Best Arbitration Poems
Santa stood in the warehouse
Full of nearly empty shelves
Last night they’d been ram raided
By a bunch of discontented elves
Recently infiltrated and recruited
Into an association of packing staff
Whose ideas and demands and wants
Caused Santa to cynically laugh.
He could have held out for longer
That much was very clear
But the clever blighters
Had subverted his reindeer
To make matters even worse
Pushing poor Santa to the edge
The blighters had gone and clamped
His only working sledge
Only thirty days to Christmas
He knew of no other way
Than to meet their demands
For increased shift working pay
He’d do what it took
To bring things back on track
And ensure he had enough
To fill his mammoth sack
He reached for the Gordon’s
For one last large stiff gin
Then went to arbitration
With a forced and fixed grin
Categories:
arbitration, christmas, fun, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
I would like to announce my presidential candidacy.
I would appreciate it if you'd vote for me.
If I were president do you know what I'd do?
Pretty much anything that I wanted to.
I'd have a first class seat on air force one
and an awesome pad in Washington.
I'd play golf all day with the heads of state
and if they brought beer, wouldn't that be great?
I can't wait.
Well there are a great many issues important to me
and so here is my campaign policy;
Legislation, occupation, education, organization,
administration, hospitalization, immigration, registration,
arbitration, equalization, integration, representation,
race relations, housing renovations, space stations, unified nations!
I Will Restore Our Once Great America!
Etc, etc, etc, etc.
Well it's the home of the brave and the land of the free,
and that's the funny thing about democracy
because a vote for me is a vote for me.
*
Again, I'd have an awesome pad in Washington DC
if you'd find it in your heart to vote for me.
*
Categories:
arbitration, political,
Form:
Rhyme
Resignation registration affiliation with
Other companies.
Instigation not fun to see.
Outstanding subtleties
Nature's nourishing NECTAR needed
Surround sounds astounds naturally
Imagination imagery MAGICAL ecstasy
These are the tides that ATTRACT my attention
More poetry, arbitration prevents LITIGATION
Character assassination
Needless argumentation
CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTEOUS affirmation
Wasted human nature
Three pointer shots in the last seconds of
The game.
These are the situations that make me
Believe what ever will be will be
The sick the healthy
The convicted WRETCHED the corrected
The movers shakers the claim stakers
The rich the poor
Side by side
Tempestuous tempting tides
STRIDE after stride
Opposite dreams at the ROOT of the NECTAR TREE
Categories:
arbitration, dream, tree,
Form:
Alliteration
Your note said, "I resign from being your wife."
"I want a divorce and a new life."
I never expected this letter of resignation.
There will be no argument or arbitration.
Thanks for sparing me the drama with your resignation letter.
You may find you can't do any better.
A notice to terminate the marriage is not required.
Effectively immediately you are fired!
Written 10/2/16
"Resignation" contest
Sponsor: Navda Ivette Negron
Awarded 3rd place
Categories:
arbitration, divorce, humorous, relationship,
Form:
Rhyme
I stoked every fire echoing into the mouth of arthritis?
A rhyming balm develops epileptic quasar fear?
If so, will he enter arbitration “Sold Out”?
Sleep wills She to cocoon beside you, Artemis?
Resplendent fallow flowers ecstasy coriander?
Do we sate the moons of Jupiter?
Funnel Now beyond we murks dilating clouds gyrating?
I need love like our drama needs psychosis?
You remind it to aero, dowager, misty care that casts off where?
Are they splicing cylindrical a lone fire there?
Will baby’s breath copula and inhale the death throes’ stare?
Does it resist and pre-exist and alter this “it's fair”?
She shall unwittingly play Duo, and I the tambourine savior?
Commit dune larks command speech donkey knives fine dream eyeing?
You know how to reveal this delicious Necronomicon?
For the efficient haven't need of heat?
That crack in her skull’s provisionally neat?
If only a soapy mouth were The Key to the ATM Machine?
Did they witness the machination of roses pinwheel like Gene Kelly?
Can a joke slit a garrulous throat?
Do somnolent cars fill up on dark shofars?
How do caravans we collate solace in that Field of Mine?
If they nod will it She while on this turn, southbound daffodil urn?
Are we fish Absalom?
Crib conspirators he marshes in poison?
Anachronic foils arsenic royales docile incomplete Iliad catacombs?
Burning salad oceans?
And if only he and this nickel could…fight?
Wishing jamboree sipped on this wood and night?
This toe of Talos—all that’s palindrome—he will ignite?
