"reschedule" poems
You don't give a ****
About us vets
You pay us lip service
And leave us in debt
Cancel our appointments
But when we call
To reschedule you act
Like WE dropped the ball
I've been waiting 2 years
For my ****** up shoulder
You keep handing me pills
And my will grows colder
Now three of my battles
Have taken their life
Today one shot himself
In front of his kids and wife
Oh, NOW you care?
**** OFF VA, SCREW YOU!!!**
Just hand me my pills
Like you usually do
Oh, why are you angry?
You must not like to hear
What most of us vets
Have heard from you for years
**** you too, VA
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
Mondays are like when the cops come to shutdown a party that is approaching the highest point of the night
Mondays are like when you found out your prospective prom date is interested in going with you
Mondays are like when you find out your other half is splitting themselves into more than two pieces
Mondays are like when you find your savior for the first time
Mondays are like when you fail a test you spent all weekend studying for
Mondays are like when the leaves change color on trees in autumn
Mondays are like when it rains on a day you planned a picnic date that you could not reschedule
Mondays are like when you find your purpose for breathing daily and using that as motivation to constantly progress
Mondays are like getting a broken ankle after scoring the game winning touchdown
Mondays are like when you find a pond of fresh water after traveling by foot through a desert
Mondays are like talking to your celebrity crush with spinach stuck on your tooth
Mondays are like buying your favorite pair of sneakers
Mondays are like waking up early for a class that was cancelled
Mondays are like when the flowers bloom in the spring
Mondays are such a buzz ****
Mondays are like a fresh start
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 10:09 PM UTC
Well Alice looked in the cookbook for a new dish
The night before, it became her wish
But what could Alice prepare
However, I offer a word of caution in beware
Alice found a dish to serve her guest
If anything, find a good restaurant that should be the request
The cookbook with Stuffed Rice and Chicken
The name sounds worth eating
However, I just saw the chicken dash out the door
I guess the chicken felt I he will not be anybody’s guinea pig to explore
So that was his chance to run out and ignore
This was something the chicken couldn’t take anymore
Alice may have to serve the guest toast
But I can assure you the guest will have a lot to boast
Perhaps word of mouth being coast to coast
A cookbook is something one creates
But not eat at your own risk and discover why you were sick from what you ate
This is your time to make a quick exit before it is too late
Excuse yourself and perhaps reschedule another date
But that would require you to participate
But the best thought is run for your life
Don’t even wait to get advice
You don’t want to know what else could possibly be left in the kitchen
A dish being an unknown that no one seems to want to eat
It’s like a competition, but in this case, no one wants to compete
So Wendy’s said, “Drop in and have a Hamburger”
Yet eat while you can
As for a cookbook dish, don’t eat until when
At this point, I have reached my end.
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 11:40 AM UTC
*The unexpected snow, disruptive,
in ways more burdensome,
than mere fender benders and
swapping travelogue commutation miseries
ah, the tv reporters regale
with snow tales, human fails,
but where do you hear
of the children
burnt once by fire
then again, now,
again!
burnt by snow.
here, hear, listen here
technology moves forward,
grafting new shells of skin
on burnt children,
but tonite you're cozy thinking
of your valentine's heart,
not of the little ones,
whose hearts are unprotected,
by what we take so for granted
beneath our protective gloves and coats, scarfs and boots,
our prophylactic human skin,
theirs, fire ravaged,
now re-hazardous,
by southern snows burning
these children hurt,
unexpectedly,
cannot play in the snow that came so
unexpectedly,
lest it burn them worse*
"in the children's burn unit, postponed all surgeries except 'emergency'. Two days of outpatient clinic patients forced to reschedule,. That then, postpones their surgeries, second step grafting, etc. Our vents ran smoothly I heard via the generators, unlike last outage. We had to ambulance each individual patient.
I dread going in tomorrow but small comfort,
it will be warmer than my cold home."
