Long Workload Poems
Long Workload Poems. Below are the most popular long Workload by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Workload poems by poem length and keyword.
VAV
May the magic
of your pen rhymes
Like a beautiful song
in grime
As the melody
accompanied by a chime
Let it come for
the music to shine
WHT
For lovely moments
are designed by music
In its cool tunes
To define loose bodies' rhymes
and poses alcoholic
To show its pure aesthetic
The great inspiration
that trick our pens magic
VAV
Sway it to the rhythm
of our melodies,
Like dancing souls
In the wind breeze.
Our pens collaborating
In beautiful poetic thoughts
Are the inspirations
and flames we fought.
WHT
Far from the reach of office
All stances are good a station
To dye on papers; aegis
Which safeguard every inspiration
Twinkle little bright change
Comes in a bit occupied of muse
That lurks around so strange
The heart to new views
VAV
Listen to the hearts
In every curves drawn
As the dawn of the new
Beginnings shown
We'll fill the earth with love
That we share
WHT
Thoughtfully, permit the inner ear
To sharpen your curvy mind
And light the lofty ideas endear
Which seems overwhelming a workload to grind
For cheers will rent the passage of thy heart
When you find love in this art
VAV
Let it come,
Let us paint the sky
With care
As we blend our inks in pair
To shout our emotions either in bad or in despair.
WHT
Let it flow,
Let us row the boat on the sea
To show
The precious jewel our quill decree
That pictures the night and day as friends aglow
VAV
Like the crashing waves in the shore
Kissing my feet with its roar
WHT
In its awesome effect I am made whole
Training my mind, soul, and heart of different role
Copyright
Ven-Lyn A. Valdez
&
Wems Henry Temmy
You set the tone
This you know
With every moan
You let it show.
Sometimes it’s fair
Or maybe great
Fickle air
Will choose the fate
I can’t be certain
On any day
Behind your curtain
What show will play
So I prefer
Solitude
I need not stir
Because you move
I needn’t wake
When sleep is calling
There’s no debate
Yes, I’m stalling
Procrastination
It’s what I do
Postponed embracing
My feet are glue
There’s a reason
I am myself
Life’s not pleasing
The cards, I’m dealt
So I move slow
Avoiding “pleasure”
For, I know
My trash, your treasure
I hope you go
And socialize
Bring overflow
Of pre made lies
“She’s real sick
Her goldfish passed
Workload, thick”
You know they’ll ask
How rude it sounds
To speak the truth
“She’s overwhelmed
Ran out of juice”
But if, by chance
You understood
This caution dance
Would prove no good
You’d be proud
Of who I am
You’d say aloud
“She’s just a clam
She can’t talk small
Or play pretend
It’s none or all
She doesn’t bend”
Your head held high
You’d move along
No loss of pride
Nothing’s wrong
To handle dreadful time, to cherish it
although I have no gall for such-
past the ennui of night’s workload,
this jive which I embrace relentlessly
fizzles like soapsuds in my nails;
a voice quelled with the dirt of blue mood…
How lethargy chokes me, its tar roasting
my senses humid as air, more apt for birds,
that I cruise along an alley where piano tunes
with acoustic strings invite a certain madness--
the scent of rhythm and blues perks
ached limbs, gradually tapping a free
movement pleading abandon…cheeks lighten,
enthralled by an opulence of notes;
till I scream, yes, time, though you're a dreadful bane,
I will hold you wildly, once again.
1/6/2018
For Craig Cornish: Blue Contest
Natural
I remember my dad, oh, he was a fine man, and he loved my mom so, they
loved all the children so much. I adored mom's touch and her sweet hugs each
day. We had a cat or six and we got lots of licks, sometimes they ran from us
but gran always held one. We really loved to cook pies, they could win a prize.
Mom ... me in the garden, the workload no burden, the flowers were divine
dad said they were sublime. Gran liked her rocking chair, rock ... rock without
a care. I have good memories ... our house was vintage old. To a park we strolled. I skated on a hill, my skates went to goodwill. Oh, my young years
were good, with a happy childhood !
