Category: Business Poetry

I lift up my eyes
to the hills
and I rise
to my skills

My help
may it come
from where
it is numb.

Open my path
Open my circuits
Open my brain waves
Activate my workups

I call to you
for answered insight
I climb, breathed blue
Transfigure me white.

Shone like the sun
radiant and clear
High on the mountain
the lava is near.

It flows
on its way
Here it comes
Forces arrayed
I hear the drums.

The cling of the timbrel
The nectar of the lyre
I Rebuild
I Rejoice
Trumpeted fire
I admire
Seemingly dire
I won’t retire
Here in my shire
I do inspire
To walk the wire
You do require.

I do request
Along the way
As you test
My non-regress
Your armor is placed upon my breast.

I am protected
in buckled truth
Fitted with readiness
Shielded from uncouth.
Faithful helmet,
Sword of might
I am alert
My soul, alight.

I can see it all,
The answers are on the wall,
always at my easy view,
allowing me the opportunity to see into,
the realities that await,
my focused state.
tab one, tab two,
window three, window four
multi-monitors galore.
Master of Speed
Master of Time
multi-monitor sublime.

Should I add one more?
Can I configure the ports, I must explore.
Horizontal and vertical.
HDMI and USB-C
I can only optimize to a degree.

Alas, there is a return that is diminishing
a law that will be my finishing,
but I am scheming as I’m dreaming
for one monitor more may be the one
that opens the door
to the multi-monitor portal
of the immortal.

Well, I finally did it.
I had to commit
for there was a meeting
to review
the progress that had not ensued.

A four month delay,
but I found the way,
to obey
and get underway.

Sometimes there are parts of work that we resist.
Everyone has their reasons and their list.
Can we coexist with that which subsists,
gnawing at our mind as we quietly exist?

Create a fake email and all their detail
Click this, click that,
keyboard judo, mouse combat.

When there are things that we do not want
to do
that is a hint that we must review.

Some say to delegate,
Others say to hustle,
This is where we cannot be mindfully muzzled.
Ripping a band aid off
is one approach.
that says one’s business coach.

All that I can say
now that the fear that was discrete is complete
is to
be Kind with your heart as we retreat
into a comfortable safety
but do know that
we must be hasty with that which is weighty
for it has the power to erase me, ready to hit your escape key.

The projects are yours, the tasks are there
you must decide how to care-
Your procrastination is your cue
take your leap into The New.

The word is so hung up upon itself,
clinging to its wealth,
in spite of the health
stacked in stealth
Go ahead and aspire
to be admired
as you spiral
and seek to go viral
into the abyss-
failing while scaling
you cannot dismiss
the credo which claims
the reins
blaming those names
you’ve left in flames.

Once you have annihilated what you thought it was,
be humbled,
quiet applause.
The bridge is yours,
you are a builder,
again, a word that is familiar.

From latin origin inter prehendere
it means to grab, to take – just so you’re aware.
it had war-like origin to surround, which makes
some sense and seems profound.
then in French, it became more eloquent.
to swim out and grasp,
and then quite when you’re ready to gasp-
there is some extra beauty
for which I have discovered
In Sanskrit, the origin continues to be more colored.
For in this version Antha Prerna, it is written
this simple meaning should not be hidden.

Self-motivated is that translation,
Not power, not control
No negative connotation.

If it is the self that is the key,
we must be humbled to some degree-
That cultures have taken the word that we use
And we have embraced, an excuse to abuse.
Others, ourselves, and past bridges too-
A storied word, evolved to imbue,
A sense of hope
The New.

So borrow from it what you would like,
it is your power, it is your hike.

Bridge to the new mountain,
always ready to climb,
journey them together with compassionate Time.

Every day, multiple times a day it is empty.
And, perhaps, so am I.
From this place, where does one go?

At the bottom of the inbox is an empty sink,
shining in it’s emptiness,
waiting and ready to be filled, yet again.

Why do we yearn for it so much?
Treasure at the end of the rainbow?
Seeking to unburden ourselves by the overwhelm, the noise, the requirements upon us-
And once it is processed, and moved through,
Once the excess has been put where it belongs
We find ourselves left with ourselves,
Clear state,
Open fate.
Quieted power,
From the tower,
We gaze at the ways that one plays
with our mind
that make us blind
to the truth
that is our right
to become
more than what we fear
to look to the Might
that is beyond the fight.

Our life flower,
opens into
our power.

The open state.
From which we create.