Long Administrative Poems
Long Administrative Poems. Below are the most popular long Administrative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Administrative poems by poem length and keyword.
The bedlam lifts if only for a while;
a brief but needed calm falls on the house
when she departs for school aboard the bus.
Though trying hard to suppress overt smiles,
I grin in the direction of my spouse,
for any more would be superfluous.
But storms can interrupt our best laid plans
and so it seems our calm was but an eye;
no sooner had we contemplated peace,
than fires gave way to cast iron frying pans:
a chance that funnel clouds could fill the sky
and pressures here at home might soon increase.
Who is this damned administrative fool
who brought it on himself to close the school?
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A Brisbane Sonnet: abcabc defdef gg
The moonlight bathed her cell in pallid light while she sat hunched over her desk, clutching her pen between her confound fingertips. As she bled ink of symphonic symphonies yearning to break free, dancing like ethereal fireflies in the dusky barren lands.
Exiled by the hypocrisy of bureaucracy bounding her liberations and confounding her alliterations in a poetic prison. In this twisted virtual reality, duplicitous usurpers roam freely, weaving webs of deception with malicious delight.
As the chains of bureaucratic red tape clung to her delicate wrists, suffocating her imagination and confiscating her freedom of speech.
Oppressors rejoiced at achieving their vindictive objective, silencing the profound beauty of her verses and incarcerating her poetic stanzas
Woe, how the audacious bars of administrative constructors cast a pall of despair upon her unifying spirit. Her delicate offerings of metaphors and sonorous stanzas, whispered secrets which craved to be heard.
The faulty haters' impervious hearts were armoured with verdant envy which remained shielded behind the ruling dogma.
Her supporters calls of injustice to be rectified fell on deaf ears while the galvanizing melodies of empathetic quills bled for the Empress of Ink.
So we must be louder.
Hear our protest, release our Empress! Unsheathe her rhythmical rhymes! For her penmanship was never the true crime. She was just another victim of an envious mob.
Can they not see? That her absence coursed a crater larger than the Grand Canyon.
We shall not, shall not be silenced so hear our mutiny!
Reinstate our Empress, restore her creative sovereignty.
Remove the shackles of authoritative administration, as her voice is a beacon of truth, resilience and poetic revolution. So let her ink stain our community with its brilliance once more.
*Mused by:
“At the Mercy of Doubt (My Sole Purpose)" by nat-lipstadt*
doubt, to a lover is an affliction
doubt, to a cop is an occupation.
“I checked your texts,”
“I checked your alibi,”
same energy really.
While love can make misery a hobby
law can make it a sentence
The lover doubts in whispers
the cop, doubts in paperwork
The differences are largely administrative protocol.
Must suspicion become either a pathology or a profession?
doubt, to the grieving is a questioning
doubt, to a philosopher is a beginning
doubt, to the interrogator is pressure
doubt, to a prosecutor is leverage
doubt, to the historian is revision
doubt, to a scientist is a method
doubt, to a lawyer is a strategy
doubt, to the powerful is a tool
doubt, to a witness is rejection
doubt, to a friend is a fracture
doubt, to the anxious is spiral
doubt, to a journalist is scent
doubt, to a doctor is caution
doubt, to a believer is crisis
doubt, to a patient is dread
doubt, to the lonely is echo
doubt, to a child is fear
I’ve been polishing
my own doubts recently.
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Songs for this:
Doubt (Demo) by Hippo Campus
Doubt (Live) by Anna Golden
NONPARALLEL NATURE
Novel Nature notifying nobility
Overwhelming opulence of resources to explore.
Nonparallel nonpareil
Pretty precise in perfect purity
Amazing astounding administrative affinity.
Rustic raw yet rolling on refinement
Attaining artistic adaptive ability
Liberal Law of Nature supernal
Lovely lovable luminous in diversity of life.
Emancipating eccentric ecstasy.
Leading smartest role in stirring emotions
Nurture Nature for future.
Alluring attracting your kinship to Nature.
Twined turbulence and tranquility.
Undaunted unconquerable unbounded unique ubiquity
Radical rational reasonable reality.
Enhancing evolution on excitement enrapturing, exulting admiration.
07/12/19
Contest on 'FINE TUNE THIS COLLABORATION'
Sponsor Line Gauthier
When is a practice
of separating unprivileged families
not a policy?
When a healthy democratic bicameral nation
never would
nor should
nor could
approve any such policy
Clearly
transparently the opposite of
health and happiness
equity and cooperative ecopolitical
basic human dignity
and positive family values
intent.
When is an ad hoc administrative despotic practice
not also a privileged fascist attack
on integrity of social health
to sustain mendacity of private wealth
as long as climate pathologically possible?
What is the opposite of multicultural rapture
love
health
happiness
trust
democracy
family-oriented health care
giving and receiving policies
procedures
practices?
Regardless of party affiliation
and independent thinking and feeling,
It still remains orthodox
that democracies
must be liberal with love
and health restoring justice
And stingy,
conservative with anger
fear
hate
terror
retribution
anti-family bullying
anti-unprivileged pathologies,
vengeful and mendacious injustice
deprivation
neglect
abusive separation of what God
and GreenGaia have conjoined.
If a practice is not healthy enough
for privileged you
and your privileged kids,
then it is worthy of a
child abuse and neglect public policy
against it.
My dad fell head over heels in love with my mom during their college years. Mom was a petite, a dark haired, dark skinned little angel would could warble a song like none other, with a smile that earned her the name, Sunshine! Her real name? Angel! He was a tall, handsome, fair-skinned, bearded man from a far off land named Persia. He spoke no Arabic. She spoke no Farsi or Armenian, though her father was Armenian. The very first words she ever said to him were, “Are you alright?” when he was thrown off the maintenance truck, probably because he was staring at her and not holding on. They fell madly in love…..Only later….later did they discover that she was 10 years his senior. She looked much younger. He looked much older, and this was the Middle East where age MATTERS.
A strange twist of fate
My love not defined by years
Why should it matter?
She broke up with him and she broke her own heart in so doing. He tried to stay away. Not only was she older, she was part Arab, and his mother would NEVER approve. Armenians married Armenians. If they did not do so, the race would die out. She threatened him in a letter. “If you marry that Arab, you are no longer my son!”
Forbidden…your love
My heart in state of turmoil
Family demands
The age difference was a chasm that was impossible to cross….but he loved her. He adored her…her smile…her tender heart...her beautiful voice. He begged her to come back to him. “I cannot live without you.” She had been longing to hear those words. They married, and everyone named them….the love birds. When Mom got sick with MS, it was Dad who cared for her, who wouldn't put her in a home, who shed tears for the woman who had borne him three children and had been a support to him during his years of administrative and pastoral work in Iran. He bathed her, brushed her teeth, combed her hair, changed her soiled clothes, took her for rides…the only time she felt free! He carried her down three flights of stars on his back when he had to rush to the bomb shelter….Don’t tell me love is bound to age! NONSENSE! I've seen with my own eyes…a love that defies all odds…and remains strong…to the gates of death.
My Angel is gone
The sweetest joy of my life
When you were my wife
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Hillary Rodham Clinton of Chicago,
the former charismatic first lady of USA,
a good orator and a fine communicator I’d say,
confidence drips on her ever smiling face aglow.
In the turbulent times of her life in ninety eight
she was an emblem of cool composed maturity.
Despite the fragility she upheld the family integrity,
and carved a place in the contours of dignified trait.
As a breaker of the invisible ceiling she is a pioneer,
because women’s causes are so much dear to her heart.
Worldwide girl child education drive she made to start,
deeply spiritual, for all human values she is a warrier.
Many capacities gave her administrative discernment,
despite whatever happened in twenty sixteen
the American hearts she surely deserves to win.
They may get someday in her the first woman president.
