Best Daylight Savings Time Poems
The sparrows don't know
we're saving daylight,
still rising at the same hour.
Hearing squirms of worms,
their wings take flight.
Over nature man has no power.
Daylight Savings Time:
Set clock forward, lose more sleep;
Late nights, too much light.
The clocks are moving on again.
Their time and place contraire.
To look upon their face again
will leave you worse for ware.
For time has changed to light the day
and keep us brighter for it.
In truth we took the time to chase
it's hands around it's orbit.
Daylight Savings Time
Sunrise to sunset
Lacking grace undertaking
Elapse too short night
By: Eve Roper
2/18/2015
Sometimes I can’t tell the difference between what’s humorous and what’s not. It’s like trying to understand how daylight savings time impacts your sleep when you work in your yard or when you’re a cop walking a daytime beat on the street or when you’re old and retired and don’t have to set the alarm on your clock. When it gets warm and the grass starts to grow you spring forward an hour and when it starts to get cold and the leaves fall from the trees you fall backwards an hour.
I think if the ancient gods and goddesses knew about what we 21st century humans do with our clocks they’d laugh really hard at how we try to manipulate the truth about time with our electronic clocks. Then again maybe they’d get angry at our daylight saving time antics and decide to dim the light of the sun, or hide the moon from our eyes, or make all the white clouds disappear from the sky because they might also struggle like me with knowing the difference between what’s humorous and what’s not.
Daylight savings time
They promise is just fine
Once you get use to it, it is subline
Until then whatever goes wrong
You are to blame
Hopefully that doesn't happen
If it does, "Shame"
Cile Beer
.
The geese are in form
Northward bound, SPRING springs forward___
Loss of sleep for man
This Sunday morning, an hour of our time was lost.
However, benefits heavily outweigh the cost.
An hour later comes the darkness of the night.
That way, we use less electricity for light.
We have another hour of sunlight in our day.
It's more convenient for us if we work or play.
We will get that hour back in the fall.
An extra hour of sleep will be great for us all.
Hour hands clock back sixty minutes of Autumn
Round about this same of month every year, what a bum
er, and inconvenient truth diverged from this chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold over
sans yesteryear doth drum
a sensation of jet lag (with earth in the balance)
as if flying within time machine at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride invariably finds me
feeling a bit ticked off and glum
and in no mood to rhyme, nor be leer re: cull
juiced barely tantamount to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood as hoe hum
fortunate, this chronological seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kempf cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics
comb pluck hated off jangling black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and booring into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement for emergency convoy, when pitched from
sea to figurative shining sea – gram ma mother earth glum
where live yikyak wired vanguard trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down behavioral sink went – me mum
bling bloviation, once worth matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass of temporary confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset, when athwart pilot rum
man strait ting and bickering with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans defiantly thumb
ming nose, where body, mind & soul weeknd viz a bully did cower
hence mister clock, who got high-jacked 3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs, which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace, resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis space/time continuum did devour.
Black hole event horizon indeed kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
Sucker punched the band wagon of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted to oppose this minute accord.
just moments ago, a dawning realization
arose within this sol son begat
from ma late mother
and octogenarian widower father,
oh..no nothing cat
tuss strophic, boot merely the revelation,
how fist bumping dee clocks hour hand ahead
remembered by dat
dog gone refrain spring ahead, and fall back,
this unemployed chap doth down play eclat
attests that his quotidian schedule minimally effected
holed up here in Highland Manor named flat
roomy enough for thyself, the Missus,
and buzzfeed ding fruit flies
each approximately the size of a gnat
a minor nuisance, though tolerable
within this appealing habitat
where minor inconvenience experienced
by this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania resident
cuz as a recipient of social security disability
(social anxiety) this psyche didst get rent
which fixed (unearned) income budgeted
and predominantly costs of living money spent
hence no need to arise bright tailed and bushy eyed,
a freedom akin to folks camped out in a tent,
which exemption immunizes
this doodle ling middle aged
muddle brained chap subject ranting
early morning drivers,
who angrily, frenetically,
and splenetically rant and vent
thus, the tendency, piquancy, and lunacy
to twitter (for the Yardbirds),
and keep company with night owls, who went
a hooting for all the world wide web
to hear, whence dawgs Bach
the exact number of hours, yer oblivious
to the tight rigorous mortised schedule
manned by Mister Clock,
essentially foisting on Bread Winners,
an abstract artificial construct spurring
madcap commuters to scurry in the rat race,
lest tardiness could cost
more than paycheck
(to ap pier with permanent dock
hue ment aye shun),
an unwonted blot add hoc
king worry about getting canned -
i.e. on permanent furlough,
perhaps forced into a life of crime,
yet if caught...
wasting away in a jail cell
as warden turns the lock
one redeeming factor,
would offer opportunity to mock
management, and more pertinently
mandate to rock
and roll to the incessant muted,
yet devastatingly loud tick tock.
Daylight savings time was for farmers
But its demise is now on the brink
Whether to keep it or let it go
I wonder what Big Ben workers think?
It was the second morning of “daylight savings time,” and the change was noticeable.
My BF Peter has a doctorate in applied physics, he's an expert, so I asked him, “How do they move the sun?”
He gave me one of his patented, blank looks, “What, who moves the sun?” He answered.
“Well, yes,” I said, “I suppose the “who” is important, but HOW do they move the sun? Peter can be dense sometimes.
“What are you TALKING about?” Peter asked, his head tilted in confusion.
I explained, “It’s daylight savings, ya? The sun is different, SO - how do they move the sun?”
“They don’t MOVE the sun,” he said, in a smug "I've got a PhD" way, “people set their clocks ahead an hour.”
I was stunned - Could it all be a cheap trick?
How, (I snorted in my mind) could they get everyone on earth to do THAT?
I didn’t argue, but I didn’t set my Apple Watch ahead or my laptop, or my desktop, or my iPad or Alexa - his “apotheosis” was obviously wrong.
He’s a new PhD, they just haven’t told him how they do it yet. I can wait. I patted his hand for support.
Peter also says that, out there in the “multiverse,” there may be an earth where I don’t have homework. First of all, isn’t it just like a guy to believe all of that “marvel comic” stuff?
“So, Superman’s real then?” I asked. He just lowered his head - burn: I had him there.
Secondly, can he get me/us to this planet “No homework?” NO.
Applied physics may very well be useless.
.
.
Webster: Apotheosis: a perfect example of something
**I used this incorrectly on purpose (crossing heart) I swear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The stolen hour pools beneath the streetlamp,
damp asphalt drinking the phantom light.
We unwind the taut spring of summer,
let the gears groan backward through their teeth.
Shadows stretch like taffy, pulling dusk
across the threshold too soon.
Each dial surrenders to the ritual theft~
morning owes us what the evening keeps.
Tick tock where clocks turn back
Each hand for hand me back
Two times for going to that
Back track for hour's at
Docked time for landing on
What hour's erased for gone
Stopped time for haven't had
Not time for doing nad
First time for being said
Next time an hour's dead
Lost time for being there
No time for repeat wear
Host time for living well
Changed time for living Hell
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The clock coughs twice—a phlegmy tick~
We wrench its hands with clumsy might.
An hour tumbles, lost from sight.
Like dentures down the kitchen sink.
*“Daylight saving time (DST) is the practice of setting clocks forward by one hour in the spring to extend evening daylight during the warmer months, and then setting them back by one hour in the autumn….In the United States, DST begins on the second Sunday in March and ends on the first Sunday in November…The concept was first suggested by Benjamin Franklin in 1784.,The first widespread implementation occurred during World War I to conserve fuel.” (Source: Wikipedia.com)