Best Plan Of Attack Poems
I've got a story, that needs to be told,
about my mean ole granny, she's pushing "83" years old.
She came at me trippin, it was a Tuesday night,
griping up a storm bout her broken, bedroom nightlite.
She claims I attempted to cause her to trip,
with ending up on floor, and a right broken hip.
She waddled down the hall, walker leading the way,
her hair was a wreck, misplaced comb I would say.
I calmly explained light stays constantly lit,
seven days and nights, my excuse, sounding legit.
Before I could say that the little bulb just blew,
she slowly bent down, and grabbed a brown velcro shoe.
Not quite for certain of her plan of attack,
shouldn't be worried, her eyesight, rather unfit.
I went to the kitchen, quickly opened the junk drawer,
located a pack of bulbs, I had purchased a week before.
Staying out of her way, her comments, and aim,
back to her room, the nightlite I had supposedly maimed.
I quickly replaced the old bulb with new,
the light flickered once, twice, then its radiance grew.
I went back to sit, where I was before,
with granny still ranting, barely pacing the floor.
I told her, her light seems to be fine,
that she could go back to bed at any time.
Slowly she dropped the brown velcro laced shoe,
continuing to cuss at me, like a mad trucker would do.
With a final curse word, and a slam of her door,
I sat silently, grinning, and thinking, "grannies' rage", I simply adore.
The determination in my eyes
says don't mess with my time
to brilliantly shine and to rise
keeping my focus on the prize
with no one causing my demise
I will keep my self contained rage
coursing deep inside my veins
To unsheath my sword on that day
when my enemies will have to pay
battle hardened with strategy in play
To live or die for the cause I ride
because
my warrior spirit I can not hide
gathering my soldiers on my side
Mounting our horses saddled to deride
my opponents who can not fight
An intellect beyond their comprehension
A wind at our backs igniting confusion
Their victory song will be an illusion
The smell of sucess will be a delusion
My plan of attack is right now in motion
Sweet revenge is my bottled potion
Drop your swords my unrighteous foes
Off with your heads are my righteous blows
Bodies piled to be picked apart by crows
With these slaughtering fields I will gloat
I'm a warrior with my strength to show
Very feminine yet extremely deadly, woah!
(My true God is a rightous warrior and
taught me to be a warrior too)
Think you’ve got the workplace blues
No matter what work you do
These words will hopefully inspire you
Yes, your job may be redundant
But the paychecks are abundant
Some days you will get off track
But the next day know your plan of attack
Bring a smile and get it back
If your productivity is ever low
Learn from the experience and continue to grow
Remember, “You reap what you sow”
Keeping a positive attitude can sometimes be rough
Remembering your mission and purpose is often enough
Embrace what’s in your control and let go of the small stuff
There’s no need to be discouraged
Each day someone’s dreams you encourage
As cliché’ as it may seem
You are the gateway to many dreams
Recognize the value in what that means
No need for the Workplace Blues
Instead, work on the attitude you choose
Think of the many lives enriched by you
Lay
He fought for glory
He fought to kill
Trained in battle
Broken rebuilt will
Once an innocent
Now a master
Following orders
No matter the disaster
Women , children
Clad all in black
Strange lands of sand
No plan of attack
Reinvent reality
Dreams are red
Blood splatters
Too many to count dead
Retreat go back
Set up the board again
Draw another map
Search for a different end
Once so young
Now so grown
Memories of yesterday all gone
but what you are told
Reinvented redesigned
Where did you go?
Life's' journey passed you
What have you to show?
Metals pinned on your chest
Hands raised high
Your a hero now young man
You did not die.
What Llama Lil Saw in Baghdad
In Llama Lil's Cafe eating crackers and Stilton
surveying the street and reading Milton
Sits a strange and moody itinerant
Icon for a well-known roll-on deoderant
Under cover spy for a US president
Devoid of all human sentiment
On assignment he was hand picked
And his code name was Eggs Benedict
Perusing the pages of Paradise Lost
he re-read the phrase "At no human cost"
For his orders were, to him revealed
between the lines of Milton concealed
and I suspect, though I really can't say
the reason for this strange communique
Was due to the results of a wide-world survey
Showing few are caught dead, reading 'poet-ray'
Deep in thought on his plan of attack
He heard a blonde from the table at his back
Summon the waiter with fingers clicked
to order a double Eggs Benedict
Mysteriously, in dark glasses AND reading Milton
She slipped him a note- her number at the Hilton
He felt a strange rumble in his tummy
He remembered how the cheese tasted funny
The last thing on earth our hero has seen
are the spinning walls of Lil's, Argentine theme
The rest of his life flashed past his eyes
Is this the way a hero dies?
Super -spy and icon for a well known deoderant
Killed -from effects of a straying rodent
Missed his liason at the Hilton
Some one mailed his copy of Milton
pages torn and stained with Stilton
(Yes! It was from the Bagdad Hilton!)
To an address inside the cover
T'was to: George W Bush or someone or other
My father is now pitching the bottom of the ninth inning.
We need a few more tests to determine just how many outs he has left.
I had the opportunity this past weekend to visit him on the mound and ask him how
he was feeling.