Life first, poetry second
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
Hello, you have reached your longtime downhome hometown Saint Swithin’s Family Medical Clinic now an outreach ministry of Consolidated #Jesus Industries Inc. where nobody knows you anymore and wouldn’t care if they did your health care is very important to us you are a valued customer our office hours are from 8 to 12 and 2 to 5 on alternate Mondays and 9-12 and 2 to 5 on Tuesdays and Thursday after Woodchuck Endangerment Awareness Day but before Greenpeace Day except when the latter falls on a Wednesday in which case our office hours are 2 to 5 only and on Saturday 8 to 12 if this is an outside pharmacy please dial X and follow the menu if this is a prescription refill please dial Y and follow the menu if this is to schedule an appointment please dial Z and remain on the line if this to reschedule an appointment dial A cubed and speak slowly when prompted to do so I’m sorry I didn’t quite get that would you like to try again I’m sorry I still didn’t get that if you would like to speak to an operator dial oh, I am sorry your time is expired please hang up and redial if you would like to speak with Dr. Name’s secretary please dial 3 if you would like to speak with Dr. Other Name’s secretary please dial 4 if you would like to talk with Nurse Practitioner Yet Another Name’s secretary please dial 5 if this is an emergency then please hang up and dial 911…
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 3:56 PM UTC
Arriving for medical appointment today:
Richard to Receptionist: "Richard Riddle for 3:30 appointment with Dr. Beersmell."
Receptionist: "He's not in today. He's ill."(Brushing hair off of forehead)
Richard: "I know this is probably a silly question, but why didn't someone call me earlier so I wouldn't have had to drive ten miles?"
Receptionist: Long pause......"I forgot."(Brush-Brush)
Richard: I'll reschedule when he comes back. Thank you, Amber!
copyright: richard riddle 04-22-2015
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
No one awakes knowing
That today is
The day
That you're going to die.
Death doesn't
Call to confirm your appointment
(No calls either
Human or computerized)
You can't cancel
Or change
Your mind when you arrive.
It doesn't matter if you
Have insurance
Or
Promise to pay on time.
It won't ask you to
To sign an ROI.
Death doesn't reschedule.
Death accepts no excuses
It won't wait until
It's a more convenient time
Or have you check
Your schedule
Your bank account
Your ethnicity
Your marital status.
Death won't take
Your past history.
It won't give you a coupon
Bill your mom
Take a bribe
Or
Give you a referral to
To another specialist
On his time
Or for that matter his dime.
Death has no bedside manner
Won't prescribe you drugs
Doesn't care what your
Father does.
Death won't even
Look you in the eye
Check your side
Listen to your complaints
Or successes
Show compassion
Or
Give you
An empathetic understanding sigh.
Death takes no names
And takes no answers
Death has no samples
Studies
Or sage advice.
However death is like
Waiting for the dentist
Your turn is going
To come.
Sleep is called
Mini-deaths,
All of this
No wonder I can't sleep
And by the way
Death doesn't schedule
Follow up appointments...
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
Reach out and touch my cheek.
Don't be offended when I turn away.
Take me out to the dark beach for a walk.
I'm not sorry I don't reschedule for another day.
Wrap your arms around me.
Try not to cough as I fall to ashes.
Yell at me and get angry.
Apologize when I bat my sorry lashes.
If you call me beautiful, I'll tell you you're lucky.
I know you won't find someone like me.
And that's what I'm aiming for.
You can tell I'm not right. All I feel is misanthropy.
Broken hearts, broken by me.
But I've been broken too.
It's painful, depressing, you feel ripped to shreds.
So don't act like I can't feel you.
I know the darkest roads that can be travelled in my mind.
They're all paved with memories of your face.
So don't be hurt when I let you suffocate on yourself.
I want to watch you disappear without a trace.
I'm not the bad person, you know.
I'm simply confused and lost.
Is this what you accomplished?
A sense of power. But at what cost?
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
I was thinking about you the other day,
and decided that
I wanted to write about you
one last time.
Do you remember the letter you gave me
on Valentine's day?
It's a funny story, actually.
It's still in its little bottle.
There's no way I can get it out,
I've tried so many times,
I've nearly torn the letter to bits
by picking at it with a pair of tweezers.
I can smash the bottle,
however that letter was written over
4 years ago.
How can I bring myself to read something
that is addressed to someone,
that at the time,
you had said you loved?
To read it now feels as though
I am intruding on something
I have no business in seeing.
Near the end, do you remember when you told me
that I had reminded you of your father?
I have never felt more ashamed of myself.
I was crushed.
But did I ever apologize?
I am not sure.
I am so sorry.
Why did I make you feel that way,
I wonder.
Do you remember a couple years ago,
out of the blue,
I invited you out for dinner
after not speaking to you for years?
When you agreed,
I was ecstatic,
I looked forward to it the entire week,
but then you said you couldn't go
and that ******* broke my heart.
For just one night,
I wanted to show you
tenderness.
I had written a letter,
I worked on it for weeks,
it was page upon page
of things I was sorry for.
And you never got it.
You said we'd reschedule,
but I have not received a message from you since,
and I did not want to pester you.
But I've fixed some of my bad habits.
People now say that I am kind.
****
I wish that I could have shown you that.
