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Age Work Poems | Age Poems About Work

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

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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 | Free verse | |

The Picture Converter

The Picture Converter
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the ED NOTE it was the symbols 

 The Picture Converter 
http://storypen.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?
poemnumber=381095&sitename=charlax&password=&poemoffset=0&displayp
oem=t&item=story 
The Picture Converter 
 
The Picture Converter 
 
  
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the 
OH wow this would not work until eye deleted the symbols in the word document 
The Picture Converter 
Eye was working and making copies of my poems to preserve the text and the 
pictures do not come with the words to rest in folders where eye place the text so 
the very first thing that eye want all the newly wedded student graduates to do is 
make me an internet picture converter that works. Make the picture into the text 
the hay ref and the IMG thing that works so well in all my forums and lay it on the 
right page margin next to all the poem words that eye must save and then when 
eye copy and past this thing again let it emerge as pictures once again to rule the 
poetry page to come back to image land to actually be a picture once again to 
make the poem bleed the picture converter will have an icon of its own please 
feel free to use the charlax one my image is still free eye love the poetry and the 
pictures and the banners just add so much to all the words a little story place a 
little story made a little story gold when poems rule the world only poets will be 
old. 




Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Quatrain | |

Women

You women
Know how to make 
The best of what you've got in you
You do it everyday in your life


Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13


Details | Prose | |

2009: My Senior Year

  The first day of school I had not yet come to grips with what being a senior was. To me, this was just another year and another grade level. One day, when I was on my way to school, it hit me that this was my last August and my last September not only in this academy, but in high school. This was my last leg of the race and my last time making memories here. A new beginning of my life is waiting for me not in years, but in just a few months. 



                                               





                                                   ©2013 Honestly JT

Note: My English teacher gave us an assignment to start writing about our life experiences so that one day we could possibly have autobiographies of our own.


Details | Rhyme | |

Eyes of Seminary

Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook

Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.

Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.

Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.

Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.


Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.


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 | Light Poetry | |

When I Grow Up

"When I Grow Up"


When I was five, I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I told them I wanted to be a princess.

When I was eight, I wanted to be a waitress.

When I was twelve: a teacher.

When I was sixteen: a doctor.

Now when asked what I want to be in the near future,

I know exactly how to respond.

I want to be happy.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Rain and Wind

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








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 | Lyric | |

Envy

A day in the country

I went to the country
To see my Bro's Land
I saw he had worked hard
His land looked so grand
For a second this envy
It tapped on my soul
But then I looked deeper
Saw things as a whole!

I looked at his features
All the lines on his face
Not character lines
Those lines that add grace
Just sad saggy lines
From worry and stress
There was naught in his manner
That read happiness.

I’m a loser to his type
I have no ambition
I live for today
He lives for his mission
But I have a smile
And a generous heart
While he, how I see him
Is a grumpy old fart.

10 August 2013 @ 1700hrs


Details | Ghazal | |

Lost


How a poet mess up a
verse to fright,
Deep inside but no
time to vet lost,

On the dark shadowy
paths, nothing has
caught,
As we observe sun
rise and set lost,

How ridiculous it
is, chore day to
night,
You would not be
immortal, a mere het
lost,

Spell what’s a
thing, what’s thee
height,
Mortal everything,
mortal net lost,

Here you will be
allegedly call a
polytheist,
For which you
sentenced gibbet
lost,

Soldier and
commander same
ambition to fight,
Rear one got fame,
and frontier get
lost,

The criminal, who
denies the
hypocrite,
Here I there you,
only a pretext lost,

Wonder If I be bosom
in just a blink
sight,
As river intrude
silently to sea and
met lost,

The journey
commences or stopped
in plight,
Go ahead, above, up,
So never get lost.

As wishes won’t come
true till death
arrive at site,
Shahid no way to
escape, will you pet
lost.

