Best Nose To The Grindstone Poems
Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day.
At least that's what I hear.
Teach a man to fish and he'll sit in a rowboat
fishing and drinking beer!
When advised to "fight fire with fire"
please think about it twice.
Remember, firemen fight fire with water
so I kinda question that advice!
I'm told the way to get ahead
is by using your ambition.
They say "shoulder to the wheel, nose to the grindstone".
However, now try working in that position!
Don't believe in superstition.
Folks will think you are a schmuck.
Besides if you believe in it
it's gonna bring bad luck!
I try to avoid a lot of things,
that will cause me degradation.
I can resist most anything,
that is, except temptation!
I always try my very best
not to make mistakes
In fact if wasn't for my faults,
I'd be perfect for goodness sakes!
These are some of the random thoughts
that keep running through my mind.
It's just a lot of nonsense,
but it sure helped me unwind.
(Soupers - Sorry you chose to read this
nonsense. Surely you must have
something better to do! Thanks anyway.)
“Made you look you dirty crook!”
And all those colourful phrases
Have vanished from our lexicon
They now belong to the ages!
“Keep your nose to the grindstone!”
Is another from way back when
So sad they've all but disappeared
Wish they could go back again!
Since the dawn of the computer age
We speak in a different fashion
Conversing in very short sentences
Using acronyms without much passion!
We now seem to have lost the ability
To have an intelligent conversation
Emailing, texting, or some such device
Or some other glitzy presentation!
I really long for those simpler days
When people took time to listen
And all the world seemed friendlier
Now feels like something's missing!
“Made you look you dirty crook!”
And all those colourful phrases
Have vanished from our lexicon
They now belong to the ages!
“Keep your nose to the grindstone!”
Is another from way back when
So sad they've all but disappeared
Wish they'd come back again!
Since the dawn of the computer age
We speak in a different fashion
Conversing in very short sentences
Use acronyms without any passion!
We seem to have totally lost the ability
To have an intelligent conversation
Emailing, texting, talking on Facebook
A computer age generation!
I really long for those simpler days
When people took time to listen
All the world seemed friendlier then
Now feels like something's missing!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Nine Eleven—a dark day lives of many workers were stolen away
Individuals worked all night; stayed; without seeing the light of day
Nose to the grindstone below floor level they labored productively
Effectively moving papers, stacks, racks, speedily and so selectively
Encouraged basement overtime; more taxes paid; they worked away
Loyal workers; dedicated to the cause; laziness to them—not a gift!
Earnestly they called home to say, “Honey I am working another shift”
Encouraged by those who stayed; coffee and donuts— no need to pay
Encroachment above they never did see as terror stuck during the day
Night’s darkness envelope the light; underground darkness of the night
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
© Joseph Spence, Sr., 8/27/09
© All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
On the peak of Mount Gobbledygook a man of wisdom sat,
Wondering if this would be the day that someone might stop to chat.
For in his long life he had acquired a mountain of useful knowledge,
Earning several degrees while he was away at Valley Guru College.
He never went to watch the football team or ever drank a beer,
He never dated the guru girls or found a reason to cheer.
By keeping his nose to the grindstone he got what he wanted I suppose,
Degrees filled with useful knowledge not to mention a flattened nose.
After graduation he searched around until he had found the highest peak,
Then he took shelter in a cave and waited for someone with whom to speak.
Surely there would be a line of people seeking out the words he had to say,
Certainly they’d start showing up by tomorrow if they didn’t show up today.
Because the world was filled with people trapped in unhappy states,
And he knew that he could help them because sympathy was one of his traits.
So on the top of Gobbledygook this man of patient wisdom sat,
Waiting for those who’d never come because they have an app for that.
My paper, pen and me
Stepping from the shadows.
Not sure where we belong.
Wondering where we slipped off track.
And where life went so wrong.
My nose to the grindstone.
The whole world yet to see.
We face the world together.
My paper, pen and me.
Attempting to rewrite myself.
And change my whole outlook.
Why write one new chapter.
When I can write a brand new book.
Changing my perspective.
Of all the things I see.