“I still feel like I can get them out” he said, “I just wasn’t expecting Cancer to come
to the plate.”
Nobody was.
My mother has caught all nine innings and she still remains the receiver of this
battery.
One of the seven fielders behind him had to leave the game early and awaits him in
the great beyond.
We all wait anxiously for the scouting report to help us determine just how to attack
this batter as he steps up to the plate.
We may be able to throw fast balls and get him out with an operation.
Or, if he has spread out too far, curve balls, chemotherapy and radiation may be the
best approach.
Or, if he is too formidable, we may just need to intentionally walk him.
The test results will help us determine our plan of attack.
Regardless, however, my father has pitched a masterful game.
I tipped my hat to him as I returned back to Seattle while he confers with his
battery mate and waits for the test results.
All of his fans are now aware of the batter he faces and all have risen to their feet in
applause and gratitude for the way he has played the game.
I learned this game and much more from the old man.
I would consider myself a blessed man if I could manage to play it half as good as
he.
One thing I know – he will face this batter, be it his last or not, just like all the
others; with a smart ass grin on his face and the assured confidence that it is he
who is the better man in this struggle.
Go get him, Dad.
Regardless of the outcome, it is already known that you have won the game.
We couldn’t be any prouder of how you played it.
I am glad you get the chance to hear the standing ovation – you deserve it.
choke back fright dark and dusty,
flight plan a little rusty,
hope for a ride have fun,
then run, and hide,
twinkle twinkle distant dear
insecure considering all that's been said,
up for interpretation from a rocket bed,
sparkly conjecture, with pale complexion,
simply put a man without a plan of attack,
swells come regular, damn you fear
love is not a modern day invention,
like breathing,
or a one sided upside down mathematical equation,
a lot like truth yet yields ill conclusion
...like sleeping without,
and reaching for air,
because she's not there
Your memories perplex a confused mind.
A vast sea-like water spout erupts behind.
I morphed into what you were enduring.
We are once again being left in the wind.
Scars were tickled with scent of spring.
Tulip gardens and vivid hues are enchanting.
Hypnotic mind's remoteness is strange.
Using the ninth divine cloud, you lauding.
Dismal views would drive me strange.
I'd sing for the spirits of the carnage.
In my mind, the calm of today is gone.
Darken spots provide a unique phage.
Feeling in the heart as cold as scorn.
So, where is this mind going torn?
This is the mind's intrinsic norm.
Wherever darkness rules are born.
You can't discern truth from deform.
Yet, reality is a colorless transform.
Trust has been ripped and struck.
The only thing left is a bodily storm.
Sadness is the hallmark of the muck.
Left you with no clear plan of attack.
It's the saddest situation conceivable.
It is the master interface for all ruck.
Written: October 04, 2021
I hate the situation I'm living I don't like it at all. I learned from my mistakes I got scars from all my falls. I learned how to take a lost and cover up all my flaws. I have felt so uncomfortable because of the situations I put myself. Do I regret it not at all? What’s the meaning of life if u don't get up when u fall. Life learned lesson you rise and you fall. Lonely as lonely can get I cry out but no time for tears to fall strong woman when I sleep strong when I wake up to fight this sin I've been put in. I didn’t happen to life, life happened to me so I will past the test the very best of my ability. Grandma and mama told me it would be days like this. Whispers I hear they all fade away. Why hold out until tomorrow let your soul shine in the day. There is no place like home I sit and say as I close my eyes tight wishing I could be Cinderella just for a day. Nowhere to lay my head nowhere to go, so no sleep like a thief in the night I'm trying to stay out these niggaz way. Trying to make poetry happen each and every day if you’re not with me your surly not with me u against me. Life is a ***** and then you die; so you know it’s authentic. All good things come to an end that's why we cry at funerals. I love you. If we always had sunshine there would be no happy rain or love making to look forward to. I promise with my brains I'll make our world a paradise with only you and me. With dedication you may do anything. Haters will always hate and fakers will always behave fake. So come up with a plan of attack and remember to stay on track...
I'm not sure 'bout your plan of attack
Take one step forward and two steps back
You say we can't be beat
It sounds more like retreat
So don't expect me in your war Jack
Secrets Of The Pink Floss Diary
Pink bubble-gum lip gloss is my signature smack and my best plan of attack.
Italian pumps of the best design prop up my gams,
making them look as if I ran lots of laps that day.
Nights of tango and salsa lessons give me the smoothest moves and
have the fellows asking me for more time on the dance floor.
Kudos the same fellows give me, for being so mellow and easy to get
along with when we’re out on a date.
Full of fun and laughter is what my friends and family all say about me,
they say that’s my best trait.
Learning how to lay back and enjoy the ride of life on the lazy river
is a great thing to enjoy each summer and all throughout life, too
much passes me by if I don’t take time to enjoy my life.
Opening my heart and my mind to people who are near and dear to me;
learning to always be present with those who are so special to me.
Showing those I love, how special they are by expressing to them
how much I love them and how essential they are to my life and
how much joy they bring to my life.