Shahid Hussain
Chouhdry


Details | ABC | |

12-14-12

Just a day
“Good Night Mom and Dad” I said before I went to bed. “We love you” they said as they closed the door
Mom comes in and wakes me up “Time to go to school” as my feet hit the floor
I got dressed and ate breakfast and got my book bag and now we are on the go
We sit in the car listening to music “It’s Friday I think I’m a little excited tho
“Alright baby we here” as mom open the door to let me get out
She closed the door and kissed me on the head told me she loved me before she pulled off
Another day of school and it close to Christmas
I can’t wait to see Ashley and Alexus, today is show and tell as I said in a whisper
We had learning center day and Boy! Was it fun!
Today was a free day and on Friday there isn’t much to learn
The room was quite when the was a knock at the door, the door opened
A man with a big gun was standing there; my classmates panicked and started to run
I heard a lot of noises and a lot of screams
I felt a sharp pain in my back as I dropped to my knees
In the distant I heard more screams and then everything went silent
Then I closed my eyes it went dark and on the cold floor I was dying
The other side
It’s Thursday night and off to bed we go 
I kiss my 5 year old son Jaden and told him I loved him so
Alarm clock goes off and it’s around 6:15 in the morning 
I shower got dress and woke up Jaden my little darling
Its Friday, I fixed him breakfast and we headed out for the this last day until the weekend
I enjoyed our little drives to school as we sat in the car singing
I opened the door to let him out once more
Kissed him on the head and told him I loved him ill pick him up around four
I’m at work drinking coffee just talked to my husband on the phone
Got at my desk started to work and the my office phone rung
It’s about 9:30 and it was Jaden’s school
I got the news he was dead and I started to puke
I’m crying uncontrollably don’t know my next move
My son is dead, I can’t believe this news
I hurried to the school in the best of my ability 
I saw the school surrounded by medics, reporters, and police
I ran to a officer and demanded to see my son
He said “I’m sorry ma’am” I can’t do this at this time
At 9:32 my one and only son Jaden was pronounced dead
The shooter was 20 and took my son’s life in his own hands
The questions continue to flow through my head as I search for answers
I don’t need answers I need my son and his laughter
I am now sitting on his bed trying to swallow tears
My husband holds me close as reality nears
My little boy is gone among the other 19 kids
Heaven has 20 new angels now I hope he knew how much I love him  as much as  I did

R.I.P
(To the innocent lives that were lost in the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting)
12-14-12



Details | Free verse | |

They're Watching You

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

Henchmen rob bank,
two officers killed,
change channel.

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

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

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

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

Watching,
survalling,
like a camera.

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

School teachers,
police,
FBI and CIA
Always watching you.

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Epic | |

Statutory Rape 101

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


Details | Rhyme | |

Rowdy Racecar

ZOOOOOOOMING speedily…
Tires squeaking from exhaust… high in volume 
Racecar spews out smoke…
Blinding the eyes of a thousand fans

Blooming havoc…
Explosions avalanche downwards 
Racecar drives fast and furiously 
Awesome feelings launch through me
Projecting panic and twisted bliss  

Catching the audience’s full attention…
Tension between challengers increase
Who could stand in their way… not even the coaches
Racecar screeches on the racing street…
Ain’t this competition neat? Come! Take a seat!
This event is brilliant – it’s such a treat!

Producing thrill or disappointment…
Car organs, fragments, shards, remains, limbs, veins 
Spurts out in flames… flying at every possible direction 
Countless racecars… barely functions – this scene is extremely horrendous!

Yet, the victories are gracious!
Vibrant applauses and thanksgiving triggers enlightening cheer
Have no fear!!! 
The moment is ever so precious!

Racecar…you make so much racket and suspense!
Rowdiness is in your nature…who will pay the expense??


Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.








Details | Light Poetry | |

Lady Cop in a SUV

The other day I was a cruising, right on down the street.
And I did spy a cop car, plainly marked, yes, an SUV.
Now I would swear that I really saw a Lady Cop inside.
A Lady Cop inside an SUV? Yes, that’s what I really saw.

Now that’s a really tough job, even, at the best of times.
And I don’t want to make fun of women, in this work line.
I’m sure they must be tougher than all the rest, to get respect.
They probably work their tails off, for promotions, theirs to get.

And I sure doubt I would get a pass on any tickets, either, to be true.
I just can’t shake the image, of a soccer mom, my mind keeps going to.
I know it’s wrong… I know… I know… this I really… shouldn’t say…
But I feel it’s right to call her a ‘Soccer Mom Cop’, some how, this way.

I know… I know… But ‘Soccer Mom Cop’ keeps rolling, in my head.
And God help me, she may not understand, if she hears, what I just said.
All I hope is she won’t hunt me down, to lavish tickets, in recompense.
But I mean it, in the nicest way; though to you, it may not make any sense.


Details | I do not know? | |

Marriage is Sacred and Binding

If I knew then what I know now
My marriage would be bliss. 
What I’m about to say you won’t 
Want to miss. Marriage is for life,
Till death each will part, through 
Sickness health, and adversities,
Think twice before you make a start.

Marriage is sacred and binding
It is God’s plan from the start.
No longer me nor I, we both share
The pie. Ordained by the father the
Almighty on high.

We are unique, a work of art, yet not perfect
 Just a work in progress. Follow it through
And in the process, taste victories stand the test.
Don’t throw in the towel, when things don’t
Seem right, stand up to the challenge and don’t
Give up the fight.

