Long In due course Poems
Long In due course Poems. Below are the most popular long In due course by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long In due course poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s a difficult thing to understand,
Maybe takes some explaining,
But Beasting was a tradition,
Just a part of military training
Helping turn the raw recruit
Into one who understands
The necessity to obey quickly
Possibly life saving commands.
The other end of my working life,
My last desperate job,
Working under the control of a
Manic bullying yob.
He would daily select his victim,
Apparently with glee,
And then verbally harass them
For all the rest to see.
You could see them almost tremble
Until the victim was named
Then visibly relax with relief as he
Was duly publicly shamed.
Day after day they took it,
His almost hysterical raves
Reasonably well paid but
I’ll treated wage slaves.
In due course it came to my turn
And I just walked out
Leaving behind me his astonished
And very angry shout.
I didn’t return to work until
All the others had gone
When I explained to him the reason
Why I’d done what I’d done.
Although they were his workers
They had the right to expect
Courtesy and consideration and
To be treated with respect.
I could see he was a little upset,
Had that look on his face,
Must have been a long time since
Anybody had put him in his place.
I must say I expected him to
Tell me I was to be fired
But he kept his distance and
Eventually I retired.
When I left apparently he continued
With his strange management style
And still the staff put up with
His daily invective and bile
When you’ve faced a Sergeant Major
You’ve been beasted by the best.
But he was just a beginner
Not even much of a test
The very worst he could’ve done
Was sack me at the end of the day,
A Sergeant Major could sling a man
In the cells and throw the key away.
In the military Beasting has it’s place,
Crazy as it may seem,
Part of the common experience to help
Build a competent team.
But, in civilian work and life
There really isn’t any excuse
It’s just inexcusable bullying
And unjustified abuse
For those who liberate the caged bird,
They also liberate themselves.
Individuals who instigate conflict for,
Monetary benefits will ultimately undergo reformation in due course.
History often repeats itself many times,
Yet some individuals fail to heed their warnings.
The Great Wall of China, was damaged by workers
As they were trying to make shortcuts to get to the other side.
The Trojan Horse was constructed with strategic thinking.
Similarly, the Berlin Wall was built as a barrier.
Today marks a competitive phase between
Temu and Shein are notable entities in the clothing industry.
It remains to be seen if they will address the challenges and opportunities within the sector effectively.
The term "Tariff" has become familiar to me over the past few months.
Shall we worry about them; shall we give in? shall we seek solutions?
Only divine wisdom can guide us during challenging times.
For those who liberate the caged bird,
They also liberate themselves.
Oh Julia, Julia Hartley-Brewer,
I touched her knee when I hardly knew her.
A punch was threatened in my face
And in due course I fell from grace.
On Question Time her face occurred,
I hung upon Julia’s every word,
Her eyes emit intentions amorous,
Her knees quite hidden from those cameras.
I dreamt of her in see-through blouses,
Sliding fingers down my trousers,
A voice so forceful yet hypnotic,
At once commanding and erotic.
I strove to erase her from my mind
But my confidence was undermined,
I was so ashamed that I shed a tear
And terminated my career.
Oh Julia, Julia Hartley-Brewer,
I touched her knee when I hardly knew her.
A punch was threatened in my face
And in due course I fell from grace.
Counting On Sheep
Don't wake me up
I have sheep on my mind and around me
Standing in rows like….well…sheep
Arranged in numerical order
They count hours down very slowly
At 7:00 a.m. I must rise with the day
It is work that defines who I am
I’m counting on sheep to wake me on time
I’m counting on them to appear or arrive
If they don’t I’ll continue sleeping
Replace them with roosters of course in due course
They know how to crow in the morning
And don’t need a warning
To wake up at 4 in proper accord
In natural order for sure
As for the sheep…well… They will be dead sheep
I will be counting on them
As dinner with beer
Thank you for your friend request.
Poem For my Poet friend Joyce Johnson.
MY WARM BEST WISHES FOR 4TH JULY TO ALL MY AMERICAN FRIENDS.
Dear Friend Joyce
I am unable to write back to you
Or even to send you a message
Due to technical reasons
I am sure
You would understand
Why.
I may leave that platform
In due course of time
Whatever big and famous it may be
Where freedom of writer
is controlled and crushed
Without any reasons and grounds
by the selfish interests of
The new rulers of internet and
By its prejudiced guards.
In my long associations
With my PS friends and even other friends
I have never used any language or
even words against any person, country, religions or
friend both male and female,
so it would not be a loss to me
Rather I would have more time
for my Musical Yoga, Paintings, Song writing and
Singing etc and other things.
