"multitasking" poems
I get up in the morning
Ride the bus to work
Hoping it'll be on time today
Cause my boss a real ****
I sit at my desk
In front of a computer screen
I'm already getting ***** looks
From patients waiting to be seen
Do this and that all at the same time
I spend the day multitasking
When will I get a break
That's what I keep asking
Well at least I have job
And money has to be made
Cause come the first of the month
The rent has got to be paid
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
So, along comes Love, who brings Passion, and Desire. Love ends up tying me up, Passion blindfolds me, while Desire takes control. Now we are ready to role. These ladies forced my hand, no plans to console. Love keeps touching my heart, has a strong hold. Passion is a work of art; touches my soul. While Desire has her *** up, legs are spread apart; trying to take control. Love keeps on tempting me, such a tease. Passion keeps begging pretty "please", while she's on her knees. Desire won't listen, But she's dying to be pleased. They blowing my mind; I'm not talking a breeze. Loves so distracting, to busy multitasking. Passions is upset, didn't like my reactions. Desire is still her, looking for some action. Love, left with Forgiveness, and Passion left with the Compassion. Desire left me for much stronger attractions. It doesn't matter, all three, were just distractions. Rather post it on Hello Poetry, probably get better reactions!
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
Parenting
organizing the day,
while the baby room adjacent
makes dreaming rock n' roll noises
siren calls to lay in bed,
semi-alert, on guard duty,
scheming about dis n' dat,
you are sleeping, dreaming,
wide awake seeing,
multitasking eyes closed simultaneously.
lesser of a poet, more a notate-er,
list keeper, note taker,
arguing with yourself inside the head,
actually feeling the thoughts
coursing, lurking, seeing both sides now,
parentally, washing the dishes
of the hours and years ahead.
while the woman-mother
makes her soprano dreaming noises,
you laugh at the orchestra of
******* sighing somnolent noises,
a cadenza of love dancing in your
irresistible wide awake dreams.
paying the bills, lying in the dark,
you wonder-worry about the agenda
unknown that will overgrow you,
fast creeping up the grain of your skin,
ivy on stone skin walls.
lala lala
you borrow baby's lullaby,
yourself calming,
keeping time, silly rhyming,
organizing the days ahead
in you head, while,
recording the harmonies of sensory inputs.
the dark provides the cloak
where you alone
feel and hear the worry and laugh lines knitting
into a single stitch of parenting.
1/20/2013
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
Wake up, wake up
The Whole World Is Watching
And your skin is crawling
I wonder why it's
Bubbling, boiling
Is it alive or am I?
Lifting the digital lid to let them in
Feeds that feed my insatiable hunger
For what my ex is doing now
Soon becomes irrelevant
When people are dying
Who will lose their life
In front of the next camera?
Why does it take so much
Just to open our eyes ?
Just to listen, just
Sit down
Get off him, please
Please.
I don’t want to hear another mother
Crying for her son
Another wife sister brother
I don’t want to watch their children
Learn why their daddy died
I don’t want to be this detached
From loss of life because I’ve lost my life
I don’t want to hear from a clown
Or discuss his position, even his mind
I refuse him my energy
I know big and he is the smallest
What is a President
Sorry, who?
What government
The one that destroys us?
Puts everyone in in cages, our strongest men, our brightest children
Makes us watch
From our couches
From our desks
Because we are that good at multitasking
Pillaging, ****** recognizing
Shrugging and closing the door
The powerful people killing real people of power
Of using color to teach color and power flowing
To keep it going
What does it mean
To put a human beneath you
We were not made for this
But we built it anyway
Was I made for this?