I remember you telling me that
you had hung all the poems
and letters I had given you
on your bedroom wall
for your entire family to see.
I wonder if they are still there?
I hope not.
You should throw them all away.
I used to keep a copy of every poem
and letter I ever wrote,
but I've since ripped them to shreds.
They were terrible,
honestly.
Please throw them away.
What I regret most is
that I used to sign letters with my name.
I no longer do that.
What was important to know was not that Leo had wrote a letter,
rather,
that the letter had been written.
Leo has nothing to do with it.
Perhaps
knowing it was Leo who wrote it
would make it seem
cheaper or
worse than it actually is.
Or at least that is what you made me think
while I was eating dinner alone
on a certain night a couple years ago.
I am happy for you,
I really am.
It makes me feel so nostalgic
seeing you in love.
Your boyfriend seems like a nice guy
although I have no idea what he is saying.
Perhaps it is time I learn a language other than English...
And with that, I bid you, adieu.
Perhaps we will cross paths again,
perhaps not!
But this will be the last time
I ever write about you.
Jun 6, 2021
Jun 6, 2021 at 9:55 PM UTC
I find it sad that I've begun associating you with headaches and bad dreams more often than not.
It's like the only way to reach out to you is to reschedule the days you want to fall in love with me all over again like those days are just some sort of meeting for me to potentially become a home for you.
My arms are open like the front doors of a 5 story mansion with a small attic added on top like icing to a cake and yet you refuse to close them for good for me.
You arrive and pull open every single window and door, you turn on all of the lights, and every trinket that thrives off of my energy is switched on in addition to that without a care in the world of how much of my electricity you are wasting.
Eventually you come to the heart of the house, you turn the flame on high on the stove, you walk straight out and you leave me to burn again.
It's every single time I see you that you do this to me, and somehow I always found the tools to rebuild myself.
This time is different. This time I can't because I'm shattered beyond repair. Being the glorious architect that you are I figure you could design the sort of place you actually wish to live in.
But you won't.
I'm not in your outline anymore, am I?
You once told me you wanted to fix me, and now is your final chance, because once I find the courage, the meaning, and my resilience to assemble myself once more... Just know that:
I'm closing all of the doors and locking them from the inside with golden keys that I can melt down into reminders of who I'm to not let back in. My arms will not open up for your embraces any longer, lover, not even if you try to pry them open.
I'm closing all of the windows and barring them from your needy hands. They will have to find a new toy to play with.
I'm turning off all of the lights so someone new can learn where the lightswitches to my soul are located, since no matter how often I moved them from you, you still knew me well enough to turn me on.
I'm extinguishing the flame that is constantly flickering between our fragile figures, blowing it out like a candle, and never giving you the ability to light me up again.
I am a female powerhouse and I belong to no one.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
I saw the rising fog..
and it settled over my brain..
but an occasional brain freeze is cool...
it numbs away the pain..
cocaine's hard to come by..
and drugs are illegal they say..
I wonder why they didn't put a tag on love..
And legalize heartbreak away...
Cigarettes are bad, they **** your lungs,
they burn away your soul...
But we've burned at the stake already love,
whats some dust n a bit o' coal..?
So let's reschedule the sermon father..
Save me a seat in your pew...
For I got a long walk back home today,
and a dream i gotta sew...
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 11:07 AM UTC
*The inner ciity school was big and noisy.
I remember being scared and ovewhelmed.
When I saw her for the first time
a cornucopia of colors In her flowing sari.
She floated no sound of footsteps.
Her skin perfectly brown
oh she was the most beautiful lady
I had ever seen.
I think she loved teaching more than life.
She would break an adult meetng
to tend to a childs needs.
.Saying we must reschedule
I have a very important
meeting with my student
I must attend to.
she taught us patience and respect.
To listen to each other and to learn
from each person we spoke with.
she brought animals to the school
and introduced us to new species.
Everone wanted to be with her
when she taught us the class was silent
and every swoosh of her sari could be heard.
she stood by the open window of the classroom
Once and said listen can you hear it
I said its just silence Miss
she smiled and said no
it is the most beautiful
sound in the world
it is the sound of learning.
she would ask what new thing we had learned
since last she saw us.
A color a poem a book.
I think I learned how to learn from her.
She basked in her small successes.
Later she told us of the nurses a doctor
schoolteacher author and poet
that had spawned
from her class.
Now when I visit England I always try
to see her in her small retirement flat.
she pours green tea that she says comes from
the foothills of the himalayas still teaching me.
As I recount for her all the new things
I have learned in the years since I saw her last*
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
My heels clip on
London concrete.
