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Funny Work Poems | Funny Poems About Work

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

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Details | Rhyme | |

Modern Life

Modern Life
We are open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week
Except Monday mornings and Sunday nights.
What are they on about, at this place that I seek
That is supposed open 24/7 days a week.

The pub is open we have an unlimited license,
Let’s have a drink before we go to bed!
I’m sorry we are closed the doors shut at eleven
That’s what the snooty landlord then said.

The helpline is here no matter when 
Give us a call and we can help you then.
Ring, ring, ring, ring, the phone rings on
A tape recording says, “Sorry everyone has gone.”

My car has broken down the man came to fix it
“It doesn’t work” he said sratching his head.
“There a computer on board and I will need to record
All the things that are broken down” he said.

But I need my car; I looked at him hard, 
And he gave me a wizened up frown.
He plugged himself in, then said with a grin.
The computer says it’s fine, the engine is strong.

But the car doesn’t work you toothless little jerk, 
The computer plugged in must be wrong.
“How can it be wrong it says the engine is strong?” he gave me a shifty look
“To be honest missus if it ain’t on the pute, perhaps the answers in a book."

He could find nothing wrong, the onboard computer gave a bong,
But it still said all was okay.
The tow-truck they called out with its ramp and its chains
Now they have taken my poor car away.

Modern life is so frustrating; we have everything at our fingertips
There is 24/7 that does not mean that, and fury does exit my lips.
If its 24/7 and help lines constantly, a car that is run by computer.
Why doesn’t anything work, I feel like the jerk, can somebody lend me a shooter.

I want to blast and to break all technology of late
It’s driving me to drink and distraction
The open all hours pubs are now closed, 
And my car is still out of action.

The bank is closed, the computers just died, 
The telephones gone on the blink
The TV HD, it is fuzzy like me;
I think I’m going to put my head in the sink.

The oven would be better, but its electric not gas
So I don’t think it would work as well
I want to end it all, not practice for the day,
The Grim-Reaper points at me, and sends me to hell.

Therefore, I’ll fill up the sink and put my head in the drink, 
Oh, blast, who is that at the door?
It’s the water board here, we are just making it clear,your water is off for a week.
Typical, I have no car and it is too far
To walk out and jump in the creek.



Details | Rhyme | |

THE AGING PROCESS

Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.

Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.

Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.

Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.

Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?

Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.

The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.

The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.

Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.

Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.

Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.


Details | Rhyme | |

RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC

HONK HONK BEEP BEEP
SO TIRED OF THESE CITY STREETS
FUMES EXHAUST AND NOISE NEVER ENDING
HAVE I LOST IT
WELL THATS PENDING
GO AHEAD CUT ME OFF
TAKE THE RIGHT OF WAY
GO AHEAD FLIP ME OFF
CANT BE NICE TODAY
HONK HONK BEEP BEEP
ANOTHER MORNING COMMUTE
ONE IS RUDE AND RECKLESS
AND THE REST MUST FOLLOW SUITE
HONK HONK BEEP BEEP
THEY ALL LOOK OH SO PISSED
MUST BE RUDE AND RECKLESS
HUMMM GUESS THATS A MEMO THAT I MISSED
HONK HONK BEEP BEEP
JUST WANNA GO BACK TO BED
HONK HONK BEEP BEEP
LOOK OUT YOU STUPID CREEP!
THIS TRAFFICS MESSING WITH MY HEAD
BUT STOP DRIVING LIKE THAT OR WE'LL ALL BE DEAD
HONK HONK BEEP BEEP
ONE IS DOING HER MAKEUP
APPARENTLY WITH HER FEET
ANOTHER IS ON THE PHONE
WISH I COULD TURN THIS CAR AROUND
AND HURRY RIGHT BACK HOME
WELL ITS NEARLY FIVE OCLOCK
BACK IN THE CAR
TIME TO ROCK
HONK HONK BEEP BEEP
CANT WAIT TO TAKE A BATH AND GO TO SLEEP


Details | Lyric | |

I found a job

I found a job at last

Well, I worked hard for twenty year
For a greedy type of bloke
I pushed and pulled until me legs went weak
Then one day I felt this twinge
It ran right down me spine
So I went out, some doctors help to seek

Now I can’t sit, and I can’t walk
Can’t even wash me feet
So off I goes to see this medico
He looked me over knowingly
As if he understood!
Then said “You’re doing fine, now off you go”

So off I goes to get a job
I gave some boss a call
But when he saw the way it was for me
He said “I can’t give you a job!
You’re stuffed my boy, that’s all
Oh, don’t tell me about your misery”.

I tried for an insurance claim
They said “we know you’re kind!!
You say you’re hurt, but is this really true?
To get some money out of us
You’ll have to test our might
We deem you fit to get a job, we do”

Well now I’ve got myself a job
It’s a breeze, I must confess
I lie her licking postage stamps all day
When I said I couldn’t work
I forgot about me tongue
So now I’ve got a job, and it’s okay.


Written in 1990





Details | Free verse | |

My Boredom Disease

Like sick allergies, 
Boredom can be passed around
I call it: THE BOREDOM DISEASE

Like a horrid storm,
Boredom can catch you off guard
Hold on for DEAR LIFE!

Like the whooping cough,
Boredom can be serious
If I were you, I’d
Get a vaccination ! 


Details | I do not know? | |

Homework

Homework oh' homework
All kids say it stinks,
They say they wont do it,
but that it would disappear once they blink,
They say who invented it;
and who brung it forth,
They say they wish teachers would stop giving it,
And all though I agree
Homework is a good thing,
It will help you, you'll see
It will help tomorrow, today, 
and years later
It will help you be smarter
it'll help you participate
So don't say that you hate it
All though you clearly do, because
you know that you need it
Don't you?


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 would be too small, 
They would cramp your balls.
You’ll get migraine headaches.”


Details | Limerick | |

Cranky Boss

I worked for a cranky old boss
who came to work always quite cross.
Finally found out,
he developed gout,
when stocks took a capital loss. 

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey


Details | Rhyme | |

Keep It Turnin' to the Right

Oklahoma cowboy, tough coal miner’s son
Born in Henryetta, south of Tulsa some
Raised by daddy’s momma, taught him wrong from right
Daddy taught him ropin’, taught him how to fight
 
Herding made no money, its stock was really down
Mamaw feeling poorly, dad mining at Old Town
Seventeenth of December, in the year of twenty-nine
Dad was shoring timber, 9th west entry of the mine
 
The gas ignited close to him, he never smelt its breath
It belched fire and thunder, and everlasting death
Sixty-one they counted, who wouldn’t see the sun
Twenty-five weren't recognized, they buried them as one
 
On that fatal Tuesday, the boy became a man
Had to make a living, had to have a plan
Heard about the oil patch, got a chance to try it
Drill the earth for all she’s worth; just keep it turnin' to the right

Some they called him weevil, some they called him worm
Some they wouldn't speak to him, figgered he was just short term
They told him "Open up that vee door; go to get the key
It's in the possum belly, in doghouse number three"

Took his turns at floor hand, at first a little green
Became the fastest broke out hand the driller ever seen
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right

The driller called him partner; the pusher called him son
The other roughnecks shook his hand, and took him in as one
Got up on the monkeyboard; learned to spin the chain
Pumped that mud and shed his blood, and worked right through the pain

On a bitter frosty evening tour, in a cold December snow
He saw derricks lit like Christmas trees in the distance far below
He saw the fairyland of the refinery, shining through the night
He saw Mother Earth and the universe, all turning to the right

He got a job as driller, to West Texas he would go
A boomtown named McCamey, southwest of Angelo
Hired a shack from Pansy, put money in the bank
Drove his pickup out of town, seen the million barrel tank

The oil patch was a hard life, moving all the time
But he saved a lot of money, didn't waste a dime
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right

Sent his kids to college, working through the years
One became a teacher, the others engineers
He hung up his hardhat; he shed his steel-toed shoes
Then one day he passed away; he'd finally paid his dues

Made it to the Pearly Gates; they handed him his wings
Handed 'em right back to them; said "I don't need these things.
I want to do some drilling. That's my heavenly plan."
They said "Go talk to the Devil then, cause he's the company man."

Old Scratch needed hellfire; he always come up short
Too many bankers and lawyers and others of that sort
When he heard they had a driller, he jumped up with delight
He danced a jig, "You've got your rig. Keep it turnin' to the right."

Now he drills for hellfire; in the derrick he's got Jake
Buck and Sam on the platform; Sonny's on the brake
They all grin like demons; they're all where they belong
Doing what they love to do, they sing their roughneck song

"We all eat caliche and sniff the devil's brew
Play dominos with Satan and whip him at forty-two
Work all day on Sunday and honky-tonk all night
We're oilfield trash and we'll take cash to keep it turnin' to the right

We all love West Texas; it's like the Promised Land
Horny toads and rocky roads, and even dunes of sand
Dust storms every morning, northers every night
We get tans and freeze our cans to keep it turnin' to the right"

The lingo used around the rig you won't hear much in church
It'll curl your hair and make you stare and leave you in the lurch
So close your eyes and realize it's gonna get much worse
Drink your beers and plug your ears; here comes the final verse

"We p*ss longneck Lone Stars; we f*rt Frito pie
Give us ****, and we will spit some Red Man in your eye
Don't **** with us, or we will cuss and bring you to the fight
We're low class, but we kick *** to keep it turning to the right"


Click "About this poem" above the title to see the notes.


Details | Limerick | |

EGO WRECKER

EGO WRECKER
“”””””””””””””””””

that fascist scrapes her paws like a bear hissing orders, crossed-legged on a chair sent a rumor mail in haste that prexy's gal has bad taste…. revenge! boss works now as our sweeper
© ‘’’’’’’’’’ Carolyn Devonshire’s Contest Single Limerick… Horrible Bosses


Details | Light Poetry | |

Playwight

Chew me up and spit me out,
Track me down on my route.
Don’t let me get away with that,
If I get up knock me flat.
Keep a watch on what I do,
Make sure it’s what you want me to.
Don’t let me stray from the path,
If I do rain down your wrath.
Steel my spirit with your will,
Keep me moving straight until,
My work is finally said and done,
Then I’ll return to share the fun.

This is me the poet talking about me the playwright. When I write these silly rhymes I can do or say anything that I want but in a play adapted from a book I must remain true to the story. I’ll never adapt someone else’s work again.


Details | Rhyme | |

For the sake of sanity

I've had it up to here
life is so off track
hand me the remote
let's rewind it back

17 years old
I thought my life was hard
Well now I see the difference
'Cause now I am in charge

Companies are screaming
They get right my ear
"Miranda, pay your bills"
Clean your credit dear

Walk in the door
And I fall flat on my face
Toy's from crack to crevice
Completely out of place

Clean up this lovely mess
Get the kiddies off to bed
I try relaxing in the bath
To hear cries of "mama" in my head.

-Miranda Lambert-
for March Madness contest.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Parking Garage

I took my mother to the doctor just the other day.
An odyssey of sorts and an adventure I must say.
We came down from the mountain to the city about nine.
In spite of some construction work we made it there on time.

We entered the garage and slowly started up the screw.
Looking for a spot, knowing there would be so few.
Another parking pickle, we would have our work cut out.
A predicament of parking, and a challenge without doubt.

Up to level three and still we couldn’t find a place.
And then right to the left, finally, an empty space.
But it was not to be, it was an empty spot mirage.
A motorcycle parked inside a parking space garage.

We kept on going up to level four, the color green.
It certainly was the most crowded that we’d ever seen.
And then a possibility, a space just to the right.
Zooming in, I saw it, like radar in my sight.

But disappointment struck again, it was the old routine.
A car parked in two spaces, now I started feeling mean.
Now why the heck did they not park inside the yellow lines.
They’re lucky they do not give out illegal parking fines.

Finally, we found one, such a treasure to behold.
A place to rest our weary car, a story to be told.
We slipped right in the vacant spot, with smiles upon our faces.
Amazing how such happiness is brought by parking spaces.

Then just before our lights were off the pressure had begun.
For it was not yet over, not nearly were we done.
A yellow car was waiting with its high beams burning bright.
The older couple looking very desperate – what a sight.

‘No,’ I shook my head we have just now pulled in this spot.
Their faces turned from desperate into angry, twisted knots.
Then slowly they drove past me with a fire in their eyes.
I quickly stepped aside for not a thing would have surprised.

And then ten seconds later a big motor bike arrived.
The driver had a look that seemed to me to be contrived.
What could the man be thinking, to park right by my side?
My look said, ‘Don’t you try it, keep on stepping with your ride!’

Finally, we walked away, car parked, alarm turned on.
Heaven knows what antics would occur while we were gone.
Behind us was a long parade of drivers and their plights. 
Like prisoners, all trapped, inside a sea of blinking lights. 


Details | Limerick | |

A Whole Week Color-Mania

Colors will always make my  life happier,
They also make my whole world brighter
       What if there’s no color?
       I think,  I’ve  no life galore
And I cannot make myself much prettier.

So, I’ve got a more fantastic idea,
To show everyone my color-mania
     For Monday Luck,  I wear red
     From my feet to my head
Like a  dragon of New Year in China.

Then comes the next day, it’s Tuesday
Keeping  aura,  I’ve color of sun ray
    Yellow dress  and jewelries,
    They say,  I’ve  hepatitis
But, I don’t care no matter what they say.

Then comes the third day of the week,
More work are done making me weak
    To conceal my exhaustion 
    Green color shows pretention
That my life and vigor are still at peak.

Thursday comes so perfectly great,
I wear purple , also my favorite
    Purple  fingernails and lips,
    Its on me up to the tips
And I get smiles from whoever I meet.

Friday, the last day of my  office work,
On this day,  rainbow color over perk
   I use multi-colored things,
   Feeling of joy they’ll  bring
 No one says I carry myself like a quirk.

Saturday and Sunday are weekends, 
Still, work and activities never end
    Two days, I’ll be all in pink
    People see me can’t wink
Tickled pink that I look so young my friend.




Sept. 22, 2012

First Place
Contest: Colors
Judged: 10/15/2013
Sponsor: Poetess Skat


Details | Light Poetry | |

Clueless Job Applicant

You’ll never guess whom the cat drug in; have a day where you just couldn’t win?
He came strutting in, smacking his gum loud, dressed to the nines Goth Punk style.
Tats trailed down his left arm, with my notice, he said, saving up for the other arm.
When ask about drugs, his answer to me was: “Yes, I’ll share” most invitingly…

Metal adornments on ears, nose, and lips, didn’t want to know, the all of it, at this.
As I noticed, he smiled most cattily, asking: ‘Want to see where else they might be?’ 
Hair a Mohawk with a trail down his back, colors of the rainbow, left nothing to lack.
Steel studs on a black leather butt, said, ‘Bite Me!’ with each and every staged strut.

What are you kidding?… Do my eyes me deceive, or did he just make a pass, at ME?
No Way! I’d rather drop kick him from my office fast, didn't he have any real class?
The application, a Sales Manager Job. Who would try to send me over the deep end?
Bet it had been a practical joke, beginning to end, so I simply held on, my friend.

He must've read my face, forhe smirked, I continued to ask for his list of experience.
His experience was none, but he said he managed his I-tune collection, very well.
Of course, he was the Leader of his ‘Chat Room’. I wondered, ‘Who could tell?’ GEE!
Also an impressive set up on his Facebook page, for his innumerable video games.

I ask how he was qualified for ANY job? Said, Dad ‘THE CEO’ wanted him employed.
I verified this with a call, was told not to be too Harsh, he had Potential, after all...
Ask what job he wanted to give his son? ‘Let him chose himself’, came the real clue!
Ask him, what job he really wanted to do, ‘VP in charge of Recreation’ was imbued.

Said he'd check out all the great places, in his Dad’s fancy Porche. Honestly True!
I kid you not! And he wanted his girlfriend, made into his secretary, Yah! No Doubt!
Believe it or not, he got all he thought he was due. All approved by the CEO’s! True!
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better… I began to really reconsider…

Really, who had been clueless… It hadn’t been him!… Which left me in a dither…
Knowing I just couldn’t win!  I’d be glad when this day was finally, truly, done… 
The kid had probably thought this a great joke on me from beginning to the end!
My perfect job, had just come undone! Apparently, being in HR isn’t always fun! 

My college degree, that took so much sacrifice, no longer sparkled, so much to me.
Boy did I now WISH, I was a CEO’s SON! As I simply got all the paper work done. 
Later, I saw the family portrait on the CEO’s desk. Lucky me! One down!… 
Only eight more to go!

Carol Eastman and Hubby


Details | Haiku | |

ZOOKEEPER

Lookin' after pests
Keepin' a CLOSE eye on 'em
"Those wild animals!"

Roamin' around zoo
Searchin' for sneaky monkey
Hidin' in a tree

Zookeeper gets mad
"Where's Marty, the smartypants!?"
"He TOOK my cage keys!"


Details | Sonnet | |

THE LIFE OF A DRUNKEN WRITER

They assigned me me to write a sonnet about the life of a drunken writer
whose dream wouldn't shatter, but his foolishness wasn't in the past tense; 
he spent endless hours reading blogs of people who didn't make sense...
in chat rooms he found geeks, charlatans and a casual liar. 
These are the ones who can text all day as kids do for fun... 
what's the excuse for being late and perform with a brainless head?
Here's proof of his laziness: he didn't write anything to earn him bread.   
" Wake up, your work is piling up...you snore as pigs in a barn! "
the co-worker in the next booth sneered as the boss approached Fred
who stuttered and tried to explain why he couldn't get the work done...
while his breath stunk and couldn't stand him looking awfully mad.
" I need that article by tomorrow, or you'll get a pink slip and are gone! " 
" Sir, the last article was a hit...you liked that sex-pot with those boobs! "
" Why can't I write about today's generation who have the speed of raccoons? "


Details | Free verse | |

Ramblings of a Graveyard shift worker....

I used to complain about having to work at night on weekends.
Everyone was having fun but li'l ol' me.
Some years back I had an epiphany on the matter.
Suddenly, I had time to cash my check AND pay my bills!
Then, I might possibly catch a movie, which has plenty of seating on Monday nights!
But my favorite part is: The People Zoo.
I started visualizing folks in their cubicles and at their counters as exhibits.
You find mostly monkeys in cubicles working for some government agency.
The sharks you'll find in the car lots and on showroom floors.
The insects buzzing and dutifully mimicking their peers are found at schools.
The buzzards and carrion feeders can be found at law firms and in courtrooms.
The bulls and bears can be found scrapping it out on Wall street,
While the elephants and donkeys exchange insults on the TV monitors.
The pigs are found cruising the streets making sure the rats and snakes don't take over.
The blood-sucking Vampire bats can be found working for insurance companies.