I don’t want to be here
God, I am lucky to be here
I am here
And it doesn’t take long
Not to be
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 10:01 PM UTC
*Multitasking is a great skill
But there is no skill more valuable
Than that of focus
A dream committed to fully
With undivided attention
Produces unprecedented results*
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
The list of regrets
That I have is overwhelming
And my friends just don't understand
I'm a perfectionist
I over think my good deeds to death
Until they are no more than
A collection of moments where I could have done better
But there are tiny fragments of moments
That given the chance to slide back in time
I would just sit back and watch
And be proud of my choices
The list of things I don't regret:
1. All the boys I've dated
Because they taught me how I should
And shouldn't be treated
2. Breaking up with the boys I've dated
When I deserved better
3. when my ex best friend gave me a letter
Apologizing for all of the snide remarks
Subtle insults
Talking behind my back
And never sticking up for me
Claiming that all of the new friends that she has
Can't compare to me
I threw out her letter and false promises
Not because I finally brought myself to hate her
But because I was finally strong enough to love myself
4. Climbing onto my roof that first time
Though I got yelled at by my
Angry mother
I got to watch the stars
And escape my worries
I found my happy place
5. When one of my friends texted me
Crying on the floor of her room with the door locked
Fearing what was on the other side
And I told her the three things
I wish someone had of been there to tell me
It's not your fault
It's abuse
Call the police
6.When I was trying to explain
An important concept
And on the fourth try
Of my sentence
I finally caught the attention of they guy
On his phone
And his extremely teenage response was
"I'm listening. It's called multitasking.
Need me to give you an explanation of how I can do it sweetheart?"
And though I'm the quiet one who doesn't speak up
Without missing a beat I responded with
"No. I'd rather you give me your respect."
And from then on
I got it
7. When I let myself trust
The gorgeous girl I met
Because in my experience
The pretty girls are the mean ones
But this one wasn't mean
She was my best friend
8. Though I had never gone as a kid
I applied to work at a camp
Though I didn't know anyone else going
I left with best friends
And the best summer of my life
9. When I read my first poem out loud
Shaking and lightheaded
Having just shared a piece of myself
And been accepted.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
reposting a poem from 3 1/2 years ago, when I knew how to write
<>
organizing the day,
while the baby room renter in the adjacent,,
makes dreamy rock n' roll noises,
siren calls to stay~lay in bed,
tho status of semi-alert,
ready to relieve Ernie and Bert,
who have the first shift covered
soon on guard duty,
scheming about dis n' dat,
you are sleeping, dreaming,
wide awake seeing,
multitasking with eyes closed simultaneously.
lesser of a poet, more a notate-er,
list keeper, note taker,
arguing with yourself inside the head,
actually feeling the thoughts
coursing, lurking, seeing both sides now,
parentally, washing the dishes
of the hours and years ahead.
while the woman-mother
makes her soprano dreaming noises,
you laugh at the orchestra of
******* sighing somnolent noises,
a cadenza of love dancing in your
irresistible wide awake dreams.
paying the bills, lying in the dark,
you wonder-worry about the agenda
unknown that will overgrow you,
fast creeping up the grain of your skin,
ivy on stone skin walls.
lala lala
you borrow baby's lullaby,
yourself for to calming,
keeping time, silly rhyming,
organizing the days ahead
in you head, while,
recording the harmonies of
sweet sensory inputs.
the dark provides the cloak
where you alone
feel and hear the worry
and laugh lines knitting
into a single stitch of parenting.
1/20/2013
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
**zero context shifts
*multitasking is multi~asking your brain
to do what does not come naturally,
the enthused poem starts up, lion roaring,
a muscle car, brain throbs organic pulses
semi~orgasmic of a near-completion in
your neuronic ***** exciting and ****
all you-writ so far is:
your name, some crazed, minimal
two fingers of words with
no context, no preconceived word lotion to
balm-spread over the enflamed areas of
your brain skin
except that it’s
6:47 am, coffee in hand,
your woman slumber rumbles a left over dream,
speechifying, and room, cool conditioned cold,
ignoring notifications of overnight elections,
and a reminder-by-photo where you were this
day seven years ago today, all put asided,
permission ungranted to any distractions,
there will be zero context shifts* til the
spillage of your morn squeaking meager is fully
pillage~d here, it be within my it-takes-no-
village,
@ 6:56 and Whitman is tsk-tsking at the low poetry of my scripting, Hafiz says “hey!