My hamstrings strain
To increase my stride.
I slalom around
Pavement zombies,
Phone junkies,
Loitering monkeys.
Don’t they see?
I’m late for a meeting
With a client of grandeur.
A key player.
A major money man.
(I can’t drop the name
Due to a
Signed NDA).
It was suppose to be
A blue sky meeting
On a grey winters morning.
But I slept too long,
And the tube
Went wrong,
And now I’ve
Got the dreads.
If I’m late,
My rep will be tarnished.
I’ll never secure
Another meeting again.
Because in this town,
Time is a diamond
We can’t possess.
But we know it exists;
Out there on the outskirts,
Out there in the sticks.
It’s below freezing but I’m
Working a sweat;
A pavement cardio,
A sidewalk rodeo,
A street athletics show.
There’s no way I am going
To be on time.
It’s curtains for me;
I’ve sealed my P45.
Finally I arrive.
I collapse at the entrance,
My power-walk ending
In a muted reception.
I approach the desk.
‘Yes?’
Glared a future
X-factor entrant.
‘Good morning.
I’m here to see
The top brass.
The big cheese.
The head honcho.
I was delayed, but please,
Pass my humblest regrets,
I am spinning a lie
Which I hope he accepts.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’
The young lady chewed.
‘The Great Man is away,
Tanning on a beach.
You’ll need to reschedule;
He returns in two weeks.’
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 5:29 AM UTC
The unsettling fishtank
dream remains/ luminous!
& yet confined to it's own/serene state
of sheltered existence, there is no/reaching in and interrupting this Indian fire two thousand years old/only a deep sense of burden that you couldn't n will never/
be a section of its gaze
There will be no kindling of Spirit while whispering the secret of your/madness to
a staircase/
There will be no eyes & alms to forgive and guide your restlessness at night/the sky will not forget your cowardice in absolute emotional expression
How you stray from kissing a holy lover the way you've always ached to!
The Summer will not reverse its eternal poetry from your skin/
will not smile watching you blunder through childhood, tending to your fear with higher
priority than your great wound
It (this longing to be smothered & worthy rest) will not reschedule to next week
just because you read the daily horoscope
and it "applies" to you now!
/soldier & your MobyDick heart & saintly revelations on the silence of your neighbors & shaving off ur insecurities/causing you to bleed & be sent off to the HOSPITAL & the staff is laughing down at your mangled face, anyways
& you have done with the destruction caused in a moment of blushing cheeks
Dye fills the head with ego painting & unexpressed volumes ! Oh!
The circus remains fearless but still uninformed, worn down in its senseless practice & schoolboys cry observing the clouds lose train of thought to the music of Berlioz
My terrible soul skips/unblinking from the pondrous black cat who lingers above my dreamworld/to Gustav Klimt & his empyrean entanglement/
out to the parking lot which cannot mind it's own bussiness
trees of insoluble space
haiku lion
prisons kept hush hush
so its prisoners may forget
again where they weep
(how are you dear? I wish I could be a lasting impression)
Since birth
many of us have successfully
avoided the barbaric
heat of life
I haven't been uplifted by beautiful
laughter in a long time
the laugh that uplifts this whole Earth
A child to die so early
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 4:33 AM UTC
*The inner ciity school was big and noisy.
I remember being scared and overwhelmed.
When I saw her for the first time
a cornucopia of colors In her flowing sari.
She floated no sound of footsteps.
Her skin perfectly brown
oh she was the most beautiful lady
I had ever seen.
I think she loved teaching more than life.
She wld break an adult meetng
to tend to a childs needs.
.Saying we must reschedule
I have a very important
meeting with my student
I must attend to.
she taught us patience and respect.
To listen to each other and to learn
from each person we spoke with.
she brought animals to the school
and introduced us to new species.
Everone wanted to be with her
when she taught us the class was silent
and every swoosh of her sari could be heard.
she stood by the open window of the classroom
Once and said listen can you hear it
I said its just silence Miss
she smiled and said no
it is the most beautiful
sound in the world
it is the sound of learning.
she would ask what new thing we had learned
since last she saw us.
A color a poem a book.
I think I learned how to learn from her.
She basked in her small successes.
Later she told us of the nurses a doctor
schoolteacher author and poet
that had spawned
from her class.
Now when I visit England I always try
to see her in her small retirement flat.
she pours green tea that she says comes from
the foothills of the himalayas still teaching me.
