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"reassign" poems
Calamitous collapse of structure forged With steel and concrete built for time, Since Roman times a formula endured With engineers additional design. Why, then, did this structure fail, Did mortar crack, did reinforcing strong, Shear and plummet in an instants time To crush and doom this bridges song. In teeming rain a  silence hung Where watchers gaped in stunned awe, A magnitude of devastation lay Pulverized in valley floor. Astonishing this expanse of space Where seconds past, huge edifice, Imbued with its’ charge of lives Unknowingly to meet abyss. Innocence has lost its’ life Blame resounds around the room Someone shall pay the price For negligence in causing doom. Truth be told it’s shared by all For Italy has lagged behind Cost cutting infrastructures’ purse Because of economic bind. Time to reassess the plan Time to weep and bury dead, Clear the rubble from the land Rebuild well then forge ahead. Blame not the engineer Nor the man who drew design, Blame not the hardhat Who poured the concrete in the line. Reassign the budget spend To infrastructure, pay its share For sentiment is running hot To axe the fool who pares the fare. M. Storeman Civil Infrastructure Hamilton, NEW ZEALAND
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
The Genoa Calamity
Lips on her and lips on mine Imagination so divine I felt your heart breathe within mine Hazel eyes with some blue bright eyes combined Timing isn’t right And life doesn’t align Emotions strip as my confidence rips Barriers that makes our love reassign Two steps away but so far out of sight As she holds your hand Mine waits for yours ready to ignite It burns my heart while losing this fight Waiting for the day I can kiss you and all the pieces of our broken heart fits just right
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Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 3:02 PM UTC
Timing Isn't Right
Books – a medicine saturnine. Those who have books shine With lively bright colour twine. Books – a Daniel – be in shrine To take us all up with whine. Saraswati, indeed, did opine My talents with saccharine And help me for Her to reassign Her position in the world malign. With her help I Monorhyme define And made many people it dine With garlic or ginger or brine. Oh! Goddess! Help me refine The world with your dyne – Books – a medicine saturnine.
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Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 11:06 PM UTC
BOOKS – A RESOURCE PART – 7
I walk through the flame With a torch Scorching Heat rises While the Sun sets Scolding Iron Black burns From the white hot Esteemed The bloods boiling About to erupt And rupture The surface Earth is Perfect For destruction I get to choose Shall I just quake And make shook? Or just break And make soot? To explode Or stay put? I can enter As emperor Ashes and embers In the center of Cinders I stood Like a cintaur I was sent for Tinders and timber Fire from the heavens Rays To dissarray I can reign In array In a way That braises Those in the way I rose At dusk As dust showers A presence with A towering essence I reckon My wreckage Has a message Make haste Or you will ruin My hue in tune With my shoes Blues tone Tutone My red bones Wouldn't break If you through stones Whose on? Rock solid boulder I smolder I decide When to explode I can mold Or stand bold My manifold is manifested In my crest The formation maker of multanimous nature! I decide! Devastation Or Resignation? Devise a planetary Invasion or Reassign my placement? I think this nation Is destined To be the destination For infestation
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Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:37 AM UTC
Caino
I had this dream last night In it we were at my grandparent's I was home and surrounded with a flawed sort of people My flawed sort of people And I was totally preoccupied With my weight and the space I take up And the joy of their company was lost on me If I went home today that is how it would be I would be preoccupied Life would be lost on me The number on the morning scale The number of my worth for that day A number with the ability to crush me And tape me back together A power no individual has Just that number I want to reassign my values Outrun this whole mental knot I have tied But I can't So I keep the company of other's disorders In treatment Still
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Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
Still In Treatment
I am the blank page here, before you. An empty book to write at your will. And As this scene unfolds before you, memories pen stroke your cheap thrill. As these words crash, and collide upon my barren page. Full of fragments of thought... full of moments of wonder. You close both eyes, and open the third, just enough to see the splendor. The words stain and etch upon the fiber of my being. Seeking, what they might leave behind. A story perhaps? You close your eyes and redefine, and reassign the unrefined. Feel the roar of the breeze as you clench your eyes. As she writes in me, she writes in you also. An imprint in your thoughts. Whilst just symbols upon me. But How the power of symbols, on the mind can be. You hear voices in your mind and the subject of time, is far more unconvincing than you could ever find. For me, time is only of what has been written. For I do not possess thought or an abstract ambition. People come and go, and leave imprints in me. Of life, and love, and what solace can be. Imagination wants what reality can't offer, a vision perhaps for which you desperately tether. I know this too well, tis' a familiar feeling. As these markings in me are known also as writing. The recipient finds meaning, which is forever undivided. And I'm again a blank book, whose fate is... undecided.
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:22 AM UTC
The Recipient
“It’s fraught,” he said. BOOM! Wrong pronoun They would disapprove “We should…” BOOM! Not us… BOOM! Not me! They them us He she we I myself me Redefined reassign People can change In an instant or a lifetime Language evolves Evolution is slow Give it time to grow
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Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 12:19 PM UTC
MINEFIELD
I feel your presence shift past me. To you, I am simply a memory. A memory that has been tarnished throughout time. An enemy perhaps. To me, you are a ghost. Stuck in time, without the knowledge of this collective reality. Stuck in a cycle of decline and reassign. You stand in limbo, observing your own mistakes. But in your created reality, there are no such mistakes... A ghost broken down by their choice of travel, But blames the damage on the road itself. You can only twist a story so far before the pages tear and split.
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Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 7:23 PM UTC
Ghost
Kaput Scripted The top boss carved the account up some more He put in place an extra step so no duplicate accounts were made This was fine in the managers’ eyes an extra layer of a layer And it created work for a back office guy making those accounts It was his job to do it not the call centre agents If they made a new account they got beasted and fired It was easy to create a new account yet full of risk Send the details to your TL and then in the form So back office has it and will make the account The account will be made and sent to your TL Who will reassign it to the rep that made the call No double accounts no confusion yet more stress Adding to the wait time while the rep does compliance Completes a needs assessment vets the customer Sends a promo approval to his TL who sends it To the manager who sends it to the client All the while the patient customer holds like a fool When all this is done and the account is sent over The closer calls the VT team who complete the sale If the DM has funds on a working card all is fine If any step fails the whole thing collapses What a nice time for me to be endorsed To a different version of my old healthcare account No more sales on a failing B2B account
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Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 8:47 AM UTC
Kaput Scripted