nothing about god or love, what good is that?”
but it’s ok for i’ve emptied the early morning
brain bowels,
defused fusses and asides, tossed asided & there is yet some coffee
remaining but the expiation for having been
reborn this newly birthed day has earned me atonement
for taking up space in this planet
and as of yet, I’ve not stated yet to any, no. all
humans, I hate you ~ but the day is infantile
and opportunity plentiful
@7:03AM
nyc
morning
Wed Nov 8,
in the year of hatred,
a/k/a twenty twenty three.
Nov 8, 2023
Nov 8, 2023 at 7:33 AM UTC
If not writing codes,
I am writing poems.
If not writing the language of computer,
I am writing the language of literature.
If not writing the language of the mind,
I am writing the language of the heart.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 2:36 AM UTC
Dear Gentlemen,
May I share with you a secret?
Some of you have already known,
some might overlook it.
No matter what your Lady says,
she loves it when you call her.
Her "If you're busy it's ok" is really not ok.
Your "I'm too busy to call" is definitely not ok.
No matter how busy you are,
you can always make time for your beloved.
A phone call, even with no conversational substance,
makes her believe you two are closer.
A phone call, even just a quick "I just miss you that's all",
strengthens her devotion.
A phone call, every now and then,
lets her known she is on your mind,
reminds her of you,
makes the sense of togetherness shine through.
So, Gentlemen,
no matter how much poetry you have written for her,
how much love you dedicate to her,
how many flower bouquets you send her,
every now and then, do yourself a favor,
put everything else aside (no multitasking!)
to call her on the phone.
If you are married,
call from work.
If you share the same place,
call from outside.
If you meet way too often,
call when you do not.
The more frequent your name appears on her little screen,
in her smart, love-coated mind,
The more grossly exaggerated your time of devotion will be.
Dear Ladies,
sorry that I slipped out our secret.
It just ***** not hearing that special ringtone
(you know, the one only his calls make)
a little more often,
doesn't it?
Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 10:03 AM UTC
Our hands frozen together
Black masks
Backpacks
Running from the flashing lights
Down the street
They'll never catch us
No
This is our time
Our night
This moment
This breath
Is us
Sneaking through bushes
Mechanical
Zombied
Black clothes
Hushed tones
Blood pumping
From the rush
A law breaking
High
Like drinking
A full *** of
Coffee
All at once
You swim through my
Veins
Like an adrenaline
Plague
Eggs
Toilet paper
Paint
Krazy glue
Peanut butter
Oh, the hell we'll
Bring
The moon is full to
Bursting
The air is stiff
Lifeless
You and I
Multitasking mischief
Together
Bonding over
Cracked shells
And pumpkin guts
Giggling through the
Stars
Almost caught
Almost lost
Almost...
In love?
No! Not that!
No emotions
No adult things
On this
Our one and only
Night of fun
The night meant for
The monster that lives
Under our skin
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 7:30 PM UTC
The world has turned into a global village
No one can deny on that...
But..remember the phone we had placed on that beautiful table mat?
Yes...it was a matter of pride to have one..
The only fastest medium of communication we had at that time
It too had models...the rotary phone, the keypad and many fancy ones
We talked, laughed and sobbed sitting at one place as we were tied with the corded set with everyone.
It was safe.....no fear of radiation or loss of eye sight .
Though it was much too costlier than what it is today....people still communicated and talked their heart out
Now...every hand has a cell phone which comes with many features overcoming the limitation of the old one
People can connect anywhere in no time
Then why...?
We are so disconnected.....!
May be we mastered the art of telepathy?...or we are blessed with a magical wand...?
We talk no more
We only make groups
We love forwarding messages
We have become mute.....
So can we again move to landline?
Come out of the virtual world by talking to our dear ones at this time?
Can we try and understand what they are hiding behind their smiling whatsapp profiles?
Let's do things one at a time...rather than multitasking with phone on one hand and laptop on the other...
Let's give them the love and respect when one needs from your side.
So ..... sit back and dial a number of your loved one...and help the world again to become one if not through landline but may be your heartline!!
Bina Mukherjee
May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 2:39 PM UTC
If I could move past the point of ******** my bull horns
are beaten down by life’s whip. Feeling ready to blow
my brain, an itchy finger on the trigger, searching for
life's plus centre: _a positive man stuck in the middle;_ senses
sharp, but it sounds insensitive to an eager mind; all
of our dreams have been suffocated by the placenta.
I think I can be honest about the work of others, but
speaking that truth loudly — for some— sounds like
we don’t really love each other. Chained only by deeper
ambition; passion weighs heavy when it isn’t complete.
Here’s a writer’s petition: loving poetry— an appeal to
careless ambitions over being Christian.
Pride mirrors itself— words reflecting the world’s
weakness, ugly earnestness to be outstanding; going
out to make something of yourself as an artist surely
disappoints a family. Gain success through your own
struggle, heavy prayers; "I guess we’ll all be wealthy."
It all depends upon: the task of multitasking most
of your dreams— to exactitude; the power of words,
poetic charge, poetic energy. But know this—the
lightbulb to your dreams is what will turn them on.
All those wanting pieces of your spark—
you’ll lose track of where they all came from.
Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 11:45 AM UTC
When you are good at something
And you are used to it
Yes you can do multitasking.
But, if you are new to the tasks
You stick to a single task
Check out if am wrong.
Try playing a new instrument and
Sing a song.
Well, either you mess up the tune of the instrument
Or your tune in your voice
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC
*his lean body promises something flawless
and his athletic gait and poise gurantee it
this dance carries the joyful pulse of centuries
filled with the aura of a communal choreography
driven by a pulsating talking drum in expert hands
the serene contours on his contented face -
how they belie the ostritch feathers ardoning his shaven head
such artistic grace and coordination are truly phenomenal:
his dancing head shakes in rhythm to the urgent vocals
of the melody section of the dance troupe
he blows a whistle to blend perfectly with the rest of the percussion
his right hand plays a pair of shakers with amazing dexterity
even as he directs affairs with a fly whisk in his left hand
his left leg does some fancy footwork in the dust
while the right one beats time in time to a silent dirge
the beat of the drum is insistent and demands obedience
to the dictates of heritage that require fluidity and excellence
the dancer is happy to oblige with a maestro's rendition
his smile and energy from the ages speak of art almost divine
who is it that speaks of multitasking as a tiresome diversion?
in this dance where one man does six different things at once
multitasking is an indomitable brand as well as art incarnate!*
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
A dream-- B-dream-C- dream
D-- Divine- dream
E-- dream to the end of
E- Earth
F-- Fit for the dream
How far it seems
My first ever dream
A+ "Angels Dream"
B-Blood stereo types
Dreams are so C Computer advanced
One D-Demon -click
Please come back your way too slick
Your running out the door
Lets be careful what we dream for
All cliches
So Hype flying the parachutes
Does dreams come in
"Navy I Salute"
So **** designed cute
Sunshine awakening did you
feel her vibes wait a minute
Jump the dream her malamute
"To_ live_ a_ dream_ for all
the talking no money grabbing
Listen to the world what they are
...... asking".......
M-L-M marketing tribe
Walking like the Egyptian
"King Tut Pyramid"
Million Stars multitasking
My solo flight*
A dream is not a dream
Until your first cup of coffee
Names became unknown
I must be missing an angel
Quizzically Q- Queen
All the King horses
Money is real the dream
Like a paper moon
Once Upon A Dream
Eye mask beautiful to me
S-sleeping beauty
My Mom is so real
her name is Judy*
I'll be dammed "Miss Scarlet"Red
Many broken pipe dreams
Gone with the wind
Beyond my words
A change is good
In my dream "God" was changed
My heart brave what defeats
The singer dream gently down the stream
Our dreams the milky way heats
Such emotions pride and joy of passions
Heartfelt affections life is filled
with destruction
Sometimes nightmares the do or dares
What fears only the lonely
How a new birth is so lovely*
With love to the poem to the dream
heights the "Medieval Knights"
Was this my dream it feels so real? ZZZ
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 10:07 AM UTC
On my shoulder a heap of garment
In two hands two birded cage
In my mind time management
That I love to do with craze!
