One of those days where laughs have been absent,
Well, not absent, but definitely too few,
Too many reasons for not seeing the funny,
Like a failure to perceive different views.
Listening to others, all serious with cause
For things that, frankly, are lame,
Waffling on about nothings of note
With nary a pause in each frame.
Watching enactments of things seen before,
Discussed and never quite sorted,
Ideas never birthed, though pregnant with points,
Incited then swiftly aborted.
Boring, ’tis true, not the kids, not all,
But the professionals when gathered as one
At meetings of yore, the same as before,
All talk and nothing is done.
Not a laugh to be had though god knows I giggled,
Mostly just under my breath,
Demented I was and tired of each cause
But mainly just bored to death.
It’s the plague of the system that seeks to improve,
Hashes, rehashes, all logged,
Eyes glazing over, not mine, I’m too nosey,
Mental notes to be blogged.
Young woman beside me has kids on her mind,
Baby tended at home by a carer,
Well looked after, no doubts whatsoever
But I know her mind’s really there.
Not present, another, he’s gone with the wind,
Slouching deeper, bent double, spaced out,
Bored and disinterested by monotoned leader,
I know him well enough to not doubt
That thoughts on his mind revolve round his football
And he runs, so he’s thinking of that,
Or his wife and his kids, how he’ll moan when he’s home,
I don’t blame him, though he acts like a brat.
One says her piece and I stifle a yawn,
Can’t help it, it’s been a long day,
We’re all just tired, in need of a rest
So I suggest we’ve said all we can say.
And lo and behold the leader agrees!
She’s fed up too with the nonsense,
It’s good to know that it’s not just the minions
Who recognise some common sense.
Another will follow as they always do,
Another and then just one more,
And then once again to tick all the boxes,
They’ve made teaching a helluva chore.
It’s rife, so it seems, that all that we do,
In jobs, professions, careers
Requires so much talking, so much distilled shit
Till it’s streaming and pouring from ears.
I have to confess I do say my piece
Though usually it’s not well-received
When I remind all gathered that nothing much changes
Gasps! I’m not being believed.
Once in a while would be fine for a purpose
If action and sense would prevail,
But, not holding my breath till retirement comes,
Been there, seen that, done it and hail –
It circles around – like proverbially wheel,
Though no one admits that’s the case
Unless you’re a bit older with a trap you can’t shut
And enjoy the looks on their face
At heresy spouted, remembrances past
And how this is just as I find
Reinventing the wheel but not nearly as well,
Babies and baths come to mind.
Now, my poem’s as long as the meeting we had,
And there’s nothing visual for you
To redeem all the talk, to survey and to think,
So you’re dismissed ‘cos that’s what I do. 🙂