These Business Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Business. These are the best examples of Business Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
I met someone I know quite well, he gets about in cars, does buy and sell.
He spoke to me upon a theme, we were stirring coffee; I had just added my cream.
When (Fiat) money, he intoned..)
This word does it ring a bell?
Of it have you heard; or known, do tell.?
The cost of Fiat cars I then proclaimed?
No it’s of money I speak,he said if it’s all the same,
I had bought some autos and to me the word was told,
That it is money without collateral backing, that’s the truth stone cold!
So in this stressured contemporary rhyme, I think I must… It’s now high time
In fact a lack of sober views and action which did not ensue...
Control! ….. control!, "well they did not" now high (inflation) pop pop pops..!
Consume, consume they said and greed is good for all..!
Poor old Jim john and Doug..) Rachel, Joan and Queenie McCall..!
A dream was sold and lives were told, It’s Oh! so safe, more so than gold!
Now Fiat cash is on the scene, they run it off Oh! ream on ream
Just like my coffee encircling mug, so here’s to the truth lets give it a plug.
When I again pour in my cream,
as it begins to merge like inflations infusion, Maybe I’ll dream.
That financial fiasco’s and social screams are only rumours on a jittery theme,
However until "their problem" has been (sold), I’ll trade some paper cash for gold.
© Joe Maverick 13-11-2010
It has come to my attention,
by way of the news,
everybody is talking,
corporations are singing the blues.
They don't have any money,
they blew all they had,
now they're calling on our government,
because their management is quiet bad.
CEO'S with salaries,
that would probably choke a horse,
and since the economy is getting bad,
they need more of course.
They fly their jets freely,
to every corner of the world,
wearing designer business suits,
sporting big diamonds, and pearls.
Eating at the restaurants,
where fancy is the course,
while begging for our money,
they want to take from the poor.
I find it very amusing,
the way they flaunt their stuff,
then act like nothing is wrong,
while tugging at the Rolex under their cuff.
I guess they really think,
we owe them all so much,
while most of us are skimping,
cutting back on spending, and such.
Maybe someone needs to show them,
how the poor have to live,
and we are all quiet broke,
and we don't have it to give.
Most live from payday to payday,
buying groceries, and gas,
while faulting on our mortgage,
those little checks just don't last.
I don't think it is right,
they can live the way they do,
spending like crazy,
then taking from me, and you.
Most have to struggle,
just to live from day to day,
and we can't get the help,
when we lose all our pay.
Rich man, Poor man, Beggar man, Thief,
what else do they want,
all I can say is,
Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.
Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.
My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered.
In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised,
But it is to be called someone,
Who can be respected.
To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.
I stood in front with a long red dress
I wasn’t sure what to do
I hadn’t planned on this, and took off my left shoe
I wanted to jump on the tramp, but oh the mess
Every person took their turn
Lots even got a burn
Some fell and got bumps
Others made large jumps
I waited for my chance
Standing behind my hunky boy
He sized me up and jumped on the toy
Moving like a dance
I separated my two feet
And tied my skirt in a knot
The skirt became pants and I moved to the spot
I smiled and bounced on my seat
Upset about a non-sense fight with Manny Pacquiao (Almost double his weight), I had been training for a while,
with my dorsal digital nerves and tendons of the flexor digitorum profundus without enough blood supply, delusional, paranoid as We all are,
I call my mobile phone company,
I can't pay my bill I'm injured and my electrolytes are not balanced I want to lower the bill because I am being robbed
-Request accepted sir
-Thank You I am going to change my company
-A lot of people complains about that Sir...Yes...Hum...How old are You..I can see, really! That's nice, I understand O O OK,
Music (Iggy Pop Sweet Sixteen) Sir can you please rate my performance we do understand problem solved.
-Alright , Sorryyy!
Awesome in Every Topic Costumer Service a Masterpiece
3 weeks later
An assistance mobile phone to disabled and lower income families was born
Two visits to the Hospital one to Crisis other to the Mental Ward
Some years after I am helping my disabled mother with the application to the company
And as I had been till today confused but Who Cares?!
