I map the vision, chase the need,
Between the lines, I plant the seed.
From stakeholders to strategy,
I am the bridge - that's BA me!
(chorus)
We ask, we link, we write it clear,
Align the goals, wipe out the fear.
No cape, no code, but still we thrive -
Business Analysts keep dreams alive!
Align with teams, architecture too,
Assumptions challenge 'till they are true.
Deadlines loom, the scope may sprawl -
But here we are, who see it all.
If Harris chooses to have beer,
They hoist a message more than mere,
It’s like October Fest
In November, no haste!
Sails rudderless poll boat,
Who knows how people vote?
Guesses gallop, go in top gear.
_____________________
Tongue-in-cheek |10.10.2024| humour, political
Poet’s note: Kamala Harris in a media blitzkrieg on late night TV chooses to down a folksy beer to ‘send a masculine oriented message’ (in competition with Trump?). And poll analysts go in a top gear to derive its impact on Nov election results in US of America. So much focus, so much significance of that one can of beer!
AH! POLICY ...
Politicians mock politicians
Democracy groans every day
and the people vote without thinking!
WEATHER FORECASTS
Rain comes, heat stifles,
unpredictable phenomena
predictions always fail
ON THE MARKET ON THE STOCK EXCHANGE
On the market, on the stock exchange
despair, euphoria... analysts
They only get it right when they get it wrong...!
OVERVIEW OF FAITH
Hanging by a thread
surviving hard times
balancing on a tightrope!
P E T S
House animals
pure, innocent happiness
happiness goes viral with them
HAPPINESS !
When we are lost
the greatest happiness consists
find our way back!
OH IF IT WERE POSSIBLE!
How extraordinary it would be!
how wonderful it would be,
old be young again!
They sung for the Lord in the synagogues
Raising mixed feelings to the music analysts
Voices mattered less, the message more precious
Preached his word in the land
The sacrifices they made to secure life!
In moments of trial, they testified of his goodness
Seeking his comfort when times were darker
Faith led their ways, hope guided their motives;
God was good in the old days,
He still was good in their days, resistant to change
He would forever be good!
Unmoved by threats, ready to battle for him,
The victory, he would grant them
Eternal peace was their prize,
So they bowed to human destruction,
Holding their flags firmly still.
Passionate watcher of Female Football:
A voice shrill pitched high in the viewing hall;
Others should here and now spot its credits!
He's been spending rich words on its merits.
"Good female striker can beat the Bad Male
And just be sure of it - it's no blackmail."
But he has, too, pictures of its lapses:
Not that the Female Defender collapses,
Rather, a sport with no pity for the waist
And should a woman feel free to waist waste?
From opening whistle to final whistle
Man's Helper freely takes up Male Wrestle:
Neat mimicry of male temperament
Sports Analysts don't touch in their comment.
Perfect use of all parts of the body!
One keeps gazing at it: worthwhile study.
Fearless ones trap the ball with their chests
While to the eyes it just landed on breasts!
Long in it, problems of magnetism:
She can't proudly discuss feminism!
A Copernican change - analysts say,
Or a paradigm shift;
Progression has gone a long way,
With daydreams drift...!
The revolution that had once begun,
With the wheel long ago;
Has rolled on with stun, spun, and fun,
Now to aglow...!
I could not believe it when I did touch
The smart touch phone wonder;
Mystery in it I felt much,
Like calm thunder...!
Communication, like spring buds and blooms,
Fervor-fresh and fragrant;
Forever new finale fumes,
Like a vagrant...!
Computer? Who cares? Wheel? Oh! No! Grown old!
Enjoy a small apple;
In the form of tablets, handsets,
Till you grapple...!
We go on; Our kids too; like birds and beasts
In old woods with new trade;
Our minds leavened by newness-yeasts,
Like lilies fade...!!!
25 December 2022
Writing Challenge - Zip, Zig, Zag, Zing Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I was about nine when I got Rusty, a brown and white bundle with a black saddle; a beagle with a happy-go-lucky spirit and a soul of pure gold. He wasn’t quite like old Snoopy, Charlie Brown’s beagle though he did have a lot of bird friends. Through summer days, we wrestled and played, I’d toss a stick and he’d bring it my way; he didn’t quite get it that he had to let go, so I could throw it again. I’ve had so many pets since Rusty’s passing; all of them special in their own way; I have been blessed.
dog
is God spelled backwards –
love
Rusty was pure love in a bundle of fur; the best friend I had in those days as, my human best friend had moved away; I could always rely on Rusty to take up the slack.
animals are
emotional life support –
analysts
Olodumare crowned you,
Like the daring obas of old,
Undaunted and unshakable,
With hearts sculpted out of gold,
Ase and oro were their best friends,
Dangerous yet mellow,
Empathetic and in-depth analysts,
Meekfaced like the proverbial lamb,
In all they were the brave ones,
Laying aside their troubles and ills,
Alase ekeji orisa they were called,
Due to their daring feats,
Eki Oba Alase.