Categories:
arbitration, conflict, myth, nonsense, pain,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Invariable measures find me concluded with torment.
Crystallized reflections peripherally surpass imaginations advent.
Crackling blisters intern vivid arbitration, as if to teach spine-chilling lessons.
Collapse goes hostage lungs, held up and recorded in air gasping sessions.
Constant ringing beneath definitions light concealed bag piped eye shadows haunting address.
All occurs timed perfectly for surprise panic attacks; choking on nothingness.
White vaporous visuals infiltrate what sight left remains.
Useless kicking and screaming ended then when normalcy fathomed midst windowed pains.
Feelings numb agony crippled sightless time; acoustic sound walls burrow.
Vines manifest scandalous intent, my surrounded record beckons such growth still; you expect me to feel sorrow.
12/09/16
Categories:
arbitration, abuse, betrayal, character, dark,
Form:
Rhyme
Since industrialization there’s been agitation frustration palpitation trepidation vociferation
And unequivocal asseveration in favour of our planet’s welfare glorification and protection
Premeditated or not, the results on the planet are nothing short of brutalization and martyrization
Damage is irreversible and orchestrated with acceleration towards matricide and genocide no question
Axiomatic domination exploitation contamination violation decimation decapitation
Take their toll from appropriation to deforestation, amputating earth’s lungs without arbitration
Patronizing politicians greedy for ovations ignore aggravation assassination brutification asphyxiation
Not fooling anyone with altruistic motives of lavishing ones with undue admiration and accreditation
We’re beyond allegations and accusations of criminal irresponsible desensitization and legitimation
Way beyond denials repudiation vacillation and claiming a convocation for immediate restoration
The truth is we’re an actualized and glorified civilization cohabitating with vegetation and crustacean
We claim to have more intelligence yet all we show is irreverence greed alienation and agglomeration
The truth is the damage humans have created in the last hundred years amounts to irreparable laceration
Optimists say it’s not too late to opt for self-preservation with inspiration adaptation and indoctrination…
AP: 1st place 2022
Submitted on March 26, 2018 for contest TRIPLE A CHALLENGE sponsored by ROBERT HAIGH - RANKED 8TH
Categories:
arbitration, abuse, corruption, environment, future,
Form:
Monorhyme
I have been struggling with a faded thought
until my mind's become confused and tangled.
At a crossroad, this battle is being fought
between my stubborn brain and wounded heart.
I've great fear one of them will be strangled.
I thought I knew what my life was all about,
but perhaps my heart has been deceived.
I'm suffering a sense of loss; filled with doubt
hoping I haven't taken a misguided route.
I'm finding that life is not as I had perceived.
Their controversy is deeply rooted down,
encompassing what is far beyond my vision.
I search my memory, but it makes me frown,
and my grieving heart will not backdown.
I'm left wrestling in the wallows of indecision.
I won't deny that what troubles me the most
is my attempt at arbitration has gone unheeded.
I'd just as soon try reasoning with a bedpost,
than a brain and heart that are nearly sclerosed.
Neither wants to be the one who has conceded.
I'm fervently trying to make them understand
that if there's to be any hope of our salvation,
they must stop their outrageous grandstand
before I'm forced to give a harsher reprimand.
They suggested I give the other a total ablation!
Surgically remove my brain? I gave it thought,
but it was something that I would have to keep.
We'd all expire if I agreed to dispose of my heart.
That certainly would not be clever on my part!
My anatomy is cursed with two black sheep!
I'm stuck in the middle and I've made a decision,
to threaten them to make peace or they're out.
If they don't come to terms, I'll have to audition
for a new mind and heart who'll be in submission.
I felt a bit cruel, but enjoyed watching them pout!
