Best Tick Poems
To all of us
Who have lost someone
To all of us who have lost something
A void, emptiness
A feeling of the no more
And nevermore
To those of us
Who never got a chance
To say I love you
Or I’m sorry
Or I care
To those of us who thought
There would be a tomorrow
Or a next time
To those of us who wish for yesterday
To relay the feelings of today
I say this to you
Do not wait for tomorrow
For what can be said today
Do let pride steal your chance
Do not dream of what you want
Do not wait for anything
To confess what you want to say
Tick Tock
It’s a race against the clock
Time is nothing but a fuse that burns
Convey your thoughts to those you love
For otherwise an empty heart yearns
Empty and unsaid
Thoughts of love
Fall silent upon the ears of the dead
Think about it !
Eric (and sometimes not)
i look at the walls around me
bootleg-moonshine shadows dancing
a waltz atop nighttide's stage
yet i am empty of my own emotion
alone, covered in reflections of us.
i still smell your scent
linger in every deep breath
within this humid air
and i choke up another piece of me
as the hands of time rape me
of all my colored thoughts
i now dream in black and white
in a room dressed the same.
the clock laughs in seconds
mocking raindrops on rooftops
my eyes cry the same tune
over and over again
as time becomes my enemy
i can almost hear your footsteps
tracing the stairs, approaching me
they fill the voids within my heart,
momentarily, yet it beats no more for love
than the clock on the wall,
it's just there the same
tick tock, tick tock...
memories fade with night
Verse a Favoured form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Sandra Adams 9/11/13
When Night Brings Its Stillness, Silence And Tick, Tick, Tick
Collaboration with Robert Lindley
8th March 2019
Town was quiet, its heart barely beating
midnight hour came and went so fast
moon and stars blinked through open window
silence echoed in the town's invisible pulse
Strange how life gives night its powers
its more peaceful and murmuring tones
we that too oft wake to its untimely sounds
feel crushing aches in our despairing souls
Clock watching becomes our pride-less new sport
with tick, tick, tick, its rallying calls
and when that strain promises to explode
we pray dawn's falling rays wakes world's all.
We thought not to wake too soon
yet feared we may not wake at all
and tick, tick, tick, rhythm hypnotised us,
we watched no clock, but listened a while,
until it lulled our weary eyes to sleep;
we woke uninvited, but unknowingly compelled,
tones unheard would not have been peaceful
and nights powers made us beg for our lives;
the town purred with morbid contentment,
moon and stars stroked its back,
between midnight and dawn we writhed,
the quiet town passively cursed us.
The Pilgrim’s Ghost of a Thousand Heavenly Dreams
Looking through a magical dewdrop we now see an enchanted
Chandelier, liquid-sparkling pure, where a mystical quicksilver
Mirrors a living-moonlight reflection of a thousand radiant stars.
These stars are heavenly focus points that reflect the celestial
Magnificence of Almighty God’s prescient intention, whereby all
Cosmic music forms a clockwork of ticks-tocks of a certain vision.
This vision streams and sounds throughout the cosmos entire on
Star beams with the dimension, power, and force of Almighty God,
Whilst casting a glorious panoply of light that illuminates the darkness.
The reach of God’s eternal light into this deep-dark void of the cosmos
Is known as “The Pilgrim’s Ghost of a Thousand Heavenly Dreams” that
Has an undeniable metaphorical place in mankind’s collective psyche.
This ethereal, eternal ghost by God’s own direction on our mortal Earth,
Allows for mankind’s curious interest in exploring the deepest-darkest
Crevasses of the oceans and the silent sacred secrets of the cosmos itself.
This ethereal, eternal ghost as resident in mankind’s consciousness fuels
Man’s desire, as divinely inspired, to see ourselves as a mirror-image of God
Himself, fulfilling God’s desire that our souls shall ascend one day to Heaven.
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – October 10, 2018 (Tercet)
When Night Brings Its Stillness, Silence And Tick, Tick, Tick
Town was quiet, its heart barely beating
midnight hour came and went so fast
moon and stars blinked through open window
silence echoed in the town's invisible pulse
Strange how life gives night its powers
its more peaceful and murmuring tones
we that too oft wake to its untimely sounds
feel crushing aches in our despairing souls
Clock watching becomes our pride-less new sport
with tick, tick, tick, its rallying calls
and when that strain promises to explode
we pray dawn's falling rays wakes world's all.
We thought not to wake too soon
yet feared we may not wake at all
and tick, tick, tick, rhythm hypnotised us,
we watched no clock, but listened a while,
until it lulled our weary eyes to sleep;
we woke uninvited, but unknowingly compelled,
tones unheard would not have been peaceful
and nights powers made us beg for our lives;
the town purred with morbid contentment,
moon and stars stroked its back,
between midnight and dawn we writhed,
the quiet town passively cursed us.
A Robert J. Lindley and Lawrence Sharp collaboration
3-08-2019
Note: Yet again you honor me by agreeing to compose poetry with this old and far too oft very tired poet. I knew your verses would be golden and continue this piece wonderfully to its conclusion. Thanks for gifting such magnificent verse to this our newest creation..