Did I learn a worthy trade? Study war as a warrior?
Was I a helper, a first responder,
nurse, nanny, priest, pumpkin farmer,
a horny handed laborer,
did I lecture nitwit’s on the liberal arts or economics?
None of the above.
Yet I claim the kinship of all these,
my esteemed traveling companion:
Master Walt Whitman agrees.
I extol all of you America! All scoundrels,
wasters, longshoremen, coopers, sail makers,
beef butchers, mechanics, farriers, truckers,
tech analysts, grocers, grifters and daytime hookers.
I offer all of you my theoretical talents
and apply them generously to you,
the heaving throngs, and huddled masses.
Praise be and glory to all impractical scribblers,
liars, disgraced philosophers, tricksters, and drunks.
We poets celebrate ourselves,
save the world for ourselves alone,
warn of the terrible dire in the good,
the terrible good in the dire, while distrusting both,
yet still and all, disliking our own works
even more.
Priest Has Great Looking Hair
Hair looked great when Priest used dryer,
He has become known as prudent pacifier;
With long feet;
Voice so sweet;
Loved choir while wearing their attire.
Choir Never Liked Their Attire
Choir never did like their attire though,
And into trash they would rather throw;
Appearance poor,
And want no more,
While saying that God had told them so.
Disaster Did Strike In the Valley
A religious revival had become a rally;
Choir went on strike so we took a tally,
And lost count,
Of the amount;
Badly sang so buried them in the valley.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Choir members said that vestments made
them look like Baptists who were catalyst
for being abundant Episcopalian analysts.
I remember when
we asked about the quality of schools
before buying a house.
Now we know,
whether house shopping or not,
the educational outcomes will not be good
however better some than most,
yet now we need to ask about the quality of the local police department
before selecting a house
where they might prefer battering rams to open doors
over a more civil knock,
might prefer shooting to asking questions.
I remember when
we asked how liberating from wars
and violence
and oppression
our political candidates could imagine
and rhetorically explicate,
hope to promise.
Now we too seldom hope
for such vision of lofty and deeply rich heights,
and we need to ask the Government Economic Analysts
how many more will lose basic health and safety care-receiving,
because we cannot choose to care for all
in the latest version
of the virulently fascist anti-health bill.
Destructive and Abusing
His distinction is
Being destructive, and then
Others abusing.
Would like to see the results
of an MMPI on Trump along
with income tax results. Or,
is afraid of all the insults.
Jim Horn
This is what I am hearing from
analysts on TV. Fake news is
not helping either. He has a
label for everything. Kelly Ann
is also another example of lying.
Where will it all ever end?
Brexit and other Breaks
This has been a great day for reporters they
have been feasting on Brexit squeezing the last drop
of misery like a dish cloth, and the channels have
been repeating themselves and stealing each
others clichés and one wonders is there still a war
in the Middle East.
Tomorrow is the day of the analysts and academics
they will explain for us the reason why Britain left EU
like we didn`t know
if you ignore the wishes
of the common man if you think everything is about
money and not the dignity and culture, this breakup
will happen in many countries.
Bureaucrats have charts showing voting pattering how
interesting an exercise in futility.
You let down the working man and forgot democracy is
a double-edged sword, and I say: damn you all because
your negligence has left a hole for demagogues to fill.
I do not like the atheists and the pagans
Nor the slutty politicians or butterfly political analysts
With the religious people whom I now hate to talk with
I could give you all the reasons one by one
But I do not care the whole world
I do not see films or listen to songs as such
If the concerned people do not care me, too
And do not read my poems
I would not be a sad man
As I have alreaday left them in the lurch
It does not mean I am alone
And face the wolves of loneliness
Here I am with my darling
On the bank of my life playing with my mind in solitude.
1.Virtue does not-kill; committing
yields other sins.
2.Sharing, guarding, available bread,
succeeds collected wisdom.
3.Better not-slaying first,unique
truthfulness comes next.
4.Holy-books’ right path, unthinking
virtuous not-kill beings.
5.Among feared renounced, fearing
not-killing is supreme.
6.Devouring-death uncross life-days of
followers of not-killing.
7.Never kill to save
thy loose life.
8.Slaying some one gainful
wise earning scornful.
9.Analysts of slaying reward
all slayers worthless.
10.Wise recognize slayers by
sicky soreful look.
…………………………………
Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31B.C), the author in Tamil
Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU, INDIA
Published in poetrysoup.com on 15-12-13
Related Poems