As I recount for her all the new things
I have learned in the years since I saw her last.*
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
Alarm
Click
Alarm
Click
Alarm
Click
White ceiling
Toes thighs chest eyelids
Swing legs over bed
Stand up
Feel emptiness in your gut
Revel in how lovely it feels for the moment
Black letters greet you
Don’t forget..Take your meds! Smiley face
Orange bottle
Little custard colored pills
_swallow down_
_swallow down_
_swallow down_
Yes! Go to class! Pay attention! This is interesting! Wow! There’s a dog! Hello friends! Yes I can help you with that! Yes I want to hang out tonight! But homework first! And I must do my laundry! Productivity is great! I love you sweetheart, lets skype tonight! But after I do social things! It was nice talking to you!
Yes lets still hang out tonight
Yes lets still skype tonight
Unlock the door
walk in
close the door
sit down
_look out the window_
_look out the window_
_look out the window_
I’m sorry I’ll have to cancel. Something came up. Yes I’m fine. Yes we’ll reschedule.
Lighter
Inhale
Exhale
Short productivity burst
_look out the window_
_look out the window_
_look out the window_
Yes baby I’m fine. Uh huh…uh huh…uh huh….Yes I’m listening yes I still love you no im sorry im a little off tonight
_look out the window_
_look out the window_
_lookout the window_
Shower
Brush teeth
Comb hair
Crawl into bed
_stare at the ceiling_
_stare at the ceiling_
_stare at the ceiling_
Custard colored dreams
Are harder to _swallow down_
_swallow down_
_swallow down_
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC
The flakes come down
Not one alike
Throughout the town
These days are the best
because we are able
to stay in and Rest.
If you must go out,
Just put on a hat,
Please don't pout.
And if you can,
call off your appointments
And reschedule
them again.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 4:44 PM UTC
my depression's been pretty bad recently, daresay among the worst of the times i've had it. i couldn't put forth the effort to reschedule this meeting i was supposed to have with my boss for two weeks. today i actually reached a point where i gave up on my boyfriend's love for me too, thinking i was too miserable to possibly be loved. i had numbed myself out to the point where i couldn't even fathom his love for me or how it could exist. he proceeded to comfort me by lying with his full weight on top of me (per my request) and nuzzling me while i sobbed, so so happy because i was able to feel his love for me again. depression isn't being sad, it's about being numb and devoid of feeling. it's scary when you feel like you won't be able to feel again.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 2:06 AM UTC
i'm watching myself
unfold
i try to stuff
what's falling out
inside
maybe i
can go for
one more week
maybe then
i'll feel i earned
a sigh
Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 12:33 PM UTC
*The inner city school was big and noisy.
I remember being scared and overwhelmed.
When I saw her for the first time
a cornucopia of colors In her flowing sari.
She floated no sound of footsteps.
Her skin perfectly brown
oh she was the most beautiful lady
I had ever seen.
I think she loved teaching more than life.
She would break an adult meetng
to tend to a childs needs.
.Saying we must reschedule
I have a very important
meeting with my student
I must attend to.
she taught us patience and respect.
To listen to each other and to learn
from each person we spoke with.
she brought animals to the school
and introduced us to new species.
Everone wanted to be with her
when she taught us the class was silent
and every swoosh of her sari could be heard.
she stood by the open window of the classroom
Once and said listen can you hear it
I said its just silence Miss
she smiled and said no
it is the most beautiful
sound in the world
it is the sound of learning.
she would ask
what new thing we had learned
since last she saw us.
A color a poem a book.
I think I learned how to learn from her.
She basked in her small successes.
Later she told us of the nurses a doctor
schoolteacher author and a poet
that had spawned
from her classes.
Now when I visit England I always try
to see her in her small retirement flat.
she pours green tea that she says comes from
the foothills of the himalayas still teaching me.
As I recount for her all the new things
I have learned in the years since I saw her last.*
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
I miss my theater
I miss the lights
I'm finding I even miss
The many sleepless nights
Cause now I lie awake
My head so filled with song
I'm finding that without you
The world just feels so wrong
I miss the chaos
I miss my crew
I miss every little thing
That I used to do
I cannot reschedule
The last curtain call
I cannot imagine
A year without you all
I'm crying, I'm trying
The tears, they never fall
I cannot imagine
A year without you all
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 11:26 AM UTC
WIND: blowing to move on, not to stay.
Whirlwinds of beauty and disaster on display.
Told you oceans of secrets, to which you reply
"Just keep blowing me, I’ll reschedule my flight."
Hot air balloon, your hand in mine
To think I once believed your heart could shine.
Oct 16, 2022
Oct 16, 2022 at 1:01 PM UTC