Taking care of business.
My paper, pen and me.
I'll write a new horizon.
A rainbow in the sky.
I'll write a new beginning.
A new reason just to try.
And before my book is finished.
We will be flying free.
Hells fire far behind us.
My paper, pen and me.
Proclaiming from the mountain tops.
Life could not break my will.
The proof is in my writings.
I am standing still.
No longer in the shadows.
What will be will be.
Heaven lights the way for.
My paper, pen and me.
Edwin C Hofert
Going to get a “haircut” today
Actually getting all of them cut
Cutting just one would hardly be noticed
Now I'm being a silly nut
There's many other sayings similar to this
English is overloaded I find
Wanna hear some others I've discovered
Well stay tuned it'll blow your mind
“Keep your nose to the grindstone”
Now THAT'S gotta smart I'd say
See what I mean, don't follow this advice
You'll feel pain from here to Sunday
How about this one, “eye candy”
It certainly has me bamboozled
“Less is more” is another that's confusing
Looking for others for your perusal
Here's another, “left in the lurch”
Pretty sure they meant left in the “church”
“Dead as a doornail” as dead as you can be
Gonna do a little more research
To “peter out” means to dwindle away
Has a certain sexual connotation
Put it back in, it's a public place
You'll be arrested for excessive potation
“I rest my case”, now here's another one
Wasn't even carrying a case
Okay gonna “put this thing to bed”
Yikes! Can't wipe this grin from my face!
© Jack Ellison 2013
POTATION
• the action of drinking something, esp. Alcohol:
I intend to abstain from potation.
• (often potations) a drinking bout:
the dreadful potations of his youth.
I forgot.
When was it
the word withered
the phrases fled?
When did vigilance for the lines
crumble laxly into the air.
Was it when I, unfaithful
to my craft, forgot to work;
in nonchalance to practice;
lost nose to the grindstone.
I thought, poetic as I was,
the majestic write would
upon me light like
pollen in the breeze.
Write it down, when it comes.
I'll bet that's what Dr. Seuss did.
Kathryn Collins
May 8, 20016
Starts with love, at least for most
The best of times, if only we could remember
Then rules and tasks from those who know best
Learning, playing, character building pain
Uniformed sessions, odd days in the park
A memory ratio for adults to mock
Ambitions take hold, good job, nice house
Nose to the grindstone, piece of cake
Reality check, dreams cost the earth
A little adjustment back on track
Family crossroads or large roundabout
Nothing’s for certain the constant is doubt
Final destination, X marks the spot
This is me happy, so why am I not
Buy a new compass that’s my advice
Or find religion and re-roll the dice
End on a sermon, though you know it's too late
We all end up rhyming, no blame, call it fate
“Made you look you dirty crook!”
And all those colourful phrases
Have vanished from our lexicon
They now belong to the ages!
“Keep your nose to the grindstone!”
Is another from way back when
So sad they've all but disappeared
Wish they could go back again!
Since the dawn of the computer age
We speak in a different fashion
Conversing in very short sentences
Using acronyms without much passion!
We now seem to have lost the ability
To have an intelligent conversation
Emailing, texting, or some such device
Or some other glitzy presentation!
I really long for those simpler days
When people took time to listen
And all the world seemed friendlier
Now feels like something's missing!
A re-post!
I surrendered my heart and I pledged my alliance;
Put my nose to the grindstone and contained my defiance.
Kept my hands to myself never touched no one else;
Kept my taste for the hunt stored on a shelf.
I never forgot to emphasize friend;
And always remembered don’t always win.
Not always perfect but vested for sure;
And I strengthened my heart so I could endure.
I balanced the check book;
And I carried the weight;
And offered up more;
Than ever I took
It took many years but I finally grew up;
I was finally the big dog no longer the pup.
I treated my woman much like a queen;
But then she did something like I’d never seen.
I won’t include details I’m holding my tongue;
Even though I forgave her what we once had was done.
I searched for the reasons as I lay on the ground;
And these are the answers I’m surprised that I found.
I lived as a gun man sufficiently styled;
Proficient as trickster kept her beguiled;
But the life of the player could toss you to flames;
And being the provider that’s the true game
1/13/21
Living among animals, some of which albino
Other lifeforms gigundo or micro
Folks in the same or different time zones
Had to keep my nose to the grindstone
And put down the Iphone
Spent time outdoors on my own
The beauty of it all, left my mind blown
Out among so many pinecones
I can feel it in my bones
Business conducted in person or by phone
Working toward another milestone
I know
Never underestimate thy foe
The stem on the plant was a rhizome
And this other plant had all these trichomes
Growing and dying in and out of similar or different biomes
Nearby clear waters or on the surface is a white foam
People living homeless, and others in a nice home
Sometimes for a cat or dog, the doctors prescribed Visbiome
The area was currently a no fly zone
Due to a cyclone
Was not even close or in the strike zone
Close to and far from Limestone
It was made of fine stones
Or possibly made with rhinestone
the hours & the company you keep
just how do you spend your hours &
the company you keep?
do you spend your days alone,
nose to the grindstone,
nose to the grindstone?
a good little american does what
the rich wealthy white forefathers
wanted,
they keep their nose to the grindstone
working their knuckles to the bone in
puritan purity, keeping the work ethic
alive,
preserving the has-been tradition in amber
like there was a special fair just around
the corner,
where one could be exhibited as
the last productive person to ever walk
the plank of the empire---
so where will it all go?
what will the producer have to show for
themselves, if they don’t make it
big,
in the great place still called the
“land of the free,”
by some, who have yet to spend time here &
find out that they never should’ve left
wherever they came from?
if one doesn’t prioritize a life
with friends & family at the top of the
pyramid,
drowning out all commitments to business &
jobs, work & the state,
the hours spent with the nose to the grindstone
are hours spent as a slave---
for you, yes you,
are in wage slavery
a slavery in which you happily sing a tune
as they come crashing down with the lash,
taking away pensions, taking away health care,
taking away
taking away,
until it’s all gone---
better to have others to fight with
when the other shoe drops,
than to have devoted a life to the process &
the system that devours it.
Be resilient is the mainstay
For trouble and strife can be a moment away
Don’t overthink or wonder too long
For strength in adversity is needed along
With you nose to the grindstone and not on the air
Don’t be weighed down but show you care.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Countless instances submitting poems
finds me racking
quite a hefty collection of rejections,
the responses lacking
disappointing voluminous vicious
venomous vitriolic backing
quite the contrary,
the prefabricated responses
unsuccessful at hijacking
my "FAKE" toothy gumption
(since I wear dentures) lip smacking
bite size packing
not exceptionally appetizing,
but definitely wanting
with more pungent acidity stinging
(albeit figuratively) painfully digging
into the essence of all bone marrow,
asper this humble,
who will brazenly continue entering
competitions until scathing
character ridiculed of course including
unsolicited yet denigrating
words clearly, definitively,
and flagrantly insinuating
this prolific entity among
basket of deplorables wasting
his precious energy and time crafting
ambiguous, horrendous, and
nebulous word mangling
poetic endeavors attempting
to garner plaudits generating
infamous, notorious, and
sanctimonious renown diluting
the medium, which
August pantheon replete
with posthumous scriveners
reputations eternally outshining
any facile, infantile,
and juvenile laboring
in my unbiased opinion
far more deserving
of a simple bland communique
devoid of any ripsnorting
flagitious, malicious, and
unscrupulous character assassinating
(mine), which continuously insipid sending
(to yours truly) said
tactfully gentle turning
down efforts requiring
nose to the grindstone painstaking
efforts, which witness shuttering
myself within this
mancave, barely surviving
on thin gruel necessitating
copious blood, sweat, and tears with
nary even a shopworn reprehensible glint
bombarding, condemning, and defaming,
hence such determination bedeviling diligence
to espy acceptably blistering
excoriating, and insulting
nauseating mean opprobrium
meted out to me
until such outpouring
of vindictiveness acquired,
I will continue logic bending writing.
Wherefore art thou to find (even trumped) critique?