Clocks Poems

Clocks poems bring the best collection of short and long clocks poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great clocks rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these clocks poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on clocks are here for you.

The Clock Guy

The Clock Guy prose poem

There once Lived a man named Mr McDocks, he loved one thing and THAT thing was clocks. He fixed them and sold them; he had his own shop, he treasured them always; it JUST wouldn’t stop. He had watches, grandfathers

Poems containing references to : Clocks

Cartographers of Consciousness

Cartographers of Consciousness long poem

The train has already departed, From the country that they call yesterday, Into the territories uncharted, Leaving behind the remains of the day. Leaving behind the sobbing hills and churches, And nurseries full of sighing, And forests of ashen pines

I can’t name things

I can’t name things short poem

I can’t name things. I can’t tell, with some mighty confidence, this is this or that is that. You tell me of love. but, I have known too many loves. blue love, green love, red love, even yellow love. I

Funeral Of The Lamp

Funeral Of The Lamp long poem

I can’t imagine the world without you my friend My dearest snow-hued table lamp My universe is literally pitch-black without your glow I really can’t bear to let you go Thank you for being my best mate for 11 years

State Of Birth

State Of Birth prose poem

M portrays my feeling of MISSING something that I never had, and could never see; The feeling that people were always MOVING away from me; The feeling that MONEY would never come my way, but only flee. I is for

One Hundred Moons

One Hundred Moons short poem

On the battle turfs of a vernacular hunger, the hikes were killing the uncertain values. Committing suicide was a regular feature. To pay off the debts of a flag. By using pesticides on unsuspecting guests of tomorrow. The clocks were

Rise To The Occasion

Rise To The Occasion short poem

When people like troubled flock, From next door or around the block, Come crashing on the rocks When hard times come Flashing alarms on their clocks, But their opportunity doesn’t knock Will you be there for them, to confide? Or

Broken Dam

Broken Dam short poem

Let’s not go, let’s not reach anywhere. The toenails have started digging in the earth, to make peace with the distress response of the bruised hunger for transactional surrender. And the surrogate mother will abandon the child for the father

Alone

Alone short poem

as the dawn breaks through the skies and through the clouds, somewhere a flower wakes up, somewhere a bird calls and calls, in some house, a mother sings, raising the children and gods, the boys and girls stand everywhere, brushing,

The Changing Color Of Hydrangeas

The Changing Color Of Hydrangeas long poem

It happens every time when it rains in the backstreets you can feel through the rhythm of pending death the blood pulse in your ears an echo in a seashell your life staggering like a ballet dancer on a wire

Lupercalia

Lupercalia short poem

Bubblegum balloons, mechanical clocks, counting frames with beads, letters on perfumed paper, furry toys for kittens, chocolate, Santa Claus, giraffe stamps, thistle ponchos, black pirate eyeglasses, stickers with phosphorescent hearts, terracotta ocarinas, rainbow lollipops… back then it was silence when

Scenes From A European Movie

Scenes From A European Movie short poem

SCENES FROM A EUROPEAN MOVIE (OR THE ETHICAL EQUATIONS POSED BY PAUL KLEE DANCING WITH A GERMAN SHEPHERD) “Art makes visible the unseen” – Paul Klee Along the edge of the Gothic archway, starlings disturb the air, only slightly. Its

Mania

Mania short poem

Keep the paper blank, do not write anything new. Words were abducted earlier also Let the truth speak from the folds of dying clocks. Fauns were searching the human abodes for fake currency of truth. There was no method in

Wounded Dance

Wounded Dance short poem

A rock becomes a philosopher. Refuses to move looking at the stars. Rogue shirts were walking on the clouds of unknowing. I wanted to remove all the clocks. Who was stealing the water? Secret of life? Impiety had undone the

Epochs

Epochs prose poem

Epochs// (1) Sometimes, time does interchange. But my grandma, who’d moved from her poor house to live inside my skull, is still throwing seven stones at the cellular phone, wakes me up each time a light emerges from the end

A Small Time

A Small Time prose poem

When I was a little boy, I used to run up to the end of the earthen road and run back homeward; in my hand an open-lipped astonished fig berry, a few apricot stones and some body-scars. At those days,

Remembering Adam!

