Tag Archives: poem about a workaholic

Scuttle Rebuttal

Scuttle Rebuttal

We scuttle between life’s different stages
like hamsters on wheels or rats running mazes.
In childhood, we cannot wait to grow up.
We wear our pants low and mutter, “Whuzzup?”
We think when we’re teenagers, we’ll really live
as childhood passes like sand through a sieve.
As teens, all our reckoning’s fixed on afar–—
that day when we’ll finally drive our dad’s car!
Then university becomes our goal,
or life in the factory or life on the dole
if school seems a prison and we want to skip
one of the stages so we can just zip
to earning a dollar and running our lives,
buzzing right through it like bees in their hives.
Milling and rushing—careening through life.
Barely a girlfriend before we’re a wife.
Driving kids one two three from this lesson to that
until we can’t reflect where exactly we’re at.
Grandpas and grandmas, then single once more.
Losing a spouse may just open a door
to a last  phase and the end of this rhyme.
A phase where, finally, we’ll take the time
to just sit and enjoy the stage that we’re in,
now that we’re retired and resting’s no sin.
Invest in a porch swing, a hammock or cat
that gives you a reason to be where you’re at
without moving or thinking of something to do.
Just sit yourself down. Scratch the cat. Eye the view.
Life’s more than a puzzle and more than a queue.
Take time to enjoy this life that you grew!!!


The Daily Addictions prompt today is scuttle.

Filled out Time

Filled out Time

I need an elixir, concoction or a potion 
that I can have a swig of to relieve me of the notion
that the pleasure of each moment is something to be earned
and that doing nothing is a pastime to be spurned.

I’m no good at doing nothing. Filling time up is sublime.
That’s why people take up knitting or subscribe to Amazon Prime.
When you do these pastimes, you can do two things at one time.
Have some productivity along with just a fun time.

For those athletically deprived who are actiion-phobic,
just watch a movie as you do exercise aerobic.
When dull friends visit, grab your needles. Have a little knit.
Boring conversation is more fun with yarns in it.

If time is of the essence and you find you’re in a bind,
File your nails in the movies. Your seat mates will not mind
a little sawing action or, even if they do,
chances are your neighbors will be more polite than you.

Read novels while you’re eating if you’re literarily-prone.
A problem when you’ve dinner guests? No problem when alone.
Learn Spanish as you drive around. You’ll never be a dunce
once you learn the secret to doing two things at once!

The point is that all of us driven to fill up days
do not do it out of guilt or because it pays.
Some of us just spend our day with what we love to do,
and we have so many interests that they have to form a queue.

And though I’m not given to hammocks unless I can read a book in them,
I must admit I’ve noticed how good other people look in them.
The  real secret to filling time is if you do eschew it?
It is the gospel truth— there’s no law that you must do it.

The prompt word today is Elixir.

Carefree in My Labors

IMG_1071jdb photo

Carefree in My Labors

I’m not so good at carefree, don’t know how to be gay.
When others loll out on the grass, I’m always cutting hay.
While other people spend the day on some fun and dumb thing,
something whispers in my ear I should be doing something!

When the alarm bell signals, my day’s labors start:
feeding dogs, then writing, sorting, filing, making art.
Even when at leisure, my mind is always working.
If I’m not doing something, I feel that I am shirking.

It’s one thing when you’re with someone and sharing repartee,
or watching interactions you encounter day-by-day.
It’s another to rethink all that has been done or said––
to mix them with the other things you have in your head.

If I put them all together, they make a lovely story––
sometimes love and romance and sometimes sad and gory.
And that is what I think about even in my bed.
I guess my retirement will be when I am dead.