Visual
I remember my dad,
oh, he was a fine man,
and he loved my mom so,
7 they loved all the children so much.
5 I adored mom's touch
and her sweet hugs each day.
We had a cat or six
and we got lots of licks,
7 sometimes they ran from us but
5 gran always held one.
7 We really loved to cook pies,
5 they could win a prize.
Mom ... me in the garden,
the workload no burden,
the flowers were divine,
dad said they were sublime.
Gran liked her rocking chair,
rock ... rock without a care.
I have good memories,
7 our house was vintage old
5 To a park we strolled.
I skated on a hill,
my skates went to goodwill.
Oh, my young years were good,
with a happy childhood !
Midway through evening light and dawn
another passage of tomorrow floats;
as whispers are to cotton leaves
lingering in some quivers of ticks
between warm teapot and lamp’s glow;
the phone rings in a hush-a-bye,
chiming low, your breath draws a sigh
to tell me how workload steals hours
from the music of love's call.
And I start thinking of unmet dreams,
where coffee and Sunday mornings
hum while we watch those classic films
or drive out of town for a getaway:
I light a fragrant candle which reminds
me of hours less spent with you;
and this time, my breath draws a sigh...
yet, the fondness of devotion keeps me
from turning away, the one that makes
my patience hang on to see us through,
if only you would let me into your heart
long enough till miles of birds sing our tunes.
Contest of Julie Rodeheaver
'Let Me Into Your Heart'
8/21/2017
Ven-lyn A Valdez
May the magic
of your pen rhymes
Like a beautiful song
in grime
As the melody
accompanied by a chime
Let it come for
the music to shine
Wems Henry Temmy
For lovely moments
are designed by music
In its cool tunes
To define loose bodies' rhymes
and poses alcoholic
To show its pure aesthetic
The great inspiration
that trick our pens magic
Ven-lyn A Valdez
Sway it to the rhythm
of our melodies,
Like dancing souls
In the wind breeze.
Our pens collaborating
In beautiful poetic thoughts
Are the inspirations
and flames we fought.
Wems Henry Temmy
Far from the reach of office
All stances are good a station
To dye on papers; aegis
Which safeguard every inspiration
Twinkle little bright change
Comes in a bit occupied of muse
That lurks around so strange
The heart to new views
Ven-lyn A Valdez
Listen to the hearts
In every curves drawn
As the dawn of the new
Beginnings shown
We'll fill the earth with love
That we share
Wems Henry Temmy
Thoughtfully, permit the inner ear
To sharpen your curvy mind
And light the lofty ideas endear
Which seems overwhelming a workload to grind
For cheers will rent the passage of thy heart
When you find love in this art
Ven-lyn A Valdez
Let it come,
Let us paint the sky
With care
As we blend our inks in pair
To shout our emotions either in bad or in despair.
Wems Henry Temmy
Let it flow,
Let us row the boat on the sea
To show
The precious jewel our quill decree
That pictures the night and day as friends aglow
Ven-lyn A Valdez
Like the crashing waves in the shore
Kissing my feet with its roar
Wems Henry Temmy
In its awesome effect I am made whole
Training my mind, soul, and heart of different role
NOTE: This Is a duet between Ven-Lyn A Valdez: Filipino poetess and Wems Henry Temmy: Nigerian poet
It is because I’m colored bright red
that I was chosen for their homestead.
Initially, I was quite well tended
but such care eventually ended.
Sure, their attention remains constant
but it's rarely from a cleaning solvent.
I love a scrubbing; I always want it.
My service is constantly required ...
clearly, it will be until I’m expired.
Hot, cold, old, fresh, mild or bold –
my people lack any quality control.
Despite my ceaseless working roll,
they fuss at me when I overflow.
Secretly, I enjoy their anxiety ohs.
Sometimes they argue if I’m found low
or interrupt me if they feel I’m slow.
They also share their genuine relief
when they find my service complete.
You may think filth and endless workload
have me sitting on complaint overload,
but won't once you chat with their commode.
VIDEO/AUDIO-MUSIC on YouTube above. NOTE: On the video; double-click to enlarge, and/or, right-click for the drop-down menu and click on 'Loop' for auto-repeat, click settings and pick the highest level for quality viewing.
AUDIO: Song was written by a Hawaiian queen after her king dies overseas, sung by my cousin
*Tree is a Norfolk Island Pine
Our Last Hawaii Christmas
Our home looked like The Munsters house, above town road
the loft's great hall, tall tree stands near mom's grand
cut fresh from our Norfolk pine lot
distant, in the country --
colorful lights, bells, tinsels, and stuffed animals
through the french doors greet eyes beautifully.
Our curved hilltop driveway, white lights held each palm tree
six bay windows, rainbow-hued variables
the roof and dormers shone brightly
front stone stairs glowed, blued watt --
many had helped dad who meticulously planned
his trials made for a simple workload.
Our Christmas eve, *Lau Lau replaced Christmas ham mode
large gifts in the back of the tree, all fanned
while smallest stacked fronted their spot
freed tracks train chugs clearly --
mom wore reds and whites, played the grand, sung madrigals
it's Nineteen-Sixty-Nine, in Hawaii.
*Lau Lau; a small cut of butterfish added to chopped Hawaiian salted pork, then wrapped in taro leaf, lastly, stem-tied-ti leaf-wrapped and (present-day method) in lieu of ti-leaf, foil paper is used then placed in a steam cooker.
*Twas to be our last Christmas in Hawaii (Big Island),
in ensuing months, we lost our home when our great hall
parlor drapes caught fire, our family then moved to
Bath, Maine as it was heartbreaking for our parents
to bear.
2020 December 28th
A Little Memory - My Invented Form
*2nd Place*
~~Constance La France
ALOHA, to our once trimmed Norfolk Island Pines
*Due to our departure, the pines is now a forest, too tall to sell, now hardly sold publically
Time shines with diamond in my life
I’m smitten to catch, I’m enticed…
I chaste to hug and value every second
For speedy growth of my work-productions
To get the abundant fruits or flowers all in bloom.
Oh, I love every diamond of time
Squandering is remote for me, workload whines
I hate any deficit, bankruptcy or loss
For I could never bring back its swift passages
So I’ll save, use wisely…on air-
I’ll always catch, grab and never toss.
We can’t buy diamond of time
No one can measure its price
But it's found everywhere-- available and free
Valuing it is also a great appraisal
On our self-worth ---object or agree?
May 24, 2023 6.31am
Pissed off and tired, I’m not paid enough
for twenty hour days and all of this stuff.
The phone starts at seven when things have gone wrong
at three in the morning still singing their song.
Planning, correcting, resolving all things
that being in charge of our engineers brings.
Not I don’t like it, there’s no doubt I do,
it’s just I get tired when working right through.
I’ve made a few changes to soften the load
of the people whose workload I keep in my fold.
It’s early days yet and I hope I can see
the way to make changes that benefit me.
My boss is my conscience, my vision my drive,
the way I move forward, the reason I strive
is to find better ways within our Company
to help people have fun when they’re working for me.
Now money’s the God that rules Company law,
with profit the deity held up in awe.
I have to bow down to their idol I know
but there’s differing ways our devotion to show.
You can sacrifice workers, then sell your own soul
to the devil who claims all of the gold
or promise him fortunes with far more to gain
if we help all the staff to live absent from pain.
Convincing directors that following me
will help feed their need for more money to see
is an art I have mastered with skill in my years
while helping employees shed some of their fears.
Although I’m successful in feeding their greed,
the thing I am glad of is that I succeed
in making folks lives a bit better than when
they were virtual slaves to their master's pure whim.
But alas I have not reached the point where I may
reduce all the hours that I work every day.
Now this I must make my own personal goal
so I too can have fun and some time for my soul.
Ivor G Davies