Best Scheduling Poems
All has come to an end, except for who to proclaim
The winner of The National College Football Championship Game
Excitement is brewing for the play-off game
Some will be at the game watching getting rained on, cold, and excited
The armchair quarterbacks stay at home and watch on their big screen TV being- telecasted
Scheduling and planning their parties to cheer on their favorite team and fellowships
Shopping for chips and dips
Hot wings and BBQ smokies
Soda pop, tea, beer, and whiskeys
They dress themselves and their children in lucky sports team attire
Kick off time has come, everyone is bouncing off the walls inspired
Armchair quarterback is playing in his own little field
He kicks and runs
Catches, tackles, and stuns
“That’s not the way they teach you to tackle!”
With all his excitement he almost slides off the armchair
“Oh, come on! Hey ref that’s not fair!”
“That’s pass interference he was all over him while the ball was in the air!”
He hollers and cheers
“Touchdown!” That’s the way!
Rants and raves
“Quit doing that, you idiot, you're going to get a fifteen yard penalty!”
His blood pressure is going up we all agree
“What the Hell was that you nitwit!”
“He dropped it.! You could have had it!”
Disappointment sets in, his team has lost
He blames the refs for all the bad calls, and its cost
Cleaning the carpet because of all the excitement, it’s going to cost
The season is over and I don't have to hear his rants until next year and
Our children will be the next generation of armchair quarterbacks
1/13/2015 by: Eve Roper
Accounts on watching and listening to my husband and brother
I am the ocean, also known as the sea.
I am unpredictable, my nature wild and free.
My color varies, shades of blue and green.
Shadows and light decorate the scene.
Scheduling and planning the course of my tides.
Lies in the hands of the moons lunar guides.
Seafarers know that they must plan,
their ocean journey, but at my command.
With waves and currents I am never still.
Force and strength, my own free will.
I am vast, my depth, a challenge to measure.
Upon my ocean floor, lies ships lost treasure.
There is life teeming below my surface,
An underwater world, mine to service.
I can be gentle, and and create delight.
But I can destroy with power and might.
My waves dance, ever lively, to and fro
With changing tides, ebb and flow.
If you listen closely, you will hear my song.
Whether the beach, or out at sea, it comes along
I have lived forever, with the moon in the sky.
If you have the time, I will tell you why.
From the beginning, I've been part of God's plan,
His vision of wonders to bestow upon man.
Spend some time, there is much to learn.
Nature's true gifts are yours to earn.
Believe this with pure heart and soul.
All heaven and below, his to control.
Exploring the suburbs at Melbourne
Glad are the late nights’ burnt
Bustling Bourke Street Mall
Epitome of a retail therapy’s call
The archaic Flinder’s Station
Scheduling warrants attention
Cho-chooing to Sydney
Never costs a kidney
The surmountable Clothes Hanger
Climbing it is not a head-banger
The romantic Sydney harbour
Releases lovers’ masquerade and cover
The stunning Opera House
Pit stop onwards to the south
The flora of the Botanical Garden
Seemingly children running at kindergarten
The national parks of Wollongong
Hitting the musical notes of the gong
Rekindling memories of Bosman’s Bay
Is a paradise comes what may
Forgoing the isle of Tasmania
That would be the fear of Cradle Mountain mania
In the southern city of Hobart
Where we could relish a tart
Sailing off to Perth
That was never my berth
Discovering the untouched Fremantle
Goes to show an adventurer’s mantle
Diving the Great Barrier Reef
Provides a temporary relief
Coasting the white beaches of Gold Coast
The locals are but good hosts
Annihilated by the waves of the Pacific
Almost make thee panic
Crisscrossing the plains of Adelaide
Part of the best plans’ laid
Allure of the Red Centre
Australia’s stunning epicentre
In the midst of a red desert
Harbour hopes to return and not divert
Discovering the monumental Alice
Go head to head with some malice
Sailing across Katherine’s Gorge
The fissures is a sight to watch
The northern tip of Darwin
Just like the pinnacle wanting to win
Ode to the Northern Territory
A journey of national geographic really
Viva the land of Oz
Paradise and grandiose she was
Excitement is brewing for the play-off game,
who to claim a podium close-up fame,
winner of 2018 21st FIFA World Cup's name.