This story is true (All the Mental explanation and formal representations are welcome and will be respected has the Interpretator property that I do respect for the empathy and sympathy, Since was not shared in any other professional or personal setting. Thank You All, And A Big Hug To My Mentor(a)!
Travelling on the road for business gets old fast. The inside of one hotel room starts to look the same as another in any town you name. When you travel by yourself it becomes even more mundane. Customers, clients and/or prospects all have their own after-work lives waiting for them and seldom include you in their plans. So, as you depart at the end of the business day you are on your own, in a strange town.
You do get used to exploring cities, towns and suburbs on your own. You figure out how to avoid always eating in the hotel restaurant and you master the art of dining alone. For men like Josh, that usually meant eating at the restaurant bar. Even though he seldom ordered a beer, wine or other alcoholic beverages, the bartenders were always a willing party to chat with and enjoy some semblance of human interaction.
On this particular occasion, the trip was even more difficult than usual because Josh was having trouble at home with his wife. Whereas, some may think it a blessing to remove yourself from the situation, it just made Josh feel even more lonely not being able to talk to her to try to work things out. So, after putting on his happy and buoyant work-face all day to keep the customer satisfied, Josh donned his fedora and walked out the front doors of the high-rise office complex onto the crowded and lonely city streets.
The fedora was a relatively new addition to Josh’s wardrobe. Not many men wear fedoras any more. Josh’s wife thought he would look good in the hat and surprised him with it as a Christmas present six months ago. Josh was still getting used to wearing the hat, but received many compliments on his appearance while wearing it.
Without even bothering going back to his hotel room, Josh slowly strolled around the city streets lost in thought about the situation with his wife and wondering how they might resolve the loss of passion, the loss of caring and the loss of love in their relationship. Finally, he stepped inside the doors of an enticing pub to get himself some dinner.
The bar in this particular establishment had plenty of stools available to pick from. Josh sat down on one and placed his fedora on the empty stool next to him. On this evening, Josh started off by ordering a beer.
My friend Justin and I want to dedicate this poem to everyone in America and those from other countries who have died, and also to those that lost their loved ones on this most atrocious day 11 years ago.
In the busy streets of New York City,
Many a passerby made their way to work
It was a typical work day—or so they thought
It was an unexpected day when a great tragedy would strike
Two of the city’s greatest towers would fall in humility
And along with them many wonderful families
Even others from different countries would lose a loved one
In just a matter of minutes, all of what was that typical work day
Became a nightmare—a terrorist’s delight
Everything in chaos and confusion
Cries all through the day and night
Many called their loved ones if they survived that long
Many panicked, but some were dead calm
Knowing there was no way out
They poured their hearts out on that last telephone call, their legacy born
The attackers thought they broke us!
But they failed—we didn’t break at all
Instead they brought us closer as a nation
And the people who lost their lives are with us always
Never forgotten in our minds and in our hearts
When a father of five
came home faced
with one in five children of convalescence
which he will pay more attention?
So organizations should be
when in a department or group,
one member is left out
of the production process.
Discard the individual or rescue?
I may not be in active, thus, I may be proactive,
They say I am knowledgeable, But I am also approachable,
Though I am not generalist, However, I am an Specialist.
I am persuasive and adaptive,
Direct and indirect,
Sweet, kind, nice and persuasive.
I may know less about tomato,
Even Less about mango, even too little about papeeeta,
But I know more about Angoor (grapes) that is not related to papeeeta.
I am Wine Steward, Knowledgeable in Wine,
And approachable to all kind quests,
Very talented in wine that everyone consumes to
Sneaking in, sneaking out
as clever as a mouse.
Running here, running there
clearly gone without a care.
Sniffs up to the stars
shining light, shining bright.
Charming little creatures
till it comes to the night.
Savages, beasts, under their pearly white coats.
Black little buttons to match
their black little totes.
Dimpled little grin
Swallowing--swallowing your breath.
Never trust these little killers,
they always lead to death.