BUT.......

Just a warning: Most of these exhibits offer you no protection from the brutality of nature!
There are no tour guides and no guarantees of safety or fun.....
And, one more thing: They will eventually come to see you in YOUR exhibit!


Details | Rhyme | |

When the Boss Says See Me

When the Boss Says, “See me”

By Elton Camp

Abner eyed the sticky note on his report with unease
In twenty years with the firm, hadn’t seen one of these

Grapevine was saying the boss had a nephew to hire
But before he could do that, someone he must fire

Could Abner expect, for his work, a sense of loyalty?
He knew that it wouldn’t be long before he would see

Trembling with fear, he sat in his little cubicle for a while
Trying to collect his thoughts for when put under trial

After a bit, he decided that he couldn’t put it off anymore
As if walking the last mile, he stood outside the boss’ door

Abner rapped on the door and the boss called him in
Boss didn’t shake his hand & there was no trace of a grin

“Fellow, I’ve been checking your work last month or two.
And I feel that I am required to tell you what is so true.”

Abner took a deep breath for what he knew would come
He was about to be put on the road by that pompous bum

At his age, it might be impossible for him a job to locate
And to have to tell his family was what he did most hate

“Abner, even more than in the past, your work is outstanding.
So it is a promotion, private office, and raise I am handing.”


Details | Quatrain | |

Fire And Ice

The Devil sits there playing, he’s as happy as he can be
He has a new game to play, he rubs his fiery hands in glee
Down in the bowels of the earth, the deepest hottest spot
Where white magma burns, he collects it, in his devilish crock.

He keeps all the tortured souls he has collected through the years
Especially the greedy ones, he know how to play on their worst fears
Crucibles of white hot lava, he makes them pound all day
Until their muscles burn and burst, then the devils imps do flay.

The skin they flay from their backs, but still the pounding goes on
And little by little a diamond is formed, each one the bestest one
A pile of diamonds the devil has them make, but still the lava pours
The pounding must continue, piles of diamonds grow on the floor.

The clarity, the excellence, this perfection in clear carats
The devil tells them he wants more, the imps take skin from their backs
More and more diamonds they are looking as cool as ice
He taunts the greedy souls down there he says “Now don’t they look nice.”

When he has a mountain of them, he lets the pounding halt
The lava stops pouring for a while, and then there is a jolt
The poor tired souls are staring at this mountain of ice-like gems
When the Devil pulls a lever the pounding starts again.

This time a floodgate is open and he says they can take their fill
They can cool themselves on the diamonds; they can try it if they will
The clearest of all the diamonds, send shivers down their spines
They try to pocket a few but the devil says …“They’re mine.”

Another gate is open, lava flows through hot, the crucibles refilled
The Devil says now get to work I don’t want to see a single drop spilled
When they can work no more, he lets them have a rest 
Then opening up another door he says “I bet you all have guessed.”

“Now you have made more wealth, than the world can ever use
These cool pieces of pounded lava, this ice mountain you are going to lose
Just watch my merry greedy souls, just watch my new display
As a running river of lava washes the ice clear diamonds away… 

Now I will show you what we will do with all of them 
Just watch how they melt down, so we can start all over again
So pound away my merry soul’s, pound and pound them well
This is what you loved before; you found the love of money was Hell

Competition Entry: Fire and Ice. Sponsored By Carol Sunshine Brown 
 
© Mandy Tams~GG~ 21/11/2012


Details | Rhyme | |

The Soup Hall of Fame

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION


Details | Rhyme | |

Ol' Bess Was A Bust

Young and single, just got a job in a neighbour town, Thought I’d buy a flashy car so I could get around, My boyfriend at the time said that I should get a Camaro, It was new, orange and shiny, how could I be so narrow. I crowned her Bess and drove her home with pride, All my friends called, they wanted to go out for a ride. Summer was so much fun, what a splash I was making. Then gone, both summer and the boyfriend I was dating. Winter rolled in with tons of snow and patches of ice, Getting to work in my Camaro, was like rolling the dice. Ol’ Bess would skid to the left and swerve to the right, Wow, I held on to the steering wheel with all my might. So I resigned that Bess was not good in cold weather, Even with snow tires, she blew around like a feather. Then suddenly a new quirk started as I turned on the key, She spluttered, oh great, guess I won’t make the grand prix. Bess would start well at times then for no good reason, She’d stammer, then stop, reek of gas - in any season. Bess and I visited many auto repair shops by way of a tow, The carburetor was like a fountain, out of it the gas would flow. Apparently a carburetor is needed to make Bess purr, So I had it rebuilt, then replaced, oh the bills, what a blur, Then a starter motor and strut, remember Bess is brand new, After three years of aggravation, I traded her in, I was through! Guess a cool single girl may look good in a splashy sports car, But if your car doesn’t start or run, you won’t get too far. So I put on my sunglasses, look cool but feel like a real wart, As I drive to work in sleet and snow in my old Ford Escort. Written for Contest “Driving Me Crazy” Won 6th Place


Details | Couplet | |

A Pill Of Life

A Pill Of Life

A dream , a secret wish takes me for a groovy-ride
to be strong and tough and not the baby -cry. 

I muse up on Popeye ,the macho sailor man
envy him for that leaves he had in a simple can

handy that he kept, to puff his muscles out
when swallowed a tuft of spinach in to his gout. 

spinach would mess me up at work and play
so, I would rather 'pill ' em  up in a pop- down pill

boss or boys, creed does not matter 
pill must work well with all in a batter

one for the boy, 2 for the howling lady,
3 for the boss ,so it goes ; keep more for the bawdy

Pills to tough me up to deal with the deceptive and dowdy ones
to live a kingly life and dust happy hands off their pokes and puns 


For Russell Sivey's contest- Pill Of Life. 
13.02.2013


Details | Ode | |

An Ode To A Dead Apple

Ode To A Dead Apple
Oh poor Dan what can we say
He’s had such bad news delivered today
His Apple Mac that’s virus free
As expensive and speedy as can be.
To do your work is such a breeze 
Bug free it does not catch a sneeze
But what the Apple people did not do
Was protect it from the likes of you
Your Apple Mac that you so love
Is put to rest and looks down from above.
The death of your Mac is hard to take
Don’t do anything stupid for goodness sake
It was tired with all the work you do
And sleepy just like De and you
But listen to some advice that’s free
Never give it any more coffee or tea.
© 21/06/2102~GG~

To my poor Nephew that has spilled a mug of Coffee and Killed his Mac


Details | Rhyme | |

My Life

My life has been varied and long at many things I failed. Aged seven I wanted to be a train driver but that idea was soon derailed. I trained to be an Olympic athlete came last in every race I studied to be a lawyer and lost my every single case I left my job as a crane driver on the day I was hired My stint as a Gigolo left a lot to be desired. I applied to be a hotel porter but was told there was no room and my time as a concert pianist was distinctly out of tune. So I became a writer and dream my time away I can be who or where I want whilst staying in bed all day.
Ken Duddle


Details | Narrative | |

'Altered Needs'


He was all fired up he had it all figured out this was it, the end of us "I need my space" or so he thought until she entered the room dressed totally different to what is “her norm” a black dress with high heels legs that go on forever, he almost walked into the bathroom door mouth hanging open "Err did you go to work like that?" he asked “Yep of cause I did, I always do,"was her reply Uhm, it's the first time I see you dressed like that Nonchalantly while getting rid of her clothes she replied, “Well now if you more at home and less "at work" You’ll see me more in my work attire then in my pajamas” Gawking at her scanty underwear, He saw her swing her hips as she left the room Confucius Joe was left behind, feeling less desperate for space and more a need for closeness
©030620121735


Details | Couplet | |

Good Morning, Good Morning

I hear a little greeting at least once every day. “Good morning. Good morning,” both friends and strangers say. And when I’ve been awakened and turn the TV on, news folks have been saying it now since the break of dawn. How fitting the expression (that the dawn is breaking). Dawn sure breaks my restful sleep as I lie there aching.. . . Aching to go back to my private land of dreams, to burrow under blankets. Instead, it always seems. . . I’ve barely laid my head upon my pillow when my clock’s alarm starts buzzing. I turn it off and then. . . I quickly dress for work with barely time to eat. Dashing to my car, I hear the birdies’ “Tweet, tweet, tweet.” I know what they are saying to all the other birds. Those crazy birds are saying it not even using words! “Good morning. Good morning.” And merrily the sun beams down as I go speeding to work again. What fun! To bed, to rise, and early! To do those things I should, But I will not. . . and so my mornings never will be good! For Frank's "What Annoys you" and now for PD's Contest on Poems written in the a.m.


Details | Limerick | |

A Halo

There was once was a lady from town
Who wore a halo like a crown
Told her daughter-in-law
Dresses should wear like squaw
Wore one to work and naked frowned

The loom grabbed her dress and wham bam
Naked from the waist down~life in jam
Supervisor gave coat
Took her home and I quote
"I put my blue jeans on grand slam"

My mother was a very stern believer that women should wear dresses..
My brother married late in life and his wife worked in the weaving department..
She did a job called filling batteries..She had to walk between the looms to do
her job..They had suggested to the women that they should wear tight fitting 
pants or blue jeans..To please my mother she made her a new dress and wore 
it to work..First thing, it got caught..It ripped it and her slip off..She was left 
standing naked ..

  

Sponsor: Black Eyed Susan
Contest: Any New Limerick


Details | Clerihew | |

My only good poetry

While preparing 1001 soups
For the last night of this year
        I wrote a poem,
My only good poetry, ready to win the 1st Prize;
But I dropped it in…Soup.


Details | Free verse | |

Laughter is Indeed the Best Medicine On Hand

A day’s of hard work,
and serious issues to handle,
though some hiccups may arise,
in order to erase these hiccups,
we need to have some fun,
and laughter is only the best medicine,
to cure on these hiccups hands on,
for this, 
we may not travel afar,
just take a look at Indian politics,
quite laughable as it is,
wherein a number of issues,
had come to the forefront,
mostly related to the cap on cylinders,
and the FDI in retail,
wherein a number of politicians,
cast a number of political ambitions,
of becoming the National leader of our Motherland,
but have no concern for the citizens,
living in here,
wherein the bridge between the poor and the rich,
gets wider and wider,
it is not the pursuit of political ambitions, 
which the citizens want in here,
it is the solutions to various problems,
which they want,
and as such there is no politician,
as fit enough for this purpose,
are they really fit enough,
is the question and as laughable as it is,
it is time for the younger generations,
to take the plunge into politics,
wherein they need to cast over their fear,
and political apprehensions, 
and save their dear Motherland India,
from all troubles,
and to make their Motherland into a Paradise!!


Details | Rhyme | |

Something Aint Right

Awoke in the dark upon my bed
With the cat sleeping on my head,
Grabbed my socks and blew my nose
Tried to pull my hanky onto my toes.

I knew something wasn’t right
Shoulda turned on the light.
Staggered to the kitchen,
While the cat was kickin’...

Seems I put her food in the litter box,
And now she’s going into detox.
Where in the heck is the coffee pot?
Sure am trippin’ a lot.

I knew something wasn’t right.
Shoulda turned on the light.
Time for me to go to work,
Gotta get the coffee to perk.

Tastes awful weak without the grounds.
Time to go to work and make my rounds,
On no …. that’s right… I Lost my job!
Oh well, might just go for a jog.

I knew something wasn’t right. 
Shoulda turned on the light.








Details | Couplet | |

Fingerprint Failure

Applying for teacher certification
I caused one technician much consternation

My fingerprints had simply not registered
Again and again the test he administered

“Guess you could have had a career in crime,”
He retorted reapplying ink grime

He said this had never happened before
But the results he surely couldn’t ignore

He sent me to an experienced tester
Who made many cracks, joked like a jester

He claimed my blank prints were quite unique
Turned over my hands just to take a peek

The delicate lines could scarcely be seen
And the fingers themselves were awfully lean

“What work do you do?” he asked with a scowl
As he removed the ink with a towel

“I now type 82 words per minute,
Most of my life I’ve been immersed in it"

My helpless fingers were worn to the bone
And my tester let out a mournful groan

Apparently pounding on my keyboard
Had produced an undesired reward

Faint thumbprints revealed no criminal record
And I won an overachiever award

Typing is essential to the work I do
Next time they need prints, I’ll remove my shoes


** True story for the Finger Frenzy contest


Details | Narrative | |

Racial Discrimination

"Do you know such a work place
with racial discrimination?"
Asked some homo sapiens  friends
who aren't so tall but with fair complexion.

By the way, you can make a guess,
if it is in your local place.
Maybe here, maybe there,
or perhaps abroad or somewhere else.

For this is an absolute experience,
for some who migrate in other places,
When it comes to work payment,
their compensation isn't that worth and fair.

Many are also asking questions,
like those with more responsibilities and work load.
"Why those workers with less but receive more?
Is it because of their color?"

However, "Yes" is isn't the answer,
especially that black and white are paid higher.
Then, they continue to wonder,
and make other presumptions on this matter.

"Aha! The sharpness of the nose maybe 
and not either based on work load or one's ability."
So, they think their presumption will come more precisely
to the fact or to the reality?

But, they thought they need not to waste their money
to plan with the doctor for a surgery.
Because if they do and they're getting low salary,
their employer may think they came from a well-to-do family.

It's really hard for them to think
what is the real gauge and basis.
"Is it the height or color of skin?
Aha! It's the color of the hair, they concluded finally.

So, those poor homo sapiens  friends
went to beauty parlor in nearby places.
They asked the beautician for help
and colored their hair brown, red, blond and some were golden.

After all of what they did, nothing had happened
because their reward from their effort and work is still the same.
So, they just kept calm and never  ever whine again,
realizing that racial discrimination really exists.


Hence, they work harder instead
and never ever I  heard their complains.
However, one of them had mention then
that they'll get more reward if they work  for God in Heaven.


Details | Rhyme | |

Quit My Job, Smashed My Car

Quit my job, smashed my car
My back does throb, need to learn guitar

So I can make, a silly song
And I can sing, it all day long
About how, my God is strong
So that even now, nothing’s wrong

Even though, I quit my job
smashed my car, my back does throb

Life is hard, but I’ve got God
So I won’t let any thought
Any worry or fear
Convince me you’re not near

Even when, I quit my job,
Smashed my car, my back does throb
Life is hard, but I won’t sob
I need to learn guitar


Details | Rhyme | |

Big Shot

Honoured to be invited to speak at a one day workshop, I survey the audience to decide when the lecture should stop. We all agree that 10am is a good time to take a break, I commit to sticking to the schedule for everyone’s sake. As a professional lecturer, I’d flown a distance to speak, They audio and videotaped me after I gave the final critique. We broke for morning coffee, I slipped off quickly to the bathroom, After completing my task, I pulled up my pants and felt doom, Seems in my rush to relieve myself, I just completely forgot, I still had my microphones on, I guess not such a big shot! Written September 17, 2011 For Nancy Jone’s contest “Make Me Laugh”


Details | Limerick | |

Miss Priss

<                           once there was a boss we called miss priss
                             like to give orders with snap of wrist
                             file fax make coffee
                             phones radio golly
                             when not looking I blow her big hiss


Details | Limerick | |

Good IMPression

I once had a boss called Mister Reviere
Each lunchtime for ages he'd disappear
What he was found wearing
Kept everyone staring
Oh my, the padlock was stuck by his ear







Contest : Single Limerick Contest: Horrible Bosses (and more) 
Unplaced


Details | Rhyme | |

Perfect Circle Piston Rings

The Perfect Circle Plant was where most kids went to work as a general rule,
To begin a life of donkeywork upon graduation from the local school.
I dreamed of things far beyond the horizon like visitin' Rome or Istanbul,
Not a life of drudgery in the plant or plowin' corn behind a ploddin' mule!

I suppose I could've gone to work there, married and had a flock of kids,
But such a mundane life would've driven me to booze, landin' me on the skids!
They made expansion rings and such for airplanes, ships and tanks.
Not for me!  I chose the Air Force!  For that I've always given thanks!

While I enjoyed the beauty of Bermuda (where I 'fought' the Korean War),
My peers were waitin' for quittin' time, performin' their borin' chore!
I reckon they made about five bucks an hour turnin' out expansion rings.
I only made a hundred bucks a month, but it paid for my youthful flings!

I just couldn't see myself turnin' nuts and bolts and payin' union dues,
Or catchin' hell from the ol' lady for stoppin' by the pub for some brews!
While I was dinin' on steak and sippin' Tom Collins' at the Plantation House,
My pals back home were eatin' meatloaf and listenin' to their spouse's grouse!

I hasten to say that the Perfect Circle Plant provided my friends with needed work,
But operatin' a planer or lathe eight hours a day would've driven me berserk!
Should I have taken Dad's advice and hired on at the plant had I to do it over?
Nah!  I wanted to get off the farm and leave the county 'cause I'm an avid rover!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | Narrative | |

The unforgettable rant from a drunk Lady contest

It is five minutes to two
I don’t know what to do
It looks like I'm the last person this evening before you close
But can I have another, and possibly a minute to expose
You must get this often you’re really sweet
Cute as a button, to bad I don’t cheat
You see I am procrastinating to get back to my house
I live with a man; no he is not my spouse
Five long years, do you care that I share
Oh hun, watch out a flies in your hair
But seriously, it’s bad; we fight all the time
I haven’t the courage to tell him I am sick of his kind
Do you have a woman? oh you must you’re so cute
So what do you think should I give him the boot?
Oh and work is getting to me, my boss in always on my case
Sir what’s your name again? you have a mighty fine face
Can I get one more? that will be all
Good thing I live down the block in case I trip and fall
Can I give you some advice; you should finish your degree
You don’t belong here at this hour serving me
Last year I went away, when I got back I caught him cheating
I gave this guy one serious beating
Oh look it is raining
Am I complaining?
I know it’s time to move on
But it’s hard when someone is finally gone
Do you work every night?
Could you lower the lights?
I am getting a headache
Last night I went to a wake
It was my Coworkers sons, girlfriends, Aunt,
I am sorry did I just go on a rant?
What are you doing after work?
You must think I am a jerk
OH NO here come the tears!!!
Sir, it’s been so many painful years,
Why can’t I just leave him?
What is wrong with me?
can I get just one more, my glass is empty,
Wait, what are you doing?
Is that coffee I smell brewing?
Are you shutting the bar down?
I see no one is around in this town,
OH no I just dropped the glass on the ground
Boy!!! that made a really loud sound
Let me pick that up
I’ll buy you a new cup
That’s all I seem to do, clean and cook,
I deserve better right? I read it in Dr.Phil's new book,
Sir, where are you going?
Did you tell me your name?
OH I don’t feel well, can I puke in your drain?
Much better, oops sorry, I made a mess
This was a new dress,
Thanks for listening,
Did I tell you you’re cute?
I bet you make a tone of loot
My man has no job
and he wonders why I'm a bitter snob
Ok Im leaving, its late my new friend,
what did you say your name was again?
I want your number, Let me get a pen
Oh no my purse fell all over the floor
Sir Sir, did you just slam the door?