List of my works to do
Keep growing in a hellish way
Clipping nails polishing shoe
Time is too short for one day!
When to do them you may ask
If all loose ends I’ve to tie
So I take up multitask
There’s not even time to die!
At 8.30 her medicine
9 I must run the pump
I must keep my cheek trim clean
Traitor time not run but jump!
With one hand I push toothbrush
With one eye I keep check on milk
Alertness aids in the morning rush
Time’s too alert for you to bilk!
Stairs to climb windows to open
Pluck some flowers from back garden
Time autocrat hears no bargain
Slow down a bit get a big burden!
I’ve to make time to blow her a kiss
Will be away whole day she’ll miss
While I peck I hold a biscuit
For the dog at the door badly needs it!
I don’t ever think time kind to me
Give me respite a little time free
But chase it hard without relent
A multitasker bent on time management!
*In this thankless pursuit I can’t tell thee
If I manage time or time manages me
But one thing sure I make time on bed
For not just love but what cooks in head!*
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 8:02 AM UTC
I've never been good at multitasking
so forgive me
If I search every part of you
but lose myself in the process
-h.w.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
A million different jobs.
A million different personas.
As an adult, it's hard knowing,
"what you want to be when you grow up."
While considered "normal" in your twenties,
not so much in your thirties and beyond.
In a world that's consistently changing from one day to the next,
why aren't we allowed the same respect?
We, as parents, wear many hats in order to provide,
they label it multitasking, we're doing it to survive.
Trial and error is the only way to truly be happy in life,
otherwise you're just committed to a career you despise.
That doesn't make one irresponsible, just more knowledgeable.
Two things can be true; you can have a stable career,
and still be a writer on the side.
You can follow your dreams,
and still support your family.
Apr 14, 2025
Apr 14, 2025 at 12:26 PM UTC
Sounds swarming
But quite alarming
College babes
Like___ Slimfast
Drink___ fast
Loves never last
Dorming ****
X box Assassin Creed
Video gifts Elfering
Twitter featuring
The Rattlesnake
*********
My sweet
surrender
Sangria
stuttering
Big mistake
The sangria
Clever mastering
The place was
bugged
That Drunk
No comedy act
Ben Stiller
All Gigs **** her
GIF ruff stuff
Gold digger bluff
Hangover cliff
Her bedroom eyes
Tonight the
Holy water
I phone Maria
Sangria suits him
Just the ring fighter
Ratfinks website
White being
creamed
Drink Kahlia
I won't
My dream drink
Sangria
Saint
My love, you ain't
He is singing
Maria
Strong hangover
with mudpack
Malaria
Drink playmate
All geared up
Generous Gina
Montezuma revenge
The Saint lounge
Competition
How she flaunts
her drinks inferior
Writing a poem
missing
some fonts
((His Tatoo))
the bomb drinker
Pineapple chunks
Bayou
water ripe ripples
Leftover drunks
Mon Cheri *******
Acting like a Saint
Terri spiritual Rumi
The drink scruples
relationship
sandstorm
Riders of
Morrisons
Heirs of beer
At the dorm
The ((Psychic Alarm))
Your drink woke
you up
****** humor
potential
Sangria
Someone was singing
I just met a girl
named Maria
((Harry Potter Hogwarts))
San Antonio
Met Maria
What a belly wash
Drinking up
Alcoholic Darts
Sanguine
Difficulty
pregnancy
Two lovers
liking Maria
Optimistic
Smoothing in
Sangria
He has
a Margarita____*
Mexican
Cancun
Margaret
upbeat
down to her
last drink
Sangria tank
Egyptian Army
buddy drinking
Like a
sandbank
Computer
Clickbank
Lions and coins
sandblasting
Morons
multitasking
Bermuda sounds
Sandpipers
And globetrotters
My Saint
of Sangria
Barcelona
Goddess
On her drenched
Sangria
mattress
She could
have done
his Bio
((That SanAntonio))
((Hostess)) Gia
Lollobrigida
Tony was singing
out to Maria
Her wings
of liquor
The Saint moves
quicker_______
Cabaret stripper
Natalie let me
entertain you
Surprise the
sanitarians
Flipping homes
Drinking up
Their Sangria
My Saint
Bella
Mama Mia
You arrived invite
your friends
No Maria______!!