Show love and affection, communicate 
Just to name a few. Once part of my experience
And the essentials I failed to do. Tell her that 
You love her, even if said a hundred times before,
Stop the enemy in his tracks, don’t leave an open door.

Teeth and tongue will bite an old phrase and 
So very true. Again I’m not perfect I don’t 
Know about you? Now it’s paramount that my 
Marriage, last come hell or high water,
I’m in for the journey, the long haul, no
Time to falter.   



Please note: I do believe there are great marriages
And individuals who are very happily married, but
Let’s face reality; sadly some do not always blossom
for whatever reasons. My poetry are based on my life 
experiences, and not geared at any one.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

HELP HER UP

written 2nd Aug 2013



This life is not as it should be
 pick up your wife, can't you see 

You're her husband, stand up!
 give her a reason, to again believe

She means 'everything'....to this family
 shutting the door leaving her totally... Alone

Do you actually know her at all...
 damaging her heart and soul, deep within it's cold

Loneliness consumes her, it's been so long
 it must be asked...do you still love her?

Are you willing to help her to her feet again?
 or shall you sit back and watch, as she see's the end

This is completely left for only you, her husband to declare
 how much does she really mean to you...do you still care?

Will you step up, or let her rot into total depression, you see it...
 Love and care, or death and dispirit

It's all up to you!
 Her loving husband, what will you do.....


Details | Free verse | |

LOST LOVE in Aussie slang

written 3rd Oct 2013



I was in love with the most lovable sheila
 but she did darn take off with me heeler

Overnight, she had packed their bags
 not just me dog, gone too with me scallywags

Left with just a simple note
 she had found a more loving bloke

Heartbroken to have lost them all
 I gave me mate Bluey a call

Together we drank more than just a slab
 ending up so hammered, he called us a cab

As the lonely days passed and tears filled me eyes
 by crikey it hit me, suddenly I came to realise

What a bloomin idiot, she deserved such love and respect
 every night boozin with me mates, my true love I did neglect

I'm gunna cut me drinkin and win her heart back
 fair dinkum fella's, you can flamin bet on that!


Details | Blank verse | |

SLUM DWELLERS

Rapid urbanisation of the last century
causes more slums to mushroom
in the major cities of the world
particularly in developing countries.
Unplanned townships make it difficult 
for government to plan for better
service delivery such as roads,
electricity,health,water and sanitation.
Local planning authorities should halt 
illeagal allocation of land which leads 
to the proliferation of slums.
Government should keep planning 
for the poor;and must find better 
solutions of phasing out slums
which have characterised many
towns and cities of the world.
And slums lie on a GOLDMINE
(PRIME LAND)which can 
generate great wealthy
for poorer communities.

chipepo lwele
29/01/2013


Details | Personification | |

REAP YOUR GOLDEN FRUITS

A sunshine behind every darkness 
In the end, we will reach success 
There's a rainbow behind every tear 
Face thy tomorrow with no fear 

The shades of hope are seen from above 
Out of those beast of struggles that we have 
Embarking to defeat the unfair reality 
There's a daredevil in ones identity 

Prejudice exists everywhere 
Turn thy back as if thee won't care 
Let the karma drag them to hell 
They couldn't escape even if they keep on hiding from their shell 

Enjoy as you reap your golden fruits 
Determination,courage and faith are the roots 
Responsive truth as you feel the rain 
Believe in God's plan and let us exalt his name :)


BY : JOYZEL MAE P. SOTES
August 5, 2014


Details | Rhyme | |

MOGULS

Justice of a beautiful woman is that of a model.
She may just be a Christian whore.
In five inches high hills, she does the Catwalk.
Her asymmetrical body spins in Prada blend.
She smiles and saunters entertainingly.
She is powerful.
She is a mogul.
Justness of a handsome man is that of a beautiful model.
Even in his sexual identity, he does the catwalk.
In Berluti loafers, he strolls as just another beau in a fashion show.
The designers place him tersely.
He becomes a baller and shot caller in the fashion industry.
He is magnate.
He is dynast.
In the entertainment world, life meanders.
The portrait that is viewed is of a fashion model.
She gleams in sketch.
His sheen is imaged.
__________________________/
Penned May 21, 2014!


