Long Ticktock Poems
Long Ticktock Poems. Below are the most popular long Ticktock by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ticktock poems by poem length and keyword.
Teresa!?!
~Tanner!
Terribly
Tardy?
Ticktock ;)
~Time?
T-minus
10
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
2
*
12:00am!
~2020!!!
2020!!!
Tequila
Toast!
~Tequilla
Toast—
To
2020!!!
To
2020!!!
~Terviseks!
Terviseks!
~Tasty :)
Tequilla
Tesoro
~Tesoro?
Translated
"Treasure"
~Tasty
Treasure ;)
Top-notch!
~Tip-top!
(tender
touch...)
~Terrific
Timing :)
Terrific
Time...
~Totally
Thoughts?
~Tired
Terrible
Timing :(
~Terribly
Tuckered.
Together
Tonight?
~Together
Tomorrow?
Together
Today!
12:00pm :)
~That's
True!
Today,
12:00pm :)
Terrific!
~Till
Then—
Tootles!
***
01/18/2020
Poetry form: Alliteration - Each poem in my Alliterative Alphabet Series describes conversations between two or more people while only using words that start with or sound like the first letter of the title of the poem. I’m publishing the poems as I write them on Wattpad.com, not necessarily in alphabetical order. My goal is to write at least 26 poems to cover each letter of the alphabet. I hope you find the concept interesting, maybe even clever. Most of all I hope you enjoy them :)
Disclaimer: This poem is fictional and does not depict any actual person or event. The names used are ficticious and were chosen to satisfy the requirements of the poetry form.
Lie to men, but not to God,
I'm sorry for those I'll hurt,
For this is what I must write,
I'm not writing because I'm holier than thou,
Neither am I better than thou.
I know I'm better than nothing.
Lie to men, but not to God,
You call yourself Christians,
Ready to go to heaven,
Just because you go to church,
Every Sunday ushering in church members,
In every mass you are the altar boy.
Lie to men, but not to God,
You crucify others,
That they do not go to church,
They are always in the pubs,
Drinking and taking the roles.
You crucify them,
Isolating yourselves, at times quarantining,
Didn't Jesus associate with them?
Lie to men but not to God,
In the village and the streets,
Fornication and adultery,
The clergy eating from their flock.
Is sin better than sin,
Every church going day you go,
Well and good I appreciate,
But can you recall the last sermon?
In your phone using the church WIFI,
WhatsApping and facebooking,
From Twitter to Instagram,
From Ticktock to the pornhub
I tell you again,
Lie to men but not to God.
I have no apology for this,
Love me or hate me,
You say you are a church girl.
From Monday to Saturday,
In your bootyshort and bikinis,
Yes we appreciate the fashion,
On a Sunday a dera to church,
Your body is the temple of God, remember
Lue to men but not to God.
Your neighbor dying of hunger,
Your store full of foodstuffs,
At times going bad,
An ardent Christian you claim,
Quoting verses and even chapters
Where do you practice your words?
It's preaching water but taking wine.
Lie to men but no to God.
I see no heaven, I see no paradise,
All have sinned and fallen short of glory,
Forgive us God remember we're your children.
Forgive me more, for I have done my part,
From the talent you gave me I speak to the masses,
Even the deaf I speak to them,
Even to the stones I'll speak.
Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk.