Drinks on me
Schools out
But Sangria
Stays in we party
Way out
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
All at once
I guess I really am quite good
At multitasking
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
bitcoinvestmentality
that's what happens,
when you watch the business channel
multitasking
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
watching her deep water,
pilled sleeping,
her chest congest,
her cough, orange,
clockwork regular,
watching tv,
an old Law & Order fav,
major crimes gets an
innocent man freed from jail
watching me
in the tv screen reflection,
write bad poetry,
and laughing at his own hair,
rebelling in sticking up shapes
that would make Einstein jealous
occurs that this mot not
multitasking, that multi-inaccurating
Nope
multi-sensing, multi-asking
for
moments of quiet crumbs,
of seconds of satisfactory,
merely passing unpadded grades
would be sufficient
life needs no cogent reasoning,
no over arching philosophy,
but if Sheldon were to
find the unifying string theory
that could tie and string these moments
together,
that would be most excellent
cause "whatever"
just don't quite cut it
as a way,
a purpose to exist,
but moments like this
do
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 5:07 AM UTC
“Hello”. I could hear that word spoken in a solid, yet slightly sadistic voice. The word almost drowned out by my body’s natural urge to find stability. I could only think of the show in my head, I should be on stage pleasing my thousands, well, pushing a few hundred fans and making them beg for an over the top encore that would happen anyway. Instead of being on that stage, I was in this room, my body horizontal with white ceilings you would only see in a house of a human with obsessive compulsive disorder, or in a hospital. I had no reason to be in a stranger’s house, so through deduction, I have figured out I was in a hospital. The ceiling was coming into focus and I heard the same voice ask
“Is there anybody in there?”.That seemed like a very odd statement. Of course I am in here. My eyes are open and staring at your white walls, I'm here.
This man I was hearing now came in my range of sight. He came in through the left. He had on a plain baby blue bandanna that almost seemed like a hat you would see on a ******** biker with a soft side. He also had on a mask covering all his mouth and the tip of his nose. This mask matched the biker cloth he had on.
To the right came a person with the same bandanna and mask, the same color too. Was this a gang? In a hospital? This human had straightened long brown hair; this human must be of the female gender. She spoke to me, in a worried shaken tone, she said
“Just nod if you can hear me”. I started to nod, but the movement brought a black shade over my eyes. I blacked out. It brought me back to a memory, but I was viewing all of it in a third perspective. The sun had set, and the soft yellow tint of the street lights lit the area. It was quite an empty part of the town. The past I was standing at a motel. I was on the second floor about 7 and a half feet from a frazzled man. He was still young, about my age, I must have been about 23 at this time. I assumed this was my brother. He was screaming something about hating. He was screaming at his girlfriend, slamming at the door, and totally drunk. He was quite good at multitasking. Finally in a distressed voice, almost whispering, he groaned.
“Is there anyone home?”. Those words screamed at me, like it meant something.
The white walls were coming back again. No one was in the room. How long was I out for?
I rested, and thought about what happened, and I could not remember what happened to get me in here or what I saw during that blackout. (to be continued…)
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 1:47 AM UTC