Best Unprofessional Poems
I spend a lot of time to write
A syllabus for class:
These are the rules, the dates of tests,
The points you need to pass.
I even make a video
Where I sit and explain
What’s written in the syllabus
So that they can’t complain.
I make a lovely website, too,
With all the files. They can
Find schedules, homework, old exams,
Who teaches where and when.
Yet nonetheless, the emails come.
“When is the homework due?”
“I heard there are no labs this week.
Say, is this really true?”
“I did not know there was a quiz.
Please, can I take it late?”
“When is my lab?” “We have a test?
I cannot make the date!”
It drives me nuts. They did not read.
I feel the urge to yell –
Of course, that’s unprofessional,
And so I simply tell
The student: “In the syllabus
It states, right on page two …”
And quote the lines – because, what else
Am I supposed to do?
5/9/2017
For contest What annoys you
Sponsored by Frank Herrera
Categories:
unprofessional, school,
Form:
Quatrain
No one lied, get it out of your mind
Don't start badmouthing again, putting your foot in your mouth
knocking your teeth around
You saw the warning signs, you are not a rodeo clown
This isn't new to you
this happened before, it was bound to happen
Without struggle, there can't be progress
This anticipation is making you scared, hyper aware
ignore your body signs to run, you hold it in until you're done
breathe a sigh of relief at the finish line
It'll come in time, stop holding your breath
frustration release
You knew it was all too easy
how 30 mins of your time was all took to get a straight answer
now you're crumbling here in near grief
40 mins is a bit excessive and unprofessional, yes
but just sit tight
don't run, don't you dare
You've been through too much to just walk out the door
You just gave a pep talk to the world or at least to your readers
now you're here banging your head on the walls
your fingers tapping away at your keyboard
waiting for your name to be called with baited breath
This has happened before, this happened before don't forget it
This has happened before, don't you dare quit
Look me straight in the eyes and tell me you get it
look me straight in the eyes and tell me you'll beat this
This is nothing
Stop hoping someone else will come through and save you
no one can save you but well me…
see your reflection there?
I am you and look what happened?
You did it…
We did it…
I did it…
I DID IT!!!!!
…
Is it wrong for me to be proud of myself
Is it wrong for me to look forward to the future
plan my own outcomes
Is it wrong for me to celebrate, celebrate this win
this win I've achieved
Is it wrong? Am I wrong?
I fear I am never nor ever feel like I belong
let's see if I belong here
My physical ability says no but I'll toughen it out anyway
I need this
God, help me, I need this
Mother, keep me strong
I need this
I just hope all my sore limbs don't fall off in the process
Categories:
unprofessional, courage,
Form:
Free verse
(On May 1 1960, at the very depth of the
Cold War, CIA pilot Gary Powers was shot
down over the central USSR. Here we are
imagining his conversation with a charge
d'affaires of the US Embassy. Powers
is threatening to go public on CIA
mismanagement and to tell all to the
Russians - the Igors and the Borises.
Powers died soon afterwards in a
helicopter crash.)
What's Thompson's game? He's sent a charge here?
He should have come himself. So, Mister Jinks,
I'm going to assume you're with the firm.
Tell you what happened? Why don't you tell me?
Okay, I didn't trash the Thunderbird -
but I was kinda busy, get my drift?
My face was pulling g's to beat the band
and if you knew the vehicle, you'd know
the seat ejects like bats fly outta hell -
explosive bolts. I'm falling vertically,
and spinning like a top, and if I get
alignments wrong by half an inch,
the console cuts my legs off when I spring.
So what? So this. I had things on my mind.
You want your secrets kept? So train us right.
Foresee contingencies.
The silver buck?
I chucked it. Threw it, as the chute came down,
but kept the pin. The Igors have it now.
Well fella, you got questions and to spare,
and I don't like the way they're shaping up.
Oh sure, you got your job to do. Me too,
remember? I'm the guy who got his ass
shot out the sky at sixty thousand feet!
I didn't buy the farm. Is that a sin?
Tell Langley I'm an Amish - what the hell?
I told them it's curare.
Get real, pal!
They may be Borises, but I won't have
some guy get stiffed because he pricked his thumb.
They'd find out anyhow. You bet I have!
I got more beefs than Texas. Pin 'em back.
Nobody thought it through, this turkey-shoot,
or what we'd do, dumb Joes like little ol' me
when Igor got us. Unprofessional!
Now bust your ass, and get me outta here.
When I get back, I'm gonna tell the world
how Langley hangs its fly-guys out to dry.
We got a First Amendment. Let 'em try!
Categories:
unprofessional, history,
Form:
Blank verse
If to you professionalism of a soldier
is robotic obedience to orders for murder,
then count me out,
I'm not a lout,
I'm much more than that silver dog tag's serial number !