Is merely the folding of the shower curtain that snaps the righteous peg. Sending jasmine smells at nine in the morning to refresh the house and it's occupants. Living in a dishcloth is very very clever and a mild climate is useful for a mountain trek. When arriving in a house with white stools attempt to hide in a plastic bowl with painted goldfish. As pretty patterns are preferable to a protruding tooth. Yet kissing and caressing is marvellously relaxing upon energy beams. Emery boards are closet format for elongated legs in shirts. While entertaining the many manufactured people who sit and stand in lines and formations of great magnitude. Would one really attempt to deliver rum to a large laughing cavernous mouth. No surely not. That would be unwise as harpooning a few snails is not great for the circles of biological breath. One must breathe the fauna to taste the life. And always sink harmoniously in the realms of tree trunks as bases are often useful places to begin an orderly journey. Wow such prevalence. Wow what a pleasantly pleasing place. Pigs play in mud. And plants grin at snouts. Misted of times. Mists of a new day. Dawn of a new era in a sealed envelope. Trample. Trampled. Traverse. Tailored. Ticktock. Ticket. Ostriches officially organised organically ordered onions and a pretty doe smiles in breezes whilst a seal sings a goat plays structured but freeform tunes a pig does a rapidly whirling chicken dance and a brilliantly bathed baboon bakes and breathes brethren bringing back basic breaths. Rapids in a curry. Coriander plants. Rewiring of vastly increasing numbers. Dome cakes. Done domes drop domesticated dim don delivery deletion. Xx secretion. Love to the known. Xx
Form:
The Apple of His Eyes
reflected in the pond, the fruit
held precious in the lady’s hand.
polished by mistake; the loot
gathered with a serpentine backhand.
the limbs of oz took hold, as
the man held out his unwise hand.
the cleaved, in juicy bite pizazz,
forsook their love, served up bland.
reflected in the mirror, the duo’s tears
shattered their perfect life, untouched.
day after day, the wrinkles rage; fears
of losing one another; their hearts’ clutched.
discovery of their nakedness, a shock.
they tried to cover up with leaves of fig;
not good enough. Like a bomb, time’s ticktock.
God slaughtered, clothed them with a sacrifice, not a sprig.
apple looked so luscious, and to have knowledge
seemed so precious; Adam and Eve drew a curtain
between themselves and the Creator (his foreknowledge).
Every other fruit, not denied; with a bite death was certain.
Indeed, their eyes were opened, to shame, shamelessly.
Terror of the darkness, made their pupils expand.
But they couldn’t take paradise back. Carelessly
they acted recklessly, now all generations in bad land.
Oh, but the LOVE of GOD, all seeds are the apple
of His eyes. We don’t understand the suffering.
Whys in abundance, feeling sorry for ourselves chapel.
All along a plan - of scourge, betrayal, and crucified buffering.
To justify, to mediate, to keep us from the Father’s wrath,
the Son of Man, descended from heaven; a babe in flesh.
Look at the bronze snake on the tree, the sign, His path.
Healing symbolized, realized by the final sacrifice thresh.
I listen to the sound of the clock on the wall
tic tock, tic tock and my spirit began to grow tall
the winding road that connects the village to the sea
Is calling me to keep its company,
the trees are standing in line and
and destiny is running all over the vine
the river will crest soon and the multitude
will gather at noon and the skies will turn blue
come and walk with me under the old oak tree
and gather the wall nuts form the ground
and give to the people in the town and crack the shell
Meet me at a quarter to six by the old oak tree
I have an important message to tell thee
The cook and the book is in the Pentateuch
And memory of the offering is in Jonn Baptist
platter and the golden trimming is next to the
silver lining and there you will find the reserve
rhythm to catapult you to the top and the exodus
will move with you so that your dreams can come true
I can hear the music floating in the air and
the day of reckoning is finally here reality is chiming in
and I have composed a brand-new hymn
The lyrics are new, and the content will tell you what to do
Everything around is cold and dim, so I closed my
eyes and start to sing, the sound in the clock get louder
ticktock tic tock and the message is clear for you to
meet me there; meet me at a quarter to six under
the old oak tree and set my spirit.
I’m gunna love you forever, that’s just my curse.
I need to hear your voice.
Are you the answer; I dwell in the dark places.
I lived a thousand lives but I’m still searching.
I’m hoping that there comes a day when you’re by my side.
I’m in a fleshy tomb buried up above the ground.
The killer in me is the killer in you; my love, I send this smile over to you.
Laughter’s the best medicine and smiles ease the pain.
I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real.
Ticktock, hear my life pass by.