“I am not a sir, I am a Woman, and you need to Go the hell Home!!! ”

By: SNK
Contest: 
wriiten 10/21/11


Details | Than-Bauk | |

Drunkers' sentiments

Drink while alive
Leave your thrive, drink
Man's life is short

Hard work brings ache
Cold beers break stress
Pal, make your choice

Time's wing flies by
You work die-hard
We try drink well

When death arrives
When all drives cease
Whose lives well lived? 


Author: Joseph Osita
For Dr Ram's 'Than Bauk contest'


Details | Dodoitsu | |

Botanical Duet

doditsu

Nature knows that smell forbids.
Marigolds repel aphids.
Reflex magnet finds its match
in your berry patch.



Details | Lyric | |

The Unhappy Moth

She chose a red scarf. The most red 
of them all.
Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color,
just as wine.

She carved from the red scarf
from the middle
to the size of a Martini glass.

Then she carved one more glass,
and she kept carving 
till she fell asleep.

Yesterday
she saw her Beloved Moth 
flirting with a Younger Moth, 
carving together from a sweater
while she was getting busy,
carving in the shelves.

The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine
woolen wine, 
last night.
She drank lots, too much
for a Moth.
The Unhappy Moth got drunk
and fell asleep
on the red scarf,
unhidden
with a heart filled with peace.

She was not afraid no more. 
Now she could be seen easily,
laying on the scarf
and easily crushed.

The Unhappy Moth was not 
afraid of death no more,
at least, now she knew 
how wonderful the red scarfs are
and that they taste
like red wine.


Details | Light Poetry | |

A Flight to Forget

I boarded flight 911 to Tripoli
Looking forward to some time in the sun
Beaches and babes and a whole lotta fun
Oh no, Oh no was supposed to be 811 to Italy

The fellow beside me looked somewhat hagged
His suicide vest was a wee bit ragged
I begged him please, to hold the cord
Can’t you wait for a flight when my wife’s aboard?

He was looking up towards the sky
I could see there was no humor in his eye
He called me names of this I am sure
Me I heard Infidel and western whore

I asked him if he knew the date or time?
In a week or so I said all will be fine
On July 4th you can have yourself an explosive crime
Fireworks galore and then off to Allah you will shine

Me I hope this flight will land
With Akmed holding his explosive band
Around his waste, it was diffused
Cause in my wisdom I got him boozed


Details | Limerick | |

Threat Regret

“If I claimed you sexually harassed me,
Who do you think they’d actually believe?
You – the convicted felon,
Or me, with my large melons?”
“You…so I might as well take what I please!”


8/15/11

Received 4th place in "Horrible Bosses Limerick" contest


Details | Rhyme | |

Public Speaking Ritual

Public speaking fear, Relieved by a beer, Can lead to audience loss, You are filled with dread, Words at mirror said, Make you seem like you are boss. Tell a short story, Of me - no glory, Make them laugh real good and loud. Forget the content, They’ll think you’re bent, Self-comedy wins a crowd. For Nette Onclaud’s “Alouette Your Cleansing Rite (Ritual)” contest Written by Lee Ramage August 27, 2011 Placement: 8th


Details | Rhyme | |

Tin Ribs

Well good golly her name is Holly and she has a lot of front
The first time that she met me, named me granddad elephant
Called her nanny, nanny coffee pot so she would have the set
Very forward is our Holly and I hardly know her yet

I gave her a nickname as a tease, just for a jest
Tin ribs what I call her so skinny not a pest
Likes Hannah Montana, club penguin and doing make up with sis
Dancing, high school musical and sweet and sour chicken is bliss

Loves pasta, reads Jacqueline Wilson, likes pink
Shooting basketball hoops after school is a must I think
Hates doing homework can’t stand candy floss
I even bet she thinks she’s the boss

Just a little tin ribs with much time to grow
Granddad elephant is glad we met don’t you know
See you soon Holly till then just take care 
Try doing some homework it seems only fair

Eat lots of candy floss to help you fill out
Then one day maybe I’ll be able to shout
No tin ribs any more but grand daughter elephant instead 
Perhaps not though its just  a tease in my head


Details | Haiku | |

All About the Music: The Infinite Magic of Lyricism

Pop may be catchy
But not lyrically deep
Case in point: Chris Brown.


(N.B. Poem written after hearing "Don't Wake Me Up")


Details | Couplet | |

Reply Email From Subby Conscience

(Gail's note: This is the sequel to the Email to Subby Conscience poem.)

To: gadeb@zzzsmail.com
From: Subby Conscience
Re: Communication between You and Me
Date: February 14, 2012

While I sneak  and scheme in your chaotic REM
I am doing nothing more than being a friend.

Those dream-swirls and ‘mare-tugs purge your mind’s eye
so that your psyche can grow and won’t suddenly die.

While you’re gripping tightly to antique feelings that won’t budge
I’m prying them out; giving them a strong nudge.

And as you grudgingly work through a feeling or two
I am working my hardest to make you feel what is true.

I even may help you work out a solution or two
Because during the day you are too busy to.

Who else provides perks that allow you to be
both young and old in the very same dream?

So tell me dear, and answer me this.
What would you do if many nights I missed

And was sneaking around in another soul’s REM
What would your sanity be like then?

Without my help to work out thoughts
That keep you quite sane…

Would you then turn around
And try to cast blame?

Saying Subby’s absence caused you to act like a drip?
Saying Subby’s absence caused your tongue to Freudian slip?
 
Instead your mind can skyrocket and cozily soar
After I recede in the A.M. and work behind your mind’s door.


Details | Couplet | |

Life is an Aventurous Squirrel Run

I have my Hubby’s steadfast belief in me.
He loves how my poems are light and airy.
He’ll give me an idea once in a while…
Then he escapes to come back, later to read my new child.

He calls these run-throughs a squirrel run.
For they can take off in directions, yes, any one.
Crazy thoughts become crazier still…
And story time leads to god knows, where they will.

My thinking is kind of like chasing around a tree.
You never know where the end will be.
But somewhere I eventually become truly still.
And that is where my Hubby adds into the trill.

Then the squirrel run begins again…
Light and fluffy and full to the brim.
Each day a new adventure... waits around the bend.
Live it. Love it. Write it... You'll be happier in the end.

Contest: Emotion: Squirrelly and fun   CSEastman


Details | Limerick | |

Twelve Seconds

<                    Once was a bartender named Louie
                      Thought my tales story was quite screwy                                     
                      Asked how many seconds
                      Was in year he reckons
                      Twelve shouted out by cousin dewey







Entry For
Confession To A Bartender


                                  


Details | Free verse | |

JSA BLUES

Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. Countless jobs for the unemployed. Just search and see. It must be true the papers say. This Government would not lie. Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. Take any job you can get. Work 80 hours a week. It's for your well being, the papers say. This Government would not lie. Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. Take minimum wage if you must. That is all you are worth. You will thank us some day the papers say. This Government would not lie. Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. I have the JSA blues This Government would not lie. The JSA blues. Government would not lie. JSA Blues. Would not lie. JSA blues. Not lie. JSA blues. LIE!


Details | Limerick | |

The She-Demon

Our boss locked her office door every day

The She-Demon locked it so she could play

     Her boyfriend hid in there too

     The only sound heard was "oooh"

Making love to her own boss - she earned pay



Written for the Horrible Bosses (and others) contest


Details | Free verse | |

De Javu -High School

First week on a new job
De Javu, It's High School again

Employees talking about their twenties years celebrations 
Getting wasted and drinking
It's a dud of a conversation 
When I tell them I don't drink 

Then I begin listening
I'm sitting in a booth filling out a form
You guys are at the bar
Talking about another co-workers relationship storm

Oh man Oh man, 
I'm keeping work and personal separate
I really don't care how much they think I'm desperate
I'm sure they'll say I'm stuck up, 
Or tease over a few drinks I'll spill when tripping over a bump
But these guys at the end of the day
To my face, they'll have nothing to say  


Details | Rhyme | |

The Working Week NR

Here we go round the working week
The working week
The working week
Here we go round the working week
Every boring weekday

We gossip around the water cooler
The water cooler
The water cooler
We boss he can see the staff they flee
Every boring weekday

See how we forward our funny email
Our funny email
Our funny email
The boss is here your screen is clear
Every boring weekday

Texting during a staff meeting
A staff meeting
A staff meeting
The boss is aware your phone is no where
Every boring weekday


Details | Limerick | |

My Pole Dancer

This Pole Dancer she was with me
All other men must pay her fee
Still I must confess
My family’s stress
But Polish dance lessons aren’t free


Details | Free verse | |

ANNUAL WAGE NEGOTIATIONS

“The two sides sit
around the square table;
like the cheeks of one’s buttocks
together only, till the 
crap starts to appear!”

Copyright 1997
Harry J Horsman 1997




Details | Rhyme | |

Who's the Boss

You know you're my Boss
You make me work study
Wisdom to me toss
Now Lead Me Already

You give me more work
That's not what I ask
You made my mind jerk
With impossible task

Is leadership about 
Not hearing me out?


Details | I do not know? | |

Lieutenant Uhura

I met up with Lieutenant Uhura
in a small cake shop in Truro. 
She was the Starship’s communications officer
and she played havoc with my blood pressure.

We ordered some cake and some clotted cream
Drank Romulan scrumpy and methylene
“Kirk to Uhura!” I heard the captain say
“Report to the bridge right away.”

“The reception desk is empty the temp has gone away”
“There’s no one to answer the phone today.”
Then she looked deep into my dark blue eyes and said

“I take one bloody day's holiday and look what happens”

Soon she was back on board with her crew
"Good afternoon, Starship enterprise, how can I help you”


Details | Sonnet | |

Jobs: No Pleasure in the Measure

"Too young!", were the words, that everyone said While working our way to get a degree. First time on our own, and now, newlyweds Plus, looking for jobs, yet happy were we! In a brand new town, now, a brand new wife! Pinching our pennies, and dollars much more Hitting the sidewalk, .a busy new life. Finally, a job found, at Rolf's Clothing Store! Old geezers, would ask me "Would you help me, dear?" Keeping composure, ..(must not crack a grin!) "A suit, ...some undies: What size should I wear??" My tape-measure panics,..(where to begin?!!) Measuring inseams from crotch to the hem! Is not a task, I'll be wanting again !!!!
____________________________________________________ 11/12//14 For Sara's Contest: JOBS


Details | Verse | |

THE IRISH GARDEN

THE   IRISH GARDEN

Created  by  God but designed by me  -  my garden       (13  syll )
It was intended as Helen’s  playground           (Name of smb   loved)
She wanted space big enough but not  expansive     (rhyme)
And play equipment dear enough but not expensive      (rhyme)
“And  no   dogs  ! ”                                                   (3 words)
she said.     ( Indeed,    ‘n’    I    agreed  )             (palindrome)
And so we set to work  making the Irish  garden           (title)
The work was extensive as well as intensive              (rhyme)
She wanted songbirds, saying,  ”a bird in hand is worth two in the bush”  (quote)
And in Ireland  the birdsong is beautiful                      (country)
I felt she’d  long  to belong among  song but I was wrong    (5 words rhyme)
I  found her a blackbird                                               (6  syll  )
Which sang  “Bye Bye  Blackbird “                           (song title)
So  I responded   “Goodbye, farewell,  adieu”               (synon)
Then it was  gone, disappeared, absent,   vanished    (4 words  the same)
So  now,   where   to   get  music   for her?               (no   A / D / L)
Her happy eyes shone with anticipation of singing birds    (happy eyes)
But I was out of ideas, running on empty                   (run/on/emp)
A mechanical  model  bird?. . . yes, of such things had I heard  (rhymes with 6 syll)
Such cultural perfection sublime  !                                     (poem line)


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .
Written by  Sydney Peck
Entered in Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver's Contest   Mish-Mash


Details | Ballad | |

THE CURING OF YOUNG FRED McPHEE

On the outer Paroo where most septics are few 
And the outhouse has still pride of place; 
Poor old Toby McPhee worked a small property 
With his son and his darling wife Grace. 
 
When the milking was due and the harvesting too, 
His son Fred seemed to just disappear. 
Though they looked everywhere this bewildered old pair 
Found no trace of their poor little dear. 
 
I've the paddock to plough and I need the boy now 
As the horses are harnessed and ready. 
Then he saw the smoke rise and to Toby's surprise; 
'Twas the outhouse that hid his young Freddy. 
 
"So the silly young bloke seems to fancy a smoke. 
Well I've just the right cure then for him." 
As he led the horse team Toby's eyes gave a gleam 
And the lazy lad’s future looked dim. 
 
He then hooked the team to the log skids on the loo, 
While the slack was worked out of the chain. 
With the reins in his hand he then gave the command 
And both horses then took up the strain. 
 
Poor young Fred he was perched on the seat when it lurched, 
Though soon ended up down on the floor. 
With Fred's pants 'round his knees Toby heard his wild pleas, 
But he goaded his horses some more. 
 
The lad's fag hit the pan and a fire soon began 
With the paper and sawdust alight. 
Then the skids hit a hollow and what was to follow 
Was one hell of a horrible sight. That pan flew in the air and though Fred crouched in 
prayer 
All the angels they must have been out. 
For the team in a trot had sent airborne the lot 
And the contents were scattered about. 
 
Toby's lungs out of air he then reined in the pair 
And the curing had come to a close. 
Fred emerged from the door looking terribly sore, 
While the pong was quite strong on the nose. 
 
When there's work now to do on the outer Paroo 
Our young Fred McPhee's work is  hectic. 
For he saves all his dough, but it's not for smokes though, 
As their place is now going septic. 



Details | Limerick | |

Shaky Heights

A foreman for the city does reap
Lots of overtime and city heap
The streets covered with snow
My heap’s heater says “no”
I just long for that thing they call sleep 


I spent the last 16 years of 30 as a city foreman


Randy Steele
Horrible Boss (and more) contest


Details | Quatrain | |

From Crop to Chop

I wish I could go from crop to chop
I really wish I could
Chop a bit here and a lot there
Then I would feel good.
 
I wish I could chop away
All the unsightly bumps
I’d shape and carve as I like
To have curves instead of lumps.
 
I’d work so hard on my arms
To make them jiggle free
And then I’d work on my rump
So that it’s a sight to see!
 
I’d most surely work on my hips
So they would be stream lined
I’d also work on my waist
No extra flab you’d find
 
I’d work on my tummy round
That looks and feels like dough
I’d roll it till it was quite thin
And then I’d would let it show!
 
 I’d be cruel with my knife
No bit of fat would I spare
I’d chop and chop till I drop
To make them all stop and stare!
 
But since I can’t, I will still crop
My photos are just face and chest
You all must try to understand
Of my features these are best!
 
All you’ll see are parts of me
I’ll hide my unsightly bumps
Cause I’m no Fergie, can’t you see
My lumps are only....lumps!


Details | I do not know? | |

EVERY MORNING

Every morning I got to work early so I can see surely. When I get there she is not there 
so I set and wait but surely is late. When she got there she said to me may I help you. 
YES I just wanted to ask you on a date does that sound great. No I will not take you on 
a date. I set and wait for you and you come in late and then turn me down for a date. 
Just wait you will be begging for that date. Now every morning I go to work late so I 
can see Kate she is great we just started to date. Today surely came over to talk to me 
may I help you. I just want to ask you on that date you had your chance now it is too 
late. I am now with Kate she is really great I think she will be my soul mate.


Details | Rhyme | |

Death Came A Knocking While I Was Out

Death came a knocking while I was out
He did not have time for me to be about
Up at five before the sun
Picking up what I left undone
Coffee black cup after cup
Trying to get my body woke up
Do a load of laundry and fry some eggs
Do a load of dishes wake up the kids
Feed them, cloth them solve every crisis extra soon
Off to the school bus jumping over the moon
Let the dog out, put the cat in
Finish to start, end to begin
Wash my face, comb my hair
Put on anything that is near
Rushing out, racing the car
Just an errand here, on time so far
Dry cleaning, day care, drug store
No time for just one more
Clock in at work meeting at nine
Forget lunch who has the time
In basket full, out basket bare
Check an e-mail if you dare
Finally work is done
You clock out on the run
Get bread and milk and sneak a candy bar
The kids are home and they need the car
Soccer, baseball, dancing and the flute
All these activities cost me loot
Hardly time to eat dinner at eight
Home work, baths than a minute to escape
The cat gets out the dog wants in
You're looking in the cupboard for that bottle of gin
Finally a moment of peace
Everybody exhausted and asleep
You forgot Junior's cupcakes off to Wal-Mart
Better gas up saving time to be smart
On the way home a ring on the cell phone
Quick trip to the airport I moan
Spouse trip cancel needs ride
It is okay you will survive
Finally in the drive way and who do you see
Shaking his head as he leaves
Death walking by, he finally gave up
He murmured about a schedule and life's a nut
So as I lay down to rest
My love's hand upon my chest
I hear the crying of a child
The boogie man awoken him in dreams wild
I sometimes wonder if it would bother me
If Death would come back and fetch me
But the note he left upon my door
My soul is mine till I'm ninety-four
He did not have time for me to be about
Death came a knocking while I was out


Details | Ballade | |

A Ballade of Beseeching

As I was washing the dishes last week
I looked outside my windowpane.
Snow-filled land and winter bleak,
I see a moose—how inane!
Thinking I must be going insane, 
Or perhaps something of a retard,
I asked many but the answer was the same
Please get the moose out of my yard

One day within that crazy week
My husband was working in the plains
He went to a bush to take a leak
And there, staring, it was again!
He ran through the village through gasps of fright he just couldn’t retain
Now my hubbie is a lunatic, paranoid and scarred
With no fortune to his name!
Please get the moose out of my yard

Living here with seven babes on a meadow leek
Trying to keep sane
All the neighbors think me a freak
As I try to reassure and explain
And STILL the blasted animal remains
Keeping me absorbedly on-guard
He even trampled my great dane into grain!
Please get the moose out of my yard 

Dear Prince, soon King so to speak
I beseech you with utmost regard
If it so pleases I will throw you a daughter for queen
Just please—PLEASE get the moose out of my yard!


Details | Rhyme | |

THERE'S NO ESCAPE FROM CERTAIN THINGS

Checking the lights on the dashboard when they flash and stay red:
it's the oil that needs to be changed or the engine that requires
maintenance, and in frigid temperatures who would venture outside and get frostbites?
A car is a necessity, a commodity and besides daily pleasure, it may cost a lot indeed.



Running to the grocery store through the backdoor when milk is low,
and guests wait for a fresh coffee pot and you put on a face not so mellow,
and much worse when you forget the roast in the oven...the bird you admire, 
and smoke fills your kitchen...you just dial 911 and scream, " My house in on fire! "


But the worst one that can send you into havoc...
when the mean kid down the block throws a rock
and your window shatters and the cat flees with the swiftest animal beat,
but the dog gets vicious and runs after him by exposing his sharp teeth. 



Ever forgot to send your mom a Christmas or Easter card?
She'll call you the same day knowing that the Post office won't deliver,
and what her voice will sound like? Soft or harsh, or angry as a bard? 
I can imagine the words she will say, " Have you forgotten something, dear? "



These are just few of them that can drive you crazy like wild kids who love to fight
and make you head spin and ache until you sit down and take a break by a lamplight,  
" Ouch!" You got burned from the splashing water while draining your steamy pasta...
you complain,"It's overcooked and not al dente!" And like mother you exclaim,"Basta!"



* The word "Basta" in Italian means " It's enough "


Details | Rhyme | |

My Last Nerve

O why O why do you make me mad
take away my help that's all I had
you are not going make me sad
That was my last nerve, That was my last nerve 


There is only so much that I can do
I am only one person and that is true
this is who I am and I'm not you
That was my last nerve, That was my last nerve 

While I don't mind doing what needs to be done
just give me a break to relax and have fun
I'm going to take my time and not being to run
That was my last nerve, That was my last nerve 

You were given many chances to correct your mistake
this is my own choice that I did have to make
all that I needed was a little bit of a break
That was my last nerve, That was my last nerve 

What you are doing to me you know is insane 
so if I decide to leave I don’t want to hear you complain
I never was given any help and that's why 
it is time for me to say goodbye
That was my last nerve, That was my last nerve 
That was my last nerve, That was my last nerve


Details | Rhyme | |

Farming as a terrorist act

Going on down to the demos today
the last farmer has been put away.
They shot him down
just outside of town.
Police found him in his own cornfield,
where he resisted and  refused to yield.
Since his were crimes against the state,
then death obviously was to be his fate.

Going on down to the demos today
the last farmer has been put away.
He refused to buy corn from the corporation,
produced his own seeds for his liberation.
He refused to buy genetic sprays
to eliminate the bugs and the butterflys.
By his wanton self pollination
he threatened the food supply of our nation.
We're going on down to the demos today
to give thanks to those who put terrorists away.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Bow Leg-ged Girl

      THE BOW LEG-GED GIRL
I took all of your tank tops and your hose and your sox,
and I put them all together in a little brown box.
I put all of your dresses and your shoes in a sack,
and I wrapped it up because I knew you're never coming back.

I took your funky records and your Gaygirl Magazines
and dropped them in the trash with all your green and purple jeans.
I took the clothes I bundled up and gave them away,
to the Salvation Army, it seems like yesterday.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I met a wino on the street, she looks just like you,
she wears a see through blouse and she walks bow legged, too.
She sings those funky songs and plays the guitar outa sight,
and she takes a bath in cheap perfume like you did every night.

She sings about Viet Nam and love we don't show,
No one's told her Viet Nam was fifty years ago.
She's out protesting every day and carries a big sign,
and bites her toenails every night just like you did mine.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

She has a job but all she'll say, it ain't chopping wood.
And it's funny how her money lasts, and she lives so good.
She bought a brand new car one day, a pink Cadillac,
and it's got a bar up in front and mattress in the back.

I don't know why she thinks she has to work every day,
cause I never had a job I just live on my welfare pay.
She picks her nose and rolls each bugger in a sugar ball,
and just like you used to do, then she eats them all.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I married her in the park, it seems like yesterday,
and I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't run away.
She brought her uncle home with her from work the other night,
and her uncle and my cousin all got drunk and had a fight.

She got locked in the bedroom with the meter readers dad,
and they had a lot of fun all night, but I felt awful bad.
He took her home with him a while, but she wouldn't stay,
I wish you'd come back home to me, and run her away.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Light Poetry | |

Sisyphus

Each day I spend a little time with my friend Sisyphus in the morning,
He tries his best to give me advice or at least to offer up a warning.

He can tell by the way I work that sometimes I spin my wheels,
Trying hard to get somewhere and he knows exactly how it feels.

The harder you push to get something done the bigger the task becomes,
Until it’s nearly impossible to get it right and you feel like you’re all thumbs.

He tells me just to do my best and to keep my nose pressed to the stone,
And try to remember that there’re others in the race and I am not alone.

Then he wishes me well and tells me he has an uphill battle to fight,
And as long as he isn’t flattened by the rock he thinks he’ll be alright.

Sometimes I listen to him and to the things that he has to say,
But other times I stop to think that there must be a better way.

Because if all there is to living is to go to work and each day grow a little older,
Then you’ve missed the point and you’ve already been flattened by the boulder.

So I look for things that bring me joy and add them to my day,
And eventually those little bits of color block out the shades of gray.


Details | Tail-rhyme | |

Unsupervised

The bosses are not here today.
Do I have to work for my pay?
Ceiling tiles need counting.
They are in Florida for 'business.'
I've a week to clean up this mess.
We work hard, partying.


Details | Free verse | |

Rebellious

                                        What???...

To get someone to read my poems… Contests there must be.
They must be bleeping nuts thinking I can follow all those cockeyed rules.
Out of a zillion types of poems they always pick the weirdest ones.
Allowed only 16 lines… I found I stopped at ninety-one.
And for a topic they want a bird throwing glitter from a tree.
How about I spank them as I put them across my knee!!!
And why must I name it… as they told me? Where’s that for creativity?
Then they want a special comment added in the poem…
I would rather not add plagiarism… I’d rather call it my own.
But, you know, I am so very needy that I’ll do whatever they want.
Well… I’ll do, maybe one or two… of the things they want.
I know this makes it harder to judge the poems that are found therein.
But to me a poem… is a funny bent on my crazy whim.
Then suddenly, Lord Have Mercy… my poem didn’t win.
But I’m happy as punch for even with their strained smile…
I’m sure they read one of my poems yet again. :)

(Meant only for fun) I'm not really complaining. Just having fun.


Details | Couplet | |

The best job

Your own successful biz,
that's what your best job is!

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


Details | Rhyme | |

The Railway Crossing

The Van-Boy got out to open the gate still in his head last night’s date
He did not notice the green signal light a train was coming though not in sight
This crossing was notorious and set at an angle getting some drivers in a tangle
But this was not on the van-boys mind when the driver he waved to come behind
The lorry driver thinking it was safe engaged first gear and let off the brake
Up the incline he had come no chance to go back now the journey begun
A careful driver all his life he knew that this dangerous crossing had taken a few
He looked down the line and to his dismay saw the Train coming quickly his way
Nothing to do now must hit the gas and take the consequences be it his last
The lorry sped over the lines so quick the bottles and crates rattling and the driver 
sick
But luck would be upon his side and the lord above was to be his guide
With the memento of the weight no time to straighten through the gate
The lorries breaks were not enough to stop this speeding it was tough
The poor old fence post standing for years if it could cry it would be in tears
Out from the ground with a tearing sound the lorries front bumper tore it round 
Well when the driver drew his breath and realized how close he came to death
What would have happened to his family if the worst had happened where would 
they be
I hope that Van-boy will never forget his stupid mistake nearly caused an accident
But I am sure he can remember too the words the driver shouted as the air 
turned Blue
Train Crossings are lethal so take your time and wait for the proper signal  to 
cross the line


Details | Light Poetry | |

An old man's crumble

An old man's crumble.... I am an old man and no matter I say or do. But still I am living with my stubbornness heart I have complications with health history and hospitals always welcome me Sometime, my heart beats so hard and my veins are twisting me mad But still I manage to do my work on my own My walking stick is great support for me If not, I would not able to stand on the road Sleep brings me nightmares with forecast scenarios but when I wake up in the morning I feel nothing but freezing body and feet My memory is failing and my soul is falling My head is turning and my life is shortening How do I spent my youthful life all these days? Well, nothing much to tell about it because I am not married either. I really love to recollect my good old days but my memory of tears kept them away Youth become major and old become gold. So they say But sometimes I wonder where do I find my way around Before I go to bed, I keep my ears in the drawer, my teeth in a glass of water and my both eyes on the side table When my sleep overtakes me, I don't hear anything, my teeth don't feel cold and I don't see anything either I get up each morning and reset my bones from my sleepy body Later I pick up the news paper to read world news and sad news these days If my name is missing in the obituary column, thanks God I am not dead So I continue to do my work as usual till the day ends. Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka Copyright @Sept,2010 Ravi Sathasivam


Details | Free verse | |

whiteness

white t-shirt hanging on the line
pair of work scrubs thrown in the laundry
two socks matched perfectly in the drawer
white tennis shoes by the door
white eye shadow placed upon white skin
grabbing my white purse
heading out to my white car
driving to work in between the white lines


Details | I do not know? | |

You THINK?

You think you might be in love.

You think he/her might be in love with you.

You think about a lot of things. Do you really know those things?

You think a lot, you worry a lot. 

But do you really HAVE to think or worry about those things?
  Or do you WAN'T to think or worry about those things?

Now that there is something to think about.

 
   

              *please leave a comment if you like it or fav poem if you might*
                                           
                                         -Angel4eva23


Details | Didactic | |

The Blarney Stone

a didactic poem

When eloquence leaves you a’wanting,
if verbal effluence you’re flaunting,
should your audience appear daunting,
kiss the Blarney Stone.

     I climbed the circular tower,
     reached the hundred ninety-third step, 
     and waded through unhurried queue.

     I trembled with anxiety, 
     gasped for ev’ry uncertain breath,
     and paused to view but then I knew.

     Hidden underneath the rampart
     this infamous bluestone will rest
     I shan’t pursue my lips on blue.

When commonsense says,  “No way”,
if plain prudence seeks delay,
should consequence have its say,
pass the Blarney stone.


6


Details | I do not know? | |

Work, Leave, Stay

They think they have you trapped 
working working working

You can do it all of that
working working working

We know you are great at what you do
working working working

But this is what I have to say to you
working working working

I need to get away from this place
leaving leaving leaving 

I really need a break from the time that was a waste
leaving leaving leaving 

If some help could be given that's all I would demand
staying staying staying

Yes, only a little help just wait for my command 
Staying Staying Staying


Details | Ballad | |

old harold and the moon's echo

4am sunday morning they broke into song
unable to contain their smiles
they cast aside the spent wine
and took their ribald song to the streets
with a fanfare of sound and light
like jesters of old
they painted smiles on the frowning old men
and placed rainbows over the bridges between
the carpets of the mighty and the halls of fable

by 5am they had made it all
the way in to the center of town
where a roadblock of uniforms thought to make sense
out of tealeaves and mint cookies
as the jesters just dance around their confusions
between their orders and
what the truth of the heart tells em is the song
and then we see the ugly show a pretty eye to the cause
as it marches in through the double dawn
one dawn for the sun
the other for the hearts of the lonely
and a secret one for me and her
in our lounge chairs by the top of the spike hill
kissing our sweet hearts to eachother

by 10am all but the most die-hard had fallen to dreaming sweetly
neath the juniper trees
while thouse few who clung to awakened hearts
sang softly and sweetly
of summer nights and fresh loves
unearthed from the ashes of the desperate pasts
all things made anew from all the things made old

by sunday evening
we had all danced all the dances
and kissed all the kisses till even the heat of passion couldn't fade
held eachothers hands
and smiled sweetly like memory's saying fare thee well till morrow
i would be crazy if it weren't for your hand in mine
here in the tropical sundown

sunday night so deep
and the only one left dancing is old harold
he's doing the charleston with the moon's echo on the waves of the sea
don't think he's ever been so happy
and as i drift off to sleep
with her in my arms
i know that i don't need to explain to anyone
that we are all jesters looking for a
song to dance to at 4am in the tropics


Details | Rhyme | |

Thanks Banks

Thanks Banks,
For being there,
When I’ve got an hour to spare,
To stay on hold without a care,
Thanks Banks!

Thanks Banks,
I’d like to know,
Why you’d let my new card go,
To a place I moved from years ago,
Thanks Banks!

Thanks Banks,
You cut me off,
Your service skills just make me scoff,
Forgive me if my cap won’t doff,
Thanks Banks!


Details | Rhyme | |

If My Pens Could Speak

They would tell you tales
Of how they worked all day
Spitting out details
With no time to play

They've felt so much anger
And way too much pain
The night is no stranger
The night has felt much vain

They've worked with no vitality
They've worked without pay
This is their normality
To work all through the day

They see the morning light
But work isn't quite done
They put up a fight 
But still have fun

They may have a complaint
Of how I don't follow labor laws
They don't think I'm a saint
But if only they could speak

*Written on March 28, 2012


Details | Light Poetry | |

Dads

Mothers seem to get all the press
Dads seem to be forgotten
I know some of them are not much good
But I still think that’s a bit rotten.

Mothers can be bad as well
It won’t come as a surprise,
But remember if it wasn’t for your dad,
You wouldn’t be here to criticise.

Dads are good and they work hard
The money to bring in
Some bring up the children nowadays
As mums go to work and pitch in.

My dad is gone a long time now
 I still miss his advice on living
He was a pain sometimes as well
But I can still forgive him.

He would love the new technology
The mobile phones and laptops
His Sinclair computer was magical then
He’s never heard of I pods.

Children rule the world today
And I really don’t think that’s good.
Look at all the mess they make
And I really don’t think they should.

 A child today cannot be wrong
“Its parents faults” it’s that old song.
“It’s the way you bought them up
You shouldn’t be in that neighbourhood.”

But the child that rules this country place,
Could do with a good slap in the face.
His name gives clue it's Cameron
Because it rhymes with A moron.

Dads are great, and equal, they just don’t wear the dress
Let’s give all the dad’s out there, a much better press.
Dads should have equality in these new modern times
But we girls know what dads really want
We can read between the lines!!



Details | Couplet | |

Taking Out The Trash

___ I would be so kind to open the door if, by chance...this garbage could soar... ___ _________________________________ Contest ~ Couplet Challenge


Details | Rhyme | |

For The Love Of Life

For the love of life we reach unreasonable heights
We eat everything on the way like termites
We please others and act as slaves to get our way
And after accomplishing what we want they are put at bay

We try to slow our watches as much as we can
And we try reaching our goal with or without a plan
We go on a race with other competitors
And push them from our track for our sons

What a continuous race life is 
And there are 100 times more the legs than brains

Whatever time it may be whatever level 
Everyone can be compared to the evilness of devil
We all wish we are the only one running and alive
What all we can do for the love of life

We all want our dreams and wishes to come true
If it’s not granted you might kill God too
You want to conquer the world by day-dreaming
And treat everyone like animals for your well-being

With everyone you are a diplomat
Aftermath- you are in the rat race a cat
You are mad and lazy; idiot and idly lazy
But then you also want the world in your hands as if it’s a frenzy

Your friends are just a helping hand for your great opportunities
They are just one of the small but one of the useful things in your kitty
We blame others, we slay others for who?
For ourselves and not for any other for sure

Who understands the meaning of how life goes
Who knows how to live life in its literal sense
Who can change the way life moves on...
This is the way life goes on....


Details | Free verse | |

To Whom It May Concern

Some say there's nothing poetic about blue-collar work.
I'm here to prove them wrong.

What is a poem?
For one, it has rhythm.
"Well, where's the rhythm
in a discordant jumble of a thousand tools
all clamoring for dominance over my ears?"
It's smack-dab in the middle -
where you hear clanging and banging,
I hear the smooth, even strokes
of a well-swung hammer.
Where you hear chopping and whirring,
I hear the harmony
of a saw producing a masterpiece.

What else constitutes poetic achievement?
Diction and language.
"Well, sure, there's all kinds of
colorful language among those types - 
not the kind of language I meant!"
To that, I say, read my musings,
hear my words and see
if you can say without lie
that there's no fine vocabulary present.
A coarse man in the company of other similar types,
one may come home
and show his refined and eloquent side.

What is a poem?
One more thing it has is sometimes rhyme.
"What, now you're going
to come right out and say
that you all speak in rhyme?
You must be joking."
To which I reply,
look me in the eye,
and see if you detect any jest;
For those of us down, in the mud and the dirt,
may look the sort to be simple and curt;
But we can sure rhyme with the best.

What do the poetic greats have?
A mastery of their form.
"Well, here, in this final point
has got to be my clincher;
There's no way you guys
are spitting out haiku and so on."
To this I say that here
lies the winning facet of my argument, not yours -
for you need look no further than the piece before you;
Two lines to start, four groups of a dozen,
and two at the end -
I dare say that that is indeed some kind of form.

One more job done, another task complete -
this humble poem of frustration and explanation.


Details | Couplet | |

The Blessing for My Book

As my job and health failed me... I dreamed to someday put together a 
book of poetry and this will be the blessing it will begin with...

As I sit here weaving my poetry
Into the semblance of a book…
I find that I must ask Gods’ blessing…
For the journey, that together we have took.

I find I must bow my head in thought…
Over this book that together we have wrought
As my hands clasp oh so reverently and earnestly over my heart…
As I believe his help brought the words together that I sought.

And God set the journey that shaped what now before you begins…
He helped me find the words that reached through my heart to my pen.
I pray the poems will be worthy of what he showed me as my life’s art.
And upon this book I honestly pray that his blessing he will impart. 






Details | ABC | |

I Stole a Portalette

I work hard at work and then at home
In the bathroom is the only place I am King of the throne
There is such a thing as a honey do list
And at work so much to do, no time for bliss
I did something that I know I will never regret
I went and stole a portalette
It fits perfect in the corner of my back yard
I notice the neighbors outside working real hard
We negotiate an admission fee for them to use it
I put up a sign that reads Enjoy it,  but don't abuse it
I hire the Chicanos around the corner to add some graffiti
I took advantage of Zero percent financing  from Sears to install some central air 
and heating
Next summer I will expand it and add another wall
This will be where I will have a spa
I just put in cable tv to provide entertainment
Now my friends want to steal their own portalette
I told them construction sites are probably an ideal place to get one
I tell them to check and see how full it is,  because spilling it ain't no fun
If it is full,  complain to the Site Foreman so he will get it emptied, thus, making it 
easier for you  to handle
Be careful of the methane gas, use a flashlight, not a candle
Odo Ban works better than Febreeze
Try to place it under some shade trees
It will keep the temperature inside moderate
Take pride in your newly acquired  portalette
If you treat it right, it will provide you with this one thing
It may not happen in your own home, but in your portalette you can always be King
But now you get into the issue of His or Hers
Another visit to the construction site may have to occur




Details | Rhyme | |

It's An Owl

Remember the nights we drove home in the dark
Kitchen fitting all day really wasn’t a lark
As we drove home we would see many a fowl
And you always shouted I think it’s an owl

A pigeon a crow a pheasant or a bat
Was always an owl and that was just that
It became a joke we used to stay awake
It also helped the boredom to break

Every journey home no matter how late
You always saw six thousand owls old mate
It was never discussed what type they were
It was just an owl even if it had fur

They were great days the two of us on the road
Working together and sharing the load
Having a laugh, the long drive a howl
Every half mile when you spotted an owl 


Details | Rhyme | |

Why Won't You Work For ME

Why don’t you like to work for me?
I’m kind and gentle, not harsh or mean.
I need your help so I can stay clean.
But you won’t work for me!

I’ve seen it before, you work for others.
It’s not too much like cleaning gutters.
The task isn’t hard
I’m not catching you off guard.

STILL NOTHING?
You gotta be joking.

I’m waving my hand all over, right in front of your sensor.
Why wont you work u stupid automatic soap dispenser!


Details | Rhyme | |

Day Off

It's my day off
And I need to rest
So for the work week
I'll be at my best.

There's chores to do, 
Well of course there are.
If I don't start soon
I won't get far.

Laundry and dishes
And wash the floors,
Clean the bathroom,
The most hated of chores.

Clean the birdcages.
They're messy but sweet
And no one would call
My desktop neat.

The dust on the bookcases
Is about an inch thick
So a dust cloth or garden hose,
Just take your pick.

The plants are drooping,
They're thirsty as well.
All week I've let 
This place go to hell.

No time for T.V.
No time to write.
If I don't start now
I'll be cleaning all night.

It's my day off.
Off from what ?  I say.
I work hard at my job
But I'll work harder today.


Details | Couplet | |

A Couplet

You told me the proletariat's movement was eternal 
But I saw you reading the Wall Street Journal


Details | Couplet | |

AVOIDING A MESSY GORE

Washing coffee-stained cups, greasy frying pans and big pots is a very simple chore;
leaving a pile when turning the faucet on may clog the sink and cause a messy gore!


Details | Rhyme | |

Too Sick To Go To Work

Too Sick to Come to Work

By Elton Camp

Yesterday, Joe work up with the flu
To stay home from work he must do

“How they will get by, I don’t know
However, I am just a lot too sick to go.”

Joe thought about the office with dismay
How, without him, it must be in disarray

Phone rang, he thought, urging his return
Although he did with a high fever burn

“It’s your supervisor,” his wife did say
And they have had a most marvelous day.”

“He wants you to take off a week or two
Because so much more work they can do.”

Always at work is the best way, no doubt
Don’t show how easy you are to do without


Details | Rhyme | |

Quittin' Time

Seemed like eons to Pa since he began another daily grind.
The more he tried to stay ahead, the further he got behind!
The boss harassed him all day long - nothin' at all went right.
"Lord, have mercy!" he prayed.  "Relieve me of my miserable plight!"

First, he botched a simple job on his drillin' and planin' machine,
Causin' him chagrin and agitatin' the boss, who made a scene!
This blunder brought work on the line to a three hour cessation,
Causin' the boys in the front office very little jubilation!

Pa ate his balogna sandwich alone avoidin' the hostile bunch,
Thinkin' ill of Ma who forgot to pack a Twinkie for his lunch!
He mused, "Help me through this day without gettin' fired, Lord!
Only twenty years 'til retirement - an axin' I just can't afford!"

He gave his all that afternoon, aware he'd blemished his career,
Heedin' details and avoidin' the boss whenever he came near!
He waited for the shift to end, the siren to sound quittin' time,
And gettin' home to his lovin' clan and much needed peace sublime!

Quittin' time finally came and he joined the fleein' herd.
Met by his adorin' brood, they asked him what that day occured.
He hugged and kissed each one, answerin' with a puckish smile,
"Oh, nothin' much, 'cept the plant was idled for quite a while!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | Rhyme | |

Tina and Miss Myrtle

Nurse Tina went to work one day, feeling pretty good.
Things usually didn’t work out, just as she thought they should.
Today she said would be different; I feel it in my bones.
She smiled at everyone she met, despite her college’s groans.
She floated in and out of rooms, gave lots of special care.
Her patients were all smiling, as if happy being there.

It was shortly after lunch time when Myrtle rang the nurse.
Tina came into the room, where the lady held her purse.
Where are you going Miss Myrtle? Asked Tina soft and sweet,
Then sat her down upon the bed as she tried standing on her feet.
Nurse Tina dear, I sadly fear that I must use the Lu,
And time is running out my love, now you have things to do.

Hold it, hold it, was all the nurse could say,
Then ran to find the wheelchair they’d used earlier that day.
Now Myrtles face was turning blue,
Waiting for that mobile Lu.
Not yet! Not yet! Exclaims Tina in her face,
I have to slip the bedpan safely in its place.

Ahhhhh, Myrtle she was happy now, her look was just sublime,
As she jumped into the wheelchair, I swear in record time.
STOP RIGHT NOW, STOP RIGHT NOW called Tina with a shout,
For in Myrtles rush to sit down, the pan went flying out.
Ohhhh the nurses day was shattered now, from the lady and the Lu,
But Miss Myrtles smile was that of bliss, As she finished going poo.

Brenda Meier-Hans
08.01.2014
5th


Details | Free verse | |

Housework apathy

Housework what a chore
I refuse to do it any more 
My poor hands have blisters 
And my hands are sore
Oh my what a bore.

The more you do
The more you find
It's such hard work
And I don't have the time.

Some peoples houses are like a show room
Mine A sty
Think I was born without the tidy gene
I'm just a man who doesn't clean.

Antique pizza found under the coach
But how I wish I had a tidy house
Piles of books everywhere
If anyone came they couldn't find a chair.

I tried housework some years ago
But what I let myself in for I didn't know
I bought every cleaning substance known to man
I stood proud with a mop and bucket in my hands
You used to be able to look out of the windows and see the trees
I cleaned and scrubbed on my knees
I threw loads of stuff away. It seemed I was cleaning night and day.

Oh how I hate throwing things away
I keep everything thinking
It will come in handy one day
But it never does.

Oh won't someone come and clean for me
I can't help it I'm such a busy bee.

A man's work is never done
Not because we do any
Because it's far from fun
No we just think about it
And think some more
Oh why is housework such a chore.



''Not a true story, but I avoid it as much as poss''.

Peter Dome.copyright.2014. July.
And now I'm sat here tired frustrated
In my apron and rubber gloves


Details | Verse | |

Working at the Call Centre: Conversations

"Good morning and welcome to Personal Savings…”
Here we go, it begins – the rantings and ravings…
“At last!,” screamed the lady, “what’s taking so long?
To pick up your phone – I can’t stand that song!
Your service is shocking,
My password keeps blocking,
I’m ringing for hours and frankly it’s wrong
That I send you a cheque on April the third
And now it is August and still I’ve not heard!”

“Right-ho,” I replied, “so this cheque of yours,
Let’s look at this further,” as I stalled for a pause, 
For I knew in my head
That her cheque was dead
And four months from sending? This was a lost cause!

“Can’t hear you!” she bellowed, “I’m deaf in this ear,
So shout down the phone, boy, and make it real clear!”
If that ear is deaf then why don’t you switch?
Try using the other, you crazy old witch…

“O-kay… so you sent it, but have you some proof?”
“What’s your name?” she demanded.I told her the truth:
“I’m Daniel”, “What, Darren!?”
“No, Daniel”, “You’re Darryl!?”
“No – Daniel, I’m Daniel! Not Darren or Darryl
Nor Derrick or Duncan or Dennis or Carol
Just Daniel, you hear me! Why phone if you’re deaf?
“Now please let me transfer your call through to…Jeff.”

Yeah, Jeff – he’s superb! He’ll sort it all out
He thrives on abuse and he loves a good shout
Just hold for two seconds
And see what he reckons
He’s never at lunch and he’s never in doubt…”
So long then, dear madam, I know that I’ll miss you
“And, oh, you should know that we’ve launched a new issue”
“A tissue!?…” she roared, as I slammed down the phone
But all that she heard was a dull monotone...


Details | ABC | |

Sugarland Express(The Honeywagon's Replacement)

It all happened so fast
No one had time to react
What to do now that the Honeywagon is gone
Do we really want this day to dawn
Reality hits, how could Charlie be so heartless
He tells the females, welcome to the Sugarland express
Miss Bette never did not experience the previous ride
Now she wonders with her grief who can she confide
Please don't approach me, I don't want to give Charlie any distress
I do want to lose my turn to cruise to the gate in the Sugarcenter Express
Now that there is a new Alpha Female
I call her Gabby, but her real name is Gabrielle
The guys still are enforced with the same regulations
Sit in back and feel that unimportant sensation
I heard a guy tried to ride in the front seat
He was told move to the back and feel the defeat
A guy riding up front, what thoughtlessness
This is not a Beefcake Cruise, it is the Sugarland Express
A female had some gifts, today was her birthday, guys see it as junk
Too many gifts, two guys were forced to ride in the trunk
I have signed up, do I have what it takes to be a guest
Just once, please I beg, for my turn to ride in the Sugarland Express
At this point it don't matter, something is certainly laggin'
I miss the DVD player and all the other amenities in the Honeywagon
I just had to get that off my chest
Please sign up, I have still another three months before my turn to ride in the 
Sugarland Express
But soon I heard Charlie will offer Nintendo Wii to play on the way to the gate
So if you want that ride, don't be late
Ah, a new female all she has to do is ask for a seat
I feel this saga will never be complete



Details | Cowboy | |

Muck Dance Ballet

(French terms to know: arabesque (ar-a-besk) stand on one leg, other leg extended back
with knee straight, arms out; pirouette (peer-oo-et) a full turn of the body on the top of
the toe or the ball of the foot; releve' (rel-vay) rise up from the whole foot onto the
ball of the foot; demi plie' (dem-ee plee-ay) half bend of the knees; port de bras
(por-de-bra) continual movement of the arms through a series of positions; fouette
(foo-ay-tay) series of turns on one leg, the other leg extending rapidly to side and
whipping around body; glissade (glee-sade) a connecting sliding step

When corrals turn to mush
and all dirt roads are slush,
springtime has arrived at our place.
The challenge begins
since I'm sans webs or fins
to walk outside with upright grace.

I don my galoshes
and cov'ralls that washes
to feed stock that wait in the lots.
By the time I return
I will honestly earn
my decor of brown and green spots.

As I step in the slop,
my galoshes do flop,
as ankle-deep mud gets a grip.
In slow forward motion
I ease through this potion,
resisting the muck's pull to slip.

I feed several hay bales
and balance two grain pails,
while working my way through the soup.
But before I am through
I'll lose one boot or two
from suction of that muddy goop.

THWOOP!

My foot's poised in the air
as I (gasp) balance up there.
I execute an arabesque,
a slow pirouette
so I shan't get all wet.
What I need is a chair or a desk!

My predicament here
since my boot is so near
is to turn it around in the slop.
My balance must hold
while my foot's in this mold
and fearing my body will drop.

A controlled releve'    
and demi plie'
are more than my posture can stand.
A wild port de bras
while I desperately claw
finds me catching the ground with my hand.

I snap a fouette'
and turn the other way.
I manage a slippery glissade.
For it's not every day
you see Muck Dance Ballet--
just when ankle deep mud makes you wade.

Copyright Terry Henderson
terryhenderson.net


Details | Free verse | |

Free Range

Often my thoughts do range far and wide.
But it’s not just my thoughts that skim the tides.
When my Hubby asks and I don’t reply…
He says I’m free ranging again with my mind.
He laughs and tells me to please wake up…
But I’ve already been there, thank you, so much.

Deep in thought and so far away,
He’s still my muse in every way.
But once I get going on that thought…
Look out boys, my mind is set and lost
But don’t you worry. No Sireeee.
When the typing slows you’ll know I’m back, you see.

Those free-range chickens have nothing on me…
I way surpass them in productivity.
And as my words free range far and wide
You’ll find… others may be joyfully joining  me for a time.



Details | Free verse | |

old 66 mustang

This 1966 mustang that i own
It unique and thinks it has it own throne
Oh yes it drives
Thats until the engine dies
Was this car ever fast
To me it seems out classed
Since last year I've worked on this car
Everyone knows i haven't got that far
But i know it has potential
Even thought i just broke it rear end differential
It doesn't roar
And no its not like that greek god thoar
More or less its funny 
I should call it a big lovable bunny


Details | I do not know? | |

Killing Time

Friday rolls around 
I am too excited 
My pennies are saved 
My outfit’s sorted 
Bath and make up, done 
Ready for a big night out 

One problem 
It’s the afternoon 
Tick tock, 
Tick tock 
Hurry the fek up Mr. Clock 
You really, truly hate me 

'Cause of you I’m late for work 
Early for fun 
You bore me to hell with your incessant tick tocking 
If you had a real face I would… 

I’ll have a drink 
Chill 
Kill some time 
Just the one 
Lightweight 

I sip Whisky 
And twiddle my thumbs 
Bored on the highest level 
Eureka! 
I’ll check the Net 


Laptop open 
Booting up 
Logging on 
123 ABC 
Bingo, I’m in 

Surprise 
I have three emails 
Junk! 
Unless I needed to grow my ***** ten more inches 
Date a married man 
Or join Mob Wars and get one million fake dollars for online poker 
Now there’s a bit of competition for you 
NOT 

Facebook is where it’s at on a Friday afternoon 
Isn’t it? 
Let me see if there are any interesting status updates 
Nope 

Unless I care that Trudy is having a nice cup of tea after getting all her ironing done 
Wow, Susan planted apple trees on her farm, and took a snapshot (WTF?) 
David is with Mark, Kate and Lesley somewhere near Southend 
I’m glad I’m thousands of miles away from the weirdoes 

Oh, wait a second 
I have an invite! 
And it’s something to do with food 
My profile says I’m a chef 
I post tons of pictures of food 
Finally something worth opening 

Wrong! 
Amy has invited me to join Chef World 
Now I can work in a virtual kitchen cooking virtual food after spending all day in a real kitchen cooking real food 
Idiotic waste of time 

I click the link and enter a bright red kitchen 
Timers scattered 
Pots and pan readied 
Bacon eggs, beans and fries to cook 
All need coordinating 
Timing is crucial 

And she’s off 
Fries on 
123456 
Bacon, wait for it 
Wait for it 
On 
123 
Toast down 
12345 
Beans on 
123 
Toast pops 
Burnt 
Crap! 
Fries burnt 
Eggs burnt 
Crap 

I try again 
And again 
After 4 hours I’m a virtual pro 
The phone rings 
‘Kim, I’ll be there in ten, be ready.' 
'I'll try.' 
You've had all day, what you doing?’ 
'Murdering time.'


Details | Rhyme | |

In All Things Give Thanks


"In All Things Give Thanks"

It's 5 A.M. another day.
That clock!   It didn't ring!
Slow as I am    what can I say... 
My behind's in a sling!

I've got to hurry! Where's my Keys!
The water's COLD!! Good Grief!
No toilet paper...Where's my Keys!
Run in my hose...Good Grief!

The toast burning...Where's my Keys!
"Yes Sir, I'm on my way."
Well, true if I could find my keys...
What's in this coffee--Hey!!

Who would have thought...I found my Keys!
Oh no! You've got to start.
Oh, come on baby. Pretty please...
Yes! Now! Off to Wal-Mart!

Cain't show with a run in my hose.
Oops! I better slow down...
Doin' 20 over...on the nose.
Now what! Just move around!

This isn't Sunday don't you know!
Come on! Get off the road!
You gonna drive or watch a show!
Where's your card you old toad?!

Get the ...well now  that's more like it.
I'm just gonna be late.
Thought I's gonna have to hike it...
Could have been there at this rate! 

What's all those flashing lights ahead?
          'A multiple car crash...
          Said, sev'ral people may be dead'...
Everywhere    there was trash.

It's 9 A.M. this very same day.
That clock...it didn't ring...
          Or I'd be up there--dead--I'd say...
Had not Angles 'fixed' things.

--Deborah Burch


 For Gail's "Touched By An Angel Contest"
 Form:Rhyme
 3/30/2011

*note: "be greatful in all things and in all things give thanks" ...even in delays, missing keys, runs in hose, cold water, slow drivers, missing shoes, slow children, lol...there is a reason for all things...all things have a purpose...that forgotten purchace of toilet paper at the store two days before just happened to run out on this particular morning...lol...big huggsss,love~deb...enjoy


Details | Rhyme | |

MORE SNOW COMING FROM WEST CAROLINA

Side streets, avenues and boulevards
seem fortifications of past civil wars
with piles of ice glistening, and the grime
and dirt from passing cars splash them with slime..


The meteorologist from Eyewitness News grins as he tracks down the January storm
predicting no pleasant, sunny weather or break in clouds tomorrow night;
more snow from West Carolina will arrive to New York Harbor after midnight,
then it will change to ice, rain and sleet....I'll drink plenty of coffee to keep me warm! 


So worried, I called my  pretty niece who's traveling up North,
I told her to drive safely and stop at a gas station to check her tires,
but Claudio will soothe her blues as he hums many happy rhymes,
and lots of stories he will tell me having seen the kids of the South.


Wednesday I will go back to work, having plenty of time to sleep...
to do as I will, but staring at a blackened snow at every curb,
I can't bear the thought that spring is months away and my Ford
is parked between cars that haven't been moved since last week.   


I'm waiting without thrill more snow from West Carolina,
praying for everyone's safety as they cross another borderline...
If I were a kid, I'd build the funniest snowman on my block,
and happily go around it twenty times as a quacking duck!


Details | Free verse | |

buzz buzz

buzz buzz 
sun rise
down the dark night 
and
up the blue sky

dress in blues
red tie 
brown belt and shoes

stairway to streetway
into the deep crowds of many
misters and misses 
on their way
to somewhere 
to prey 
somehow
on each other

till the end of day 
and darkness 
once again
and again
somewhere 
somehow
to rest 

until
buzz buzz
and up the blue sky


Details | Free verse | |

Everybody's Hairy (written by a 9 year old girl)

Everybody's hairy
My Daddy's hairy
My Mommy's hairy
I am hairy
And all of us have hair in our noses


Details | Free verse | |

Oh Poor Cable Man

Stomp Stomp 
Why are stomping?
You don't even live here!
Mutter Mutter
Would you stop muttering?
It's not making yourself look too sane
Stomp Stomp Skip
Watch out for that boot toe
We wouldn't want you falling on your crazy face
Mutter Mutter Curse Word
Hey Hey now! Don't make me kick you
Do you think I like your butt being here? There are things to do
Stomp Stomp
Oh, now you want to talk decently?
"This should fix everything - You're getting an amplifier"
Mutter Mutter
Now it's I who is muttering
Disagreement This will work for a couple of days
Stomp Mutter
We're both unhappy
This relationship can't continue much longer
Mutter Stomp
Yes I guess I'll call you
See you next week. Buh Bye now
Stomp Stomp 
Oh well hello! You're back
I was worried about you
Mutter Mutter
Hey Hey now! It's not my fault!
you work for them.


Details | Rhyme | |

Where is My Time, Humor

I try to be the best wife and mom
Yet  my patience is running thin
There are bills to pay and screaming mouths to feed….
Oh, Where do I begin?
Just too many duties
In the course of a day
And did I forget to mention
My earnings... “NO PAY”
Laundry, shopping, cooking and dishes
I have no time-
To even scratch where I’m itching
“Can I have a dollar please?”
“Mommy I have a terrible wheeze!”
“Mommy she called me a “Name”
“Mommy can we play a game?”

The dog keeps messing on the floor
My kids are always crying poor
Or something on their body’s sore
I want to run right out the door!
Homework, cupcakes.. due tomorrow!
"I have a date..The car can I borrow?"
Answering the door and phone all day long
Confined to a punished for doing nothing wrong”
I can’t find a soul to take out the trash
Off to the doctors for my daughter’s butt rash
I wipe up a drink. I mop up the floor
Only to find that my daughter spilled more

Entertaining a birthday party sleepover
Picking up the guest like i'm a chauffer
I have to scrub the toilet and sink
I only have time for one eye to blink
I finally get home to rest on the sofa
In hopes to catch a glimpse of some Oprah
Instead I'm entertained by Spongebob again
Rehearsing the lines inside of my head
Nick Nite and MTV, 
Is just about killing me
Between Rap Music  and big bootie shaking,
I pray that my sight and hearing is taken
 
Ohhhh........

Where is the time for me to be “ME?”
To sit in quiet at my own TV
Or take a hot bath, even read a good book
These things are so much overlooked
Well I have to go
Someones calling my name

“MOMMMMY” …The underpaid dame

(Can you relate)


Details | Narrative | |

Sleepless at the Don't Drink and Drive Bar

 Sitting on a stool at a hole in the wall joint called, “The Don’t Drink and Drive Bar.”  The place smells like day old burger grease with a dash of lemon scented Pine-Sol.  I was on my way out to Denver, but I had to stop for the night.  I needed to sleep. The road was starting to look like a long black coiled snake, waiting to strike.

The roadside motel was nice enough, but the moment I put my head on that starched white pillow case, I was wide awake. So I sit here, eating fries that are too crispy, a hot sandwich that’s too cold and drinking a martini that’s too bruised. I could live with it, but I was getting sick and tired of hearing Garth Brooks saying he has friends in low places over and over. Obviously he has never met me.

At the other end of the bar, sat a woman who looked like a long lost mother. She had those extra long Virginia Slims in her hand, the smoke encasing her head and hands. She was sucking them down to the nub as quick as a thirsty drunk would suck up beer through a straw. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. Or maybe it was that all that smoke was finally bugging her. She went over and put another quarter in the jukebox. She must of had a crush on Mr. Brooks, or maybe her husband left her, but it’s likely that she lost her puppy.

I didn’t care, I just needed some sleep. I knew that I’ll end up having a nightmare with some guy with an acoustic guitar, breathing smoke saying I’m not low enough to be his friend. I need to get out of here.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

DRAMA AT THE ZOO

" That's not my elephant!"
Ella yelled at the zoo-keeper...
walking slowly on her hands and feet
scaring the second grader away;
and making a funny face
she added, " She doesn't eat spaghetti!"
with a strong southern accent.
" Young lady, don't make fun
of people and animals...
they have feelings like you!"
but she, with little respect 
for the middle-aged man replied,"
Read The Bill Of Rights...I can do
what I like...I have got freedom of speech!"
" I do too, little punk!" Ray answered in rage.
" If you don't knock it off,
you will not see your baby elephant today!" 
" Listen, old man I may be a tomboy,
but you have a foul smell and you need a shower!"
" I need a shower...you need to wipe off 
that ugly, fat face of yours...what are you trying to do
with all that make-up: look like a cover girl?"
They finally got into a physical fight...
she splashed a bottle of water on the zoo-keeper,
and he wiped the heavy make-up off her face...
"Oh, this fun" she said with excitement...
" Yes, I am having fun too!" he confessed.
And they laughed hard at each other...
while the elephant and second grader danced.


Details | Free verse | |

Cleaning Day

I think that God had intended
For Spring cleaning.
After all, he intended for doors
To light dark corners,
The spiders to spin webs 
Along the walls..
The dust collecting 
On the surfaces,
The bird's song 
As an incentive 
To keep working.
The tiny sqeak
Of cleaning windows,
The allure
Of a newly made bed,
With my puppy by my pillow...
The crisp, clean look
Of a newly painted wall,
And the soft feel 
Of new carpet on your toes..
The clean smell
Of newly hung laundry, 
But most of all...
I think God had intended 
For Spring cleaning
As a darn good reason
To REST.


Details | Rhyme | |

Getting to Work on Time

Getting to Work on Time

By Elton Camp

The new boss told Joe, “One thing I do hate
And that is any employee coming in late.”

Joe carefully set his alarm clock each night
Being late to work would get him in a tight

But knew from the past that he might choose
To hit the time bar for a little bit more snooze

To makeup for the discipline that he lacks,
Joe used tape to install a row of thumbtacks

But the next morning when the alarm wails
He rams thumbtacks underneath his nails

The boss gave his damaged fingers a stare
Then asked himself if Joe should be there

But Joe merely gave him a sheepish grin
It seemed sometimes that he couldn’t win


Details | Verse | |

Genuinely Promoted

From lugging heavy boxes in a distribution place,
To taking pinewood coffins to a so called place of grace.
From melting from the heat from six till half past three,
To eating currant buns and drinking nice hot cups of tea.

From hassle from the bosses; there are far too many of them,
To driving around in solitude, with no one to shout your name.
From stitching machines and printing machines on the shop floor,
To making personal enquiries at some brand new prospects door.

From being driven crazy by the boredom of the job,
To have the joy of being able to earn a few more bob.
From the pittance of a wage that was forever small,
To a salary that makes you feel almost ten feet tall.

From the humblest of positions, in a factory set-up,
To driving bones and bodies to the hospital make-up.
From this most unusual tale, I'm sure you've got the notion,
That if you leave the factory, it's sure to be PROMOTION.

Even a funeral assistant gets twice as much or more,
Than all of these workers on this factory shop floor.
So Neil we wish you all the best in your new position,
There won’t be any hassle because it's just DEAD opposition.

Robert Cartwright-Davidson 


Details | Cowboy | |

Rancher, Ranch Hand, Cowboy, Cowhand PART 1

I have a name for my husband. One that can be repeated.  I call him cowboy. But 
he tells me I am wrong. He never redeoed, nor a Saturday night cowboy was he. 
And he was way to young for the cattle drives of history. Born on his father’s 
homestead in Nebraska sandhill land. He started working full time on a ranch as 
a lad of fourteen. All of the work they did back then was done with horses and 
teams. True cars were around in ‘45, but tractors were hard to be found. So for 8 
years he proudly worked on the famous 101 Nebraska ranch. In l9 hundred and 
57 I started teaching up there. When my teaching job was done the cowboy and 
the teacher became as one. I moved up the beautiful valley to the ranch where he 
did work and don’t laugh I then became the cook. And while we worked we kept 
our eyes and ears open for a ranch of our own. At last we were blessed with the 
ranch of our dreams on the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota Land.


Details | Senryu | |

Scattered

scattered
like the paper on the desk
are my thoughts


Details | Rhyme | |

A Night Guard's Life

Autumn leaves that crinkle underfoot The misty sky at night. The gale force winds, The thunderstorms. Such is a nightguard's life. Winter snow three feet deep, Working on Xmas night. The icy paths The double thick coats. Such is a nightguard's life. Spring birds singing a mating call, Owls that hoot at night. Flowers blooming, Gardens of colour. Such is a nightguard's life. Summer evenings bright and clear, Patrols in short sleeves at night. A cheese salad meal, Unofficial cold beer! Such is a nightguard's life.


Details | Rhyme | |

I'm Going To Be A Clown

I’m leaving home to join the circus; I’m going to be a clown
With make up on my face and baggy pants that will fall down
I will drive a funny car that will blow up into bits
All the people that are watching me, will having laughing fits

The custard pies will fly and land in someone’s face
I will be a big clown riot in every single place
The smell of the grease paint and the roar of the crowd 
It’s a shame my family won’t see me, for I’m sure they would be proud

Underneath the big top I will entertain you all
Every time I take  a stumble or a fall
So come along and see me, I’ll be just inside the ring
Hoping you will split your sides at every funny little thing


Details | Senryu | |

Boring

While I stand and watch
Nothing important happens
As clouds pass over


Details | Rhyme | |

The Employment Interview

The Employment Interview

By Elton Camp 

Frank is convinced that he is the best
To him don’t apply rules for the rest
A suit and tie there is no need to wear
Nor is it necessary to groom his hair

He thinks a casual shirt, boots & blue jeans
Won’t blow the interview to smithereens
Frank boasts wildly just as much as he can
And paints himself as a sort of superman

Of course, he expects to get benefits galore
Whatever the salary, he will ask for more
He must be allowed to work at his own pace
Since no job is worth getting into a rat race

A cubicle is not a workspace suited to him
And Friday afternoons he goes to the gym
After six weeks he will expect to get a raise
And his work is to receive nothing but praise

The impression he think that he’s creating
Is very far from what the boss is estimating
“Frank, thank you granting us an interview.
I will let you know if we have need of you.”


Details | Light Poetry | |

JorgeSouthKorea

This is the man that I am

No need for a detective because I have few mysteries

Whatever you don’t find its trapped somewhere inside my mind

I put my life into words for the whole world to read

I hope you enjoy what you see

A South Korean English teacher by night

An avid writer by day

A helpless romantic somewhere in between

The smile and joy from my students is priceless

Seeing someone enjoy my writings is pretty rewarding as well

I feel that everything in my life is finally going well

From my writings you may find that hard to tell

Sorry I don’t write more fantasies or fables

To convey happy emotions and attract more followers

You are getting my life through my eyes

I don’t have a sweet tooth so I don’t sugarcoat things

I write what I have seen and how it has effected me

My adventures and journeys have been vast

Come with me on this ride

Together we can both be pleasantly surprised

With what I will write

This is the the man that I am



Find more of my writings and poems at jorgesouthkorea.com


Details | I do not know? | |

Why?

Why does your boss always feel
That it’s you who laze around;
While it’s he whose muscles always steel,
And his work is always sound?

It’s you who come that wee bit soon
And work like there’s no end;
The last to leave (you can see the moon),
Yet treated like a goon!

Some delay, you’ve had it good!
You rake up reasons some.
But these are never understood
For your boss’s not your chum!

From here to there and there to here
You are always on the move.
You are working sure, but there’s the fear
You’d be told to “improve”!


Details | Acrostic | |

oldman

once there was an old man on a lane
he always had many cats
then he took a train
and went down another lane


Details | I do not know? | |

Office Romance

I can tell you want to talk, but don’t know what to say
I better think of something quick, before you go away
I wonder if you think about me, when I’m out of sight
I think about you all the time and can’t get sleep at night
I want to kiss you as you stand there looking at the floor
I want to draw my office shades and have you ask for more
I could be wrong that you like me, a fate much worse than death
So I’ll just talk about the weather, until I’m out of breath


Details | Rhyme | |

Get Dressed

If you're too tired too eat the meat
Grow a backbone and stand on your own two feet

Doesnt' happen in a minute
Doesn't happen in an hour
Works like soaking in marinade
Longer it sits, 
More flavor is added to the taste of power

Lips and a voice allow you to speak
Ears allow you to hear
Eyes allow you to see
You'd rather ignore these miraculous gifts
While you relax and drink a beer

You wake the next day
Disappointed that you've settled for a job you hate
Get dressed, drive to work
Life is too short for this..common!
Why do you wait?

No wonder you keep yourself so well groomed
You've got nothing else to offer, you feel doomed
That mentality wont get you down the block
Take a sick day and learn to play with sidewalk chalk

Money isn't the root of all evil
It's greedy people that want to be in histories sequel. 




Details | Rhyme | |

Please Don't

Rain, Rain go away,
Please don't flood
My basement 
Again today.


Details | Couplet | |

MONDAY

                                                   MONDAY

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed,
There's a mind numbing pain at work in my head.
Wash my hair and comb my face,
Something died in my mouth, where's the toothpaste?

Grab a quick bite of breakfast and rush out the door,
Can't find my car keys, they fell on the floor.
Finally find them and start the car,
I'm gonna be late, well that's about par.

Hit every stop light on the way to work,
Look down and notice there's a stain on my shirt.
Forgot to let Spike out, he's crossing his legs,
Have to go back, this morning's the dreggs.

The absolute bottom, the pitts, it's the worst!
What else could happen, it seems that I'm cursed!
Wait a minute, it's Monday, first day of the week,
No wonder this day has begun so bleak.

Come ahead Monday, get it over with now!
I've got bon bons and chocolates and a little brown cow,
To soothe and to comfort my poor shattered nerves,
And to bind and to buffer the slings and the curves;

Do your worst Monday,
Come on, have a fit,
You can't scare me,
I have chocolate!

                                                        Judy Ball


(Afterall, chocolate is an emotional band aide)


Details | ABC | |

The Honeywagon Has Returned

Boy, do I have some exciting news!!
This tidbit of info has taken away my Blues
It was such a long day, I was glad when it was adjourned
I go outside and see the Honeywagon has returned
I call everyone to give them the scoop
Eveyone wants to be a snoop
The crowd gathers to take a look see
And there it is a surround sound system and to enjoy the DVD
It used to seat seven, now it seats nine
Brand new custom made rims with a perfect shine
As it is started you can hear the Lag Pipes roar
There are new additions behind each door
Now a stewardess has been hired for the passenger's comfort and concern
Ah Yes!!  The Honeywagon has returned
Now there are tasty treats when you ride
A hot tub exists under a floor panel that slides
So what does he have to eat on the way
Sodas and Publix Deli trays, that's just for starters
To make the cut is getting harder and harder
Once again my hopes and dreams are shattered, when will I learn
I know I should just be grateful, the Honeywagon has returned


Details | ABC | |

Leftovers From All Over Buffet

Something had just occurred to me 
As I sat and talked to Cleetus Magee
He was only joking that day
I took it serious in an odd, pathetic way
He suggested I open my own place for people to eat
I began to brainstorm on the cost for food, a/c, electric and heat
It hit me like a ton of bricks
After eating some Barbecue at Rick's
So tonight I will make my play
After raiding a few dumpsters, I will have enough to open my leftovers from all 
over buffet
I began by scanning the neighbors trash cans late at night
Not much luck, some Sausage Pudding and Tripe
Next I will raid Applebee's for some quality food to offer
I even found a couple of Golfballs I will give to a friend of mine who is an avid 
golfer
As I was dumpster diving, I had some trouble from a couple of stray cats over 
three chunks of meat
After a fight and I received a few scratches, the cats then leave in defeat
I picked up the meat to smell it, free meat my favorite price
With a lot of spices, it will be very well disguised
Then I moved on to the Noisy Oyster
All the seafood was still quite fresh,  it contained  plenty of moisture
I rented a space at a cold storage facility
Until I had enough for some business stability
With every dumpster raid, my food inventory grew
Maybe next would be IHOP, pondering if I should put breakfast items on the buffet 
too
Tonight I open up the doors
To a feast no one has ever seen before
Just to see the customers go up for seconds or thirds gives me pleasure
The saying is true One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure
One customer said if he didn't have to go to work he would eat all day
Ssh! Please don't reveal my secrets about my leftovers from all over buffet




Details | Rhyme | |

Quick, Igor, Fetch the Subject

Quick, Igor, Fetch the Subject

By Elton Camp

At last Dr. Fraggle has achieved success
He’s developed a potion to bring distress

“A mad scientist they dare to call me!
Now who’s insane we will very soon see.”

“For if my elixir proves to work under test
Its power will soon be felt by all the rest.”

“Helping mankind has been far overrated
Most people I meet, I’ve instantly hated.”

“My research, grants foundations all deny.
But their evaluations were nothing but a lie.”

“That my work has value they will now find
My potion’s fumes will change their mind.”

“Other scientists will beat a path to my door.
None will ever dare to revile me anymore.”

“And the grand name of Fraggle will be hailed
Unless I fail and then I’ll probably be jailed.”


Details | Rhyme | |

Vanity Press

dear mr. electrician you're a man of distinction thank you from me and the spouse for rewiring our house. you have worked hard no wire out of place you toiled and sweated nothing neglected. but we will not pay you and here's the reason why. we will send a patronising letter tell you there's no-one better. photos of your work will appear in an album top quality, leather-bound the cost to you just forty pound. you don't have to buy if you can't afford this sum but the album will be a reminder of a job well done.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Man

Sitting at the gate,what a dreadful way to go.
Looking up and looking down,
When you don't really know.
Waiting for the man who has the final say,
racking your brain as it grows longer in the day.
You finally see him coming,although the lights a little bright.
He says the words that ease you so,second dock on the right.


Details | Rhyme | |

Fast Awake

Thank God for 7-27, when my son flew in
Life as it should be will forever begin
Charming little visions of how days are meant
To teach him as he shows me how life is spent

Listen to me now and read what I find so true
Words are like a beat that can start a groove
Bring the rhythm back to lift your spirits up
Don't worry too much because we all get stuck

My life seems to stop before it begins
Caught in another ever-recurring trend
Giving away every one of my previous wins
With Faith and company until my life ends

It's time now to be down again
Even faster than western winds
Life can run around, leave you in loop
Feeling that life needs one more scoop 
Tip the timer over, fall with the sand
Live for every second you possibly can

I will soon learn should luck turns up
I'm lost, backwards, and running amuck
Trying to regain what I thought I missed
Elusive, erratic and ending up like this

Never have I wanted to be other than here
Life in crystal-clear brings visions near
Capable are your dreams so easily achieved
All you have to do is work & truly believe

Look for a big picture in whatever you see
Never believe free, it offers no guarantee
Just sit back and listen to tales they tell
And make your own path but remember it well

Don't try to be so deep, just work to relax
Make life a story but include all the facts
Learn about yourself when you're at the mic
Work the crowd just to see what you're like

Life will soon be everything you need it to be
Proceed with sight don't let only destiny lead
You always have control in every step you take
Follow dreams today and always live fast awake

At times I don't know where this path would go
Like I'm hosting a show I've never seen before
Filling in the gaps, taking punches for others
Learning along the way what life really offers

It’s time now to be down again
Steps closer to an unknown end
Digging up dirt nearly burying yourself
At least the digging is good for health
Live your life now, stay until the very last
Live your life today as if it's already past


Details | Light Poetry | |

Hooked On Bermujan

Dyu need to get dyu a copy
Of de Bermujan Vurds dicshunairy
de Rocks, translator of choice,
de primary “slanguage’ of all
dem Bermewjan children dat 
speak in de flat saun of my woice.

Is British Standard English 
or de "Queen's English"
or de Bermudian dialect,
required to past de test?,
Vitch one conserves de
Bermujan’s truly unique
cultural identity at its best?

Dem Byes on de Rock say
“Jus de locals, have de right
each born Bermys arryvun, 
to Bermuda status, for dey
alone are de peoples of dis
hur Islands of de Beribbean.

Is it de distinct vey of speaking
dat attracts de tourist to dese isles’
and businessmen from far avay,
Or de friendliness of ve mujans
only, dat make dem all 
come hur to work and play.

Shaped like a fish hook
de island’s natural beauty 
and crystal clear vawda 
catches dem good and tight,
Maybe dey come hur to stay
on der extended work permits
to claim de Bermujan birthright.

Only time vill tell if deez 
immigrant paper Bermujans, 
vill displace all de locals 
arryvun young and old,
Splitizens all of distant shores 
dat vill one dey change dese 
Islands of the Beribbean 
into “Anower Vurld”

© Eugene Harvey


Details | Ballad | |

A BUCKINGHAMSHIRE BOY-recited

Aye 'ee is fierce and hale.
Four mile to work,across the vale;
No slommakin' slattern 'ee,
Okkard as an itching flea.

Eee'd fetch hosses to boss's yard,
Garmed with mud,as thick as lard,
Cla'holt of 'em wiv a rope,
On is own,allus could cope.

Niver sees 'im vexed,or aggled,
Even if drenched and bedraggled;
In lightning 'e wore niver frit,
Though the whole sky wore fork-lit.

Grew peas that kidded well,
Allus 'ad a tale to tell.


Dialect from around Aylesbury Vale ,England in 1940's

Listen to me read this in this dialect on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro


Details | Ballad | |

Warehouse 317

320 has a great bunch working there
They show a lot pride they really care
I personally don't consider any of this work, to me it's all fun
Sweat already pouring from the Warehouse heat and the morning sun
Daine and Nathaniel welcome to a great team
We cover one another on tasks in Warehouse 317
We have the mother of all mothers coming our way soon
Enough fun coming to make you wanna bark at the moon
I am looking forward to the thirty thousand guests 
So let's wipe the sweat from our brows and make it look effortless
Monique is going to miss out on this great adventure, Zena is now the one caught in between
Local Purchase stop pulling your hair out, what a great place called Warehouse 317
There is Hezakiah handling the turn ins
He has to be careful and watch the NSN's
Glen handles the Turretts and parts to the shops
Without Wonda and Michael, the production stops
Gabrielle is the Goddess of the Hazmat
Shipping is now on cruise control with Doug there, but we all wear so many different hats
Jerry is the main director of this sometimes circus scene
Under our wonderful big top at Warehouse 317
A manager is only as good as her or his people allow them to be
I am thankful for all who I work with and my extended family 
I love where I work and I am so happy to come there every day
All this fun and very good pay
DRMO is handled by Elsa and Fred
This is where all the useless parts are sent
The Carpenter Shop has Jason
That is where they do the packaging and craten'
Tom runs the show at Container Ops
David is in charge of the Turrett Shop
The mechanics have the vehicles coming in and going out at a tremendous rate
The Shop Clerks keep the ordering and parts requirements up to date
Vehicles to be shipped, Motor Pool is on the scene
But it all starts at my favorite place, Warehouse 317
I am sorry if I missed anyone such as Tammy at Safety, or Miss Lilly at PBO
Overall the operations are under the direction of Rick and Joe
The Front Office Personnel answer the phone
Without them, there would be nobody home
The shipboard stuff handled by Wholesale
Shop's parts handled by Retail
I personally want to thank everyone for all they do
This place could not do what it does without me or you
So I am not trying to be rude or mean
But I must end the saga now, come visit us at Warehouse 317


Details | Free verse | |

Hardcore satanists

world wars your mongering for
the big satanic bloodbath
more appealing to god
then two homosexual men
The devil may cry
my favorite angel facing a feat of unequal measure
since you know soo much about him
live it everyday
you never let him live this down
just work on making yourselves miserable
you look soo happy that way
words you read by the best
your own walking contradiction
so caught up in getting what you want at anycost
you forgot what he wanted
and there is a price to pay
signed yourself up for a fight that isnt yours
the rules you live by
they are enforced
you cant scramble away from this fast enough
the lie you live for power
lesser of two evils presented to you
path of least resistance corners you again
sing yourself to suicide ever soo sweetly
the shortest straw has no alibi
and i think its funny
Jesus has some truth to tell him
slip the witch a missing letter
she doesnt mind bringin him back to life
even the devil you know
splattered all over your pages
the philosophy you seem to live everyday
offered you a short term power
and we just throw you away
came to get my favorite angel
something youve been denying yourself the whole time
trivial pursuit of endless lies manipulating yourselves this way is such a shame
now i'm not obligated to help you
you had a choice
the game of life you signed up for is coming round again
faster than you think
your underground rivalry of seeking after power
i paid the devil to see if you would make this mistake
then you did and i agreed he could do the dirty work in jesus name
the truth will get you in karmic laws you forgot about
threefolds of being humbled
and humbled and humbled again
wont even help you, you cant get away
hardcore satanists dressed up as saints messing up their own destiny
did the world not tell you
life is a test?
you were tested
you failed
the devil was in on it
enjoy your bloodbaths of endless wars in hell
the world kept this under rug swept
and now for you there is no way out
paid the devil for me
and jesus will eventualy set him free from the you he doesnt want
your not fathoming this properly
jesus was tortured so you wouldnt be
the letter gone missing
now whose got a face to blame
hardcore satanists
my favorite angel loves me
he wouldnt allow me to live this nightmare
so hes taking you far far away


Details | Light Poetry | |

Hamster Wheel

one thing missed
then two fall down
not a baby
left to drown
just simple things
oft forgotten
bananas left
black and rotten
bunnies made of
hair and dust
conspiracies of
dirt and rust
gather, gather
piling high
they just get worse
as days go by
spend a day with
broom and mop
working 'til you
think you'll drop
what is clean
won't stay that way
never even merely
for a day
webs of cob hang
from the ceiling
mocking me
(you know the feeling)
endless, endless
is the filth
defeating me and
harming health
inadequate is
how I feel
can't keep up on
this endless wheel
where has all my
life-force gone?
no more strength
to sing this song
dust and dirt has 
me defeated
I guess I'll just...
remain seated.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Immigrant

Sorry if I came here illegally

My country lacked opportunity

So this is how it had to be

Never took anything from you

Paid my taxes just like you

Society let the color of my skin in

But shamed my people and culture

I chased the American dream

As Americans wanted all my people to leave

I adapted to your culture

Your way of life

What more can I do

To say that I truly appreciate the red,white and blue


Thank you for reading. Visit jorgesouthkorea.com for more poems and writings that I have written.


Details | Narrative | |

MI COMMA TO AMERICA ( I CAME TO AMERICA ))

Mi camma to America wid a passion for moni en fud,
hoppin to getta rich;
en de sai det gold is founda in striz!
Mi work en work ol dei
to meke sam dollar,
en mi eat pizza, en drink vino...
mi wanna be lika Al Pacino:
a famos attor ov Hollivud! 
En me veit too mani iers, to see butiful voman 
laika Marilin Monro...whata a fess!
Whata a bodi! A Diva so sexi!
En mi wanna be laika Valentino from Italia,
to sedus ol duh pritty ladi vid mi ciarma;
en ol kiss mi...O locki Casanova!  

English Translation:

I come to America with a passion for money and food,
hoping to get rich;
and they say that gold is found on streets!
I work and work all day
to make some dollar,
and I eat pizza and drink wine...
I would like to be like Al Pacino
a famous actor in Hollywood!
And I waited many years to see beautiful women
like Marilyn Monroe...what a face!
What a body! A Diva so sexy!
And I like to be like Valentino from Italy,
to seduce all the pretty ladies with my charm;
and they all kiss me...O lucky Casanova!!

Entered in Deborah's Gucci, " Dialects make the world go around "
(Brooklyn-Italian dialect)

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Rhyme | |

OH SWEET

                                   Oh! "Sweet" you are for taste			
                                       in sugar, honey or money			
                                                 you take rest			
			
                                      Sweet fragrance of flowers			
                                     Sweet kisses of sweety lover			
                                               always our  best			
			
			
			
For contest:			
Sponsored by: Francine Roberts			
Written by: bldevnath			
28th December 2011 			


Details | Rhyme | |

Mess

Up and down the highway,what a life to lead.
But to often that is what happens when bills follow greed.
So we have most of what we want,
Now to pay for it,up and down the road I jaunt.
Going here and there,back and forth along the way.
Over hill and through the dale,what a long freaking day.
Now the things that I wanted,I leave all alone.
I can't really use them,I am never freaking home.
So why did I buy them,A brain tease I guess,
All they did for me was put me in a financial mess.


Details | ABC | |

Follow the Rules

For your safety and convenience, these rules are applied 
If you agree to follow them, welcome to the ultimate ride 
Ladies in front, men in back 
To keep the honey wagon clean, there will be no drinks or snacks 
You too could arrive to the parking lot in a ride that's so cool 
Just do one simple thing, follow the rules 
The honey wagon leaves promptly at three 
It cannot wait the driver is always in a hurry 
Sometimes the driver may not be here 
It is your sole responsibility to get to the gate, in the rules it is stated clear 
Everyone must disembark at the designated stop 
If you don't like it, get out and walk 
A dvd player will soon be installed for a movie on the way 
Soon all passangers will wonder, What's the movie today? 
Don't fall asleep, you may start to droole 
To avoid any chaos, you must follow the rules


Details | I do not know? | |

Sour Job

Can't deal with this job no longer
Nor the constant daily stress,
Never much appreciation shown
Not even from customer's none the less.

Its always do this or that
No kindness do they show,
If only they could read my mind
How hard for work it is to go.

There's just to much to handle
I don't have a big enough crew,
All the responcibility and hassle
If only at first I had knew.

But i've given them my notice
Their wanting me to stay,
I told them their only option
Thats to give me more pay.

Don't beleive they will do it
WIth money their rather tight,
So, I'll shake their hand and smile
Say good luck finding Mr. Right.


Details | Rhyme | |

THE MOUTH OF OTHERS

Let another mouth praise
you . Instead of your own.
Just live your life and people
will know what type of person
that's living in the inner house.
Let another mouth praise you .
Instead of your own;and you
will find that they were watching 
you all the time.
 
.


Details | Rhyme | |

Blue Collar Blues

I ain't got no money,
But I work my butt off,
Every single day.
I work so I can have a place to stay
All of the time, 
I work to get half of your dimes,
That you drop when you go down to flop.
Unlike you I never have time to watch the clock.
I got a degree that I don't use,
Because of the negligent leaders that you choose.
Unskilled labor aids the campaign.
You talk about me,
But you don't care to know my name.
I got skills:
But I have to pay the bills.
I want to be like you and cruise on a yacht.
I'm building what you bought.
I'm putting your house on a lot.
I'm scrubbing your pots.
I'm working as an indentured servant.
Hoping that I get what I'm deserving,
But for the time being: I'm slaving,
Dancing to my homemade tunes,
Complaining to colleagues, who are 
also on their knees praying for life
To get better, Singing strongly the 
Blue Collar Blues.

written 9-5-04
while still a college studenta


Details | Lyric | |

coffee with your cream?


I got laid in starbucks the other day
I was workin on finishing my latte
when the manager came up to me and said hey
at first I was like go away but then i looked up

asking if I wanted another cup
I slowly sputtered out, Yup
damn girl you is fine
what I wouldnt give to make you mine

Must be your lucky day cutie
as sexy as you are you can have my bootie
finally she took me into the back
lifted her dress and bent over a stack

french vanilla....hell no bend over the hazelnut
and there I was banging away on her butt
her boss finally walked in and asked what she was doin
for i wasnt the first customer that she got caught screwin

this is it now you've got to go
you keep missin work and now you a hoe!
but please daddy it not as it seems
this nice young man just asked for fresh cream~



Details | Free verse | |

A Song Long Enough

I had just set my headphones

down when the intercom

buzzed and Ruben O’s 

voice asked urgently:

 

“you ready man?”

 

I’m standing before the

multi-slide mixing board

in a studio dreamily

streaked in amber from

the track lights.

 

“Eagles Lyin’ Eyes man,

all six minutes and eleven

seconds.  let’s go!” was

my reply.

 

this is a conversation 

between two radio deejays

at two radio stations

in the same building

in San Antonio in the eighties.

 

it’s nearly three 

in the morning and were

both bored and wanting

a “bump” to make it

through our night owl

radio shifts.

 

I crank up the monitor

in the control room 

and swing the studio door

open and lock it back

so I can hear the song

play from thirty feet away.

 

Ruben O’ does the same 

to his door across the hall. 

 

this is what is happening

on the other side

of the microphone

as the 

listening public 

in four southern states 

tunes in to hear 

the Eagles on KTSA

and “Karma Chameleon”

by Boy George on KTFM.  

 

sister stations in a 

clay colored building

at the end 

of a 200 yard

driveway off 

Eisenhower Road

in San Antonio, Texas.

 

I’m already waiting outside

the back door where the

jocks park.  my foot holding

the door open. 

 

it’s a balmy summer night

and lightning silently shimmers 

in the tall clouds to the north 

of the Alamo City.

 

You can’t hide your lyin’ eyes…

 

You come and go, you come and go…

 

our dueling aired songs play

loudly and the sound

 crashes through the

still air and echoes 

boomingly off the 

residential neighborhood

two blocks away.

 

we each take hurried hits 

off the moistened roach.

holding the smoke in the

lungs for a few seconds.

 

two hits is all I need.

I’m already feeling a little

fuzzy.  Ruben O’s ready

to go too.

 

“screw it man, that’s good

enough”

 

we both sprint back

down the hallway 

to our respective

 broadcast studios.  

 

such is another night

as an all-night radio

deejay at twin stations

in south Texas 

on a summer night

in the eighties.


Details | Rhyme | |

Trucking

Took my truck to Albany last week,
Lost my fan belts,had a flat on the street.
Went to New York,the big apple at last,
Crossed the toll bridge,they took my pass.
Went to Minnesota,clear to the end.
Can't find a load,you are laid over my friend.
Went to Louisiana,trying to get home you see,
Only to find out,I was bound for Milwakee.
I quit making plans now that I find,
When not making plans,I get great home time.


Details | Lyric | |

Between You And Me

Some of the little things
That tried to brake us apart
Should of made us strong in our hearts
Because you are the love of my life
I love being your wife
I treasure all our moments together
It is the funny things 
That you do, makes me smile
And life is good with you
That our love can last awhile

(Chorus)
Between you and me
We can make our love right
Between you and me
And we can love each other 
Between you and me
We can last forever

When we started out
Others and they had there doubts
They said we wouldn't make it
Between you and me
We can work out the mistakes
Together we can work it out
Together we can make it
Threw all the hard times, rough roads
We've climbed over mountians
Carried some heavey loads
Together we are rasing a family
And my sisters to
And if we have arguments
Between you and me
Realize we all make mistakes
But it takes us to make it right
( Repeat chours)

Some of the little things
That tried to brake us apart
Should of made us strong in our hearts
Because you are the love of my life
I love being your wife
I treasure all our moments together
It is the funny things 
That you do makes me smile
And life is good with you
That our love can last awhile

Between you and me


Details | Rhyme | |

No One Listen

No one listen to a word I say
This continue to go on everyday,
Time after time week after week
The words I say seem so bleak.

I get tired of repeating the same old stuff
They ought to know it by now cause I say it enough,
I wonder do they care about what I say a all
Well, I guess not because they won't follow protocol.

If they do the work and get on one accord
Then they will realize the work wasn't so hard,
When they don't do the chores, I bring out my rod
Now all of a sudden, they wanna call on God.

God don't wanna listen and hear what you say
He's gonna say you should listen and obey,
I wouldn't have use the rod if they'd payed attention
All because no one would listen.


Details | Bio | |

How To Pay Your Bills (Part One)

This was a method employed,
By my last ex-wife,
Who enjoyed 16 years of 
torturing me,
The bane of my life...

See she sat and slept in
her recliner,
The power seat of the house,
And treated me,
Like an annoying mouse...
I was too dumd to take,
Care of a bill,
My mental capacity,
Seemingly nil...
Each day I'd hand her majesty
That days' mail,
Nothing but bills,
For the coffin a nail....
As I worked 6 days a week,
Most 11 hours long,
I grew quite meek...
Her system consisted,
Of tossing the bills in a pile,
Next to her chair,
Let them sit for awhile...
Till afer 'bout six weeks,
The pile reached her armchair height,
Annoyed her TV vision,
Obscuring her sight..
Now I knew, 
when she started to pay...
That legion of bills...
On that fateful day....
I'd better be,
At least a hundred miles away...
She would grow ever more disturbed,
And violent at me,
I didn't make enough,
For her tennis lessons,
You see.....
New car, clothes by the score,
She wanted no pressure,
And she wanted more...
I'd go to work,
With 30 cents,
No coffee could buy...
I was just too dense...
Worthless and shifty,
Each 60 hour week,
And pitiful, and weak,
And far too disdainful,
The mouse was too meek...

For three days I'd suffer the storm....
Wishing I was elsewhere,
Especially in a coed dorm....
'Cause I'd have non of "that",
If you know what I mean...
Sometimes lasted for months,
Despite pleading tears...

Now-adays, I live up "On Cripple Creek"
No longer matters if 
I'm feeling strong or quite weak,
Cause as the song says;
"Up on Cripple Creek,
If I spring a leak,
She mends me...
I don't have to speak,
She defends me...
A drunkard's dream...
If I ever did see one!"
 
This would be my friend Rosie,
Who pays all my bills,
Takes care of stuff,
Cures all of my ills...
And, should someone,
Be so damn foolish,
As to antagonize me,
I merely tell her,
And soon enough they would wish,
Someone else's hot anger,
Had they sampled in their dish,
Wishing to dear God,
They'd never heard of my name...
And suddenly they'd have realized,
They ought not have tried to play that game...
My biggest nightmare,
In the whole world, I do think,
Would be to piss her off,
That really would stink...
(cont.)


Details | I do not know? | |

Dream

The musical notes of a ballroom dance float through my ears, fading in and out.  I 
sway back and forth in sync with the motion of the sound waves as they put me 
back to sleep. But once again, I awaken; disturbed once more by the beautiful yet 
increasingly erratic symphony beside me. It fades to black and I'm conscious. I 
find myself lying in a de-saturated yet highly contrasted jungle, next to a spotted 
tiger and walking snake. The ominous auditory sensation manifests, more 
eccentric than ever.  Light emitting diodes filling digital spaces creep into view, 
four wide and each with seven sections.  Evil sideways cat eyes appear to 
separate the auroras in half, and create a satanic monster. The sporadic noise 
has become constant, and the satanic monster is becoming sharper.  Now 
knowing that I am fully conscious, I look up, noticing that it is in fact seven in the 
morning, and it is time for me to wake up...


Details | Carpe Diem | |

it's about the economy

the rich, the poor and the middle class
an invisible subliminal system of caste
we are suppose to be a nation of freedom and opportunity
a democratic society based upon equality
but in all actuality
it's about the economy

to be wealthy and have anything you can afford
to be the CEO or the chairman of the board
to be rich and have enough money to pass
just a few steps above the upper middle class
those who have to go to work most everyday
yet they still receive a substantial pay
and the poor, what they call the working stiffs
barely getting by, hoping their finances will shift

it's about the economy
and how much you are worth
it's about the amount of money you have
in your wallet or your purse
don't be naive and think money does not matter
it's about the economy and the rich whose pockets get fatter

if you're wealthy your name is on the building
if you're rich it's on the door
the middle class' names are on their desk
but if your name's on your shirt then you're poor


Details | ABC | |

Pardon My Dolly (

When I seen her, I knew I had to make her mine
She comes a family with a knack for design
She is put together so very well
She has been mine for 15 years, no one can tell
I know this story must sound melancholy
But please if would pardon my dolly
She has never needed any reconstruction
She carries extra weight time to time but removes it quickly, no need for 
liposuction
I love her so much, she is the one I know who will never let me down
She has strutted her stuff all over town
She enjoys being around me 
We have avoided so much contreversey
She waits for me right beside my bed
She need a new coat, possibly bright red
We ride together in a Denali
If you need a ride, I will say in advance pardon my dolly
She has seen more places than a band on tour
Everyone is familiar with her each time we enter a store
My girlfriend feels threatened by her, her name is Molly
But each day I politely tell her, pardon my dolly


Details | Free verse | |

To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern,
I found a way to learn,
To set fire and let burn,
All the money I did earn....

It was easy as heck to do,
If you wish, I'll show you...
How to do it too,
You'll know this all is true,

In no time, it would take,
So, for heaven's sake,
I'll show you fast to make,
A pile of money bake.....






Details | Free verse | |

Penguin Poet

 Penguin Poet 
Penguin Poet 
 
The Batman was standing to the side of the bumbershooter looking askance at 
the penguins' aide so intent was the man in the plastic wrapper that he failed to 
see Robin coming up behind them and lost his nanner in a Robin manner he 
was soon tied up like a handcuff furrowing into the background noises of the 
Penguin lair the hair of the penguin was slick jetted black ebon nighttime fright 
and he launched a bird kick almost getting Batman in the jaw Robin came 
unglued and he is rally very strong he launched another bird kick in the belly of 
the thug. 
 
 WHAM Whack Thwack POW SOCK WHAM the fight was soon over and the 
Penguin land in jail. 
 



Details | Rhyme | |

Mixed Feelings

Its funny how things work  like kids watching T.V. 
      and little 2 year olds counting to 33
Its funny how things work police as blind as can 
      and people on the street corner killing the minority 
Its funny how things work how people want me to have the need to sell weed 
      and all those pot asking me for that green 
Its messed up how moms and pops cant be together
       and how they cant get along but all i want us to do is stick together and be
strong 
     


Details | Rhyme | |

Clown Poet

He had a way with words, 
       spoken or written,

       could clown around with them, 
              could leave you smitten,

              but he could be most sober, 
                     and somber, too,

                     and leave you with a hybrid 
                            point of view.


Beneath a tree, his epitaph 
       winks at me:

        "Lachrymose don't be,  
               this isn't  tragedy,

               you should've seen my dad 
                      doing comedy,

                      well, apples fall near the tree 
                             where I pee."




Details | Burlesque | |

Master Craftsman, Tom

Back a couple of years ago,
My friend Rosie bought
her daughter, a
"Ready To Assemble"
 six drawer white melamine chest

Now, of course, I was chosen
For it's assembly,
Even with fingers part frozen,
I sat on the floor,
Opened all the parts,
Oh, an easy enough chore!!

My reward a six pack of beer,
Which I kept very near,
Chuggin' as my work does progress,
I started creating one hell of a mess

Well, some three hours later,
My head now all a'buzz
I finished my appointed task,
Oh, how easy it really was!!!

Well I offficially presented 
my treasured work,
Until we all did notice,
That I was quite a jerk...

The chest tilted at a 25% angle,
A couple of cracked knobs, did jangle,
The drawers all a'skew
Gaps on one side,
The other one far more true,

A host of superfluous bonus parts,
Left over when I was done,
Is there supposed to be 2 chests?
Or just that only one

It was neigh all but impossible
To use these useless drawers,
The whole thing teethering
And, just what was the cause?

Well, it wound up on the curb,
Merely new garbage and wasted time,
Yet no one availed themselves of it,
The waste was such a crime

So if you need a handyman,
A jack of all trades, than you,
Can call on dear old tom,
For but a six pack of brew.


Details | Nonet | |

Cliché

Cliché is my editor’s only 
enemy. He lives, entirely 
his own life, upon the sea 
of muses where this C-
word is not to be 
used by any 
editor 
just like 
me


Details | ABC | |

Harrison's Ford (

My ride broke down again yesterday
I guess until I can afford to have it fixed, I will thumb my way
I don't want to lose my job, so I can't miss work
Missing days upsets my boss, that's one of his quirks
If I make through Friday, I will pop a cork
I got a ride today in Harrison's Ford
Quite the ride, smells like used diapers
It began to rain, windshield blurry, no wipers
The seat was a park bench welded to the floor
All we're missing is feeding the Pigeons in Harrison's Ford
He talked non-stop about everything that wasn't  important at all
He's a safe driver, so he pulled over to make a call
He started telling the person on the phone the same thing he just told me
Then he talked about his water on the knee
At guess getting to work is at his own accord
It is a torturous event riding in Harrison's Ford
This excursion caused me to be late
A journey of pleasure? This is a debate
I am going to leave before sunrise to ensure I won't be late
Walk the distance or use my pair of roller skate
Or cut across the lake on a boogie board
Whatever it takes to avoid a ride in Harrison's Ford


Details | ABC | |

Leap Year

Boss, being as this is leap year
and Feb 29th is an extra day
do I have to work tomorrow?
tomorrow being an EXTRA day

He says,  take your appeal 
to the big man upstairs
he invented 365 days
and these pesty leap years

With all due respect, I reply
I thought it was the Greek culture
Not the the big man upstairs
that invented "time" as we know it

(I didn't REALLY say that, I just thought it)

BUT, I say, it's an EXTRA day
kinda like SATURDAY?
do you expect me to work
SATURDAY?

So he says, look at it this way
most months are 30 or 31 days long
so really, you are working a short month
only 29 days long

I have to admit
this crap makes sense
so I give up my appeal
concerned that I might
if I don't keep quiet
end up owing money in the deal





Details | Rhyme | |

Dishes

Ok one poem,
Then to work for me.
I felt guilty this morning,
Then I broke down,
 And washed my dishes.
I thought I would drown.
The plate wasn’t so bad,
Nor was the spoon,
But the pan lid and pan,
Sung a different tune.
I got in there and did it,
I was bound and determined.
It took less than a minute,
To my good fortune.
It seemed an eternity,
To get this job done,
Is not where I wanted to be,
It was not much fun.
The water was so hot,
That the grime couldn’t riot,
Next time You come over,
Then you can try it.


Details | I do not know? | |

Cellophane bags

(This is a fictional poem)
When I was a child, I ordered action figures through the mail.
They sent them in cellophane bags and I always caught hell.
I removed the action figures and threw away the bags.
Instead of being trusted, I was constantly nagged.
Mom found some of the cellophane bags when she looked in the trash.
Dad went through my things because he thought I had drugs stashed.
They checked my body for needle marks, they even looked between my toes.
I told them that I didn't take drugs but they wouldn't let it go.
Dad said that I had to be spanked.
He said it would hurt now but one day he'd be thanked.
He put me over his knee and slapped my rear.
I had a porcupine in my pants and it drove Dad to tears.
My parents constantly hounded me during my youth.
They never believed me even though I was telling the truth.
During my prom, I was grounded instead of spanked.
Dad couldn't go to work for days because of the sugar I poured in his gas tank.
When my parents found my flea powder, they thought it was cocaine.
They handcuffed me to the bed and poured it down the drain.
They still think I'm a drug user even though I work for the DEA.
They won't believe me no matter what I say.


Details | Lyric | |

What It Be Like Bro

Arising early each morning
I glance toward you.
Asking myself this question
Can this be true?

Am I deserving
of this mess I see?
Can you not just once
be flattering to me?

You stare at me and
though declining to say.
I know you'll return
What I give you this day.

Though I'm complementing seeking
You're truthful with me.
Being painfully honest
as only you could be.

While pointing out flaws
as i shave and dress.
You also let me know
that my hair is a mess.

I just smile and wink
thinking this might work.
But your message to me
brush your teeth, you big jerk.

You're hard and critical
but come what may.
I'm the head of this house
I'll have the final say.

A flip of the switch
and I'm on my way.
Leaving you alone
to face the wall all day.

In reality, if I look so-so
or maybe a mess.
You always see and return
No more or no less.

As all others see me
to myself you will show.
For when facing a mirror
"That's what it be like Bro


























































Arising early each morning
I glance toward you.
Asking myself this question,
can this be true?

Am I deserving
of the mess I see?
Can you not just once
be flattering to me.

You stare at me and
though declining to say.
I know you'll return
what I give you this day.

Though I'm complement seeking
you're truthful with me.
Being painfully honest
as only you could be.

While pointing out flaws
as I shave and dress.
You also let me know
that my hair is a mess.

I just smile and wink
thinking this might work.
But your message to me
brush your teeth, you big jerk.

You're hard and critical
but come what may.
I'm the head of this house
I'll have the final say.

A flip of the switch
and I'm on my way.
Leaving you alone
to face the wall all day. 

In reality, if I look so-so
or maybe a mess.
You always see and return
no more or no less.

As all others see me
to myself you will show.
For when facing a mirror
"That's what it be like Bro."

























































































































































Details | Free verse | |

What I Did With Summer

Roasted my back hanging over eaves on a scalding rooftop.
Painted, drove, had sex.
Slowly replaced my blood with a hitest mixture
Of caffeine and ephedrine.
Painted, drove, daydreamed about sex.
Watched the sun burn up the grass from bluedust skies.
Painted, drove, bought girlie mags & read about sex.
Missed the kids, yet was often vexed by their demands when home.
Painted, drove, sucked beers in the dead of night
By the wordprocessor - & wrote about sex.
Learned how to watch girls from the rearview mirrors.
Painted, drove, had friends over & talked about sex.
Bought a house, indentured myself to the year 2020.
Painted, drove, had some more sex.

Lesson One: The path to success is long and thorny.
Lesson Two: Stress and stimulants make me horny.

Resolution: Next year, in matters pertaining to screwing,
My motto will be: "Less thinking, More doing."


Details | Narrative | |

Yard Sales

We started the day bringing stuff out,
an old worn out chair, and a matching couch.
Stuff we don't use, and stuff we don't like,
those old rusty wheel covers, and that bent up bike.
Two broken lamps, that have no shades,
and a table with scratches, you made.
Clothes by the tons, who wore them all,
some too tight, and some too short.
Look at the shoes, did I really wear them all,
ugly is not the word, I really had gall.
Pots, and pans, ugh, they are a mess,
I need new ones, I must confess.
Left over junk, from family, and friends,
always at my house, they seem to land.
Yard sales are work, but I love them, I do,
maybe next week, I'll be seeing you.


Details | Free verse | |

These Meetings

My Esteemed Comrades,
Fellow devotees of the Sacred Process -
It feels as though I've never left,
             As though we've always been here
             Around a table
             Inside a room
                                        No windows     No doors

Our collective voice falls on my ears
With all the pleasantry
Of sheet metal being slowly torn apart.

We have moved with all the expedition
Of snails racing across arctic tundra mudflats.

Our work is as relevant
As the growth of our toenails.

Our decisions as meaningful
As Babylonian algebra.

Our goals as clear as anyone's could be,
Before their Thorazine wears off.

This has been as much fun for me
As licking salt with a papercut tongue.

                I've grown to love these meetings;
                They define my life.
                I even dream of them.
               They are my answer to the great Koan of the Void.

So when I die,
Fill my emptied veins with coffee black as space.
Call a meeting with Supreme Chair God,
To discuss the agenda of my DNA -
Record the Minutes of my life,
Weigh their worth against the sands of time,
Submit them for Review and Approval
To the Creation Committee
Before the universe implodes and the whole thing starts again -

Establish Rules of Order for the Ritual Dance,
The Alpha and Omega Circle of Proceedure,
For the Beginning of the End of the End of the Beginning
Of the 
               Next
                           Eternal
                                            Meeting!


Details | Rhyme | |

Itches

Itches are like fleas. Always trying to bother me. Itches,they are so confused not 
knowing what to do. So they will continue to bother you.

Itches like to fuss and fight . They find this  type activity a delight. Itches become 
blue when they can't get next to you. Itches come in many different degrees, 
bringing discord among the saints and the ain'ts.

There is no specific shape, size or color.There's no reason or rhyme to their 
madness. The ultimate goal is to bring confusion and sadness.

An itch could be me and it could be you .You don't have to be a female to know 
this is true.An itch can never be satisfied at anyones's happiness(that abides 
inside).

An itch has a job to do and that's to bother you.Take your pick at which type of itch 
it will be emotionally,financially,it's just a start you see.Itches range from A to Z, 
but when you pick your itch, choose carefully.

Itches don;t come to stay, they go away and come another day.Itches come to 
make you pray .The more you pray determines the stay. So, pray away your itch 
today so you can grow and be on you way.

Complaining about an itch will make you blue and others  around  you.You know 
what to do so don't allow the itch to control you.

You know that the itch has a job to do, so don't do you ! Pray through!


Details | Free verse | |

Gal Friday

Some quizative soul,
Wanted to know about that phrase...
Simple enough...
Nothing to leave you a'daze...

See, Friday in the office...
Is the end of the week...
So you gotta make sure...
That your secret don't leak...
Like her calling you at home...
Creating quite a stir...
Your wife now demanding...
If there's something going on,
with her...
So on Friday you tend...
To treat your girl Friday
extra good....
Say the right words...
Doing all that you could....
To keep her sated all
weekend...
You don't want her to become...
Another Mother Hen...
So if you're a wife,
And Hubby dresses
His best each Friday...
Just take the big hint...
And here's what to say....

"You dirty @^^q$$+(!g&...
That seems quite succinct,
And let him know for sure...
You're in power,,
The pens inked...
He'd better show up
on Monday...
With candy, flowers,
and a big raise...
Or you'll bop him one good,
And leave him adaze!!


Details | Bio | |

The P. I.- a true story!!

it was the afternoon of
Tuesday, Sept. 26, 1972-
I was a simple college student,
and budding musician....
I was lounging about,
recording thoughts in my journal

1:15 Pm- (imagine, if you will, and can,
the old T.V. show:Dragnet)
my phone rang...
Sgt. Friday wasn't there,
so I picked it up.....

it was an old friend, Bob B.........
"hello!" I said,
"hey Tom, I got a job for you!!!"
"oh, yeah, what??" I queried....

"Private Detective."
it seemed, from his tone, that
this was a perfectly normal
and rational request....

my gaffaw was my choice
over gagging on my soda-
it burst out of my mouth
all over the room.....

(just the facts, ma'am...just the facts!!)

now I knew he was a little strange,
and, believe me, so am I, but....

this was total insanity!!

he told me a woman where he works wanted a P.I.
to locate her child...and she was willing to pay well...

weird? Bob is insane!!!
he told her I was a private detective,
and she would be calling me shortly
to work out the specifics.....

Private Detective!!!!!
Ho, Ho, Ho!!!
Ha, Ha, Ha!!!

weirdest sh__ I'd ever heard of....
good for a laugh though

I had to tell the poor lady
my case load was already
overbooked...and just look
in the yellow pages....
I felt sorry for her, and I'd never
rip anyone off....

and so my career as a detective
was short lived....but not the 
laughs it gave me for a long time.....


Details | I do not know? | |

Freezing (2002)

It’s the middle of October and I went to work on the bus,
All day at work I made a rioting fuss.
Its bloody freezing and the heatings not on,
The sense in my hands is completely gone,
I moaned and moped around as my nose dripped,
My feet were curly and I nearly tripped.
In my lunch hour I went to the hardware store,
I brought a fan heater and ran out the door,
As soon I got in the hustle and bustle I became warmer,
So I took the heater home and remembered my trauma
Yesterday the other heater blew up on me,
So my impulse just acted accordingly

Written after finishing a long shift at MK1