Details | Narrative | |

AFRICA REVOLUTION 1

I believe my words meets you in good  state of mind
 and health
Do you believe africa can become a better continent?
 If so,how?
Young pepole must change their attitude__any part
 of their mindset holding them back!
If so,they should set goals to improve their behaviour
 and find solutions to challenges facing africa.
Young people must work twice as hard to make africa
 a better continent:
We have no time to waste but to make this continent
 that the LORD gave us a better place for
  future generations.
Our children must be able to hit the ground running
 to get somewhere meaningful.
We must work wholeheartedly in order to transform static
 policies since we got independence!
Africa should not be the only continent in the world where 
 outsiders find cheap commodities and slaves 
  to improve their economies!
That backwater theory must change,something beautiful 
 needs to happen very quickly!
Spectators have portrayed africa's reign as a missed
 opportunity to tackle problems___
A yawning rich-poor gap to stiffly politics
 and controversial policies__
That africa's collective leadership have been too timid 
 to implement good governance policies
  because of remote controlled influence!
Something wonderful must happen to our mindset__
Europe or America did not develop in one day!
And technology did not fall from heaven___
 but it was invented and innovated.
Where africa cannot create,let us buy advanced 
 green technology,
to make rock-solid industriariazation
I believe,africa's economy can grow to become among
 the world's largest economies___
And our per capita income can quituple!

chipepo lwele
*To my fellow africans both living in africa or outside africa


Details | Limerick | |

A Girl On A Mission

              A Girl On A Mission

There once was a gal who sold china

Tested rockets in her vagina

She sat on one hard though

It made her a martyr

Blasting her & her china to China 


                                                           6/24/14 Bawdy Limericks II Contest


Details | Light Poetry | |

Typewriter

When I was little my mother and father took me to my grandparents place
The reason was they had school and work so they dropped me off and took haste
My grandmother who was always writing had brought out a case
I always wondered what it was that made her heart beat in an odd pace

Little I did not know what she was smiling so much about
So I watched her run around making snacks all out
I was little and about to touch the case, but I heard a shout
When I heard her she had a look that made me pout

My grandmother smiled and said to me that machine was special to her
But what was that machine because it was odd looking, for sure
As a little child nothing looks more interesting than a new figure
Finally she sat down with me by her side and a cup of coffee to stir

With a big smile she told me a story and first it was on paper
As she spoke I heard her voice with ticks and taper
I could not concentrate because of sounds and I was looking at her 
She spoke with kind words and words that I will know in the future

I giggled when she said a word, because it made several noise I heard
My grandmother smiled at me and really knew that I like the sounds that occurred
Little things are not so little she smiled and looked at her coffee and stirred
She pointed at the machine with paper rapped in it with a pattern that lured

As she spoke to me I watched it snap at the paper with precision
I was kinda amuse on her finger making a quick decision
The machine was so fast and her fingers was too, I could not use my vision
She was so happy to see that I was starting to understand the occasion

After a while I got bored and she put me down on the floor
She kept smiling and making music beyond the door
When it stopped I felt empty some how to the core
She stopped it was just because she could not find words no more

I ask grandmother what is that machine you are using as I was griping
Grandmother why wont you play with me as I was smiling
She said that she was doing some stuff, I guess she was not done working
But the thing was she was so happy as she said the machine is a Typewriter for typing


 


April 18, 2013


Details | Rhyme | |

What's Happening to Marriages Today

What’s Happening to Marriages Today?

I was listening to someone just the other day…
And I couldn’t believe what he had to say!

He had left his wife and children for another!
She was young enough to be his daughter!

Here they were, “in love” and holding hands!
Hoping to soon, get their “wedding bands!”

They were pretending that this was so “cool.”
Living now by their own “set of rules!”

How sick and disgusting this is getting to be!
Is this something that many can’t see?

God gave us Adam and Eve to become one.
To bear fruit through daughters and sons!

He gave us marriage as holy vows are made.
Not to march in an “adulterous parade!”

We are treading on very dangerous ground!
Faithfulness and commitment 
are scarcely found!

The very definition of marriage is changing!
As the family unit is always rearranging!

Our only hope is in Jesus!  And him alone!
Let’s promote his love! Into our hearts and home!

Let’s allow his love to be our heart’s glue!
And bring new meaning to the words; “I love you!”

May his love bind our hearts and lives together!
And remain faithful to each other forever!

By Jim Pemberton    


Details | Free verse | |

Check It Out Yourself

Come to see what I have found out on Poetry Soup
I just found out that ‘Categories’ box has been improved
Wherein more interesting stuffs to choose from have now been included
I just found another one
It’s the HTML guideline or note embedded 
Immediately below the ‘Poem title’ box
And above the ‘Poem Text’ region
Immediately before the space provided 
For the typing of your poems
You will see an instructive text 
Telling you about how to customize or format
Your poem using one or more of the HTML’s tag
Three tags are currently available and are all allowed
It includes ‘< e m >’   at the beginning and    ‘ < / e m > ’ 
At the end of the portion of the poem you wish to format.
This is for ‘italics’. 
The one for ‘bold’ and ‘center’ tags are
‘< b > < / b> ’   and   ‘< center > < / center >   respectively.
You can use them for the whole poem
Or one for a stanza, a line or an expression…
Within the poem if you like
Try them now and see it yourself
They’re meant for you and me.

Check it out yourself: 
http://www.poetrysoup.com/member_area/submit_poems.aspx

Note: You won't space anything tag at all. I applied space because the system is so sensitive to each instruction.


Details | Free verse | |

John Stonehouse MP

A man who left his country
A man who left his ties
A man who left his duty
A man free

O the advantage of perceived death,
Of being remembered for something you were not
A martyr, an untrue character, an untrue man. 

The man is found
The man is taken
The man is guilty
But of what?

Bereft of responsibility
A man is chained 
A man empty of soul
A man called Stonehouse.


Details | Tanka | |

Namaste namasti

Teaching what I learnt
From heroes and 
heroines-
The known and 
unknown
I owe each each of you 
hugs
Which I know are not 
worthless.

-Haiku-
Namaste my gems-
Smashing spread and 
light my pen.
Shalom to you all.


Details | I do not know? | |

Timeless

Many speak of courage and the dragons that they meet

But what of the dragon within, deep within the deep

A beast so terrifying, it’s made many a strong man weep

No flames bursting from its maw

Instead a song so captivating it lulls you to sleep

All other dragons are scales in its hide

One must enter its lair alone and bow at its feet

You must respect its power before you draw your sword

Because once you stab its heart you in turn pierce your own

Mustering this kind of courage is no easy feat

By killing the dragon you also kill yourself

You are reborn in the womb of wombs

You awake to the world humbled and renewed

For it's embracing the truth of this beast
That allows you the clarity to recognize peace


Details | Monorhyme | |

Forty Six Years of Work

Lots of praise, but little respect,
So many days, what do they expect?
My job is a maze, to serve and protect.
It hardly pays, last time I checked.
Into past I gaze, hardly time to reflect.
Could have gone many ways, why select,
My choice displays, too late to defect.
Myself I amaze, or does it infect.
Setting soul ablaze, leaving it unchecked.
Was it just a phase, or did I overprotect.
I now have malaise, in complete misdirect.
Retirement delays, takes the toll to intersect.
I gained a little praise, without any respect.



written for
Put Your Best Rhyme Forward!!!!! Free Poetry Contest

written by
Cecil Hickman

date written
12-07-13


Details | Rhyme | |

Fire - Of Ancient Origins

     Fire – Of Ancient Origins

Anthropological dawning’s
Cave walls with lit magic drawings 
Of firestorms                                         

Sacred mystical deity
Cavemen prayed with fidelity
For firelights

Their children delighted and grew
History ignited the fuse
On fireworks


Created by: Earl Schumacker on 11/19/14  for - Fire, Earth, Wind, - Poetry Contest
(Theme is – Fire)


Details | Free verse | |

Little Green People's Work Is Never Done

          Little Green People’s Work Is Never Done

Life calls on little green people, to work, to continue
As everyone else sleeps in
Hiding from the corporate comatose leader 
Normal people rise, at a later date, from beds dead tired
Smiles crack on faces; lines move along the traces of old age 
And breaks the new dawned day wide open
You can’t count on little green people for anything
They work for nothing.  They work for free
They cut trees down in forest with their teeth 
Place them into piles for safe keeping
And by the way
Arrive from outer space from other planets to take our place
Little green people take our jobs
I know this can’t be done
They have no work permits
Their visas have expired 
They must line up to be deported as per orders
You can’t count on little green people 
Without proper documents
It is illegal 
They never sleep but hang out inside of freezers
Or cold, in wooden boxes, toxic beyond their borders
Catch colds, catch fire with the trees
To burn the forest down
Pretend to weep, pretend they don’t have matches
Call it an accident as they move from house to house
No one keeps the peace and secrets like little green people
You can count on that
They press their little green suits with tiny irons
And eat their greens.  They even kiss your feet
Some pray for peace in churches
Just like the rest of us
Little green people will never move back home 
Work is finished there
Their suns burnt out
But other work still needs to be completed
It continues on the foreign dawn


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 | Prose Poetry | |

The Seventh Fable

 The Seventh Fable 
The Seventh Fable 
 
Charlaxes Fables 
 
Mental Prefabrications 
 


People have preconceived ideas from Religion and Television 

combine these two ideas and no wonder everyone is mental. 

The Eye is just now thankful that the computer was not mine at age 14. The TV 
was enough to ruin me for life. It is no wonder that eye still don't have a life. 
Falling into cracks made just for me. Living in the NEW AGE causes so much 
uncertainty and problems we avoided in our past come back as daily necessities 
of the mass of useless protoplasmic mice eye once saw a man on the highway 
with a sign he was begging for more money to get some more useless wine so 
the people went zigging past avoiding him until he fell down on the ground it 
seemed to me he was passed out perhaps he died and no one buried him 
sounds like an episode of Twilight Zone. There was episodes eye will never 
forget the NOSE throbbing on the stairs inside the house the girl tried to leave the 
shelter of the fence once out she turned to dust the man with the wires in his arm 
seeing the oven where he was born the little airforce people in the GIANT 
woman's kitchen getting swept. 

It just occurred to me the ins and outs of celebrity imagine all the casting calls to 
make the episodes. AND the fact that Charlax was never chosen for even one of 
them seems sort of some kind of twisted justice the actors used were just the 
best of all the crème de le crème of all the hollywooded jest. Webseries Pilot 
casting call: 
The Charlax would be excellent at this OH wait look at that ethnic face. Male, 
open ethnicity, early to mid 30's - JG. Federal Agency Detective.  Good at his job, 
but fresh enough to still want to make a difference. Oh if eye were only Twenty 
Years different. A Twilight Zoned Detecative with the name Rick Roll selected and 
elected to be the actor of the myllineum. 
   


Details | Haiku | |

Can there be awakening - a Square Wheels Haiku

Slacker employees?
They work hard. Push with Square Wheels.
Spring awakening?


Details | Bio | |

Scrubs

A persona, a Title
A uniform, an assumed frame of reference
and a certain state of mind.

I was surprised
As i hit the down button
on a sinking ship
And re-learned how to swim again.

I can do it
This is what i was made for
I know, i can do it
Even if you have gym socks
That are older than i am.


Details | Free verse | |

Death Comes Calling

            When Death Calls

Death comes calling in the early morning
No one is at home
They have all gone fishing
Personally, I prefer doing the dishes
Cleaning the litter box
Darning sox
Those darn socks
I prefer doing that than being damned and dead
When death comes calling 


Details | Free verse | |

Fight

don’t
don’t throw me out 
into the garbage
people must keep fighting in this world
and I still have meat on my bones
and a few living cells in my head
and I am not yet fully dead
I still have some fight

I have too little time now
now to pray
during the day
or at night too
too little time 
at night now
now to pray or to fight
I must rest

when the time comes 
and I am fully spent
I will pray then
then that the time is not
not now to late 
to change my faith
and get there where
I will finally rest 

rest in peace 
for all time then
then there then when 
I am fully dead
 


Details | Rhyme | |

Boiled Brains

So finally
Age's shadow throws its cast
Time for some to live the past
And yet I have this silly quirk
I'd feel much better back at work
So rather than stay home and snooze
I'm back at work
No time to lose
And with a staged real happy face
I join once more the working race
Ignoring others ripe with cash
Doing little with their stash
Their burned out wives no longer stay
With boring mates to waste their day
So maybe my new life's not bad
Better busy
Then just sad.
Use your brain
It must be fed
Just move ahead
Get out of bed
New challenges will keep you strong
Don't waste these days
That's just plain wrong


Details | Free verse | |

Sheep's Work Is Never Done

            Sheep’s Work Is Never Done

Life calls after sheep in morning to continue
Everyone else sleeps in
Hiding from the corporate coma for awhile 
People rise, at a later date, from beds dead tired
Smiles crack on faces; lines move the traces of age around
And break the new dawned day wide open
You can’t count on sheep for anything
They cut wood down in forest 
Place it into piles
I know this can’t be done
They have no work permits
Their visas have expired 
They line up to be deported
You can’t count on sheep when sleeping either 
They wake up freezing cold in wooden homes
Catch colds, catch fire with the trees
To burn the forest down
Weep with matches hidden in the wool
Call it an accident
No one keeps the peace and secrets like death and sheep
You can count on that
Death takes everyone with it, with or without their visa
Sheep move back to their own countries 
Work is never done there either, but
To be continued


Details | Free verse | |

Dalliance With The Winter Birch

            Dalliance With The Winter Birch

Crystal glances at the brilliant blue 
Marching up there with blinding sun soaked sky
Clouds stream by 
They come apart in seams of wonder  
As the day begins to shine
Work waits there on the farm
A dalliance with winter wind and trees begin
White limbs swing limp, spring back again on birches
Firm roots, frozen earth, hold the hard wood down
I climb the highest branches there  
At 8:00 am farm chores start once again
They can wait for just a while longer
While all of nature sinks into the skin
As I figure out how to return
Somehow I got lost above the trees
Tangled in the maze of branches
Caught, never found, while climbing birches 
Never quite figured out
Which way was up or down 


Details | Free verse | |

To Kill The Choctaw Cow

           To Kill The Choctaw Cow

The Choctaw Nation Oklahoma, with proud and noble people
Hunting is our nature and our way
Pretty Tail was a family member, a friendly cow
She gave us milk for many moons
This is the story of her kill 
My father Bully Ten Foot is our chief 
Old and ill from living beyond himself
Hills and tent on prairie land, filled our purpose
No game to feed us so our cows sustained us
Food was scarce through winters blasting bite
Pretty Tail stayed just outside my tee pee every night 
Years of her soft moo would sooth me off to sleep
Starvation steeped in desperation came on hard 
Crops failed, grazing ended without rain
Pain became the Choctaw, as one and the same
An Indian man must always be a brave
Must know his reason within nature and the nation
Bully Ten Foot honored me, with the sacred task
My hunting knife and I took Pretty Tail down below the neck
I slit her deep within her throat
She bled on me her blood, a river of sorrow
For hours I let her do so with her last drops of red
And held her tight as my best friend
Made sure my tears spilled over into her blank eyes
And cried for her, in her place
Never again will I wear hide or eat a steak 
But I ate her brains for power
Rode at great speed on angry stallions back
Black, with strong memories in mind
And opened up inside the plains releasing spirits
To send her off
From Choctaw Nation 


9/24/14 Divine Intervention - Poetry Contest

  


Details | Rhyme | |

Changing Career at 30

There I was reaching thirty
just been widowed year before
now the work place was to close
redundancy now at my door

But friend told me of a vacancy
at local wholesalers for food buyer
so few months before work closing
went for interview before got fire

So got the job at wholesaler
made redundant on the Friday
start Monday as a buyer
in continued employment I did stay


Details | Verse | |

Rowing a Boat on Top of the World

The bay was smooth as glass
The sky was a crisp blue
The snow covered peaks stood
stark, gigantic, bold
and true.

My job was to row a boat,
to a raft of logs and tie one on,
and tow it to the pile driver
and dock crew while as yet the ships
were gone.

The oar was dipped into the dark sea,
and pulled with eddies slowly unfurled,
the log was moving with the steady strokes
of flashing oars in Alaska on top
of the world.

What a joy it was to be paid
to stretch my body at this glorious job,
mastering a row boat in the time of fax
and smart phones grasped somewhere
by a mob. 

A rush of wind riffles wavelets upon the bay
the heavy log strains the rope then yields
the unhurried course is plowed to Kenny
on the pile driver, eighty-five years old,
smoking Chesterfields.

Just in time the cable comes down
I loosen the half hitches and Kenny shouts,
“Keep 'er hot boy, keep 'er hot!” 
I snub the cable to the creosote log,
as daylight pouts.

I sit back to the oars for another trip,
but Kenny yells, “oh, it's almost coffee time,
get outta that boat!”  The workers drop
PV's , 3X12's, chain saws to stretch 
on the company's dime. 

We saunter to the chow hall for mug up
in the hush of the bay and its wavelets
nothing but the breeze, peaks and foxes
and us, the poets of Paradise headed
for crumpets.

The cook, a union member of the Merchant Marine,
fixed an abundant spread,
fruit juice, milk, hot chocolate, coffee,
cake and pastries baked fresh to
raise the dead. 


After forty-five minutes we struggled up
to get back to the tools of our trade,
I climbed back in my row boat,
settled to oars ready to pull
green from jade.

It was a race to finish the dock
for the ships to come and unload
cargoes of salt, food, building supplies,
for the wretched cannery, days went by and
I rowed.

Kenny called us to mug up 
and we dropped our tools and swirled
sugar in coffee and wolfed down pastries
slathered with butter in Alaska
on top of the world. 

It was late about dinner time
I rowed the last log to cable,
“Keep 'er hot boy, keep 'er hot!”
that the Sea Provider cleared Priest Rock
as if in a fable.

She came up the channel blasting her horn
as the pile driver gave a final hiss
the last plank was laid as she came along side
and threw bow line, stern line, spring line  to collective
bliss.




 


Details | Rhyme | |

Are You Having An Affair

I don't think many people 
are aware...
of the dangers of having 
"an affair."

Adultery begins with a lustful thought 
captured in the mind.
It's been part of sins's curse,
 since the beginning of time.

Many aren't sure how they're
 going to react.
Until the day they're caught
 in an adulterous act.

By this time... they're love for
 their spouse is broken.
When the words; "I love you"...
 to another... are spoken.

Soon... their home become 
"turned around" and divided.
As their commitment and loyalty 
become undecided.

The family soon become "
one huge mess..."
As the love "for another person" 
becomes "obsessed."

You may find yourself in this 
kind of situation.
Perhaps you're in 
 "deep desparation."

Run from this person as 
fast as your can!
Come to the cross and 
reach for Jesus' hand!

Confess your sin to your spouse
 and call on Jesus' name.
You have only yourself... 
no one else... to blame.

Allow Jesus to 100% be 
the Lord of your life.
As you brings you together 
as husband and wife!

Let him restore your marriage 
and make it complete.
Come to him now and 
lay your sin at his feet.

His love in your marriage is 
forever and binding!
His commitment to you is 
a love worth finding!

By Jim Pemberton  
2009



Details | Verse | |

GOETHE S PATH

GOETHE’S PATH Jake Castle placed a landmark. He was not on ordinary trip. His Goethe’s Path was rampart. In the forest, he trekked. ______________________| PENNED ON JUNE 15, 2014!


Details | Free verse | |

The Scholar of Dreams

Walking barefoot on spring grass,
Wallet stuffed into a shoe, socks in a pocket.
Nervous hands threaded with delicate sinew,
Spinning me stories of blue-eyed Belarus,
Weaving silken tapestries from literary dust.
That’s what we do here.
Steeped in archaic symbols and ideas,
Deciphering arcane runes,
Slaves to the books.
The hollows in your cheeks have deepened –
That’s where the library shadows fall,
Hiding below your Adam’s apple, lying sweetly
Heavy on each vocal chord.
Ink pulses bloodily in my veins, running
Into pretty webs in my wrists,
And my throat, sandpaper-dry, rasps
To drink it, cawing for
Knowledge – pain, shame, glory.


Details | Free verse | |

Green Back addict

                                                                 Green-back addict
Ambition is the keys to unlocking all the doors. Enthusiasm or courage can 
possibly put an end to world hunger. But let’s be honest, who need courage 
when you got that instant almighty dollar.Remember this: the “cowardly lion” 
don’t have to fight when he’s rolling in something with plush interior. That’s right!
I got my eye on business, your business that is. 

And don’t do me any favors; because I don’t want any type of paper, I want 
your “ye'pper”. The gross point of this is, love still don’t pay my bills.
Unless I can, Can it up and stock it on shelves for fools like you to buy it 
wholesale. I want you to turn me own.To you your stocks and bond,With me 
about your vivid dollar signs, I like to see it sprawled all out on table, in 
untraceable 20’s and 50’s.

It’s dirty, and it makes you fresh and clean, you’d want to be me. Day and night, 
anything else would be uncivilized. I’m true, I care  to spend your money, on 
clothes, pearls, at fast car dealerships, I want that diamond life.
All color jewels, right off an Arabian prince’s hand.

I marry folks that resemble “Franklin”; I’m not too smitten with the Washington 
family.I need her and she needs me. I’ll stick her in my purse, meanwhile 
pocketing your accounts, that Swiss cheese is what I need. Call me old fashion, I 
like that 100-year old money, give up those decrepitude figures, I’ll spend it to 
smithereens. Giving that old girl a new attitude!

Wealth will withstand my impulse, to kill in these stores over seas and in your 
town, buying top designers: Fendi’s, True Religions, Red Monkey’s, Baby Phat, 
Valentino’s, Dolce & Gabbana’s, Couture, Coach bags, Gucci shoes, Jimmy 
Choo’s, Ralph Lauren’s and Versace.
Max lip glosses, botox and make me over after the swelling go down. Nip and 
tuck me in. read me a story, out the newspaper, not the funnies. I only go to sleep 
to clabbered-up chatter on how my addiction has foreclosed another billionaire’s 
wallet. 

That greenish blue piece of paper got me firing my best friend, a widow with 5 
kids and no health insurance. (Oh yes I did).Sad part is, if she got have a chance, 
she would have done the same.Don’t frown up your face, Ok, put it this way…
 When I can make profit off a packaged haters, then we’ll do lunch. Until then I’m 
going to see if Larry H. Parker have girlfriend, money calls … 
 You know the story.

                                               


Details | Than-Bauk | |

Wife Lands TKO - Than Bauk

Wife Lands TKO -Than-Bauk 

Wife hits the man
Fry pan lands flush
He stands sleepy


Details | Free verse | |

DWIDUIDWI

 DWIDUIDWI 
DWIDUIDWI 
 
 
Driving WHILE intoxicated Driving Under the Influence Driving With Ignorance. 
Two men speaking one man was scarred on his legs very bad burned and old 
healed up and working again no not the age of the man which was uncertain but 
the age of the burns was evident. He said his wife refused to pay the insurance 
on his truck and they repo came and got the truck he is riding now the city bus 
telling everyone he is the man how can he be so happy at losing everything he 
got his truck his driver license gone 
He still denies the alcohol the problem he says he drinks a very lot less but to 
me that is missing it he drinks and still acts tough and wants to keep his job and 
worthless partee. 
His life is slow but still he manages to crawl.