Best Clock Poems
Clock of time thy hands go faster
Faster than the Moon and sun
Dreams and hopes with thee they linger
O thou lonesome forlorn singer
Hearts of people full of sorrow
With the funerals of the shadows
In the circle of Thy tick tick
Midst of sorrow midst of fun
Wait and linger walk and stagger
Till to graves all of them run
"All we have to decide is what to do with
the time that is given us" ~ JRR Tolkien ~
We are defined by how we use our time -
it can't be owned, it only can be spent.
So thus is our eternal paradigm:
we cannot borrow what cannot be lent.
Like clockwork, hearts keep ticking towards the past;
we are defined by wars our hearts have fought.
We can't predict when they will beat their last -
though souls are infinite, our lives are not.
One little step begins each summit's climb;
each moment, like a cloud, will surely drift.
We are defined by how our minutes rhyme -
let us embrace the present as a gift.
Though growth be slow, be not afraid of growing;
much steeper is the cost of standing still.
Don't watch the clock; do what it does... keep going.
We are defined by heartbeats that we fill.
Words used for the 'Time' contest:
time, moment, clock, ticking, past, present, eternal, infinite
~ Grandfather's Clock ~
My old grandfather had a clock
It wasn’t a grandfather clock
A clock it was that went tick tock
It sent me mad grandfather’s clock
Till once I hit it with a wok
But it was steady as a rock
And then it laughed and said cuckoo
A little bird went out and in
It said cuckoo bee bow and boo
Then I took aim and threw my shoe
It ran in fast and closed the door
Of old grandfather’s cuckoo clock
I had enough of all its cheek
I had it planned to glue its beak
So then I sat on wooden floor
And waited there, looked at the clock
Grandfather’s clock that went tick tock
I sat there long and fell asleep
Then I woke up and had a peep
Grandfather’s clock was under shock
It was tongue tied, not one tick tock
It hung in silence on the wall
There were no echoes in the hall
How strange it felt now that the clock
Had lost its voice, no tick no tock
The little bird made not a sound
No sortie out, no bee no boo
I missed that tiny red cuckoo.
Like a spoilt brat I'd moaned and whined
The way I acted was unkind!
Then I sat down, felt bad inside
I was ashamed. I cried and cried!
As my tears fell I heard tick tock
The friendly sound of grandpa's clock
To cap it all the red bird flew
out of the door and said cuckoo!
---------------------------------------------
Contest: Childrens Story, Dr. Seuss Style
Sponsor: Casarah Nance aided by Abigail
You go about your daily life, but do you even care ?
That one day you will wake up and your earth's not there
And what I'm about to tell you may come as quite a shock
But it's only two minutes to midnight on the Doomsday clock.
In nineteen forty seven the worlds scientists did all agree
To create some sort of symbol to show the end of humanity
So an imaginary clock was made for all of us to see
And when the clock chimes midnight, it's the end for you and me .
We're in the nuclear age now with climate change as well
And some of our world leaders are ringing our death knell
When they test their nuclear bombs the big hand starts to move
What in the name of God I ask, are they all trying to prove.
There won't be any winners, we'll all cease to exist
All of us will be vaporised in a cloud of nuclear mist
The ozone layer, the Artic ice and the forest's too
Are all slowly being eroded, but what can we all do.
Well you can vote for people, that can help mankind survive
And if they get in then there's a chance, we'll get out of this alive
There is still some time though with two whole minutes to go
But please don't say you weren't warned or that you didn't know.
Written on February 4th 2018.
( Entered into , The Doomsday Clock 2 Minutes To Midnight, poetry competition and sponsored by Emile Pinet.)
Left out in the cold
Silent night; my jilted star
That once blazed in cherish across her world
That once lit up her heart and twinkled her toes
Now, no longer glows
Once; upon a long time ago
A memory now of old forgotten times
A star now in decline
It lies there – dead
A death star now exploding into Supernova’s
Of hope
Hoping against useless hopelessness
That bleeds you to the core when
Drowning in repetitive
Wonderment
To choking on what could have, should have
Been
Before Him…
Before. It was just Us
Her hands, I clearly see, frozen in pantomime
Of words unsaid
They spilled across the floor like a whore
His smell upon our bed
Insanity climbing through my head
It spreads, like a disease
Only time can purge
Only the clock
It mocks
Tick tock
Tick tock…
"Write me sad"
11 September 2014
When I was born, who would have thought
I’d grow up to be ruled by a clock.
Clocks mock dreams while hours gawk -
clicking off our minutes, letting seconds go - -
Did I turn the coffee and iron off,
remember drops for my cough ...
oh, I don’t know, darn traffic is slow.
Kindly push your pedal and go – go,
come on now! We need to roll.
If I am late, I’ll get penalized so.
Got to chew fast and ignore my dog's wag.
If I dawdle, someone will get mad.
So much to deal with, rules, rules and more,
so much crap I cannot ignore.
Are there more points for being on time
than for completing work that is prime?
I want to shout for upper brass
to remove their clock from my a*s.
There’s a complete person who I am,
yet my wants get the work week cram.
Job clocks are feeling-lame, greedy-aimed
and make my life a punctual strain ...
On a spotty, sprinkled day, at the Plott's house on the block,
A squatty Uncle Scotty had sent a polka dotted, cuckoo clock!
The family said "That's handy!", and found a spot upon a shelf
For the dandy, new Swiss timepiece,...next to toddy mix and tea pots!
While Mommy Plott washed all her pots, Daddy Plott worked in the yard
The children, too, were caught worn out, after swatting flies so hard
By the twilight of the evening, they were worn, like pennies spent
Supping lentils, corn and pintos, ...then, up stairs they gladly went
Daddy Plott turned out the lights, falling, plop, right into bed
But bolted up with such a jolt!!...loud "CUCKOOS!!" hurt his head!!