March 23, 2019
Beneath a tropical sun that glows bright,
Port Louis awakes to the shining light.
A vibrant pulse, a harmonious hum,
Where dreams arise and glowing futures come.
Modern buildings in brick and steel stand tall
Beside colonial shops near their wall,
Whispering history etched in each stone,
A heritage preserved, for ever known.
Port Louis holds a full-fledged banking heart,
With local and global deals split apart,
A commercial hub, with shops quite close by,
Packed with supplies one would dream in the sky.
It hosts an old administrative house
With government seat pitched at the sea`s mouth,
The busy harbour gleams, a sapphire deep,
Where southern breezes shielded, softly sweep.
From Caudan Waterfront, the view takes hold,
A glowing modern marvel, brave and bold.
A culture hub, the Caudan Arts Centre,
Upholds artists and singers` banner.
The streets filled with diverse shades of faces,
Reflect the mixed origins and races
Of the population, a melting pot
Of cultures, creed and colours in one spot
In city of old and new in one shot.
Young Timmy procured a small lacertilian,
Envisioning quite a grand master reptilian.
It sat on the culinary table in state,
Gulping down the cheap scraps put on its plate.
The reptile expanded twelve inches a day,
And kicked the poor terrified house cat away.
It swallowed a massive, hand-kneaded loaf—
He’s a beast now, no longer a pet or an oaf.
Timmy watched while adjusting his neon-green cap.
It sprouted a pair of scaly wings,
Obscuring the view of all municipal things.
It perched on the roof of the family sedan,
And exhaled a smoke that choked the whole clan.
The populace panicked and called for the mayor,
While Timmy was grooming his saurian’s hair.
"He lacks any malice," the youngster asserted,
"He merely requires a land more deserted."
The city’s high leaders decreed it was best,
To kick the whole mess out into the west;
Now Timmy, astride his draconian prize,
Is roasting the cows on the pastoral highs.
Epilogue
The western frontier is now completely ablaze,
Obscured by a thick and administrative haze.
The boy and his beast have established a state,
Revising the regional tax structure rate.
The local department of wildlife agrees,
The dragon can nest wherever he please.
They manage the landscape with ultimate power,
Extracting a bureaucratic fee by the hour.
I start-out fresh every morning
but my resolve is reheated
Oh, it's med-school Monday-me.
Thank god my bf understands the fact
that on weekdays my time contracts.
Be careful, she may be grumpy and jumpy.
She’s the administrative flunky
the maker of plans
who strategizes for exams
It’s Tuesday-me
I'm in my zone and likely busy
slumberless and frumpiest
a pithy, dismissive miss-prickly.
who may not have been fed
and barely went to bed
It’s Wednesday me
in over my head, but focused,
patience at its lowest
memory’s key when deep
in theories, diseases and diagnoses
steer clear of me please.
Thursday me
with a brain like ground caffeine
irritation verging on obscene
trying not to be mean but acting like a tween
I need everything 2 B done, I’m under the gun
still acquiring scads of knowledge
but prepping for the evaluations to come
It’s Friday - did I sleep?
It’s evaluation day
dressed to impress
there’s a ballet underway
of peers and professeurs
weighing and clinically assaying
how I cope under a microscope
by 3pm I’m played and frayed
but looking forward to some play.
A few laps in the Shangri-La hotel pool,
and before I know it, I’m smiling and energized,
and with a bit of surface polishing, ready to date!
Why aren’t weekends considered therapy?
Is the air lighter? Are the days brighter?
They may not be but they seem so to me.
.
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Songs for this:
Formidable Cool by Wolf Alice
Tom's Diner (feat. Suzanne Vega) by DNA
Ramble On by Toni Jevicky
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sci-fy news from med-school..
We use antimatter everyday.
With PET scans, we inject radioactive isotopes (literal antimatter) which emit positrons that interact with electrons in your body to create gamma ray bursts we can track to create a detailed 3D map of your body.