That Little Planner

The to do list
Rolls on, growing as you speak.
Brain dumps like landfills;
Clocks ticking, pencils ticking
Off those things to do as quickly as they appear.
The schedule defies calendars and planners,
Because little dictators have no plan.
They point me in a direction like a cannon and shout,
"Onward!"

Those twenty minute workouts would be best done in ten.
Sweat, work, soreness -- all welcome,
But time is the villain,
Making a disappearing act, just when the going gets good.
When sitting still, holding on, feeling time pass
Is the object of the game,
Then the real challenge is on.
No shiny objects or alarms.
Just silence.
Maybe noise.
Wait.