
I realize my indiscretions tend
to accelerate the tic-tocs of my existence,
While on other days, the slower days,
I lie waiting in the dark like a lonely lover
listening for the key in the lock at 3am,
alone, falling asleep in tears to wake up
in sunlight and candle wax.
*I have come to the conclusion that
I believe what I have always believed
because I have seen too much
to not believe it.*
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
Now hiding hearth and packing wools away
A careful tide arrives to mark changed towns
Chartreuse of verdant blooms commence decay
While we can’t stop what grows by leaps and bounds
Which soil holds firm or shifts beneath the clowns
It’s blind to glimpse so far as nations go
Unfaithful seed of those whose blood still grounds
Our stars and stripes which fly through ebb and flow
Mothers may darkly wail by morning glow
Seeking to raise their daughters to bright dawn
And burn hewn totems to some men they know
Dancing through smoke which wafts hither and yon
Yet fools by terror ******* and billions mocked
Win while we wait with angst by tics and tocs
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 3:52 AM UTC
Now’s exactly 07:33 in the evening of May 03, 2011:
Time is ticking round the clock
hanged on my bedroom wall
just above the upper right corner
of my room’s door.
As I watched the secondhand
tics-and-tocs over again for several times,
completing a day, I have come to reflect
how did I spend every second of my life
since the day my heart had fallen over him.
I came to think of this question
I am now asking myself while writing,
“Does each second of my time,
of how my life had been
is really worth counting for??”.
I closed my eyes, a tear dropped slowly
one after the other as I clicked every letter
on the keyboard of this very laptop
I am using now.
I hate to admit of how I truly feel
at this moment of my life,
in the middle or perhaps
I am now heading to the END
of these events about him and me,
what hurts even more
is having my confusion or
if it is a mistake that I have said
“him and me” in this statement.
Was there really been “US”?
the “him and me” I used to know,
to believed in, to loved, and to fought for.
A moment of silence.
I looked at my hand, my left hand
which he first held on the first time we met.
I can still feel his warmth,
his touch which happened
to have touched my heart too.
His touch has had me wishing
I could feel it again,
feel HIM again.
Nobody knows of how I exactly feels now,
not any person in this world knows
how much I am hurting and
that I am hurting still.
I always seem to be okay, fine,
happy and cheerful in front of other people’s eyes.
I have been a great pretender,
I have been wearing a mask
to hide myself from the reality
which I never dreamt of happening.
These scars he had left upon me
has not healed yet, I even wonder
would they ever heal on their own.
I believe they will,
I just don’t know how long
will it take them to, or how will they heal.
They are all still open, or worst,
still bleeding.
Bleeding invisibly, and painfully.
I ran out of words to type now,
but I am actually reflecting and
feeling my emotions, at least for now
I tried to become honest with myself
that I don’t have to hide nor
to pretend of my heart’s condition
when it comes to matter of Love,
matter of him and me
that was left unclosed.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
Tell elms, "clock's tics move fast past tocs
bring out the greenery, push past buds."
I've waited too long
and Spring is too short.
Aluminum siding has capsized
and I am sunk too far in this rut.
Toenails have begun taking root.
Impoverished tin can town, with feral cats
better fed on mice and sparrows,
releases its billowing film
from trash-to-steam chimneys.
And septic pea soup drips from sky,
so tell elms, "Hurry!"
Blot out pestilential reality
of this deadly poverty
with green places the sparrows might nest.
I will keep safe the mice.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
A smile or two
Counts not as a few
But a mile long road
Of "you must" and to do's
A picture worth painting
Is just as restraining
As a dog in a cage
Muzzled during training
Amidst the achievers
Are silenced nonbelievers
For those who protest
Are labeled "the deceivers"
A map of success
Is just paper at best
When your heart leaves a void
As it runs from your chest
As the clock tic tocs
Opportunity walks
Now you're stuck with the laughter
That muted its knock
Expectation demands
With transparent commands
Dont find yourself saying
"This is not what I planned"
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 9:48 PM UTC
The longest of nights lasting an eternity
As tics and tocs echo off these empty walls
Nothing moves or even vibrates
Besides the spontaneous quiver
Of my bottom lip
Dancing alone to the sadness
Dust resides in place of corners
Of every picture frame you took
Leaving hallow memories
To haunt this dreadful house
Staring at our bed
Still made from the last time
We both slept in it
My heart collapses
As my body follows
With a rush of pain
Stabbing into my mind
My dearest friend where can we run to?
Please take my hand
And show me where the pain stops
Or where the road ends
Or how the light dies
You've always been there for me
And hid away when I forgot
But I need you now more than ever
Please don't leave me here all alone
I may not be as strong as I once thought
And this scares me
Because you may be my only friend left
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 12:23 AM UTC