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Best Career Poems

Below are the all-time best Career poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of career poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Don't stop! The most popular and best Career poems are below this new poems list.

Career choices by Ramprasad, Latha
Career Mum by Barnes, Susan
Changing Career at 30 by McConnell, Gordon
The Professor's Career at an End by Schaeffer, Don
Karma of a career lady by Debrosse, Justin
A House of a Career by Debrosse, Justin
My Career by marymkilker, marymkilker

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The Best Career Poems

Details | Career Poem | |

Where are you Fred Astaire

A man with impeccable charm, sophistication and grace,
Fred Astaire was at once both marvelous and enchanting
As the twentieth century’s greatest dancer and master artist.
He made his sublime dancing (“hoofing”) seem effortless.

Capturing the American spirit with both panache and verve
Fred Astaire glided across some quite wonderful movie sets:
Top Hat (1935), Swing Time (1936), Shall We Dance (1937)
Done magnificently—all harken back to a different America.

This America tho’ more old fashioned was one of “can-do”
And boasted a gutsy bravado even in times great hardship.
Fred Astaire with others was a sturdy star symbol of the then
Greatest Generation that helped bring peace to a war torn world.

Fred Astaire was part of this Greatest Generation entertaining
Packed audiences and dazzling them with steps of joy and perfection.
Tho’ now gone Astaire’s past accomplishments serve as a prologue
For new generations to come and to seize opportunities for greatness.

Where are you Fred Astaire?

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(September 2, 2014)

More great poems below...

Details | Career Poem | |

Glow worms of the night

I fight my sleep in a drain.
 Oh ! My brain why art thou so vain.
I glow at night when the city sleeps.
To my dears who weep.
Tales aren't glowing at this end.
You lucky to choose the path you trend.
I am a glow worm of the bountiful sky.
I weave silk with my words each night,
Which fades in the darkness of the waving dream.
I wonder the worth of it all.
A vain pursuit, I say.
My soul is in that cave...
Pity! Warm breeze take me away to the morning light.
Let me fly through these strum less clogs of wheel.
Drudgery breeds it's contempt.
Amaya! Shower on me thy calm to tread the brightest star.


(A poem for those who work at night)

Contest:- Any poem under 15lines#2
Sponsored By:- A Poet Destroyer
Place:-    5th

Details | Career Poem | |

New Future Of The Internet

New Future Of The

Cable cost are up
too high
You turned to the
internet and so have

My Youtube channel
is the way to go
Now I can even make
video shows

I group the videos
to make a show
To bring you the
best of where I go

For kids the mower
and stove videos
I also have vehicles
and some scarecrows

Kids can watch from
morn til night
with lots of things
for a kids delight
Light houses, ship
building, and horses
Antique barn yards
and tractor pulls
just for you

Aviation, taxidermy,
and crafty wood
Viewwithme Youtube
has all the quirks 

The historical homes
make a great tour
Contest and oxen
pulls are never a

Animal friends, I
haven’t forgotten
I have horses, dogs,
cows and sheep too

Plenty of petting
pens and milking for
And a simple click
is all you have to

A lot of shows with
a mix for all
Like demolition
derby or a stunt so

So if you dropped
the cable and you
have a need
I have three
channels for you to
By: Doris Anne

Details | Career Poem | |

The Interview

I am so tired of forever.
Seems there was something I left behind in another life.
I asked the mirror and the mirror said, 
“You can do better.” 

There are papers spread across my bed,
Books strewn, open as wide as my eyes at five—
"Where were you last night?"
When she left I barely replied.

I asked the mirror, and the mirror said,
“You’ll rest only when you’re dead.”

I’ve come all this way to sell myself;
I can’t tell you how many selves I’ve killed,
Just to keep from standing still.

How many times I’ve wanted to smash all the high hopes, 
The façade,
The box,   
The thoughts
That tower god.  

I’ve given the keys back to my jailor
In a cell that smothers me with my failure
And beats my nature into a stranger.

