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Sad Work Poems | Sad Poems About Work

These Sad Work poems are examples of Sad poems about Work. These are the best examples of Sad Work poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Verse | |

911 Aftermath Misguided Haters

You walk through the metal detector 
You look at me with a deep seated scorn
You loath that I made you remove your stuff
You had to take off your shoes belt and jewelry
You’re thinking “I’m no criminal or terrorist so why me”

I am only doing the job the government requires of me
I am not the reason you are harassed and had to partially strip
I do empathize with you seeing I have to do the same thing too
No one cares that I am a Screening Officer I am searched when I travel
The government says what’s good for the goose is good for the gander

You want to get mad at someone then look in the right direction
The ones who blatantly took the lives of our families and friends
Who took the choice of traveling to most places away forever
Who took the privilege of carrying most things on board away 
The freedom to travel with our liquids and gels peanut butter and jam

Don’t blame me because I am risking my life to keep you safe
Don’t blame me for someone not caring about your fate
Don’t blame me for what Mr. Harper and Mr. Obama says
Or for what the UK says is their Standard Operating Procedures (SOP)
Don’t blame me I am just the messenger that holds many lives in my hand

Copyright © Joy Wellington

Details | Elegy | |

His Legacy

Up into the sky 
he soared 
like an Angel

With us 
down here-- 
at Soupland, watching him as he soared 
like an Angel;

So gentle… 
and brave 
he was,
a strong love he had, sharing it till the end, yet

His breath
could not resist the resounding call 
of Heaven 
and he left, 

Leaving us his poetry, for 
when great storms come in, his laughter 
will dry our tears like rain.


for Tom Bell, a great poet who taught us all-- 
to laugh and to smile…to learn… and to give.    

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Rhyme | |


So I see how cruel life may be in a minute,
All around people’s faces gleam & glare
At my gloomy face but never see my net.
And I cry and cry and cry to get ‘em fair.

From times past, I knew of what may be
The finale of this sweet short time gained;
But now it comes with great dismay, to me.
With thoughts of melancholy stained.

Am losing my job to my brother,
I teach him my work as a father
Does to his sons and to the other,
He knows not my hearts as they gather.

They give a life, a life they can’t retain,
They offer me a choice, a choice not mine;
They lead me to the grave, to bury me and the ten;
But they in turn smile and smile as they dine

And so I see that they are not to be
The people I perceive may little see,
My serene into whirlwind occur to me
At a peek and glaze and short see.

Whatever the Asian will decide,
However I cope with them all,
I implore all the good to side
With me as evil entirely will fall.

Copyright © Dennis Sendoi

Details | Blank verse | |

Yard Work

Yard Work

I worked with stern and determined face
attention on the end of the rake
the fresh grass and orange leaves.

Out of the corner of my eye
I saw a small bird huddled 
fixed against the drain pipe, 
its wings tight against its body. 
It didn't stir. 
I bent closer and
saw the milky film over its dark eyes.

A drape of sadness
was thrown callously over my morning.

I buried it quickly and carefully.
Time to take care to scrape away
the sharp rocks and hollow out a little place
deep enough to keep the dogs away and
with such care 
as I chose the final
home for this tiny thing.

It may have been taken away
to make room for another.
While I write this, several
months have passed and my throat
still tightens from the memory.

Sadness and loss is still with me
and with me for all the birds 
that fall
from their nests 
or the sky
every day 
from now until eternity.

Copyright © Thomas Pitre

Details | Couplet | |

This Time of Year

The air is fresh, mornings crisp and clear
God I do love this time of year
Vibrant colors abound on the trees
Gracefully falling with the breeze
The workday runs from sun to sun
Until the "Bringing in of the crops" is done
I am a lucky man to live this life
Respect of my community and loving wife
Sometimes in life the land yields plenty
The blessings throughout the day are many
As I watch the sunrise to the east
It gives my soul a spiritual feast
For all my friends everywhere
To my Lord a silent prayer
To the north her majesty appears
For all to see beautiful and clear
Forever snowcapped and standing tall
Lady Shasta watches over all
To the south another blessing to see
The Sutter Buttes clouded in mystery
It was the Lord that gave them their birth
The shortest mountain range on earth
The coastal mountains to the west
Offers the sun a place to rest
Followed shortly for all to see
The "Harvest Moon" clear as can be
Then comes a moment that is hard
As I head my "Cat" off to the yard
My final ride of this year
My face accepts a single tear
My heart becomes full of sorrow
I inject myself with poison tomorrow
Thats the price that a junkie must pay
Years after he has changed his way
The reason is very clear to see
I put myself "At risk" to hepatitis C
I can't stop the fear from flooding in
What will it be like to hold a rig again
Through all the loss and all the gain
I reckon that moment will bring me pain
But through the pain I'm able to see
God has his angels covering me

Copyright © Michael Jordan

Details | Free verse | |

Elevators: 5 Horsemen

Part 1


the delicacy of friendship

I found you in the flowers
Standing tall we become one
Looking down from gangly towers
Squash, you burn, you pillage, son.

Follow me you say in tongues
Thy shallow mind reveal me tell
Whisper lies clean load the guns
I feel the burn I rot in hell

Friend folly menacing the liar
I loathe this coffin how it leaks
Dear foe you raped me set on fire
The onion peal itself and weeps

Part 2


dear monkey boy

Older eyes eat themselves,
glance and kill the other
Unified in the dance,
they steer the musty rudder.

Pained and sweeter deeper wells,
poised buckets drunk with water.
Singled out the one that dried,
handed weights to pull him under.

Wiser times capture the mind,
death justifies dishonor.
Knife slice neat through the devil's back,
who stares blank and milks the udder.

Part 3


patron saint

Inside this box
Goodbye tempestuous fall
My puppet of steel coiled thread
Smashed buttons and twisted dread,
Alarm these doors, and
Escape this delusive bunker bed

Stamp the spiders
Thief, vulture of the deflection
The mocking patron of the sinners
Erase this affliction
Relating inward at the reflection

Rise you fool

Part 4


i love you

close the grip
cinched hematic grip
drenched, clawing
seeking the sheave
becoming the counterweight

i absorb, now
extracting the heat
rise like a phoenix
away to be gone to be free
fix me! i have fixed me

i am alive and i love you

Part 5

Aye, Damager

Abolish her state of disrepair
Scattered, spattered drippy thoughts
All around this box of soused leaves
Soak, ferment in the faith of our love

I can't fix this, you know
I loathe this misunderstanding
Of what I am speaking, projecting
To me, Aye Damager, to you

This devil in me
turned and twisted
A wrecked elevator in rejection
Years locked painfully aware


Copyright © T.R. Sevrens

Details | Rhyme | |

The Doctor Is A Dead Man Walking

Bob had a special talent
That only worked in his men’s store.
He had ‘clothing ESP’.
He knew what his customers wanted…and more.

When customer would come into his store
Bob would invariably say, 
“Hello. I'm Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

And he was always right,
Never missed a color, fabric, style or size.
He even knew the necessary alterations.
Customers couldn’t believe their ears and eyes.

Meanwhile, in another part of town,
Joe had a pounding, relentless migraine
For every minute for more than five years,
It had driven him near insane.

He’d lost his job to the pain.
Then, he lost his wife.
He had lost a lot of weight and rarely slept.
Yes, his was a miserable life.

And, of course,  sex was out of the question…
Even a little self-abuse.
There was nothing left for Joe but pain.
He felt his life was of no use.

So, Joe went to his doctor.
“Doc, please help me end this pain.
Give me something to make me sleep
And never wake up again.”

“You know I can’t assist your suicide.”,
Then he looked sad, perhaps ashamed.
“I never dreamed it would last five years,
But I know how to end the pain.”