The brand-new clock, made such a noise, his nerves hung by a thread !
That yoddling bird, that could be heard, might wake the neighborhood!
It popped out every hour, and the sour house would shake
With a hollering "CUCKOO' voice....with an awful racket made!
They covered it with pillows...and took it from the room
But the "CUCKOO-CUCKOO-CUCKOO" could be heard...from even the moon!!
They would just doze off, fall fast asleep, and think that it was done....
But when the hands said Next O'Clock......it would cluck out lots more fun!!
One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock...four....!!
The poor little bird, with his voice getting sore....
Saying 'cuckoo', ....'Cuckoo'......"CUCKOO!!!" again !!!
So Daddy took out the tick...........then he took out the tock
Then he defrocked little birdy.....so that he couldn't talk
Now it sits on a shelf.....in the house at the Plott's
Even the clock's little birdy.....can sleep like a rock!
All alone in the corner of the room,
proudly stands an old grandfather clock.
His presence ever majestic looms,
as he precisely tics and tocs.
He counts every second of the day
and every minute of our time.
Never a word does he say,
but every hour, in he chimes.
The old gentleman is up in years
and never a moment does he lose.
Through all the families' joys and tears,
he never touched, his hands he could not use.
Now the kids are grown and left the nest.
The house seems quiet and a little sad.
The old grandfather clock never rests,
as he watches over Mom and Dad.
10 / 24 /18
That clock on the wall is going too fast,
If it continues this pace I don’t think I will last.
I woke up this morning and looked over the sink,
to see my reflection and it got me to think...
There are lines on my face that I’m sure were not there,
and to my surprise; a new color of hair.
My eyes are not as innocent, and my nose a little round,
and perhaps around my middle I could see an extra pound.
Where did all the time go? Is this some silly trick?
There on the wall that clock continues to tick.
I listened for a minute, as that clock seemed to slow,
as if for a moment to say “don’t you know?...”
And then time stopped still as I remembered the years,
The times that I’ve had, the laughter and tears,
a flood of fond memories began filling my head,
like a book of my life but much easier read.
My time with my brother and sister of course,
my favorite things, a new bike and a horse.
Swimming and tennis and rodeos, too,
my friends and the crazy adventures we’d do.
My very first kiss; my heart skipped a beat,
the first time that I drove a real car on the street.
High school and college and meeting a wife,
overcome by the joy of adding kids to my life.
My thoughts now turned to my mother and dad,
I am grateful to them for the life that I had.
They cared for me always, and taught me so well,
as I replay these memories it’s easy to tell.
I’m grateful for all the of the things that they gave,
the lessons and wisdom I was able to save.
That clock on the wall doesn’t have any brakes,
no way to slow down and it gives me the shakes.
But I don’t mind the wrinkles, the lines or gray hair,
I’ve had so much fun and the timing was fair.
I know that my life is like one giant cup;
The great times that I’ve had were in filling it up.
Looking back on the winters of my life,
I realize now, each brought a new light.
Though at the time my eyes did not see,
the wisdom, God was planting in me.
Certain seasons, bring more rain,
and surely, some bring more pain.
As the clock ticks on, taking us through,
for it stands still for no one, this is true.
Change is for certain, as the harsh winds blow,
making us stronger, from that winter's snow.
We pick up the pieces, and our journey goes on,
another chapter finished, then another season born.
An endless cycle are the seasons of life,
and all will be remembered, for wisdom brings new light.
It is then, that time does mock,
in fractured, punctuated dreams.
Alongside the tick of the clock.
Elusive, as sea serpents in a Loch,
your reflection, not always as it seems.
It is then that time does mock.
"Come, count the years, take stock.
life, expired tickets, you can't redeem,
alongside the tick of the clock."
And there, it comes as quite a shock.
You find yourself adrift, out of steam.
It is then that time does mock.
"You strutted away like a Peacock,
who's plumage means nothing in Death's theme,
alongside the tick of the clock."
Against youth's door, you stand and knock.
But, it is too late and you scream.
It is then, that time does mock,
alongside the tick of the clock.
For the contest, Villanelle Me
Sponsored by Catie Lindsey
Placement: 1st
Whilst the clock ticks, appear memories of her past
For three faces she owns, which would be the one that lasts
Would it be the one from old, or the one from her recent past
For three faces she owns, which would be the one that lasts
Many words were shared, to the future forget the past
For three faces she owns, which would be the one that lasts
Whilst the clock ticks, reality now met her past
For three faces she owned, it's the older one that lasts
*~*
I can’t get behind the wheel, I’m disqualified
So I’m on the early morning train ride to the city
There are so many commuters, I join the throng
Down the street as I was drifting with the city's human tide.
We are packed like sardines crushed side by side
Makes me wish I’d never driven when blind drunk
It’s many years before I can get my licence back
Now I rely on trains or friends or take a taxi ride
I wish I could drive my car, that can’t be denied
But I got caught and ended up before the judge
Got banned from driving, I had to pay a huge fine
I’ve lost my good character; and my sense of pride
I began drinking heavily when my dear wife died
It spiraled out of control but I don’t deserve any pity
As being four times over the limit cannot be justified
Fiction poem for Contest
3. Down the street as I was drifting with the city's human tide.
03/09/20
Children have gone, house settling down;
sitting and sifting through memories found.
How quickly life passes--a grandma now
I wish I could reverse the clock somehow.
I didn't know how quickly they would grow
into their own lives--a world I don't know.
November 28, 2021
Bite Size Poem No. 28 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
First Place!