How is the pedestal still so very clean?
I watch them kill to snatch their dream
From the hands that rightfully receive; 
A Stockholm syndrome of high esteem.

I’ve seen so many knives go in my thigh.
I’ve taken them out with no reply.
We all beseech for that unreachable lie
To the sound of years just dredging by.

But here we are at last.
I stood as the suits opened up the door.
Now that I've made it all this way,

I don’t want it anymore.

Details | Career Poem | |


You may see me out on the streets Lying curled up in a foetal position my sleeping bag in a shop doorway Trying to get a few hours sleep here in my latest home in cardboard city … I never stay more than a few nights in one place can never really settle; these streets aren’t safe You may see me out on the streets I’m sitting on the cold damp pavement with an empty coffee cup in my hand Hoping for a coin or two so I can have some real food in my aching belly Still you hurry past, trying to avoid making eye contact… Believe me, it’s so degrading rummaging in the litterbins like a wild animal But some days it’s the only way I can get any food to eat The biting cold and wet weather is my worst enemy I can never get warm even when the sun shines This is no life, just a way of surviving another day Guess you think I’m a waster, a dirty tramp You walk on by; judge me without knowing what lead me to life on the streets Bet you think I’m a druggie or an alcoholic I guess most people seem to think that They see my filthy clothes, straggly hair and grey beard Just five years ago I was like many of you I had a career, a beautiful wife, and two lovely children Spent many months away from home fighting for my country But then I got sent to Afghanistan… I saw scenes no man should ever have to witness I was traumatised Forever suffering flashbacks of the faces of those innocent people The children, oh those children – made me think of my two boys back at home I couldn’t cope any more, had a total mental breakdown I was a broken man … My wife could no longer deal with the mood swings , the erratic behaviour The Army did little to help – discharged me on health grounds, then basically abandoned me Now I’ve lost everything … my wife, family, my dignity Many of the people you see on the streets are like me … We all have a story to tell, but no one gives us the time of day Passers by avert their eyes and hurry past like we are invisible Your eyes may tell you one thing… but please don’t judge me Because you don’t know me 07~21~15

More great poems below...

Details | Career Poem | |

Growing Pians


It’s all about pain, frustration, tears. Fears, it’s all about fighting temptation
Watch the sun rise and set to the darkest thoughts of contemplation
My heart smiles not, my lungs laugh not to restoration
My light shines not it dims even the most vital motivation
From the day I was born to the day I shall die with lamentation
The question to my satisfaction still stands without fortification
The course of my education, my certificates sleep in nullification
The restoration of my sanity, my greatness, my dream is in a state of decomposition
As I watch it decay to a fossil plant without inspiration
I`m the brown leaf without respiration or perspiration
I am the unlubricated machine imprisoned in storage without life or action

The anger trapped in me bleeds my heart to death
It hurts my soul to a coma, to a collapse, to a faint
The pain and rage within me sends my brain to a trauma
To a clot of dangerous damaged stage of acts and drama
The finger pointing at me with pity soils my confidence
The mouth laughing at me spoils my happiness to a gloom.
That blossom to an irrational and uncontrollable doom.
The tongue that betrays me kills my authenticity
Usurp my serenity; launch a highly tactical robbery of my ecstasy

My peers are at the lecture room behind desks reading and writing
I am standing behind the lifeless tiles cleaning
Standing behind the stove cooking.
That was not the vision that was not the mission.
That was not my dream, it was not the operation

Details | Career Poem | |


Wat I want  ???

I wanna a live a life 
Where I have nothing to worry
Like a lazy dog 
I pass all the time
Thinking  wats the hurry          

Run well away
From the truths of life 
From the truth, Of it 
Being a double edged knife

Shed all the pains
All the sorrows
Live my life as if 
Feeling thers no tomorrow

Wake up to shinning Sun
Widout any ambition
No goals to reach 
No rules to breach
No profits to earn
No lessons to learn

Have a group of friend
Wid whom I just don’t pretend
Knowing they care
I always dare to share

Just wanna live a life
Widout the future's Haunt
Oh Dear God,
From my lfe
This is all I want……

Details | Career Poem | |

Tanka 3

silently I lie awaiting I await thee a wry smirk greets me sighted precision confirms sporadic crimson now speaks

Details | Career Poem | |

read this please

They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.