Scheduling and planning their dream
to cheer on their favorite team.
Fans at the game watching united,
dressed in their lucky sports team attire, delighted,
cold, getting rained on, and excited.
Television armchair football enthusiast
muttering, "C-o-o-l call. Revenge at last."
He follows every move, wishing he was there,
but at home watching on his big screen, a bear.
Everyone in the stadium is bouncing off the walls,
inspiring cheers and rants, raves and calls.
While the Armchair enthusiast with his own calls,
within his walls his soul appalls.
The hero standing in the middle of a melee, with a thin
breeze around the football field, using a Cruyff Turn spin,
then brilliantly threading the ball home winning
the World Cup for his country. It’s only the beginning.
6/25/2018
The championship has been awarded every four years since the inaugural tournament in 1930 for except in 1942 and 1946 when it was not held because of the Second World War, a global war that lasted from 1939 to 1945.
Poetry Contest: 2018 World Cup
Sponsored By: Mark Toney
Changing Time a Funny Thing
By Franklin Price
3/7/2018
Changing time a funny thing
A lot to think about
Easily an oddity
We need to figure out
In Spring an hour forward
In the middle of the night
When two A.M. turns into three
The timing could be right
Whatever we have started
As the clock's at one five nine
Will easily end after three
For bragging rights is fine
In Fall when time is turning back
And two returns to one
Depending, what was started,
Could end before begun
I see the wheels are turning
As you finished up this rhyme
In Spring or Fall your scheduling
Makes the best of daylight time
My silver hair has grown,
Time has weakened my bones.
My face has been wrinkled,
My limbs have been crippled.
My time is up, I must go,
My death will be a painful woe.
But before I have a chance to die,
A movie flashes before my eyes.
The movie begins with a baby girl,
Being brought into this world.
She cries so loud even though she’s unharmed,
But finds peace in her mother’s arms.
As years pass by, she learns and grows.
Her early life begins to flow.
A teenager she has become,
Everyone sees her as a bundle of fun.
But on the inside, she’s moody and depressed,
She covers it up and strives to impress.
Adored by adults, loved by her peers,
She can’t be herself, that’s her worst fear.
She takes a step into adulthood,
Her goal cannot be misunderstood.
Focus on college, rise to the top,
She’s a determined beast that cannot be stopped.
Her dream career is in her hands,
She’s scheduling, appointing, and making plans.
Her job gives her no chance to unwind,
And family is at the back of her mind.
So after retirement, she’s old and alone,
Her best friend is her cell phone.
She has no spouse, has no kids,
So what lesson does my life give?
Life begins with joy and ends with sorrow.
A sorrow that there will be no tomorrow.
And this sorrow burns worse than fire,
It consumes hopes, dreams, and longing desires.
So to all the people of youth,
Listen to my words, for I speak the truth.
There’s no need for a life of your own,
If that life will be spent all alone.
So keep your family, keep your friends,
Before your life comes to an end.
And all of life’s unique parts,
Keep them in your mind, cherish them in your heart.
So that on the final day,
You can look back and say,
“I’ve lived a good life.”
Can You Please Wait A Second...?
In steed of ye
mounting your stock
key high horse,
perhaps named Rock
Key, and head off...lock
stock and barrel,
who knows where,
now lemme seat chew wait
ma self, and quickly knock
out quick mention about
hour (meaning everybody
within the wide world),
and their webbed
warp and woof weave
courtesy of Father Time
analogously to a jock
key hunkering down
aiming tubby first
crossing finish line
at races, afterwards celebrate
with social feted outing, while
scheduling proctologist appointment,
et cetera, sans squeezing
late radio talk ad hoc
meeting, an
extemporaneous yet timely
lesson indirectly related
to bird dogging, i.e. migrating
fast as Glock
pistol can shoot, essentially
sound (garden) resembling
joyus honking flock
of seagulls heading
Southside Johnny
and Asbury Jukes,
and on Tortoise -
to sea dock
side of the moon
Pink Floyd attired as Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle,
whose schedule Nsync
with YES men hosting
showtime merely minutes away...
remember ring that char existence
enslaved to thee a bomb
been nibble atomic clock,
which device uses an electron
transition frequency went
sallying forth in
the microwave tent,
experiencing optical radiation pent
up ether, or ultra
violet region meant
for electromagnetic fervent
active spectrum, or Palestra event
of atoms comprising
Adam and the Ants
(as well all other matter)
linkedin to frequency standard for
timekeeping Strunk and White
element of style.
The sights and sounds around us fill our heart with delights...
It's been another one of those glorious, fun and family nights.
We like to get together every month or so...
But sometimes scheduling is difficult because
everyone is on the go.
But family nights are important because it keeps us in the
mix...
And sometimes a family squabble we are able to fix.
It's fun to watch the grandkids as they grow each
and every day...
And they have learned that grandparents know how
to have fun and play.
It's good to keep connected as we live our busy lives...
But it's really encouraging to see the growth and maturity
as it is developing in the husbands and wives.
The sights and sounds around us fill our hearts with delights...
Three cheers for those glorious family nights.
Good food, great fellowship, and memories galore...
Family nights are what these precious moments are for.
TK<
So let us have our laugh;
it is enough for just a moment
sacrificed to force belief
that somewhere an intangible
divinely-ordered plan exists,
to which we must conform.
Dear God, give mercy to my plea
that that may not be so!
That there is little solid ground
on which free will may put down roots
already--I shall dignify
my entry with a lordly number,
cringing as I write, and beating back
a nagging, growing certainty that even
summoning a doubt is forordained.
There's no way out!
We all are hypocrites, and must
expunge such realistic thinking
as we write our grocery lists
and then assign them slots
within our silly days in order
just to fortify our flesh
and those elusive pleasure centers
lurking there among our bones.
But thoughts are stubborn.
They keep coming back, reminding me
of their entitlement. My to do lists
are perishable--reality is not.
Even consciousness, I read,
may plod ahead of me
long past mortality.
And I remain advisedly
a happy cog in a machine
of some beneficent monstrosity
I'll never comprehend.
~
The year was 1946...
Grandfather, on my dad's side, chemistry professor at the Ann Arbor Campus of the University of Michigan had just finished his tenure, completing his service to our country in the reserve as a full-bird Colonel in the US Army during WW 2 as Base Commander at Fort Benning during the build up to D-Day. He visited his old friend in Washington, the longest-serving Speaker of the House Sam Rayburn. Sam liked to tell G'pa " it's 5 o' Clock somewhere Marshall, let's have a drink" (1-drink limit). Sam would regale G'pa with tales of inner-sanctum bitter feuds in Congress and G'pa would regale Sam with stories of skirmishes his buddy the General, George S. Patton (tank commander) had during the the summer of '42 (see the HBO Series 'Band of Brothers) with various Branch-Generals, scheduling jump-platform qualifying times preparing for the D-Day Invasion. For years, G'pa seldom visited Dad's dear suffering mom, who passed way too early in life (G'pa never even went to her funeral) this permanently scarred dad, a hurt he never recovered from, seldom visiting G'pa in later years...I remember one visit to Florida just outside an Army Base (where G'pa had canteen privileges) G'pa read his book the whole time, never looking up, he was dismayed dad wouldn't accept an officer's commission at the start of the Korean War...one in 4 Lieutenant's perished in battle, and on the advice of my precious Irish Grandfather on my mom's side, chose to begin a family...and here I am, writing this story...
Sometimes it's not easy to take the time to pray
We run off with our scheduling, out into the day
We can't take the time, we're running late
The bills are overdue
So prayer gets set aside, with more important things to do
So its off to work or off to school, perhaps a manicure
And grocery shopping's on the list, that's a must for sure
But on the way to Walmart an un-expected flash
And somewhere out of no-where, you end up in a crash...
Life is fading from you, like sand from an hour glass
And now your seeing visions, of your busy past
At first you see the bright lights and someone calls your name
your not sure at this point...hoping that your sane
Then all appears as dark...and you feel a sense of loss
And somewhere now in all of this your mind takes you to a cross
Where on a hill way back in time, the Savior died for you
And then a still small voice is heard...seek me and I'll bring you through
All at once your eyes are opened....you see the light of day
And at that moment, their are tears...It's not Too Late To Pray
Your train, your train, your train, your train,
Your train, your train, your train, your train,
Your life's steel framed history: your train!
Heaven still a mystery: your train!
Miles of track you never laid,
Hands that barely know a spade,
(Steaming through both town and Glade): your train!
Your train, your train, your train, your train,
Your train, your train, your train, your train,
NIH (1) your rolling stock (2): your train!
Scheduling that's not ad hoc: your train!
Thunder heard across the nation,
You're at best a re-creation,
(Firefly hatch (3) destination): your train!
Your train, your train, your train, your train,
Your train, your train, your train, your train,
Sun's eclipse is coming soon: your train!
Man and horse chase cloistered moon: your train!
Are you famous? Not quite yet!
Shaded smiles are all you get!
Shadow end to my vignette: “Your Train!”
Long Tooth
June 7, 2017
Poets Notes:
(1) NIH = Not Invented Here… The sad thought that if it is not my idea or creation, then it probably has little merit.
(2) Rolling Stock = Possessions that you manage to pull along with you.
(3) Firefly hatch = Subdued sparks of flashing light in the night.
time seems sometimes to stand so still
and seems to have raced by while I was spending it
I now have a rather large and growing collection
of un fulfilled dreams
I tell myself it's a minor scheduling problem
I can't believe it yet
It saves time
worrying how much is left
Life Is Terminal
By: Olivia Rodrigue
Though there is light ever present
It fades, flickers and is swallowed
Life passes in snippets and snapshots
moments and memories
heads full but hallowed
As people we are more than one person in life
we are us
we are we
we are friend, lover sister, brother
Learning so much yet so little is recalled
facts and figures memorized
we walk around
one goal to reach
oblivious to another
As people we have culture
Stipulations and norms
We behave as we’re told
We learn to live by laws
Behave by rules
Earn by adherence and grow old
Each facet is different in each face
Each a running tale
Each wrinkle and blemish
Each scar
Each bruise
Each figure
An outward expression of a life
A story untold
As a person we are inherently egocentric
We judge by the smutty strands slipping off the shadowy shivering silhouettes of strangers
Though we know next to nothing of their unraveling tales
Perfection is a nonexistent concept that we unremittingly, unfeelingly, unwittingly try to achieve
Success is never easy
He, She, It learns this
by creating, planning, scheduling, and meticulously marauding time
Then life laughs
And He, She, It watches
as their plans deteriorate and generate a belligerent sequel
where He, She, It fails
Time can be measured, set, and meticulously planned
Clocks, time zones, minutes, hours, days, months, years
Are all man made
But time cannot be borrowed, manipulated, or created
It is constant like gravity
Trails treaded
tastes devoured
experience and wisdom gained in minute packages
our world is one of many
each perception a glimpse at another universe of captured time
roads revealed are but small glances of an unabridged reality
Life is terminal
Like light it is a cycle of brilliance and blackness
Forever is a delusion
as are never and always
We are the lucky ones
Though the physical impression of our inimitable footprint may leave this earth
Opportunities for love, beauty, and compassion are boundless
A part of you that can be shared
A part that stays
Oh My Luxurious Mind!
What should I entitle thou
What unique name?
How to portray you perfectly,
With which auspicious flame?
My mind, you’re my worst enemy,
My weakness, my whimsicality.
I strive for you,
Still you mock at me?
My luxurious mind,
You’re a rogue, a devil I see!
You are so artful, so restlessly you move,
As the stars of the galaxy travels scheduling their loop.
You seem to be consequently full of activity,
Busy for destructive mechanism
No time to put your feet up a bit
You fly from one to my other occasion.
One scope after another, restlessly you pursue,
How can you be so bitter, a vicious destroyer?
You should be chained, the devil inner power!
You should not get so scope to be bare!
Mind, you’re never contented with adjoining comfort
Always you strive, you brawl,
How can soothe be your enemy?
You disgust your appease, you grab the utmost doubt.
You are my destroyer, you stupid!
You are so rude,
You do what you decide
You are to curse too!
You’re so egotistic; never hang around your love
Why are you still burning? Ever unsatisfied soul?
Why all the means of pleasure are not that you care of?
You’d better be buried than disturb all.