Long Scheduling Poems
Long Scheduling Poems. Below are the most popular long Scheduling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scheduling poems by poem length and keyword.
"Escape (The Piña Colada Song)"
Rupert Holmes Lyrics "I never knew"
That you like piña coladas and gettin' caught in the rain
There's a line in the song that reminds me of an attempted
birthday surprise I was planning for my wife. I was scheduling
'a massage', a Christian one I might add, but later had to cancel
because 'I never knew' that my wife loves massages, but only
ones done by me. Thereafter, I started scheduling 'massages by me'.
The song has a story line with a twisting plot; a pleasing
discovery that's not likely to happen in reality. Though
rare, it is an intriguingly awesome saga. I heard the song
again today, and each time I hear it, my recall button quietly
takes me to Half Moon Bay, where I heard such a beautiful song
over the radio for the very first time more than 30 years ago.
The song had nothing to do with me or anyone I knew.
But I was arrested immediately and captured by the story.
I have learned well that my bride likes Caramel Iced Coffee.
But I must say that after 49 years, there are yet 'discoveries'
of things about my bride that 'I never knew'.
My wife and I have had 'Escapes', but not of the
'surprise variety'. I nor my bride have ever had a
piña coladas nor do we like getting caught in the rain;
but I have always feasted from the creativity in that song.
073021PS
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
“How does it feel, studying for your first exam of the semester?” My sister Annick dug at me, via Facetime.
“Oh, I’m miserable and no one even knows!” I exclaimed excitedly.
I already miss summer’s sense of infinite time and space, and life on the lake, with its big, wet, melancholy summer rains. But most of all, I miss the travel and delicious, swirling, excesses that form the dark side of long holiday freedoms.
I’ve been called excessive, I accept that and I have to check that aspect of my nature, from time to time.
“Don’t you have any brakes?” My roommate Leong once asked me, like I was some runaway train.
I remember last summer, how we almost eased into fall. As summer had faded, things changed and slowed down, as the European students turned back to their serious, ordinary lives. The bars and streets became deserted, carousels stopped spinning, arcade games were turned off, yachts sailed away, the eager summer wait-staff vanished from the elegant hotels. Brightly lit, summer-gaudy Saint Tropez became just another faded seaside town, where the paint everywhere suddenly seemed chipped and cheap.
This year, we sped up, by spending the last couple of weeks in flashy, frantic, fluorescent Manhattan - oh, man.
Then BOOM, we were dropped, as if from a great height, back into university life, back to cafeteria lines, shuttle buses and the scholastic gridiron - which oddly enough, has a lot in common with the teenage world. It was going from a-hundred-mile-an-hour adult freedom, to dealing with all the old teenage issues, like homework, tests, studying, the endless clock-watch scheduling of to and from classes - you know, the physicality of academics.
It sounds rough, I know. We’ve been told that as seniors, we can expect an even more important and frenetic emphasis on social life. Yep, we’ll be stepping things up to a whole new level this year!
Woot!! Maybe I’ll even get to wear some makeup!
.
.
A song for this:
September by Earth Wind & Fire
I feel like my brain is always plotting in secret
As though I don't know
Like, it has a whiteboard up somewhere
in a vortex like corner, where it knows I can't go. Scheduling meetings without sending me an invitation to respond yes or no
They take place when my brain thinks I'm not paying attention, but I know.
It's planning my demise, solo. It's been doing so, For quite a bit of time.
I recognize this,
as I map out the blueprints it has created with my mind
It's diabolical the lengths in which I am willing to go
to help myself find
more reasons to put myself down
Time after time
To reassure my mind that
I'm going to fail because I do all the time
At least to me in my mind
It's crazy
How this brain sometimes does not feel like mine
I try and control it
But it goes into auto pilot and
I am no longer the pilot flying,
80-90% of the time
we are falling
Don't worry, I'm always fine
Catch myself playing a role
That was designed by me but isn't mine
It's a past character I have no use for
It was useful during a certain time
But these positions my brain continues to assign are no longer roles that suit me in this state of mind
These brains we have
Are weapons
forged over time
We were not born defenseless
We have been scheming and plotting since we left the womb and assumed life outside
Our brains have the power to override information that has no space in this current time
But we have to be aware in the moment it is happening in that very time.
How the heck can I catch my brain slip
When I am constantly 5 steps behind
You can't, and that's what I learned
You literally have to drop in on meetings and share new words
Stop raising your hand,
it's time to take your damn turn
Send a memo out to the crew
We have
Extended the renovation time
An internal renovation,
For you.
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.
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
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
“I just want her to feel like she belongs."
“Don’t worry, she’ll be placed appropriately, focusing mainly on life-skills.”
“Please, no labels, it will only serve to isolate her, the last school—”
“Good news, there’s virtually no more stigma in the school over these types of learners anymore.”
“Then why does she come home crying over mean looks from other kids every other day?”
“Listen, I know it’s been a life-long struggle raising her, and I can’t imagine being in your shoes, but—”
“She is a delight. It’s her environment making the proper accommodations—that’s my struggle!”
“She is certainly a delight, but you can’t deny her disabilities make her much more challenging for us—”
“Deny? Do you think I’m in denial over her disabilities? Never, though I know some parents who are…”
“And so where does that lead us. Would you rather place her in a contained classroom, with intensive ABA therapy, focusing on the skills she will need in the type of jobs she may qualify for in the future? Or would you rather her continue to take her chances floating through gen ed.?”
“Just don’t put a ceiling on her abilities.”
“We’re being realistic s all, by using evidence-based decisions to better your daughter’s chances for success.”
“Success to me is her making a friend, asking to go on a playdate, not putting lids on jars or sitting knee-knee with some school aid drill sergeant.”
“I’m sorry, we’ve ran over our time. The next parent is waiting in the hallway. You mind re-scheduling to finish this?”
“Re-schedule? Again?”
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...