Categories:
arbitration, conflict, heart, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Volga – 4
to the homoeopathy phial
standing on the traffic-island
why it appears
within her womb
the number of germinated nights
stolen without a kiss
is too little
is then it true
if all the chanting of Harinam
can’t be withdrawn from the alcohol
the body-odour of the running tamarisk-shrub
will enter into the circuit-house
and that devouring of the parchment
brings to the feelings of the non-veg ant-hills
the let’s-go-cure
gathering in the sauce-island
Volga - 5
coming to this ironed canal-side
every auto-rickshaw
wants to know and let other know
the mystery
behind the rice-rain
from the cirrus
the shame in the eyes of the seal containing signs
supplies the whole-sale dealership
of the civil disobedience movement
to the locality
the role of the hammer also
wakes up early in the morning
to put under its own tongue
an antacid
is it possible that the spits
used in the observatory
be made a little more fast-moving
manuscript of the basement of a well
the biography of the pond-heron will be scripted
even-then the productivity of the merry-go-round
wouldn’t be uttered for a moment
no sir, such has never been expected
in the liquefied banana-blossoms
too many hot breads resulted from the season-change
continues to bat vehemently
and climbs to the peak of heart-throbbing runs
they in a group will go to the
aqua anetha of the mole hill
to organise a folk-song
to understand this
no arbitration of the cactus is required
notwithstanding
it is heard that the thread was pulled
by the violin of the wife of the moon-god
from behind the screen
here in the eye-front
is the basement of the morning-well
on its one page lies the faulty crow-caws
and on another some sun-shines
swinging on the hanger
after some pages in recurring …the chicken-pox … the boot-polish …
within the two covers of the dance-drama
also comes the creepers and herbs
grown around the melting point
of the arm-chair
whose legs are broken
if each pore on the skin of the river-lily
becomes so much known
then in the background of this low land
let us have one game more
Categories:
arbitration, fantasy
Form:
Prose Poetry
. Mouser.
The distillery cat was flat on his back
He’d had too much to drink.
The silly moggy his mind was foggy
He could hardly think.
It was thee day he was on his way
His time was really up.
The rules require he must retire
So he had drunk from the goodbye cup!
Those little mice they didn’t think twice
they quickly ran amok
And in no time felt quite sublime
Could not believe their luck!
Tails in the air, Mouser so unaware
Their party had began.
For life’s a must, much was discussed
Like an employee ownership plan.
“Imagine if, Mouser was a stiff
And we all ruled this place,
By and large we’d be in charge
Something we could all embrace.”
But just at that appeared a Rat,
You know what they all say.
You’re never more than through a door
Away from their decay.
“Well gee whiz, so what is this
We have an open house.”
He said with grin, “I’ll just move in
And go and get my spouse.”
The mice felt down and wore a frown
And thought we can’t have this,
Awake that cat from off his mat
Get him out his drunken bliss.
So it was to great applause
He had ended up quite upset,
They’d got the hose and gave a dose
Of water cold and wet!
Mouser howled then he scowled
Jumped up and cried aloud,
“I’ll get those mice they are my vice
They will end up in a shroud.”
The mice did flee with so much glee
The Rat it disappeared.
Mousers head felt like stale bread
His paws they went real weird.
And so it was, like an arbitration clause
Came in the Big Bad Boss.
“What’s all this noise I don’t enjoys,
I prefer a hearing loss!”
So Mouser stayed, a big blockade
And the mice he tipped a wink,
The big brown Rat, he don’t like a cat
That’s had too much to drink!
Now drink can make you think
It can feel good alright.
Whiskey can make you frisky
But it can also make you fight!
For a Scottish cat enjoys combat
As much as a Father loves his daughter,
Although there is a cure,
maybe it is obscure,
We could of course add water!
Categories:
arbitration, animalscat, cat, time,
Form:
Rhyme
There’s confliction and contradiction,
opposition inside a deep collision-
Encounters that lead to arbitration,
the fear of making the wrong decision.
No rest found without accommodation,
a disagreement without alleviation,
if only there was an agreeable negotiation.
There’s a showdown that won’t slow down,
a combat fought without food for thought-
No safety is around in a crowded town,
for honest peacemaking was never taught,
as we are bound in the lost and found.
We are all just caught here, earth bound...
living a life where harmony is never sought.
Rhyme Battle: Showdown Poetry Contest
Juli- Michelle
March 7, 2018
Categories:
arbitration, analogy, conflict, confusion, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
A milk bottle of combustion is a silver tongued spoon. A dragon headed fortress underground. Weaving wavering waving wandering. A teaspoon of cataclysm in giant catacombs. Dominatrix circles and whirlpools. How very stylish Madame de feetoo. While festooned on a chaise long is a long time whilst chatting and chinking is rife. Apples didn't mix with pubic pubescent pineapples as lineage is deemed of the utmost importance. To preserve one's wealth signifies a heraldic crest in a pickle colour glow. But wisest are the tiny heads in jars preserved who whisper their knowledge in scientific chambers. Cloisters closeting closing cloaks. And a large duck head on a man's body lurching lecherously. Leaking. Leaving. Lest no one fault I the time orb of clayon spoke a boulder boisterously. And a dark ridge arriving. Completion is formed from the sipping of secretions from an ancient elderflower. But a bud is neither a woven skirt or a large car. It is found on a very big bus. Busy then? Good. Small boy child weeping. And a silver glasses case watching. And an ornate cane topped with an acre of crystal. Chink then. Great isn't it. When the news explodes the crisis deepens. And waters rise. The hidden submarine planted it's crop paid by coffers. In a sporadic format. Boom then. No idea for the ways. It is left for the duties to a house to perform. And a ministerial magenta. Magna carta is a a little peanut swimming in butter on a plate. And a dust particle is very very versatile so swing in trees then spin over. Good. Grabbing going glooping getting gone gone Gideon gone gone. Powdered like snow or sugar floating. Sap not a silvery spit. And a spotted tie is not very mature is it? Takeaway beans. Fantastic. Very flavoursome. Opinionated officials oversee offices. And a giant bee weighing over 200,000,000.00 kilos. In a fancy dress show. Xo xo xo and done. Xxxx rationalisation xxxxx outnumbered xxxxx testator gator Gatorade xxxx arbitrational Z
Categories:
arbitration, best friend,
Form:
No wonder snail keeps to its shell
And tortoise prefers its crap
Ocean homes fish exclusively
Balance diet makes no cage home for bird
Nest is a chosen home for its kind
My bed
So spacious so comfortable
Spring-less but wood-strong-prove
Bunkmate-less version foam
Though bed-mate at my discretion
Miss you talisman of my sweet dream
My kitchen
Writ of summon from an incorporated trustee of my kitchen
Malnourishment contrary to order 1 rule 2 of home Act 0000
I pleaded ADR instead of litigation
Arbitration fit in for us
Hearing at my sitting room
Dated 31st march,2011
At the hour of 9 forenoon or so soon thereafter
Front loaded document includes
Amala and Ewedu couple with stew wherein soaked meat and its mates
Conferencing in the plaintiff domain [kitchen] with the aids of necessary instrument
Couples’ hug fatal court’s jurisdiction on matrimonial disputes
My Friends
Miss your smiles and well wishes
Your curdles reach not here to wake my heart
I miss jokes we crack to ease pain
That togetherness is dying in me
On my way home to revitalise my spirit
My neighbour
Don’t you miss my disturbances?
Now that you mute as if mourning
On my way home to tickle your dying spirit of humour
My Relatives
Am I not getting detached from this blood tie for long sight?
I left you not that you bore me
Just to fetch royal glue that will bind us to that yonder success
On my way home to reignite aligned
My enemies
Not that I quit the war
I retreat to feed my arsenal
Load and shoot gun may not quit you on time
This Missile kills in million
Yet I display a room for ADR
If your soul worth living
It’s obvious you way me to pick
Friendship is sweeter tempt to taste
Categories:
arbitration, adventure, home, home,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
What if....?
Death was a lottery,
With a Powerball price of a million dollars
Will people still queue up to play?
What if death was a clock, and you had one option
To either fast forward, pause, or rewind it; What will your option be?
What if death was a bank, and one could advocate with it;
Request death forgiveness, death deferment, or death forbearance?
What about death refinancing or death equity?
What if death was like a touch tone phone
And one could put death on hold;
Press zero to bypass mesmerizing angels of death at the reception;
And pally or advocate directly with death?
What if death was a court,
And one could ask for an interlocutory injunction,
Or death arbitration, death adjournment or deferment?
What if death was a wish,
Will beggars still elect to ride, or bolt like Usain?
What if death was cash and carry,
Will the rich, high and mighty,
Be so generous with their cash, as they are to brand names like:
Ferrari, Bugatti and Louis Vuitton?
Or will they chicken out like a cold Turkey?
What if death was a rain check
Will people Queue up to cash in on it?
What if death was like a set of clothes
And one could change from it
Like a Snake discards it's old and worn out skin?
What if death was a marathon
Who would elect to first breast the tape?
What if death was a school or an exam,
And one could do a remediation, carry death over,
Select another elective, or take a death sabbatical?
What if death was a widow,
Will people still accept a widows mite? What if.....?
Categories:
arbitration, art, death, extended metaphor,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Thieving out, can Law be so mundane
that twice the livelihood of theft is so renamed,
how look away, the recipe so plain
the Capitol of claiming's, not the same!
The bail out spending bubbles is insane
no effort, leverage only paper's feign,
invest to say it's so, while purpose lame
is stumbling for cognition in acclaim!
The bail out, but a landfill of waste's shame
a petty arbitration, labor's train
is turned to inundation, big banks aim
the tax payers rumble ne'er keeps their work's gain!
Categories:
arbitration, corruption, international, leadership,
Form:
Monorhyme