They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies

They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test

They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be 

-Sanderline Fleury :)

Details | Career Poem | |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               

Details | Career Poem | |

He's A Carpenter

Surrounded by various profession
Business, medicine, soldiership and education
It's heaven-sent and planned  for Him to labour
To work manually with strength and effort
True hardships; entails a great man of honor

He picked up woods and tools to craft
From small drawers and tables to houses that will last
An impression of humility and expression of equality
Though He is reverence; a Saviour from heaven

Joseph was the adoptive father
Where His skill of carpentry originated
He worked night and day; perspired with pain
He asked of no demand and with no complain

The name is Jesus born in Betlehem
The only begotten son of our Father in heaven
He could have worked in another occupation
But chose to make a living from down-below

Carpenters make
Carpenters create
They take the common and make it something to consider
Equipped with right materials they bind things altogether
The reason-being, for us to know He's a builder

Don't you know that we're under construction?
Whenever our hearts broken and the world is all we know
When we pray and call, Jesus is at work
To fix us and forgive; improving mind and soul

No work is greater if hardwork is shared
Truly, Jesus had proven that a carpenter's noble
To help us build our dreams and make the world stronger
"In Him, all things hold together"'.

Details | Career Poem | |


heights without ceilings
climber’s roster for success
destiny dynast

Details | Career Poem | |


NIGHTINGALE'S SOUL LIGHTS Plain spotless uniform so pure and white Modest neat gear rendering tender loving fight Day, night 'till wee hours, eyes a must wide awake Extending a hand, shaking off all aches Tiptoeing like a sly in and out of rooms Dim ~ quiet same as white garden tombs Grace under pressure upon first newborn's cry Wiping tears from a gentle old man's dying eye Evenings so dark and mornings so bright Everyday a nurse sees life kaleidoscope lights Despite some voice rudeness to foul remarks Kindness,her soul's sweet perfume, larks A nurse appears unfeeling firm when mankind bleeds Within her are hidden soft golden beauty deeds (c) 11:47pm July 06, 2014

Details | Career Poem | |

A Brand New Start

                         The familiar faces that I'll long to see.
                   The beauty of a place where my soul once laid.
                    The bests of memories that will linger in mind.
                         How hard to tell everyone , "goodbye".

                           A year of struggles,pain and defeat.
                       How I love to recall the moment  I wept.
                      A painful experience that leads to success.
                Now I'm bringing a torch to lit the path that I'll take.

                        Tears may gently flow from these eyes.
                  The laughter we had shared still echoe from afar.
                   Though my heart is dying each time we depart.
                  I'll treasure those days when you cheer me high.

                      This journey I'll be taking isn't be that long.
                I'll leave you with a sweet kiss while the sky is dark.
                     So tomorrow we'll greet the sun with a smile.
                   Facing a new beginning, in the world we survive.

Details | Career Poem | |

Cry of A Successful Man

With love comes consequence
With hope comes failure
With triumph comes fear
With peace comes worry
With riches comes pain
With poverty comes envy

Details | Career Poem | |


TENDER LOVING TOUCH don't fear she's dear tight clutch soft touch wears white polite too sick she's quick your ache she breaks your ill she feels one pill you still preserve your nerve correct inject your shock she blocks you scared she cares through sleeps she peeps recharged discharge "thank you" she coos ___________________________ Sponsor Judy Konos Contest Name YOUR FOOTLE POEM ---Placed1st--- O.E. Guillermo 8:41 pm, April 04, 2015

Details | Career Poem | |


kuchh karna hai,kuchh kar dikhana hai mujhe
par roshni nhi hai jivan me, par talashna hai mujhe
kuchh sapne hai mere,unhe pura kar dikhana hai mujhe
chahe mushkile aaye jivan me,sapno ko pura kar dikhana hai mujhe
mot ko savikar kar lege hum, agar sapne ho jaye pure
dekhna hai mujhe khush sabhi ko
shayd kuchh karna hoga mujhe
kuchh jarur karege hum aisa
ydi aisa wakt aayega jivan me

Details | Career Poem | |

I wanna be something

I wanna be something...

I wanna be a DOCTOR
I share the  factor behind not becoming a doctor
last four letters of ‘DOCTOR’ – ‘CTOR’, sounded as ‘Cutter’,
Cutter means to cut & I can't cut,
So skipped the decision of breaking the above nut.

I  wanna be an ACTRESS
I share the stress of not being an actress
when planets in a horoscope turn around, stars of a STAR  goes round & round,
Name & fame both don’t  sound,
So I forgot to be an Actress.

I wanna be a LAWYER
I share the reason why I couldn't be a Lawyer
If 'AW' letters in LAWYER by chance are out, it sounds as 'Lyer',
"Lyer" becomes 'liar', I donna  wanna be a liar, 
So I am not a Lawyer

I wanna be a BROKER
Broker means to break & that’s a big quake,
 added ‘STOCK’ to  ‘BROKER’
Funds started dancing like a Joker.

Rashmi Pawar

Details | Career Poem | |

New City - Get Ready

Mama I want to be a star
I want to grace stages that host the world's revered faces
Fantasies shameless my pipe dreams contagious 
I want to be famous

Not one for fictional frivolity
I speak of what's in front of me
A new city called Poetry, 
I watched as the has-beens soaked their dreams in sewage streams
Unphased by rodent plagues 
These ones embrace their own rat race
I still try to navigate the avenues
Negotiate the ones and twos and find a way to tell the truth 

Young and unstable I stumble in the giant footprints of those who stood before me
Tip toe  on verbal terrain as desperately I pray the weight of immaturity won't bury me, 
Admittedly this spoken world is new to me 


Is it possible in any way the gift of verse will carry me? 
I see me breaking grounds, earth shattering and in my dreams these words resound
I'll turn cacophony into somewhat of a sacred sound
I want to craft phrases that serenade, deliver sweet-somethings that emancipate
I want, in some way to bring meaning to confusion 
Dear world of poetry
Sometimes when they're floored I'm in awe of how my flow's flawless, I  hear applause no pauses, waving arms and stinging palms bear tribute to those timeless charms, classic tales still bent with intent to succumb to new pens

Pave way for insecurity
For fear of gift escaping me
See I fail to write when I'm  trying to
I get it right with no intention to
Am I...within my right to claim potential true?
Tear ink off her hinges, her blue ball point cringes
Left hand in debt
My blank page bereft

But in the back of my mind
I see standing ovations and soul drenched invasions..
I want to pierce every being I encounter, 
I want to penetrate faith, tear doubt asunder,
Let me to speak to the  valleys
negotiate peaks and make friends with epitome
I want to part oceans and in the grips of my  - pause   -   tempt emotions,

mold momentum to set in motion the wheels of adoption so that poetry.....may adapt herself for me  

I want to write poetry, I want to speak 
I want to reach within,
 pen something...
 A remote reflection of her 
This...this brand new city
I present this piece as fantasy
 when in all reality
I do hope she's  prepared for me

Details | Career Poem | |

Wilderness is a Crowded street

Wilderness is a crowded street.

Silence stings the ears of the hearer,
Cacophony of sound, unheard.
Loneliness turns to solitude,
Converse without a word.

Wilderness is a crowded street.
A passer-by nobody sees.
Togetherness now disjointed,
Run! I feel their disease.

Money is their mind set
Full wallet yet they're poor.
A heart of gold inside me,
Theirs, an open sore!

