Short Schedules Poems

Prepared for when Death
schedules his meeting, I… 
A patient landmine...

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We had to Spring forward,
now we must Fall back,
if we are going to keep
our schedules on track....

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Scratched Scarred and marred
Remembers times and schedules
Tarnished yet ticking

By Robb A. Kopp...

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death hovers bedside
hollow eyes without pity
alone with my guilt
explanations meaningless
schedules must always be met...

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time piece
sundial
circle of life
darkest grim reaper
an unexpected birth
yearly appointments
monthly schedules
calendar
time piece...

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Schedules are so packed full and noisy
nothing seems reachable and easy
yet another wasp
a target for grasp
from noon till night, all stay so busy...

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Wise men
Somberly Pondering
Over Imponderables
What if.........
Why not .......

Cut, Cut .....

Master Tailors
Or Gardeners
Snipping at Schedules
And Budgets .....

Topiarists!...

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gone

are free

tomorrows

held in summer

days of vacation

that August ends

as schedules

arrive

here





August 10, 2019
Caren Krutsinger's August Ninette Poetry Contest...

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We check in.
We check out.
Daily we scuttle about.
We have a time clock that consumes us,
And we continually pout.
We do not own our time clock.
We are on our Masters time.
Schedules that consume us are but mere sublime....

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Golden shoulders
Green grass

Bright nails
Faded shirts

Big sunglasses
Little movement

Water fights
Washed cars

Busy schedules
Lazy afternoons

Floating rivers
Sinking sun

No sweatshirt
No inhabitions

I'll miss you, summer....

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I'm barely hanging on myself,
But you're too busy to notice.
So wrapped up in your own lives,
I'm easliy forgotten.
I'm the one,
Juggling all our schedules
Just so we can hang out.
Playing messenger,
So we can all stay in touch.
I thought that I could do this,
But I'm barely hanging on myself....

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The Wax of our Being

schedules arise within
time's seeming presence..
placed with  projections
of time's spacial future..

our freedom is at stake
as the schedule separates
and controls..

until we recognize
these thoughts and
projections are all
made of the
Wax of our Being......

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DIVERSION

distraction abides
digression paints winds of change
departure conveys impending schedules
disclaimer as others watch their flowers grow
diverting fear from life’s ebb and flow
deterrents will come and go
disputing certain

DIVERSION




© Kim van Breda—13 January 2015...

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How slow but steady 
You are Mr Clock
Just a step every moment
Round and round
In circles
You're never tired
Not meant to rest
You love it that way
You tell me when to sleep and
When to rise 
My schedules rests upon 
Your shoulder
Every step you take
Marks the passing of time
Seconds, minutes 
Hours' days
Months and years
Until the end of time....

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Look at all the men
captive to their “9 to 5’s”
suit-and-tied up
or rather, tied down
by overbooked schedules
and overdrawn bank accounts.
Checking in and checking out
from check to check
and check it out…
they call themselves free,
because they are free
to quit their “9 to 5’s”
when they check out
permanently
to heaven. 

07/19/15...

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The envelope finally arrived
Sticking out from the mailbox
Slightly opened
I feared the worst. 

Hurried to hurry
Initial pay,
Publisher promised
5 things inside

Welcome note
Tentative publication schedules
Important questionnaire
Agreement insert
Money order for my 3 poems.

 Inside envelope
 Everything  
 But money order 
 A poet’s life....

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He leans against
the silent factory
as bustling parrots
regard his plight
with heartfelt indifference
bathed in the glow
of touchscreen devices
and the notion of
absolution through
repetition.

Heels clack firm
paced on schedules
trampling the dust
into pavement cracked
and pocked like
the lamentable stares
of cardboard refugees
sprawled limp beside
grates pumping
exhaust....

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Where do birds go,
Late, late, at night?
Do they hide behind the clouds, of a dark, starry night?
Or, are they just out for a flight?
Oh, you will hear them chirp, chirping away,
What is their language, what words do they say?

Are they chatting about their schedules, for the next Son-filled day?

Where do birds go,
Late, late at night?

Up to the heavens,
As they say, goodnight....

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If there was no time before the Big Bang
Was there nothing or something other ker-banged
There was no morning, afternoon or night
Before the Universe was put out to endless flight

Concepts that we find are so useful in our lives
Appointments and times schedules will not jive
But in the infinitesimal void of the universe
Who would really care for what it is worse.

© Paul Warren Poetry...

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Theree was always a party...through
 nature's diagonal rings there seems
 to be, appearing against the sun, 
some irate lust for companionship 
in humans.  Mad scientist amuck
 about the land, all on different 
schedules, different interests.
 They never get the opportunity 
to walk around their own body...to
 view themselves as 
semi-self-constructed circuitry.  
With a thirst for air....

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Simultaneous the sting,
Those who two-time on the wing.
Each at fault began the fling.
Subterfuge, a complex thing.

Schedules smeared and rearranged.
Missing gaps in time explained.
Lies to memorize, maintain.
Learn the lying details game.

Shelf life of adultery
Locked away for none to see.
Those who trusted while deceived,
Hold, and rightly so, the key.



Gene Bourne.
06-26-14...

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You don’t like my structure;
Sit and call me sell out,
as you reap each reward;
Scoffing at discipline,
get up and try coward;

You don’t like my structure,
schedules drive you mad;
Complain yet do nothing;
Sleep whenever you want 
with a hand out yawning;

You don’t like my structure 
eating what I worked for;
Stop hanging on me then! 
I’m done with your comments;
I won’t be dragged again....

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The conspiracy bent..

Lives seem twisted and separations canyons..

Apocalyptic schedules have passed disappointing..

Family dysfunctions rampant and searing..

The suffering implodes..strong triggers are these

Begging the discovery of..simply appearance..the 

Passing of jagged dark stories..which have

Managed to transport many to oily blackness..

Invitations issued for a nighttime dance......

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At times, I must flee routine and city work-life,

     leave behind my daily schedules and office strife

          to linger unrushed where nature remains untouched,

               its splendid beauty neither man-brushed nor time-hushed.

When I cannot escape to nature’s lilting scenes

               my natural faith aches and wilts in crooked leans.








... CayCay
April 1, 2019...

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it all depends on how you frame it...
waiting on what is yet to come...
you can sit and wait all day...
but it's your schedule...
it is momentary...
it's blindness...
what to do...
shhh...
quiet...
forget...
schedules...
dark futures...
there is only now...
the next step's yours...
slow and take your time...
patience is the given virtue...
what is next is but your decision...
it all depends on how you frame it......

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