With best wishes for you and
your good health and
Best wishes for all my poetry soup friends.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 3rd july 2021
If one will but convey sincerity, the world will frequently rise to their side
And powerful people flock there as well, appealing to presence and pride
Swelling the ranks and the banks and ambitions of any who will row with the crew
Or play with the band on the wagon which plays into their sycophant's view
And if we relate to the weight of this kind of collective bargain
We might rally, sallying forth to the cause, manufacturing sense, and also some rain
Turning sense into cents is a most noble cause, industry, husbandry, work without pause
Marches and rallys support those most diligent, invested in that which has brought them to light
And lighted they'll stay until death do them part, apart from the day which might cause to benight
Canine calamity follows that day just as surely as that day will follow that night
And some, but not all, will follow the path that causes this folly, before it's a cause to take flight
While we revel in clever debate and discourse, and pursue dialectic with purpose and vigor
It's with special purpose that speciousness fills all those who falsely shout "Stand and deliver"
And deliver the speeches which serve to dissemble in due course their own course to serve
It takes special skill to pursue that which isn't really a special display of infectious nerve
The skill that it takes is sincere self-deception, elevated to the point of the state of prominence
Which delivers rapscallions their status, position, all while in pursuit of their own dominance
"The world will little note, nor long remember," sincerer words were never spoken
But history will forever note the humility accompanying the grace
Beside which superficial sincerity is recorded as token
The dustpan of history has not stomach nor space
To accept from the broom these bits of delusional grandeur
Displaying with sincerity the rank similarity 'tween the means of this influence… and the scent of manure
I had a dream yet maybe it was the dream that had me
while I am on a rough journey that I had not intended
the final separation from my partner and lover
who is on her own path of self-discovery
that does not hold any place for me any longer
I held a vessel in both of my hands a boat float or barque
that held all my material and emotional possessions
there was some sort of cabin a home and centre point
then the mud arrived and submerged everything there was
when I began to scratch the surface most everything was gone
but two Olive trees close to each other but not intertwined
my sub-conscience did not reveal whether it was her and I
or her with a new man or maybe another woman
it could be me with a new partner as well in due course
the bigger tree was her with no doubt this is what she wanted
the other merely a measly shrub but with some sprouts trying their best
maybe just two trees of life showing there is some connection
that the soil is fertile and floods slides and disasters would pass
the most important revelation however appears to be
that even after the deluge I was still holding the vessel
and the slimy sludge may well hold the fare for the future
Enslaved by clocks time piece, degenerating cold
Hours on end, defined as denigrated, old and retired
On movements standing still, of slow motion hands going nowhere fast
I wait in pain for her, my lover, with empathy endured
On shores of emptiness with hope, a cure for our tomorrow
Anticipation ends, when she approaches happy on the path again
Glowing as she laughs to break the curse of times embrace
Free to be released together once again forever
Soft feathers hide beneath, in pillows on the bed in secret
My love returns to me
We begin to settle with the covers fold
Concealed by morning for our privacy
As we become the lovers that we can
Fill in the vacancy of stolen moments in an instance with a kiss
Haunting desolation replaced by tenderness
We fall complete into the pillows dream
Flowing over meadows lavender
Heathers slow motion caresses gentleness
Waves of beauty through the breezes flow
In gestures royal above calm heavens held in hand
To fall in love as once before, once again, once more
We hold each other tighter for the warmth
Somber love endures into tomorrow in due course
Fallowed mind on barren ground toils
Winter's cold streams radiant beams foil
No incubating current cuts through the dense soil
Muses' bright glint the dark, thick clouds roil
Blipping sparks can't light my sensory console
A dormant seed sprouts on a rocky knoll
Promising strands on frozen surface stroll
Chilling winds over shallow-rooted thoughts troll
Vapid ideas from stagnant un-imaginative threads loll
Without depth, the promising figments spoil
In due course, Spring's thawing tides do roll
On horizon's mount, azure panels scroll
The brighter patches degenerated conduits parole
Fecund spores with soaring visions cajole
Wispy tufts of dander blow into cranial hole
Into thawing seams, germinating inspiration bowls
Enervating muse, implanted seeds into interstices dole
Granules of wisdom brim from gilded boll
Leaving pod, enthralling, pearly grains silt the soul
The congealed fabric spins around each, sensory pole
Ginned fibers into imagination's colorful tapestry burrow
An ambitious druid set out to recover an omnipotent ancient fluid
She was a kind witch with a wee twitch about to discover a glitch
Laboured with great force to go back to the Source and in due course
She tabled a motion to produce a lotion or potion for better emotion
Applied for a grant to enchant with the Council of Fairy Queen Dreams
Because she was sicken and poverty stricken and needed support to comfort
Required assistance to overcome resistance to cast a spell and quell the cartel
Of warring factions that had gained traction shouting war score and gore
‘Let me make some agent at the sorcerers’ pageant and tame insane pain
That derives from seeds of greed and loony fixation on vicious vexation’
She ground fresh chamomile with a smile for healing dope in good hope
Crushed tea tree leaves and stinging nettle petals for release of peace
As foundation for libation she added more tricks to the mix and stirred fur
And holly berries infused and enthused cherries and compassion with passion
To fuel the tasty gruel she injected thyme and some lime and peat for a treat
Boiled the kettle full mettle with wood from the beach and threw in a peach
She sat on a willow pillow and offered for free her meal for people to heal
No taker they thought she’ a faker so for their concern she added some fern
And to convince she put a handful of quince and cold marigold into the fold
Yet when she accepted that people were too infected and simply objected
To spreading good will with delicious food skill she exclaimed 'what a shame’
Feasted on spruce juice and a tooth and went into space to start a new race
Starting from zero she became a hero and hailed a rage with heavenly sage
They built her a shrine with galaxy wine and accepted what earthlings rejected
The moral of the tale is when all else fails you find an innovative place to grind
Change perspective and position and decide to complete your fine mission
Where you can feed other’s need without angry fear of what is so dear
16th October 2019