Clock Poems - Poems about Clock

An alarm clock. On the edge of the nightstand. No one came after me the whole night. Except the skin of my thoughts. Shaking but nothing. It’s like I woke up and ate gravity and passed out again. It’s all about time. Wrappers crinkling underfoot. More and more trash scattered. Warping. The sound of the garbage...

Continue reading...

Beddy bye beddy bye cuddled up in here I lie Tickity tickity tock-tock goes the alarm clock With a blanky on my tummy I feel kinda' woozy Dingy dingy dong-dong, anka wanka I am cozy Beddy bye beddy bye think I'll sleep til' noonzy! ...

Continue reading...

Nature is calling, your hips swaying. A light snowfall takes place in a winter breeze. The footprints of a doe and her fawn grace the land in fragments. Broken bits of grass poke out from where they were last seen, in brown, sticky patches. A moose, a rabbit, a raccoon— resting, rejuvenating, saving their strength. Birds chirp, wolves howl. I close my eyes and know I’ve made it. Did you make it to Italy, sparrow? For I am yet to make...

Continue reading...

Sixty seconds is a minute sixty minutes makes an hour We all Iive our life by the time Why has Time go so much power We set an alarm clock to wake us from our peaceful sleep We look at our clocks when we are late and have an appointment to keep We cook our food with...

Continue reading...

It was in the morning When I heard him snoring Like loud like a lion He who falls from my eyes Every sense feeling nonsense Early lights in goosebumps Served myself a red riddle Leaving me tortured and energetic Shooting my lungs to no air My kidneys helped me breathe Each cough counting complaints In a peaceful war against the...

Continue reading...

I found this on a You Tube Christian podcast: An elderly woman, when she was 66 years old, became critically sick for two years and was abandoned by all but not by our God! Friends and family members were totally worn out from taking care of her and not because a lack of their compassion. They found...

Continue reading...

Already the morning is full of momentum and is beginning to crash through the defences, leaving pieces scattered behind. There are always broken things left in the wake of time. Take that Mickey Mouse clock for example with the snapped spring and missing hand, the toy truck with the bent and rusted out trailer, the football with its perished bladder. You would gather up all the broken...

Continue reading...

I’m bound to a bowl of rusted paint. Why don’t they relate to my disabled state? Is it the way I row the boat? Or is it the way I carry cows and goats? I will faint, And they will pray. But someday…I’ll say, I won’t duck into their pepper spray. Cauce, I know the way to Heaven’s gate. I’m stuck in a fate...

Continue reading...

i was a clock. not flashy, not loud. just mine. time passed the way i let it— slow, careful, soft. each tick a heartbeat. each hour a boundary. then he came. not with kindness, not with care— with want. with hands like force, like he thought time would bend if he pushed hard enough. he didn’t ask what hour i was in. he didn’t care that i wasn’t ready. he took...

Continue reading...

12 11 | ...

Continue reading...

Time — a ticking bomb that will one day fall silent, with no remorse for your unfinished business. You can try to delay your time, but it will only make the silence louder. In your final hours, you may finally realize how green the trees were, how smooth the water flowed. Just then, you’ll long to see your first blade of grass...

Continue reading...

The grandfather clock A grandfather clock sat in pride of place in my childhood home I would sit at its base and watch the magical movements of the pendulum I would talk to the clock as if were a close friend As I grew older our friendship continued One evening I tossed and turned in bed, sleep eluded tonight laying there...

Continue reading...

Still a child at heart tho' older are some other parts and only for a lark back to my childhood here I hark I remember a rhyme in the far reaches of my mind hickory dickory dock the mice ran up the clock the clock struck one the mouse fell down luckily the plucky other ducked shucked and jived escaped survived got out alive and ran away to live another...

Continue reading...

I am no longer of use. That much is clear. They pass me by like I’m furniture— just another shape gathering dust in the corner of the kitchen where light rarely lands. My face, once proud, is smudged now— not by time, but by its absence. I used to hold their mornings together: 6:45, the hiss of the kettle. 7:02, cereal spiraling into bowls. 7:58, the door slammed...

Continue reading...

Burning the midnight oil while writing this poem one line at a time looking for reason searching for meaning making words scan and having them rhyme consider the hands of a clock as around the dial they rotate some arrive early (tick-tock tick-tock) others come in late one is fast the other slow round and round and round they go observe this strange conundrum it's a paradox...

Continue reading...