Some own the World, yet are bankrupt,
Emotionally discharged black-holes.
Shiny shoes that point to nowhere,
Prices, still on their soles.

All the broken people,
Nobody tells me why.
Orphaned, divorced, mistaken,
I'll not lay down to die.

To roll over and just take it,
Is what they'd like us to do.
So let's all speak out, be counted,
Not be part, of the Zoo!

Details | Career Poem | |

The Victory Dance

To play as if today
Is your only chance.
Some say, “It’s just a game.”
Have they done the Victory Dance?

When hard-earned Victory
Was finally at hand,
Have they felt the glory
Raining down from the stands?

To do or not to do….
No one wants to hear, “We tried.”
Effort and dedication will be rewarded… 
They'll make the 'magic' that's on your side. 

Yes, to fall short is still an option;
But much better to succeed.
Heroes are made and remembered
Only by their deeds.

So, just go out and win.
Give your all to each and every chance.
Persevere and achieve…

And do the Victory Dance.

Details | Career Poem | |

Someday special

One day
The sky fades
I'll be free
The good day
Is someday

Details | Career Poem | |


They call me hairdresser, hairstylist, barber,
but really I am just a therapist with shears in my hands and the ability to cut memories out of peoples orbits.

Donna says she has twenty seven great-grandchildren,
twelve grandchildren,
and six kids.
She tells me that her late husband died,
and that if I cut her hair too short she will wring my neck. 
She calls me superhero.

Dustie tells me about her child passing,
that the autopsy couldn’t tell why,
just a selfish god wanted her precious to be with him instead of her.  
I don’t cry. 
I try not to fill the shampoo suds with salt tears.
I try not to use the tape in my pocket to keep me together,
but sometimes I need it when I bite the bitter from my fingernails.
The cut hair sticks to my leggings-
their stories itching away at me. 

I try not to cradle their shortcomings in my cereal spoon,
try not to feel guilty if my advice doesn’t take,
try not to kill the blue jays,
or miss the sunrise.
I try not to forget their names,
or their fingers,
but I will never forget their stories. 

Cut me like an a-line
because I am asymmetrical to their words.
Listening but forgetting.
Sweeping up the hair and moving on,
always snip, sweep, snip, sweep,
dust off my shoulders and I’m back up again.

Glass house salon chair,
I hold their hair at a ninety degree angle.
They sink in the seat
always looking back at me.
180 degree angle, modified ninety,
texture with razor but don’t cut off the length of their stories.
Remember their fingers.
Remember their formulas for changing.
Remember their eye color and the size of their pupils,
the way they look when they talk to you.
Remember to take notes like Marilee’s hair is resistant and takes a longer time to process.
Remember the process,
the hilite weave,
the caramels, golds, coppers, blondes. 
Remember their voices,
the stable and shaky and cracked and firm.
Remember to snip, sweep, snip, sweep,
dust off your shoulders and get back up again.

I’ve got to sit up straight,
grip the watermelons,
eat the pepper seeds,
tame the lions.
I have to crawl when the soles of my feet are covered in sorrows
And my knees harbor hopes for holding me up,
joining my joints together,
connecting me from floor to foot, to stomach, to lung, to heart, to heart, to dust off your shoulders and get back up again.

Donna comes in again, for a perm this time. 
She walks slowly to the salon chair.
My stomach is hollow.
I weep into my lungs.
As I begin to put on my suit she looks up at me
and smiles
and says, “Hello, Superhero.”

Details | Career Poem | |

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 | Career Poem | |

I See Fire

Long Day at work
He returns
as a red-eyed wolf

Quiet room
and shiny desks
His minds keep busy

Eyes staring
on wet pavements
No more Fire

Then I See You
crow's feet landing on my eyes
Fired Up!

Messages conveyed
even a thick glass
cannot stop your anger

There is Fire 
in all working people
They all need a spark plug

Created 12th May 2014
For Poem Contest Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer A