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!
TickTock on a Rock
There was an elephant stuck on a rock
He had been rockin’ all around the clock
He made a trunk call
The best news of all
He’s found fame doing video TikTok.
* * *
Nellie had finally found fame
On TikTok making her name
Then on Twitter
Became a big hitter
It’s the internet that's to blame.
Written by:John Read
* * *
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Shall the wind blow on tomorrow's eve,
A lethargy you are not to impede.
We hold it dear; yes, so dear.
Two deer?
Why think of deer; No, no dear.
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Do we run the track?
The track outruns us; Yes
Our hands are tied,
Freeing has been tried.
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Twelve hens speak devil's tongue
Eleven are dead having been flung
Tick Tock
It strikes as every minute wastes away
We pray; We pray
Ten times tomorrow and today
Tick Tock Tick Tock
A creature’s box
Nine times both dead and alive
Eight through four spent in misery
Most are the same
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Hours spent for what?
Three meaningless rhythms.
Tick Tock
Perhaps it’s time.
Tick; a click
Tock; a clock
"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
TIME
CLOCK runs TICKING ticktock
Hours passing, none can block.
Every MOMENT is precious.
On path of life be serious.
PRESENT quite prompt to sink in PAST.
Act on tact for works to adjust.
TIME goes INFINITE ETERNAL.
You are just infinitesimal.
07/06/20
'Time- 8 Word Challenge' Contest by A Dear Heart
Ticktock, as the clock counts down time:
the seconds morph into minutes.
Then, the minutes stack up as hours
that accumulate into days,
transforming into weeks, then months.
Tethered to thoughts of forever,
time, transcends the concept of years.
You stand strong and majestically tall
Rich mahogany are colors of your frame
Your face is decorated with numbers in brass
Your heart is sometimes heavy with weights
You smell like aged wood with a touch of lemon
Your voice is heard as musical chimes every hour
Your old antique presence is a delightful addition
Your ticktock rhythms are welcomed sounds
4/20/19
Santa's Appearance
It’s that time of year for Santa to appear,
After Easter searches and Halloween candy.
The clocks ticktock as hearts beat rapidly,
In PJs tucked under the sheets, trying to sleep.
Children lay and hope as eyelids grow heavy,
With their ears attentive, to hear reindeer prancing.
World over peacefully on the eve in dreams,
They dream of opening presents on Christmas morning.
Quietly, Santa enters the house unknown,
Dressed in a red suit with whiskers white as snow.
From a sack of toys, he pulls out Christmas joy,
To put under the tree for girls and boys.
Then, with a quick wink before anyone knows,
He’s up on the rooftop (rosy cheeks and nose)
And jumps into his sled and off he goes.
With a belly full of chuckles, “HO! HO! HO!”
I feel the clock
as it begins to unwind
Tick tock, tick tock
another second behind
Springs and sprockets
intricately interconnected
Tick talk, tick t a l k
My slow down unexpected
Pendulum swinging
from side to side
Ticktock,ticktock
Not swinging nearly as wide
The Cuckoo is coming
It will stick out it’s head
Tick tock, tick talk
I can’t remember what I said
Ding dong, ding dong
The chimes are ringing
Tick tock, tock tock
What will time be bringing?
The hands keep moving
around the round face
Tick tock, tick tock
Connecting me to this place!
I search for the key
can this clock be rewound?
Tick tick, talk stick
It’s nowhere to be found......
It always seems to be this way
my relationships just don’t last
time seems to be runnin’ out
and my clock is tickin’ fast
I’ve been reckless with the quickies
I’ve played the mistress too
what’s a single mom past forty
want a man to do
I want someone to cherish me
caress me with respect
not always tryin’ to figure out
how to put my mind in check
Forget the empty promises
I deserve a committin’ man
don’t fly by here to see me
if you don’t intend to land
I’ve got a lot of love to give
perhaps I give too much
just to feel companionship
of a good man’s mental touch
Maybe it’s time to end the search
stop giving out my heart
turn a deaf ear to the ticks
and love me as a start
Praying for the kind of love
my heart and mind deserves
send the man I still dream of
the one God has reserved
~Caffeine Blues~
(Nonet)
I look at the clock and it is late
Time to wake up and start new day
Ticktock ticktock hear the clock
Try to keep eyes open
But can not do it
Need that coffee
Very bad to
Get up
Now
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
November.05.2015
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
Classically gray day
pre Spring trees
cast in silouhette.
Sitting in shadow
side by side
behind the wall,
one of them
puts right
hand above left
knee of the other,
slides palm slowly up.
Heartbeats. Ticktock breath.
Feels flesh soften,
moisten, smooth.
One looks ahead.
The other eyes over,
downward. A parting of thighs.
Future waits.
Mysteries near solving.
It takes all the time
But never seize to restart
I’m reminded by continuality
Even though it outstretches the thought
And here comes astonishment
When a halt is put on course
Then it looms and decorates the face
Uncertainty prowls closer
How weak we judge when to act
Every last one abide to pay
The time loan given from start
And last straws will be drawn
When ticktock fades away
Oh death knell takes a pose
And seraph plays a part to make us glad
The road is numbered with a calling.
But i wonder when we all wear out
And deplete with the egg we dwell in
Then we think again
Does time really make sense?
Or is life just a bully we must accept?
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
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