Best 60 Minutes Poems
Time an eternity sigh
Take good care of the minutes
The hour is 60 minutes
Time when it's not too late
Take some quiet time to be happy
Time is the most precious thing we have
Time does not heal all wounds, but the pain subsides
Times are what we make of it
Time is not a thief, it's a gift for you and me
Time to remember, live for today
The time to hope for tomorrow
Things we wish we had done yesterday
Time is our best friend and our worst enemy
Time for laughter, tears, love and a hug
Time is a symbol of all that exists
...... A symbol of all that we have
13.10.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Categories:
60 minutes, life, time,
Form:
Light Verse
Ms Flip-Flop, busted for plagiarism in her co-authored book in 2008 stealing texts almost verbatim from Wikipedia and other sources.
But the media still run cover for her.
Also plagiarised was a story she told of a childhood memory about when she was a child during the civil rights movement. Only problem is that she stole it from an interview that Martin Luther King gave in 1965.
But the media still run cover for her.
She hasn’t done a press conference in 87 days since she became the nominee because her handlers are terrified of her word salads. Like Joe, she can only speak from a prepared script.
But the media still run cover for her.
The media don’t fact check her because she’s one of them - a gigglin’ woke Trump deranged puppet of the radical left.
That’s why media run cover for her.
60 Minutes got caught editing her answers to make her seem intelligible to voters and are refusing to release the transcript of the interview. That’s election interference.
And so the media will do everything they can to get her elected.
You really think Putin and Xi and all the other dictators and despots of this world are scared of Kamala? You think Iran and Hezbollah and Hamas are shaking in their boots at the prospect of a Kamala presidency?
It’s Trump they fear!
You’ve been gaslit for long enough…vote wisely and vote often (just kidding, we don’t want a repeat of 2020).
Categories:
60 minutes, america, political, truth,
Form:
Political Verse
sometimes i feel like my life is a clock
i am programmed to behave like a robot
my mind ticks along with the little hand of an analog clock as i tell myself who to be
at 6 am i am weighing the pros and cons of faking another sick day to stay home and fill my day with poetry and sleep, but by 7 am i have transformed into an eager and lively girl who can’t wait for what the day holds
within the hours to come i undergo small changes of becoming more bitter and withdrawn
at 12 pm my patience begins to cease and my excitement is a flickering candle light in a windy storm
as the day continues i talk less and less and my forehead begins to crease as the weights on my eyes grow heavier and heavier
at 3 pm i allow my thoughts to drift and be pulled by the winter wind on my walk home from school, and it doesn’t take long for 4 pm to reach when i’m back in my bed and i am consumed by regret of what my day consisted off
and by 5 pm i am sufficiently filled with anger as i watch my life on a loop
at 8 pm i close my binders and put away my homework while wondering if i can do it all again the next day, and a short 60 minutes later at 9 pm i find myself standing in the shower trying to decipher between the tears and the water
at 11 pm i have said goodnight to my friends, but not to the moon
my mind wanders to places of pixies and fairy dust and eternal rest and loud music
and my life quickly jumps to 12 am when i really start questioning why i’m still awake because i know that the morning is six short hours away,
then monsters crawl out of my ears and more tears emerge from my eyes as i wonder if everything is still worth it
at 1 pm i force myself to sleep because i remind myself that when i’m asleep i don’t have to think
about things like how my mind is a shattered mirror and my life is a clock with a broken second hand.
m.r.
Categories:
60 minutes, angst, anxiety, depression, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Now it’s Roethlisberger versus Rodgers
To escape sacks, they’ll have to be dodgers
Two very strong defenses
Big egos and pretenses
When the ball’s caught, they’ll try to dislodge her
There are only 60 minutes to play
But these games last four hours anyway
Referee calls disputed
Jeers from the crowd unmuted
But the instant replays will save the day
Entry for Royal Trevino's contest
Categories:
60 minutes, funny, sports
Form:
Limerick
The clock is ticking...
tick...tick...tick
You need to make a decision...
so make it quick.
This moment will soon be passing you by,
then all you can do is ask yourself why.
Why didn't you make each second count?
Perhaps you should have gone a different route.
There's 60 seconds in every minute...
60 minutes in every hour...
about the time it takes to shower.
Will you make the most of each?
Just think of how many people you could reach.
If you live in the moment...
instead of the past...
You can make the most of your time here...
cause life goes by so fast.
P.R.Deremer
Categories:
60 minutes, change, courage, encouraging,
Form:
Zero Tolerance at Schools
By Elton Camp
It began with a federal law about bringing guns to school
That offenders must be expelled was the ironclad rule
Then, unwisely, local officials the policy vastly expanded
For drugs, aggression, and other things, expulsion demanded
The intention behind these regulations may have been good
School officials couldn’t be trusted to enforce as they should
Because the regulations by modern Dracos had been written,
Students, for childish behavior, with expulsion were smitten
A six-year-old, happy at joining the cub scouts, ruined his life
Because he brought to school camping stuff: spoon, fork, knife
Because of his heinous crime, zero tolerance enforced the rule
He got a suspension and spent forty-five days in reform school
A retarded child for “strong-armed robbery” was arrested
He stole two dollars and in adult jail for six weeks rested
Only when a CBS “60 Minutes” crew came to report the case
Were the ridiculous charges then dismissed with greatest haste
What very desperately needs to be done, it seems to me,
Is a zero tolerance policy for school officials’ stupidity
Categories:
60 minutes, angst, school, school, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
alternately titled: breast damned fallacy hi-jinxed!
In her “60 Minutes” interview aired
Sunday (March 26th, 2018),
the **** star known within red district
as Stormy Daniels bared
her "naked lady" version
swearing oath of honesty,
she emphatically dick cleared
on a stack of video nasties,
and x-rated 'zines
now she can live rest of life
guilt free offloading
hush money endeared
a posteriori into infinitely
jesting bordello loop
with calmly enchanting bug eyed,
drooling media hounds,
whose nostrils flared
squelching the trumpeting Don,
who maliciously glared
for traitorously breaching
“genital man's agreement”),
playing the (sock it to him role
of goody two shoes)
christened Stephanie Clifford)
shaggy long haired
pseudo Mayflower madam averred
to right justice in sought after
condom free nation,
where the turkey
ought tubby national bird
mandating free codicil
to second amendment as of furred
thus, that ass hide from right to bear arms
premature sea r man ejaculation
of Peter ought to be heard
where sudden sound
sans pubis seams burst
jock strapped unseen bulging Johnson's
onslaught hail of expletives cursed
out the mouth of salty sailor spewing Prez,
hook halled for a recess first
and foremost before
questioning resumed
automatically immersed
within tawdry tabloid pulp pit
whore sing Bacchanalian refused to quit
particularly when groin
set zipper (flimsy – obviously,
NOT put thru linkedin
locked down rigorous paces
realized, when pry vet eyelit
of trouser snake split)
yielding singular (nada so sterling)
gamut gallimaufry variegated erector set
with singular bulbous
ram rod rocket like trivet.
Categories:
60 minutes, 12th grade, adventure, girlfriend,
Form:
Free verse
I am waiting for 60 Minutes to run out the clock
and I am waiting for Old Media to request end-of-life counseling
and I am waiting for NASA to announce an imminent extinction event
and I am waiting for the FCC to scrap its plan to monitor thought waves
And I am really waiting for someone to interrupt Bill O’Reilly
I am waiting for Wolf Blitzer to screw up one morning and shave
and I am waiting for GM to admit the Volt was not grounded in reality
and I am waiting for Madonna to say she’s mad as hell and she’s not gonna shake it anymore
and I am waiting for a priest, a rabbi, and a mullah to walk into a bar
And I am really really waiting for the day when humor is color-blind
Inspired by the poem I Am Waiting by Lawrence Ferlinghetti,
from A Coney Island of the Mind (1958)
Categories:
60 minutes, humor,
Form:
Free verse
My green evenings and
honey suckle sunset were
warmer than my kid fists
that wrapped like velcro
around those tall patches
of tiny yard onions
and my chalk-stained jean skort
packed with hand-picked acorns
that spilled from my pockets like
apple juice as we darted
and traversed our woods, our battle ground
laughing as twigs snapped and leaves crunched
under our jelly shoes
smiling in our woody palace
our wide, spacy teeth, perpetually a dark purple
from too many grape freeze pops
that melted faster than our young hearts
into this quiet place, this garden, this paradise
our child minds so cool and clean
But growing caused each day to be remembered
more readily than the next
Hours were really only 60 minutes
and 24 became less than a lot
grass stains seemed darker, seemed bothersome
And America’s online now, I’m a girl now
learning about evenings, about life after sunset
make-up and ribbons flock to my visage like chisels to a canvas
my story shuffled like just another set of cards to be dealt
to be written all the same
just a little faster than before
My feet, an arched size 9, my lips, a glossy 10
and now I go to sleep even later, even after 11
I wonder if now, had I woken up then
only a few toes dabbing the pond, my green grass
still trailing behind,
If I could’ve stopped where I stood
If I could 've remained and never known the deep well
where I find my heart now
Never having to hold my eyes awake
my muddled heavy mind
soaked in cigarette fumes
with pretty heels wading through dirty rooms
spilling and slipping, my good ideas ripping
deep red dress, nail paint looking more like blood
my heart and young spirit disappearing like all
the chalky butterflies, when i was a child,
when I was new
But miles and miles cram me on foreign pillows
soaking up sorry tears
speaking with less personality than my old room
my old yard, my palace,
my garden, my escape
my love…
I hope someday to find it again.