Spontaneously choosing the best moments to express my sexuality
with my soul mate seductively with a simple wink of the eye or the bat
of an eyelash is imperative to keeping our passion ever flowing.
This poem was inspired by Shirley Harrison’s Poem Candy Floss,
Frogs and Dogs
There once was a dog that liked to eat frogs though it gave him indigestion.
He did not even care when the small children stared, or if they happened to ask a question.
He would jump on frog backs, have a green snack, and never give his confession.
Researchers would say, “Let the dog have his way. It's all part of ‘Natural Selection.”
But pet owners knew, it would make him turn blue, before death's toll said, “Collection!”
Frog-eating dogs will die in the fog if hunting and eating frogs in the bog. Connection!
Eliminate frogs catch tadpoles in their holes and remember to get directions.
For frogs in the bogs, which are eaten by dogs, can cause death. No resurrections!
Since this frog-killing plight might be a tough sight, before killing, seek information!
Whether freezing frogs eggs or chaining your dog, remember death brings insurrections.
Civil rights for dogs, for hogs or for frogs might lead you to a few connections.
Frog-eating dogs that play in the bog or roll over logs just might find death's reflections.
So before pets go down and are buried in the ground do your best to learn preservation.
Don’t kill all the frogs that eat mosquitoes in bogs; it's a chain of life stipulation.
Instead, teach your dog to stay out of the bog. He'll NEVER have frog consternation.
A plan of attack to keep dogs off of frog's backs at times might cause reservations.
Take responsible actions, separate frogs and dog; try using some dogie distractions.
The moral of this story is that dread and despair can be avoided with contemplation.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 6, 2009
I left the corporate world with the hopes of giving back
Returning to school to earn my teaching degree was my plan of attack
Such a diverse group of fellow students I encountered in grad school
We all had hopes of someday making it into the teaching pool
Student teaching helped to solidify it for me
How truly rewarding a profession could be
Exhausting and emotionally draining work, for sure
But, making a positive impact in even one life, was the allure
With certificate in hand, I began to look for a teaching position
Eager for my dream career to come to fruition
Three failed interviews later, led me to substitute teaching
Two and a half years without a steady paycheck left me reaching
Financially, I was drowning, having already cashed in my IRA
I didn’t have a relationship with God, but still I began to pray
I left it in his hands to lead me
Through my faith, stronger than ever would I be
Finally a steady paycheck came my way
Still it wasn’t enough to stave off bankruptcy day
But wait, God wasn’t done
He would ensure that I could take care of my loved ones
Full circle, back to the corporate world I once knew
God would not leave me alone to stew
His guidance was golden
To him, I will always be beholden
For now, I am looking forward to my first paycheck
To help me climb out of this mountain of debt
Supporting my family is my primary goal
With God’s help I will dig my way out of this hole
Inside this casino, I think I will linger,
because I see no wedding band on her finger.
How can I talk to her while she deals blackjack?
I am trying to formulate a plan of attack.
She is one of the prettiest dealers I ever saw.
Will there be any lucky cards for me in the draw?
I would like to become acquainted with this honey.
How can I do it without losing any money?
If she can be my ten, I will be her ace.
I am just getter hotter while standing in this place.
With this single doll, I know I can win.
Here are my chips. I want to cash in.
In May of seventeen seventy-nine
Henry Clinton was having a hard time,
so tired of the rebels still fighting,
had to somehow get Gorge Washington
out of the looming Hudson Highlands,
and then force the war to a final ending.
He marched his army to the north
meaning to shut down King’s Ferry,
threaten West Point and draw them out,
determined to up the ante,
no nonsense was he to bandy,
his men took Stony Point.
With the King’s Ferry now block and closed,
across the Hudson supplies couldn’t go,
Washington found himself in a hard place,
with a foothold beneath the Hudson Peaks
the British now could his main camps seek,
he could not let himself be displaced.
From atop a nearby mountain
he saw the British were building
abbatis and gun emplacements,
with scarlet the point was filling,
he knew that there’d soon be killing,
he would retake Stony Point.
But then the British made a mistake,
trying to set bait Washington would take,
sent Tyron to raid towards New Haven,
but Washington was not a damned fool,
he saw what they were trying to do,
and in the Hudson Highlands he remained.
Drew up a new plan of attack,
then Mad Anthony Wayne he called,
a general of temper and great skill,
they would see the British fort fall,
the garrison their troops would maul,
they would take Stony Point.
See when the British had fortified,
they had forgotten the river had tides,
and that a beach would soon be exposed.
It was a long shot, but one they would take,
if they could get behind the lines would break,
so only the best troops were picked to go.
No bullets would be in their guns,
stealth and steel would be their choice,
the only way they could be sure,
detection they had to avoid,
there really was no other choice
to penetrate Stony Point.
Wayne then split his forces into three
to face Britain’s seven hundred fifty
and sent Murfree to face the center,
his job was to raise hell and distract,
while to the north Butler’s troops would track,
from the south Wayne’s main force would enter.
At midnight they would all attack,
Under cover of the deep night,
white papers were stuck in their hats,
so they could see who not to fight,
bayonets set to stab and bite,
they marched for Stony Point...
CONCLUDES IN PART II