I’m a mess for your love, it ain’t new.
We’re living different lives, heaven only knows.
Scared to sleep, scared to wake up and face the day.
Life was meant to be broken, doomed you from the start.
The taste of love is sweet when hearts like ours meet.
I’m gunna start a fire, you’re gunna feel the heat; I’m gunna burn for you, you’re going to melt for me.
If you come knocking late at night.
Now I’m feeling like it’s over.
A blue black shade of love sent from above.
It’s always tease, tease, tease, you’re happy when I’m on my knees.
I’m in all white, like the in 80s.
You’re pulling me in, pushing me out, wanting me back then letting me down..
Hands up and touch the sky.
Paint me black, cover me up again.
No plan B, this is do or die.
Tik Tok
Clock is ticking for TikTok
under scrutiny due to data privacy violations,
mental health concerns, misinformation,
offensive content, and its role during the Israel–Hamas war.
—To Ban Or Not?
—World Warning
—Bring on propaganda
—China’s spy
Global investors —FBI
Campaign dependent target
Smartphone app hosts user-vids
user data collection by the Chinese government through ByteDance.
__Generation influence
—dance move platform
—Détente chaos
—70’ssSS
TickTock Times up!
On Halloween just around midnight
an eerie sound filled the night.
As a clock nearby chimed out the hour,
she prayed for daylight to a higher power.
That morning, on a mission that couldn't wait,
she gulped her coffee and cleaned her plate,
grabbed a lantern and climbed the stair
to the attic, if she dare.
Cobwebs and dust did abound.
For years no one had been around
but this is from where came that sound;
The source of it must be found.
She knew what she was looking for;
She packed it away years before.
As she unwrapped many a treasure,
one, in particular, gave her pleasure.
She found it sitting behind a box
and sure enough, she heard ticktock.
Alive again was grandmother's clock
but now a mystery to unlock.
When she was little, she'd wind the spring
which kept the old clock running
but who had wound the spring this time
that caused the clock to midnight chime?
Could grandmother have visited that night
to wind the clock and set it right?
It's the only answer that came into her head.
After all, Halloween is a day of the dead.
October 17, 2015
Upon the jagged rock,
Where cloven hooves did trot.
A maiden clothed in dock,
Thought life was meant for naught.
Adorned in nature's frock,
Awaiting wind's onslaught.
Ticktock, ticktock, the clock
She dreamed of love a lot.
From China to Bangkok,
Wind brought the storms mascot.
He wished, that young warlock.
The devil's charms besought.
Two footprints stomped bedrock
Where, dreams remained bethought.
Beneath the black nighthawk,
The maiden heard gunshot.
The hunter drank cognac.
He passed through a sandlot.
Then, met that old warlock.
Good luck was all he sought.
The devil owned the rock.
The maiden's hope was naught.
The hunter could not talk.
The wind's good luck was wrought.
Within the storms airlock,
Those two with Satan fought.
The hawk began to squawk.
The hunter luck was bought.
Then came the storms windsock.
To waft the dreams besought.
Where love, its coursers walk.
Her wish was finally wrought.
© May 29, 2011
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Jack OUT of the Box
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzy
"Time is the thief you cannot banish."
Phyllis McGinley, Writer, 1905 - 1978
Oh, thief of life- your robber name is Time;
you never blink or take a simple pause.
Through Spring and Summer, Fall, and Wintertime,
this endless movement has no glitches, flaws.
If only we could change your ticktock laws-
slow down warp speed to stretch our days and years;
extend each moment's joy before it veers.
The time from birth to death short-changes life;
take pity on your passengers' true fears.
Oh, thief of life- please let half-times run rife.
November 13, 2020
~1st Place~
Contest: All Yours (Jun 1)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 06/01/2021
~1st Place~
Contest: Writing Challenge- Quote Inspired
Sponsor: Constance La France
Judged: 11/14/2020
10 Syllables Per Line
Rhyme: a b a b b c c d c d