Categories:
60 minutes, childhood, fantasy, growing up,
Form:
Free verse
She lived with her mother and new step-father
At 12 years old she had a younger sister and brother
She was watching 60 minutes one Sunday night
On the show a pregnant younger girl gave her a fright
Because when she was alone with her step-father
To the back yard Tree House he would take her
And in his lust he would force her to do terrible things.
On the next Monday when she came home from primary school
She saw her step-father’s truck there and panicked at his home rule
She threw her bag down and ran to a friendly next door neighbour
In a burst of tears and blurted out, “I won’t go home anymore! ”
The neighbour wondered why and called the police to sort it out
We attended and it became clear the step-father had brought it about
And an investigation started into the step-father fiend.
There was in no admission to his deeds and how his lust for her exceeded
No rational explanation was given and no thought for her was conceded
They charged him that day for offences too cruel for the girl to endure
But in the end of it all there was no conviction called or her safety to ensure
When it finally settled the mother decided to end their destroyed marriage
For her the girl’s safety was important and for the sins of the father to disparage
The only task left to her was pulling the Tree House down.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Categories:
60 minutes, abuse,
Form:
Ballad
A segment I watched on a show –
“60 Minutes,” if you want to know –
Showed a building in which
Experts try to enrich
People’s lives from ideas that just flow.
Robotics is what these folks do
And the audience got a quick view
Of some creatures of steel
With the kind of appeal
That observers could not misconstrue.
For the robots were able to dance!
Choreographers given the chance
To design a routine
Meant for man, not machine;
So much joy to be had with one glance!
I encourage all readers to seek
“Dancing robots” on Google; one peek
Will help brighten your mood
And I’ll bet you’ll conclude
You’ll be grinning for more than a week.
Categories:
60 minutes, dance, joy, technology,
Form:
Limerick
all at once (circumambient & endogenous)---
365 days, 12 months, 52 weeks,
24 hours, 60 minutes, 60 seconds & then centiseconds & milliseconds etc., etc., etc.,
(you can do the math)
one wo/man with eyes peeled screaming perpetually open
in front of their prospective
screens---
hooked up,
tuned in &
the electronic stimulants being shot back at them
flicker as sporadically quick & acute as the tongue of a hydromantes
dancing, discoing, salsa-ing
atop & alongside the very retinas now fast becoming one
with the screen that they are so very close to
adhering themselves to a new destiny
a new place in the fabric of time
wherein, the devouring mechanism
sucks in
those willing to coast the wave
in which drowning is no longer an option &
the burden (and quite possible boredom) of
immortality
is brought upon their heads
10 fold.
Categories:
60 minutes, life, , cute,
Form:
Free verse
by Parizo Van Thulare
Ohh! poor stratosphere
Your are no longer clear as you used to be
too much fear ,not feeling safe as we used to be
One minute you roar
The next 60 minutes you are rare
What have we done to you?
This days you have changed
I can see by your looks
You are starring at us like crooks
You have turned weather broadcasting machines into fools
They roll like a needle in a wool
For How long do we have to sleep starring at the roofs ?
Somedays you send heat to skin us live
Sometimes you send these unapologetic storms to bury us alive
No weatherforcast knows your pattern
As confused we are ,
We are just waiting to see what will happen
Taking us all won't help
Have Mercy ,
there are far more things to dwell
Categories:
60 minutes, sad, weather,
Form:
Lyric
Kissing is a habit,
Hugging is a shame,
Boys get all the pleasure,
Girls get all the blame,
They tell you that they love you,
They tell you that it's true,
But when your stomach starts to rise,
They say the he'll with you,
60 minutes of pleasure,
9 months of a pain,
With a baby ; That's got no name,
The mama called a whore,
The baby called a bastard,
The baby wouldn't be here,
If the rubber hasn't tore.
Categories:
60 minutes, abortion, birth, feelings, life,
Form:
Couplet
60 seconds
60 minutes
24 hours
7 days
12 months
1 year
Faith
Family
Friendship
and
Life
All gifts from God that are not to be taken for granted,
All gifts to be shared with others,
and
All gifts with someone behind you to stand you up when you have fallen
This is a reminder that we should not be taking life for granted or thinking that we
are invincible and is a reminder that life is a special gift. So take life five minutes
at a time and remember these two most important things, there is always
someone on your side but you only get to live this life once!
This is for everyone whose life will change reading this message and for
everyone who has passed remembering these words of wisdom.
Categories:
60 minutes, faith, forgiveness, happiness, hope,
Form:
Free verse