"The clock is a useless tool, measuring mortality,
narrowing vitality. Don't let it tick-tock away the waning moments
and fine components of your final days." (last stanza of Heather Ober's "Clocks")
A brand new day
Tick tock tick tock
You grow, you learn
You take that walk
To get your fine diploma
Fond friends get left behind
Blink one eye
To keep a tear at bay
Tick tock tick tock
You get a job
Or first you go to college
Find a mate and settle down
Tick tock tick tock
Surprises come
So soon your first child’s prom!
Blink both your eyes
Try not to cry
Tick tock tick tock
A grandchild’s birth
And then a whole lot more
Folks you used to know
Have passed away
Tick tock tick tock
Blink back those tears
Of joy and pride
And also tears of pain
Tick tock tick tock
Changes happen
For the good and for the bad
You must adapt
Or fade. . . . . .
Tick tock tick tock
Sit back in your recliner
And simply close your weary eyes
There will be no more tears
To blink away
For Tracie Edwards' Homage Poetry Contest
In my clock, I hear tickery tock
It just stopped! No tick tock from my clock
Oh my dear tick tock box
Now I fear there's a fox
In my tickery tockery clock
A sly fox in your dear tick tock box?
Oh my gosh, I can see his striped socks!
Well a stinky striped sock
could put germs in my clock
and cause tickery tockery pox.
When the days stretch into evenings
When the evenings slip into nights
When the minutes pull together
Silken threads greet the sunlight
When the days span into months
When the months spin into years
With the silken moments carted
Iridescent strands will then appear.
When the threads run through the loom
When the tapestry unfolds
What might have been weak and faded
Becomes more beautiful and bold.
We are the weavers and the spinners
So each tapestry is our own
We ourselves must choose the colours
Before the edges can be sewn.
Tick tock, tick tock, the sound of the clock
A constant reminder that time never stops
There must be something that can be done
To slow down the time, how quickly it runs
From seconds to minutes to hours then days
Calendars form an unsolvable maze
Tick tock tick tock, I'm taking stock
How much is wasted, how much is forgot
I must contribute before it's too late
Do something beneficial and not hesitate
So much can be done in so little time
But I must get moving, hands starting to climb
Tick tock tick tock, There's no roadblock
I can't slow the time by watching the clock
I twiddle my thumbs and constantly *****
Waiting for others to flip their switch
Then criticize them without lending a hand
Sleepwalking in daylight just shuffling the sand
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock...
The neighborhood buffet boasted
fried chicken and biscuits, toasted,
creamy gravy, and smashed taters.
You can serve yourself, no waiters.
Into the long line you will strut
more than ready to fill your glut.
Bypass the green salads and soup;
run quickly, to the fried foods swoop
all you can eat for one price cheap.
Pile your plate high in one big heap.
If one plate full is not enough,
get back in line and your mouth stuff
with fried okra and sweet cornbread,
rice, beans, pasta, and liver spread.
Undo your belt a notch or two
so one more bite you can chew.
Desserts abound, cookies and cakes,
puddings, custards, tarts, and milk shakes.
Round out the meal with soft ice cream.
Maybe two cones won’t burst a seam.
You leave, with a bloated waist thick,
well-sated, and full as a tick.
crepitus announces itself annoyed
at my impudence as I climb the stairs
it speaks the language of stop, I don't
flatulence trumpets my presence
luckily no one is hear to breathe deep
another dead language of age
the sounds of decomposition make me smile
for even they can fill a blank page
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
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Tick, tock, tick, tock, goes the sound of my clock
I am waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for time to expend
Never have I known time to go so slowly
Exhilarated! The subject of my tormented dreams will appear
Miles separate, but wires, contaminated with the sweet whispers of our lips
Fingers touch keys and memories of silk ignite the flame of passion
O clock on the wall! Why extend my eagerness to be fulfilled
Time! Why is it you seem to stand still, but still
I am waiting, waiting, waiting
My love, please fulfill?
Tick tock
The clock is ticking
And the world is moving
Can you imagine
How fast can the time be
today
Tick tock
My head is ringing
And my problems is stopping
But my ending
Is just a beginning
Today
Tick tock
I am waiting for tomorrow
Unsure of awaiting sorrow
This time I had borrow
Will never return to me
Again
Tick tock
The clock is ticking
And the world is moving
My head is spinning
While I am loosing
My mind
Tick tock, tick tock
You are gone
You are left alone
You won't see me anymore
Tick tock
There is an end of time
There is an end of the day
And that's is the end
Of everything
Tick tock
It's over now..
She closed the door behind her with tears locking
millions of cogs , snapped shut
Clock stopped ticking, tocking
For a moment
I stare, already knowing
The cause of these emotions
She plopped down like a baby born dead
Deceased of vitality
She started healing as soon as i lifted my eyes and smiled
Worried, but calm
Stormy Seas rolled over themselves into an oblivion
Pain written all over
In the lines, between them, in margins
I could put down this piece of paper and pen
Open my mind and let her in
Forever
Listen…
I feel her story without her speaking
I could run my fingers through each page
Slowly easing the binding’s tense lack of elasticity
Closing wounds that have opened again
Your heart will always be safe here
My friend