“You can make it go away?!
Tell me, Doc!  What’s the word?”
“I’ll have to remove your testicles.”
Was the last thing that Joe heard.

But…when he came to, it struck him.
Sex was out of the question anyway;
But he might enjoy his meals again,
And he could sleep for days.

“Please check me in, Doc.
This opportunity I cannot shirk.”
So, the doctor removed his testicles.
He did his very best work.

A few days later, Joe waddled along,
Headache free and feeling pretty nice;
But every attractive woman he saw 
Reminded him of his sacrifice.

He decided it was appropriate
To do something nice for himself for a change.
So, he went into a travel agency;
And a six month cruise he arranged.

As he left the travel agency,
He was excited, feeling ready to go;
But for such a glorious adventure,
He would need new clothes.

As he walked along, he saw Bob’s Men's Store.
He walked in, only to hear Bob say,
“Hello.  I’m Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

“How could you know?” asked Joe.
“It’s a gift.  I don’t know how, but I do.
You’ve suffered five years with an ailment,
Found relief, so now you’re taking a cruise.” 

Joe could not believe his ears.
How could this stranger possibly know?
"You're right! That's amazing!
And I'm going to need new clothes." 

Bob then laid out a fabulous wardrobe
All the right colors, fabrics, styles…and each size.
Joe was incredibly impressed.
He could hardly believe his ears and eyes.

“How do you like the wardrobe?”
“It’s wonderful!”  Bob could see that Joe was pleased.
“Now,” said Bob, “What about undergarments;
You know…shorts and tees?

Let’s see…medium crew neck tees, all cotton.
I believe that you prefer white….
And jockey shorts, all cotton…. 34s.
Yes, I'm sure that’s right.”

Joe beamed, “You’re an amazing talent
And I just this second realized,
You've laid out this entire wardrobe
And only missed one size.”

Bob, surprised by his mistake, asked, “Really?
What did I miss?  I did my best for you.”
“Well…you’re right.” said Joe, “I do wear Jockeys,
But…well…I wear 32s.

“Oh, no!” said Bob with an ugly grimace.
“That would be a serious mistake.
Thirty-twos will cramp your balls, 
You’ll get migraine headaches.”

Copyright © Robert Candler

Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | I do not know? | |


A handful of trinkets all that remains of the life you lived. Everything you touched 
cherished and did lost forever to mildew and decay. Just a tiny fragment of yesterday 
they are all locked away in a back ward dungeon. Sitting here realizing the legacy you 
left behind is nothing more than ashes, dust and a memory in my mind. The legacy you 
left behind.

Copyright © craig schaber

Details | Free verse | |

A Sad Man

He is a sad man, badly flawed, but hardworking
He believes he is beyond reproach, just like many proud men do 
That face does not crack a smile; a sign of 'weakness' it is to him
His poor children starve for the affection of a busy and distant Father
But by now, they've learned to keep warm hugs only for Mother

With the mindset that he was the spindle of his fine home and firm
Delegation of tasks came easy, and was delivered with shouts and expleties 
Like a dark cloud he'd hover over his staff as they worked
And with no qualms, he'd claim credit for successes
And no one would stand up to him; no one ever dared

Most important in his life was work; he had no genuine friend
His warped mind assured him that no one was his equal in anyway
At home, he planned the weekly meals and dictated where they'd shop
And when a drink at dinner was accidentally spilled
Unforgiveness ruled the home for days 

Toys seized as punishment were never to be seen again
Whether a favorite doll or game, it mattered not; sobs wouldn't break his heart
Clueless was he that in the hours he was away 
His submissive family and servants come alive
And during times when he was at home, it had the feel of a tomb

One Friday night he delayed the staff by working extra late
Then when he called down for his car only to find the driver asleep
His rage overtook his senses and he threw the driver out!
In that instant he sat in the driver's seat hurling insults out loud 
In blinding rain, and fuming with anger, he took the exit ramp at high speed