Categories:
unprofessional, philosophy, political, social,
Form:
Limerick
A Concealed exercise concocted,
Wuhan Lab the playground,
secretive China obliges,
Western media consenting,
Medical experts silenced.
the age of censorship,
Dictators feigning incognito,
The diurnal and nocturnal schemes of top players,
A script before the scourge,
The drama of emergencies
A death unwarranted
alternative cure submerged,
Pharmacopia playing god,
opinions censored,
Freedom becomes a crime
Men afraid to die,
adorned in masks as domesticated vermin,
Socialist alarmed at Cowards
As dictatorship ascending in western democracy,
Ignorance elevated as advocate for CDC
Unending Speculation by tyranny
The weekly changing rules.
Connivers employing Fear,
Orchestrations and the Mournful diddy
Alpha
Beta,
Gamma
Delta,
and Omicron the game changer.
Controlling the world by unproven conjectures
First it was the Mask,
Then social distancing,
Sanitize, Isolation without empathy,
The numbers defiant,
The People's servants globally consenting to experiment
with the speed of a wing
The Lab Lords proposed a cure,
Greed conspired , the masses the guinea pigs,
Unverified Vaccine,
defrauding all of the liberty of Choice,
unprofessional medical rape,
breaking the Laws to invoke their Laws,
Rulers Turned scientists
Dictator found their Voices
compelling all to dine in an experiment
“safe and effective” the chorus of bias profiteers
Society divided.
“Vaxxed” VS “unvaxxed”
All Watching TV to form opinion.
Australia copies UK,
subjecting citizens to barbarism
America copies Australia,
senseless cohesion in place of Freedom,
France copying America,
Ignorant Cops abusive,
opposing sensible resistance,
The Truckers made a mark
though clamped down by tyrannical “emergencies”
The unending Jabs,
four times in Israel curing nothing,
A false sense of security,
The demand sales pitched
Experiment over, The Data concealed
To protect a Lie,
A massive Fraud,
The UK law breaker suspends mandates,
avoiding the sword of Damocles
And they all one by one taking turns
accepting failures while others in denial
ignoring the damage of trial
Categories:
unprofessional, abuse, america, confusion, corruption,
Form:
Free verse
By George P. Lumayag
https://georgelumayag.weebly.com/
I did boot up OS XP,
Did boost signal and built school website.
I did surf the net; accessed the school site
And published things right.
It’s for public Google eye and sight,
But critiques were posted left and right.
Slur Texts: u r ePAL… and unprofessional ….
In my program, it’s not that easy coding unknown data,
Unacceptable to an ordinary public figure as metadata.
When I traced critic’s IP address,
It seemed the mask known to me.
It’s not Shakespeare but it’s Joker!
If that runs my Windows,
The desktop might have a deadly icon;
The system infected by a worm.
It’s time to switch off wrathful attacks!
Now, trust me to hide your blogs and forms.
Categories:
unprofessional, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
EVERY TUNIC’S TUCKED
squeamish that every tunic’s tucked
on one side, lopsided, uncouth
on the page, in the book - why is
every model told to tuck her hand
inside her pocket, jam her socket
into her pants, plunge me into distress.
If they want us to buy online, can’t
we size it up ourselves. I laugh
like crazy…going crazy…the lazy
love to push buttons and tuck.
well i’m out of luck, looking through
glaring pages, glossing over, needled.
insensitive to my plight? perhaps
you have your own quirk. don’t
laugh behind my back…hit me
on the chin. just don’t tuck your tunic
with your hand in one pocket. i panic
at the unprofessional modelling. i turn
away, i scorn, i feel sick. the lazy
like to set up every one the same.
their camera should be ashamed…
how lame. let me speak…let me shout.
i was kidding about the chin -
keep it to yourself…
Categories:
unprofessional, angst, clothes,
Form:
Light Verse
I’ve misplaced my phone,
no I haven’t, I’ve lost it.
It’s nowhere in my home
and no matter where I look, I can’t come across it.
You’ve probably done similar things like that before
like leaving your car keys inside your car,
and then locking yourself outside your car door.
I lost my phone, wallet and cash within the course of a week
and then suddenly it hit me like an unexpected rain.
This is my unprofessional conclusion to all of my confusion,
Schizophrenia Sympathy Pain.
Much like the loved ones who witness the terms of pregnancy of their beloved,
they often experience sympathy pregnancy pains as if it were real.
When it comes to Sympathy Pain, Schizophrenia also has it covered.
IT got a huge helping of the Sympathy Pain deal.
I used to watch my poor son, stricken with this horrible thing,
pacing and laughing and talking without a care.
He seemed so happy and this picture would be perfect, if not for one thing.
He was carrying on with someone who just wasn’t there.
One day I happened to accidentally videotape myself.
I forgot that my camera was still recording me, but all just the same,
I once again caught a glimpse of my ailing mental health.
More Schizophrenia Sympathy Pain.
There I was just like he, rambling on endlessly,
talking out loud to no one. I was home all alone
and as if in a competitive race, just like he I would pace
with vocalized imagined conversations of my own.
Even though I realize that I was just talking aloud to myself,
and that unlike he, I was always aware, no one else was there.
Still, Schizophrenia Sympathy Pain creeps up on me with the greatest of stealth.
Schizophrenia Sympathy Pain will always be my cross to bear.
Schizophrenia Sympathy Pain will always haunt me and continue to remain
While My Son suffers with REAL Schizophrenia Pain.
Categories:
unprofessional, healthme, pain, lost, car,
Form:
Rhyme
If one could be provided and sustained completely,
raised and educated by self maintaining computer machines
without ever having been exposed or aware of anybody
and live a life of complete solitary,
I believe that would increase the individual's longevity
even to the extent of immortality possibly
on the premise that we all do die eventually
due to life's ever ongoing tragedies.
Misery sucks the life out of you eventually
destroying your health gradually,
but if one has never experienced tragedy
or the strong hold of love's dependency,
there'd be no wear and tear on the individual's mind and body,
thus increasing the individual's life expectancy,
possibly even to the extent of immortality.
In any event, that's my unprofessional theory,
although I'm sure most will see it as delusional fantasy.
Categories:
unprofessional, education, fantasy, life, life,
Form:
Rhyme
YOU dressed me down today
for interupting your conversation
said I was unprofessional
Don't you get, I care bout the patient?
How DARE you speak to me like YOU DO
Your education does not negate the fact
You can't talk to people, the way YOU DO
in fact, you can kiss my ass
I appreciate stuff the stuff you done
Stuff that should have been done anyway
we give you alot, more than our families
recognize that
I quit
Categories:
unprofessional, caregiving, health, work, education,
Form:
ABC
A Moratorium On Training More Lawyers?
By Elton Camp
With the job market for lawyers being saturated
It’s time that most of the programs be terminated
It surely seems that the law schools could understand
That the supply of attorneys already exceeds demand
That is why unprofessional things the law firm tries
Like openly and flagrantly beginning to advertise
Would any other profession stoop low to do that way?
“Let me take your uterus out,” would a doctor ever say?
Would a college professor advertise, “My class is best
And your learning here will be better than in the rest?”
Lawyer ads have a small-print disclaimer at the end
But for the oversupply of them, ads wouldn’t begin
Even to the law student, it’s unfair to crank more out
Then to make a decent living they find there’s doubt
On contingency, injury lawyers usually offer to serve
And unless they win the case, no payment do deserve
A losing client may need to pay the winner’s cost & fees
Most who sue are unaware of possibilities like these
Categories:
unprofessional, business,
Form:
Rhyme
Office manager Mr. Honey Badger called his administrative assistant Mr. Bloodhound into the office. Honey badger was extremely mad because he looked out of his office window and could see that the employees in the office were whispering and snickering and not working. Honey Badger told Bloodhound to go out and sniff out what was going on.
It seems that the accountant, Mr. Rooster, and the receptionist, Miss Hyena were having a torrid love affair. Well, Mr. Rooster was crowing about it and Miss Hyena was laughing about his performance. And to top it all off, Mrs. Mockingbird was repeating everything she heard all around the office.
Well Mr. Honey Badger called them all into the office and sent them to see Mrs. Lion, the HR manager. Mrs. Lion told them in no uncertain terms that if they failed to cease their unprofessional activities at work they would not be returning after lunch.
Mr. Honey Badger never had another problem with his employees.
Categories:
unprofessional, animal,
Form:
Prose
Ticking hands pace
My night eyes turn to flames
Non-existent finger nails bury into delicate olive-toned skin
I have received nothing.
911, my apologies the damage is already done.
Behaviors unbroken
Never aided by the suit which embraces
That unprofessional professional
Tears of neglect rain down
This is the solitary procedure which could quell the breaths of my illness.
Ghosts of the mind-
Never conquered
Never defeated
Never died.
My desire is to venture into the light,
Though darkness and sepia lenses reign supreme here.
In the killing space there is no bulb-
No golden glow to enhance the way
No sight of tomorrow
No thought of yesterday
I lie;
Breathless,
No bushy tail
No bright eyes
Only sepia.
Sepia lenses incinerate my hope.
Categories:
unprofessional, angst, caregiving, confusion, depression,
Form:
Free verse
When It Really Is the Teacher’s Fault
By Elton Camp
This is the excuse that we sometimes see
“I did that bad cause teacher don’t like me.”
It is far too easy to attempt to shift the blame
And the teacher is a convenient one to name
Yet, there are cases almost beyond any belief
Where the teacher is a scoundrel and a thief
To accept his monthly paycheck he has nerve
When he had done but little any pay to deserve
Tenure keeps a teacher from being unfairly fired
So that the principal’s own brother can be hired
But the incompetent and simply lazy it can shield
That’s why some states such laws have repealed
Often employed by such an unprofessional jerk
Is assigning mindless and excessive homework
On family life such as this has become a blight
Dominate kids all day and control ‘em at night
About student work he doesn’t really give a heck
And throws the papers away without even a check
Teachers like that surely need to be shown the gate
To wait for them to retire is just entirely too late
Categories:
unprofessional, educationteacher, teacher,
Form:
Rhyme
Not bringing along my tool
Has me made a fool:
A gross violator of workers’ first rule,
A copyist of the stubborn mule
And one to again lend time to some school…
And here I am, seated, “Very Cool”,
Unrestrainedly gazing at a purplish pool,
Though I’d deserved all but a viewing stool.
Categories:
unprofessional, work,
Form:
Rhyme