Remembering Adam! short poem

No cure seems to work. Between absurd and wise, Lone he walks. It is a note on the timidness of a star, which couldn’t come near the earth. On the slope of a crater, a boulder stopped it. No laughter

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Sweet Angel

Sweet Angel short poem

How could someone like you? Ever love someone like me… Well you must be an Angel A miracle sent to me from Heaven above as hard as it Is to believe, just when I had All but given up on

War

War short poem

It is a real fact, War is nothing but a foolish act. A bitter and waste of life war lays. That must say, war pays only grudge and strife. What a helplessness, all feel, what a dark day is seen

North wind

North wind short poem

Oh north wind I can feel you again cause I am a gypsy at heart, take me away this year to a place where people smile where there is no one senile, there is youth and there is hope take

The Walk

The Walk short poem

I can say without a doubt that you did not simply follow others you made your own path though it was and is hard one of those untrodden trails where every rock twists your joints and leads nowhere but up

My Grandmother

My Grandmother ode

My grandmother is truly grand to the letter unique in every way, she made me better My grandmother brought me out of the cold delicate strong woman, she made me bold My grandmother is a masterpiece all year round in

Color Change

Color Change short poem

from known to known fear moves in a circle, like a cheetah; a jounery starts from shivers to shivers – when it was pouring the taste of sting ascending loosening beside between the lips a word strieks, terror spills from

Farewell song

Farewell song short poem

For long, we lived in our hearts ignoring the world. but now, the knocks have got louder and our hearts have grown heavier. you go your way, my love, I will find mine. for long, we lay under trees, holding

Chameleon

Chameleon short poem

I am a chameleon Changing colors from place to place and person to person At the streets I walk navy blue, Holding back, Thinking before I act, Avoiding embarrassment. At the seaside I step on the grass As a happy,

Cycle Of Life

Cycle Of Life long poem

I don’t know what life is all about But I do know Life is bits and pieces I knew not how I spent the infant days I do have a dreamy sketch of my childhood I have realised how awkward

My Life In A Den

My Life In A Den short poem

A shriek of dread I gave out as I woke up from my slumber in a den, not a heaven, but another cosmos of fairy beasts, birds and beings among whom nothing resembled my mother in whose laps I dozed

Swan Song

Swan Song short poem

The toppled gravestones, I still count the heads. I will go with your swan song, the bond erupts. You were always sitting under the bougainvillea, waiting for the swallow. The next door summer arrives; Why did you say, it was

This Must Be What They Call Pain!

This Must Be What They Call Pain! short poem

Am I alive? Is this a dream? Won’t I ever wake? Will I forever scream? The mind says, but my eyes don’t see, My soul wanders like a flowerless bee. Each step I take amongst the endless waste, Minefields of

Pasta Rap

Pasta Rap short poem

As I taste my pasta wrap I write a song which you can rap!! Wrapping up my tasty wrap Yummy tasty pasta wrap When I am hungry I love to eat It doubles up as a delicious treat Onions carrots

The Coldest Yet

The Coldest Yet short poem

That’s the coldest yet, the words on my father’s lips, each night from October to spring, as he stood at the back door shaking the East Belfast rain off his coat, and stamping the mud off his Shipyard boots, before

A Divine Chime Of Prime Sublime Times

A Divine Chime Of Prime Sublime Times long poem

A look past the glass I can see my past Now freed from the disbelieve One can start to relive Though what can I gain? Still I am in pain Maybe with just a wish I’d change my accomplished dish

Ghost And My Girlfriend

Ghost And My Girlfriend long poem

Ghost and my girlfriend: She came closer and closer Just a millimetre away Her lips were from mine And the moment Was greater than fine I wanted to tell her my feelings Especially from last few days To disclose the

Duality

Duality short poem

Have you tasted the silk in the pit of snakes? Exit was not in my fate. Winter was kissing my toes and spring was blooming down in my estranged poems. You don’t feel like to wake up for ingrained disbelief.

In The Quiet Of The Night

In The Quiet Of The Night short poem

In the quiet of the night they sleep so lost and unaware of time and place and who they are life can be unfair their days once filled with work and play with love and all it’s thrills is now

Little Lady

Little Lady long poem

Little lady only 13. Never pretty enough but smart as can be. No friends just books. Mom overworked so no dinner just lonely. She was bullied for years: isolated in insecurity, abandonment, and unhappiness until she was 17. Senior year

Succumb, Glutton

Succumb, Glutton long poem

A hesitant day for fat men and old women moving cautious but still slamming out the door and like infidels calling down a brace of ice spears exposed necks and those rounded shoulders so tender overloaded bodies knocked down stunned

Bottled Tears

Bottled Tears prose poem

If hope were mystical and only available for this present and earthly life, I would think my future to be cloudy and dark, not sunny and bright If hope were in a constant state of deferral I think my heart

New Generation

New Generation short poem

One’s existence was threatened by the overseeing iguana like crested disguise. Repressive, explosive eyes. You are trapped in words beneath bewitching smile. The ‘V’ sign for violence becomes more obvious. That hits you in face. The eastern wind is blowing.

Seeing The Happiness Of Souls

Seeing The Happiness Of Souls short poem

Bodies die of getting envious, seeing the happiness of souls; the souls seem to lead the flowery life of fairies. Seeing it, bodies spread the sighs of hell into their eyes, lips and faces. Their two souls, as it were,