He never saw the old, blown-out tire coming at him just ahead 
Fate that night made a devastating decision... it was taking back control
In his bedroom today, he lies motionles and sadly, visitors never sit for very long 
Though unable to speak, he's gracious to see, the frolicking birds through his tears 
At times he stares at the lonely hour glass upon the shelf below the window sill

For Jeremy's "Objectify Me Free Verse" Contest

Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick

Details | Rhyme | |

Friends With Benefits

Living my life on the Dole*, Because my Mum told me so, Interview at ‘McDonalds’, but that Tyrant told me "No!", See, we're a family with pride, Don't sell fries at super-size, But where's the pride, If I can't provide, For my own style of life, Spent my money from the *Brew, On Irn-Bru**, I swear that’s true, Dreary, damp & cold, This black hole, I call home, Only 'joy' I get in life’s the 'stick' I use for X-BOX, And I aint got a tumble dryer so I step with wet socks, Work-shy, but money-hungry, Flats cramp-sized & pretty ugly, Arrogant guy, Until I woke up and realised that no-one loves me. Brain melts to slush, in this non-testing occasion, ‘Gain Work’ is a must, for a teenage Caucasian, Nothing separating me, From drug-addled Dads of three, No payday, Just giro day, No jobs… great, Keep trying mate, No end in sight as unemployment rises, Government gives you cash like they were handing out prizes, Where’s my reason to go out & work? My motivation, Its pleasing no-one now, this escalated situation, Experience is something that you earn, not that you’re born with, Inexperienced forever, if I don’t get employed quick, I don't enjoy sitting on my broken couch for hours, I'm your Friend with Benefits, can only wash with cold showers. (*Common British phrases for Jobcentre or Jobseekers Allowance Benefit) (**Famous Scottish soft drink mass produced around Britain)

Copyright © Craig Scott

Details | I do not know? | |

A Material Christmas

It's Christmas! Christmas!
That time of year
When people are filled...
With holiday cheer?

Yeah right. . .
I really do wish it were true
But people are people
Through and through

It's not about happiness anymore
Or in respect to what matters.
In reality it concerns what you get
And the food that is piled on the platters.

What has happened to the world of today?
Where is the 'loving and giving...'?
Now it is all just me, me, me.
Is this a nightmare? Or are we actually living.  

Yep we might have a lot of things
Hang on! Let's add some more
It isn't the family that I'm expecting
But the postman knocking at the door.

When the topic turns to Christmas cheer
Lets go stuff our faces...
Break out all that lovely beer!
Chuck away those graces!

But... Suddenly the month is over
There go all the gifts you gave
Your debt payments crawl closer and closer
And you become a material slave.

Copyright © Annie De Lys

Details | Rhyme | |

Blank Page

Too long have I been staring at this cruel blank page before me, My crazed, hysteric mind screaming and imploring I know there is a message that's dying to come out— I need to fill this confounded page without the slightest doubt! It's a simple predicament to manipulate, Into a mass of thought A futile attempt to insinuate, Weak hints are left with naught I sit here in silent desperation, What can fill this page? I slap myself in indignation, My eagerness becoming rage! Like roaches sporadically running from light My thoughts are but a haze The words I write just don't seem right, On this cruel blank page!

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Ode | |

I Feel Sad

I feel sad
like young girls
returned from school,
with empty bellies,
Yet at the backyard
washing 'Akpu' or 'Akamu';

It pains me
like fingers hurt
between frame and wood
of a jammed door;
It offends me
like red and green leaves
falling from trees,
and littering our brown compound
Forever and indiscriminately;

It kills me
like earth worm
destroying our fat yams
in the black sands
of our farms:

The love i feel for you.

# 'AKPU' - a fermented cassava which pulp is extracted from the roughage by means of   
washing with water. Done to produce a Nigerian swallow starch food. Quite irritating 
because of the foul odor of the fermented cassava. And a work for the mothers and 

# 'AKAMU' - A Nigerian word for fermented corn which pulp is extracted from the corn 
roughage by means of washing with water to produce a delicious starch drink. but 
production process is quite irritating too. Also a work for the mothers and sisters. 
in the black sands
of our farms

Copyright © lucky okoedion

Details | Ballade | |

Oh, what a hectic month

Oh,what a hectic month

Oh what a month it’s been
Two lots of relies came
Over from the old country
It’s been a frantic game
I’m not used to all this stuff
But I’m glad it all took place
Although it was real hectic
No frown did crease my face.

One trip to Margaret River
Wow! This, it was a blast
We toured those rich surroundings
Till we went home at last
Then the darned flue knocked me down
And I spent some time in bed
And then I put my back out
As I banged my bloody head.

It seemed that I was on the mend
But my computer shat itself
I lost both poems, and photos
They’re the sum of all my wealth
Thank God I got the poems back
Alas, but not the photos
I guess I lost them, all of them
But this is how it goes

It’s been some heavy karma
That’s all that I can say
But now that it’s all over
I feel real fine today
So it’s back to meditation
And working on my soul
It’s time to get some relaxation
And once more feeling whole

23 October 2013 @1450hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The Rain and Wind

The wind blew events all over the place.
Intense emotions and it gave chase.
Lightning lighting to show us the sky.
People try to sleep and not cry.
Wisping by the wind keeps us awake.
The time trying to sleep the storms take.
Chills in everyone gives all shiver.
The clouds surrounded by moonlight is silver.
Heavenly prayers that the rain will stop.
The flood stopped a car the person in it was a cop.
People have seen such devastation.
The road that people made was week in creation.
Rivers near by was over flowing.
Trees that were there was not showing.
By the hour it claimed many.
My father woke up and did not see any.
Floating by was a boat.
Keeping people above water and a float.
My father kept a canoe.  
That some day we would use it, that he knew.
Time to paddle up and down the street.
The rain water kept getting on our seat.
It was so dark after the moon was behind the cloud.
Still the noise of thunder still covered the ears loud.
The smell of moist water never seem to go away.
My brothers seem to still sleep anyway.
My head was bobbing up and down.
I was so tired that I could not hear a sound.
The wind blew back and fourth.
It seems that my mom and dad paddle their worth.
Till all the people we saw with grace.
Help us out with embrace.
The time was so late at night.
Everyone was so sleepy and losing sight.
The fight with the weather was so hectic.
The feelings of energy was electric.
Losing to such natural disaster is hard to understand.
When people working hard to block the river with bags of sand.
With hard workers like my mom and dad.
They make things happen that is not bad.
Rough with weather they experience more than ever.
Leaders they are they are very clever.
From the night light of street lights to the morning glow.
The wind did not stop so.
Bringing in more clouds that ill.
The people who were still tired still had will.
The rush of water and waves blasting push the wall side.
Pushing and the force brought water inside.
The battle of our hour was getting long.
Backup people came to aid us was strong.
Rested they were to keep everyone with hope.
The people stopped the water with the strength of rope.
Heavy rain and loss of homes bring people together.
It is kind of sad that this was the only time to gather.
Chaos comes happiness how true.
This is why we are human that gives us a clue.
It is our nature to keep rain falling.
To know when it is time for our calling.
The winds bring such pain and sorrow.
That is why rain sometimes fallow.

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

Details | Concrete | |


A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
after all.

Copyright © Miche Ulman

Details | I do not know? | |

You hurt me but I still love you

You hurt me but why do I still love you? You two timed me and it hurts to see you go. How do I trust you? How can I love you any more? You left when I gave up on us but then you came crawling back what do I do or say I love you or I hate you? What do you expect me to say to you that I'm gonna take back and say its ok? No I can't do that. You lied to me and cheated thank before you cheat next time.

Copyright © Jennifer Brown

Details | Free verse | |


You are now an outsider
No longer part of the mechanism
Not needed, surplus to requirement, redundant
Your mind slowly blunting at the bottom of the bottom drawer of life

The eyes of others betray derision and contempt
Fearful of catching your disease
Keeping a distance, loathing your weakness and inability
A moment of pseudo sympathy and they’re gone, you’re of no further use to them   

Every rejection is an undeniable confirmation of your failure
Affirmation is everywhere; you just never saw it before now
Self-confidence, ground down with every counter-opinion to yours
Your worth is worthless and your prospects worth less than that

Pride declines charity yet you wish they’d persist
Dismissal and a cynical laugh is your antidote to their wise advice
Don’t you think I have thought of that? Or tried this? You say
Embarrassment at your own ineptitude has become hostility

Your child's face is a gallery of unconscious naivety
You draw her in close, a surrogate for decent food and warmth
Inwardly you cry for her and, perhaps, more for you at your inability to provide
You’re not sure how or when it will end but will end

Slowly, yet quite perceptibly, you have become the person you once scorned
You now comprehend the reason for their shabby appearance 
You realise that hesitance isn’t stupidity but a fear of making a wrong impression
You can now walk a mile in another man’s shoes…until they wear out

Copyright © Howard Bull

Details | Epic | |

Statutory Rape 101

Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey

Details | Lyric | |

I Can't Say It Without You

I was your never ending composer
We spent many a nights, and many an hour together
But now you’re lost inside
And I can’t find my way, again.

( chorus )
Cause I can’t say it without you		
It hurts to be without the feeling		
Never knowing when it will return		
But I know that you would stay with me	
If you came back, again some day		
But till then I’ll wait till you appear.	

I really miss the way you make me feel
People said we were meant to be together
Why’d you leave me so unexpectedly
I hope you come back soon.

( Chorus )

It’s been two months since I’ve written you
All I’ve got to show is crumpled bits of paper
The passion and creativity is now gone
So come back home so I can work it out.	

Copyright © John Paluszek

Details | Quatrain | |

For I Had Lied

Dada was everything to our youth
Our wide faculty was his help
Our recognition was his sooth
Nobody does it than his rep

Many youth he carried up there
Without seeking any penny
Many services he rendered
For free. All of which we did see 

He was not a king or a prince
Perhaps he was just a God sent
To his community, king and prince...
He begot not but was begot

Mindful of his predicament
But dare not showed it on earth
Till that Friday night he drove out
Of town and took to a scar oath

The next hour we heard he had died
And left us belated letter
"Don't cry for me, for I had lied.
...I'll die now before later"

*cry for...: Mourn


Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole

Details | Haiku | |

an exotic dance

an exotic dance
performed for the gentlemen –
mother cries

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Details | Free verse | |

Emigration comes full circle

I left Ireland in the 80's with my husband and two babies for Holland. In 2003, we 
returned so that our children could have an Irish University education. Dublin was 
buzzing with life at the time, it was very expensive but we were home. Now in 2011, 
my daughter is emigrating, back down the old ancestral path, she is going to Madrid 
to teach English there. Our country has collapsed so badly, there is no employment 
here so we are exporting our young, educated children by the day. A sad day for me 
as my daughter leaves tomorrow. I wrote her this poem.

To Sarah
On the wave of emigration
I want you to know
That I see you, a fellow female
An equal on every level
Not just my daughter
My little pink princess
I see you as a woman
A power within this world
With oceans to offer
A lifetime still to learn
Go to your new life
A teacher in Madrid
Be free and fearless
Spread your wings and fly
Take the opportunities
Shape them to your dreams
You have all the tools
You can use them now.

Your analytic mind
Will help you make good decision
Fair and just rewards will ensue.
Your radiating heart
Will gift you new friendships
Maybe even a new love
All in good time
You will never be alone
Because you have a deep sense of self
This will be fortified
With this new tide
Your feet firmly planted
Will always serve you well
Balancing the ups and downs of Libra
Always true to yourself
Life will be true to you too.

We live in a new age today
This global world is small
As we email and skype
Fly back and forth to visit
We will continue to love
As mother and daughter
Our journeys through life
Forever together
My love
I will hold you safe
In my heart.

Copyright © Eiken Laan

Details | Free verse | |

They're Watching You

They're watching you,
they're always watching you,
check out the daily news.

Henchmen rob bank,
two officers killed,
change channel.

Reality T.V.
a celebraity stumbling out of a club,
drunk as hell.

Change channel,
a gay couple buying a house,
in a white collar neighborhood.

They're watching you,
they're always watching you,
even when you don't know it.

Someone is always watching you.
Take out the trash,
wash the dishes.

like a camera.

they're always watching you,
Politians always watching you.

School teachers,
Always watching you.

Smile for the camera
they're watching
so just wave and smile.

Bullies on playground jungle-gyms
looking out for the ugly nerd,
found him.

Hiding under the woodchips,
get him, beat him up,
I told you, they're always watching you.

Look at me,
look what I can do,
can you see me?

I'll drink to that,
for they're always watching.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | I do not know? | |

Forever Angel



There is always an angel there by your side at all times. 

Even if you don't see or hear the angel, its always there.
Their there for you when things get tough. Right there by your side with an arm around your 

                           (God didn't promise that life would be easy.
       But he did promise that he will be by your side every step of the way.)

 If you just think about this when you're alone, you'll relize that you not alone.
*please comment if you like or just have a thought. (or fav poem if you like*                       


Copyright © Brittany Andrews

Details | Alliteration | |

Work Aint Honest But It Pays The Bills

They say when life throws you lemons, make lemonade. Well the niggas i know work and its not honest, but it pays the bills in the words of badu because she gone tell you the truth and ima give you the scoop on a livin troop who got the boot because he didnt wana shoot a dude in the same resemblence as hisself but he still work, its not honest, but it pays "his" bills. -Afro_Kira

Copyright © shakira jeffery

Details | Verse | |

A Wreath on the Tiles Factory

Lips of a chimney
always puff
gray smoke out.
Lorries, loaded with tiles,
always rush out.
Rupees always heap up
in a wooden drawer.
Red tiled roofs
always give them refuge.
Those ‘always’ remains
in the fossils now.

Weeds lock the compound.
Rust hugs the bolts.
Experience dies in arms.
Coolies teach their children
how to hush the hunger.
Concrete roofs
proudly put wreaths
on their predecessors.
Now  a coolie’s lips puff
curls of  worries out
before the closed gate.

Copyright © FABIYAS M V

Details | Free verse | |

The Hardest Thing

Last night we had a quarrel
We went to bed so mad
Each had to get up early
The morning was quite sad
I never meant to say that
I know you didn’t, too
With hopes to reconcile
Just know that I love you

Yeah darling…
It couldn’t be more true

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

Each morning when we go to work
A piece of me, it goes with you
I cannot wait to get back home
To do those things we do

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

I hope tonight we’re civil
We listen and we learn
Together, we’ll get past this
Each others trust, we’ll earn
So, then we can retire
To the bedroom that we share
Lie within each others arms
And show how much we care

Yeah darling…
It couldn’t be more true

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

Each morning when we go to work
A piece of me, it goes with you
I cannot wait to get back home
To do those things we do

That’s why 
Leaving you
Is the hardest thing to do

And when my work’s over
I will come back to you

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt

Details | McWhirtle | |

Yiorgos the Philanthropist

I stand in great awe of
Yiorgos the Philanthropist
who in public shared cheerfully 
his wealth for the needy.

Oh, what a hypocrisy
It’s unbelievingly hard for him 
to give the wages of his good maid
in return, of her long service.

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago