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Prose Poetry Business Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Business

These Prose Poetry Business poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Business. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Business poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

MAY OUR WILL BE DONE

Personally, we clash because we want to be different. becomes indifferent. We have a chip on our shoulders as individuals. We want to be innate; in which one must be the greater person. Personally, we confront each other about dumb things when it is not business structured. Our conflict becomes that of jealousy. Non-bias to gender this is which cause differentiation. We are the people of the cosmos. Our brotherly and sisterly love is what unites us. Let us learn each other through the structure formed and join for a greater focus. The reality of today states life is a place in time. Formed by animal and by humankind, our living determines our destinies. Strength empowers! A common cause unites! We are all God’s people. We must bond in some shape, form, or fashion. This is for certain and ascertains a more meaningful existence. Our personality clashes should not stop us as individuals. The multitude is what matters and we are in that configuration. Inasmuch, integrity integrates. Amour-proper allows us to become more diverse. A greater determination brings forth application. Therefore, we must concentrate within these thoughts. Our single-mindedness plus our constructive efforts manifests destiny. This is our world our universe. Let us not asunder. MAY OUR WILL BE DONE! _____________________________| Sponsor Chris D. Aechtner Contest Name Anything Goes Entry Date March 08, 2014 ~Please read About This Poem~


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Shadows

a windowless room.  
a clock on the wall.  
a fluorescent light flickers and buzzes.  
the breeze from an oscillating fan sweeps across my clammy skin.  
i wait seated with other shadows
while outside an open door shoppers move about the store.  

a shadow speaks nervously to the room to no one in particular.  
about the job.  
about the weather.  
about how hard it was to find this place.  
i retreat into the hum of the fan.  
waiting through each metallic tick of the clock
for the Fully-Formed People i know will come.  

a Man walks into the room. 
and Another with a folder.  
“this is shadow work,” 
He says to the room as He closes the door behind Him,  
“and it will always be shadow work.”  
which i already know from the ad.

He begins the interview.  
asking transparent questions of each shadow in turn.  
as the second Man makes notes.  
and when the questions come to me 
i no longer shake at my name
and say with dispassion all the right things
but fail again to show enthusiasm.  
it is too late for me.  
shadow work will not do.  
but the others, much younger, stutter and smile with the hope of credulity.  

the Fully-Formed Men finish and quickly leave the room.   
i gather up my jacket to leave
and glance outside the open door.
a young shadow slaps her misbehaving child.  
“not here,” she scolds.  
and i am unmoved.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Words From My Thoughts

I spent the days looking at the ground
I thought the world had clipped my wings
I spent the hours saying I felt down
I had no strength. I felt entangled in things
And then I hear you called me (Godson)
I set my face into the breeze
I lift my head. I spread my wings and I am free
My heart was heavy in the valley down below
My soul was empty, void of love

My sight was cloud by the dust the world blows
So I set my mind on earth not things above
But now your lifts me up 
From the sick bed in which i lie groaning
I will not be conquered, I am destined for your love
Courage is three letter words
Real courage is saying YES to life
Not backing down when faced with adversity
courage is acting with fear, not without it
Angel! I really love you deep down my heart.

Life is filled with challenges and opportunities
Mountains to be climbed conquered with others to follow
When you are no longer interested in climbing mountains
to see other mountains to climbed, life is over
Vision sees the invisible
Believes the incredible
And then receives the impossible
This makes the blood never to run cold
Because loves for the path of the future lives
A mind that makes Success my QUEEN


Details | Prose Poetry | |

GIRL TALK

we are a office team
we all have dreams
and behind  sence
we do cheme
as we walk
we have 
GIRL TALK


Details | Prose Poetry | |

TIME

Tick tack  on the wall,
Knocking all the wall,
Scaring us all,
Muscling the muscles,
Muscling the morsels in us,
Quickening the finest deep,
The hidden gold of gold,
A dignity of labour,
How loyal and diligent you are,
Precious and precarious,
Dangerous and conspicuous.
TIME !!TIME!!TICK TACK!

Running without waiting for anybody,
How impatient could man be,
In your sound you keep man,
In haste at everydawn,
Thou hath in the haste of full dawn,
Desperately desperate,
Anxiously anxious,
Wisely wise are we and you
Preciously precious,
Nothing can be done without you that's obivously obvious.
TIME !!TIME!!TICK TACK!


We chose to choose you,
Working to work with you,
Falling to fall with you,
No time no food,
No time no suite,
No time no cheat,
No time no shift,
No time no me,
there is set time for everything,
Mama use to say,
Patience is virtue of time,
that's the way whichever way.
TIME !!TIME!!TICK TACK!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

FRIENDS AND MONEY

when you got it
they don't quite
some do this
to get you can bet
some call you honey
thats
FRIENDS AND MONEY


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Treasure

Working from morning till the noon,
Outside the house under the sky blue,
To earn the leisure and comforts of life,
With friends, family and beloved wife.

Is this the real world We always dreamt of?
Or the trending lifestyle we want to get on? 
Is earning more money the only way?
For happiness in life all the way?

Mother's and father's day and night,
In offices and meetings tedious yet alright,
Children's care is postponed in this,
On '' tomorrow ''  that is always amiss. 

Everyone is always in such a hurry, 
No time for proper&healthy food,
A sudden sneeze and off to bed,
With pills and tablets no good.

Who really cares about the old?
The one who brought us up,
"Admitted" in some old-age home,
Because now they always "interrupt". 

What happened to the family time? 
The togetherness of the siblings?
Busy schedule ate all of it,
The fun and the bonding with it! 

Is promotion so important?
Or the ranks that we obtain?
Is post everything that matters?
And position with it we gain?

Do we ever ask ourselves?
What is the treasure of life?
Money, status, luxuries?
Or happiness and sharing alike?
Have we forgotten our own jewels?
The love of family and friends?
Have we lost the precious parents?
In our relatively living trends? 

We have to know the truth now, 
About what we are to become,
A money crazed machine? 
Or a caring dad, husband and son?
Open yourself from the blindfold,
And take a step to pace,
To recognize the treasure we already have,
And make world a better place! 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Second Fable

 The Second Fable 
The Second Fable 
 
The BusYness 
 
 
The Alcoholic boss: 
       The man was doing inventory when the lady called his namme. 
“Johnny what is wrong with you eye just looked out at the van? 
The tire is almost flat again eye just gave you a hundred dollars yesterday to get 
the tire fixed and eye remember giving you fifty just last week? You must have 
kept the money are you drinking now again?” 
The Alcoholic Worker: 
“Tilly you are mistaken the tire is not that low eye checked the gauge myself less 
than two hours ago. 
The receipt for the tireshop is still inside the till Tilly why do not you still believe 
me tell me Tilly how could eye get a receipt like that unless eye paid the bill?” 
The Alcoholic Worker: 
To Tilly:“Every now and then they do a poor poor job so eye will take the van back 
to the tire shop and have them check that tire again.” 

To ASIDE: The whiskey that eye bought with that old coots money is still in the 
center console eye have to drink it now today and she will knoe I'm drunk unless 
eye leave the van somewhere and say that it got stolen and the bad men beat me 
up. 
Narrator Charlax Android One Seven: 
The Johnny worker got in the van and drove to the center of a bridge he leaped 
from the bridge into the water down below with the whiskey in his hand and left 
the van in the center of the bridge the tire was now so low it was just flat. 
The Alcoholic Worker: 
Johnny to hisself: “The Tilly will believe me why should she doubt so much eye 
have to make this look good a lie is soon found out.” 
Narrator Charlax One Seven: 
Johnny took a rock of largesse size and hit himself more than three times hard 
upon his brow his forehead split wide open he looked like a beaten up man. 
He finished off the whiskey and walked somewhat surprised that his worthwhile 
plan had come to a fruition in his addled whiskey mind back to the sewing 
shoppe. 
 Listen as the woman talks to him. 

                        The Alcoholic Boss: 
“Before you say a word to me my alcoholic Johnny there was a Charlax sitting 
underneath the bridge playing games down in the water he loves a mermaid 
there and kisses all her hair. He saw you leave the van and leap into the water 
my friend MISS Tilly Two is bringing back the van for you.” 
“Now don't you feel so foolish the job was feeding you now you will look for 
someone else to tell your lies to rob them of there wealth to feed your alcoholic 
drive.” 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

How to Order a Pizza In Dutchess County

First, be aware, all close by 6pm.
NYC, this aint.....
Second, call up.....
Specify delivery.....
Detail requests....
"How much are beers?
"$2.50 each..."
"Okay- I'll take 4 beers and a slice.
What's that come to?"
"$26.50"
"Huh?"
"$26.50"

"Hold on, 4 beers, each $2.50,
that's $10., right?"
"Yeah."
A slice is $16.50?"
"No, you have to add sales tax,
Oil surcharge, delivery fee, employee
dependent's education fund,
wear and tear on the tires,
and telephone imformation fee."
"sorry, you're right, that should be $29.50."
"huh?"
"Additional questions are $2.50 each...."

"Nevermind." click.

"Hello, Chinese Jade Restaurant..."
"Hi, any MSG?"
"No, we don't go to Madison Square Gardens"

From now on, english muffins and liverwurst!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Midnight Pianist

"then they get into this....

we love the way the
sunshine through the
diamond   ring  and
real delicatto 
 

so, you made your $20
and grabbed your line
you end up in Bahrain


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Job Well Done

Job Well Done
WLM
Wildncrazy555
June 27, 2011

Got my job done
Now sitting in the sun
Tried a computer to pawn
Treated me as the devil’s spawn
Met a man
It was so grand
I looked and I spied
Ronnie gave me a ride


Details | Prose Poetry | |

LOCK AND KEY

they come together
you need forever
to have a boxes
or a cot
as you  go and shop
people will see
there's a
LOCK AND KEY


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Health and safety

 They giggled at the meeting.
 A first for heath and safety. 
 A serious issue: 
 Leptospirosis.
 Dirty rats only carry the disease,
 Canoeing and spelunking,
 With clean ones is ok.

The lady was doing grand,
In the face of grown men and women
At school for the day,
Serious technical folks
Bored or torn from fee-earning work
Out for a jolly in the conference room,
Out to disrupt, and delight to deride.

The core or the soul of the issue,
Was the ladies desire to prevent harm
To her fellow man 
Was there a deep hurt
Or worse a loss
Powereing her enthusiasm
Through the waves of cynicism?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

towers of babel

TOWERS OF BABEL 

Rise up yee towers of Babel
Reach high
Grab the sky

The triumph of capitalism
A box of glass

Up to the heights of glory
Earned or stolen
These manifestations of machismo reach

A sign of progress are they
A spot where the rules
Of fair play have few adherents

The drive for success and attainment 
Is marked by multi-storied phalluses 
Invading the sky 

Rise up yee towers of trade
Fling your grapple high
Let it soar
And cling to the maker’s domain
On high

Up to him you go
Let him see all
You can do
And now know


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heat

HEAT
WLM/KDW
Wildncrazy555
April 18, 2011

Waiting on the corner
Should we warn her
Of the approaching danger
Like a silent still ranger
She has been caught as a snitch
Out comes the evil, mean witch
We may to her have to slice
Into little pieces we love to dice
With a rock to her neck she will sink
After a while she will begin to stink
And no one will ever know
For through time she will never show
This is a terrible place
 Which has fallen from all of God’s grace 
We hope we may
Live through the day
And hope to always stay
To live another day



Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Un-American

The Un-American has no say,
he/she has to put up with anyone
or anything that comes their way,
They better not fall in love with
an American girl or chap,
or else they'll experience harrasment until
they give him/her back,
This is the prejudice that exists in the great USA,
even in 2010,
Today, as we celebrate The Constitution
and Independence,
Americans have to look deeper within
themselves,
"Although a parson may christen his child first,"
We should never promise resoidents better and give them worse,
There is no need to omit hard working foreigners from having
their fair share,
They are not the people Americans should fear,
Many times its their own, that seem picture-perfect
with all the right words to say, that will defect,
They are the ones who will cause America
to have a Dooms Day.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Transvestite Not Working.......

Gender prejudice is a hoot,
Who gives another the right
to determine femininity or
masculinity?
Haven't they ever heard of men
who act very feminine,
Yet, they are not gay,
Metrosexuals, that's just their way,
Then, there are women who relish
being Tom-Boys,
because the thrill of kicking aces
brings them joy,
They can beat the old boys' network at
their own games,
doing it effectively and without
shame,
However, closed minds feel better off trying
to ostracize,
because an Amazon woman can cut anyone
down to size.....


Details | Prose Poetry | |

MELODIES OF SHAME

 Blind senses of my soul
keep on protruding in my mind
Pop,pop, popping
inside my head
hot tears flow down my cheeks
as silent words shout unsung
songs
silent hymns dominate my erect
eardrums

Minds are blinded,
notches of heavy hearts misled
as the intellect produce Havoc,
Havoc of no purpose at all
And the young buds slip down
the slippery road
the road to destruction
taking with them our discordant
dreams
as sachetted whisky rule their
blood streams

current affairs,poison to their
ears
daylight snatching,songs that
entertain their null heads
as their mental intellect stays
chaste
when the royals on the hill
shambles their produce
while fake smiles swallow their
sweat
and a cough they produce not
though they are sick and ill

minds they have condensed
emotions they have frozen
and click,click, a lock
locking their naked hearts in
cages
while letting their intellect rot
and their futures stuck
a deliberate conception of no
words

is it choice, fear or mere humility?
That they sniff a fathers dangling
pseudopod
snatching the innocence of
sisters pride?
And zip their loud toilets?
That they see a brother in the
streets
and fail to drop a coin, or even a
shirt?
When will you take the wheel
youths of Malawi?
To steer the ship to other tides?
To take a sober leap of leadership
that will transform the poor land?
Melodies i sing- melodies of
shame


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Copy cat

They won't be you
Some do
They steal your ideals
And run like a rat
They are
Copy cat


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The 'Happy' Porn Star

  
 
  The 'Happy' Porn Star.
Grew up in poverty, 
on a farm,deep down in the south.
With too many brothers 
and many her cousins.
She had not the time to love them all..
Except for her pet pink pig.
She had no use for a cork screw.
Most of the house looked like there's.
Not her room, 
full of lace and silk, they yurned.
She burned and burned wanting more.
She has her own pony.
Nice little pony and friends.
By the time she was grown and tall.
Every thing of value she owned.
Old gold coins and silver in a box
southern confederate money, 
yellowed with age.
She packed it all up, 
while her pony and she rode away. 

Is It Poetry