Best Business Poems
* DARKNESS of the LIGHT *
Those that fear the dark,
Have never seen what the light can do.
In this grave, I will leave no mark.
Knowing the tunnel light, is the way God scr3ws with you.
I have no soul to sell,
Someone jacked my free ticket to hell.
I lived all my life on the verge of a broken dream.
My will locked behind this iron cell.
Only he can hear me scream!
My own prisoner in this bottle shell.
To fear the dark is the devil's scheme.
Watch me as I remove my own shackles from my limbs.
Towards the light, I will never redeem.
A full flavor laugh,
For he that fears the darkness, and walks the light alone.
~SKAT~
I always wanted two slices of ice cube pie
“You only get one”, was the standard reply.
I don’t know why I did
But since I was a kid
It was my favorite treat on the Fourth of July.
The pastry is known by all our relations
Since the recipe’s passed down for generations.
Every bite you’ll savoir
Exceptional flavor
But remember, don’t settle for imitations
Long ago, my great Aunt tried experiments
By leaving out one of the ingredients.
Once Uncle took a bite
He stared out in fright
And barely survived that bad experience.
My oldest son, Johnny became quite wise
He grew up like the others, before our eyes.
His passion for confection
Was a gainful connection
When he opened the first ice cube pie franchise.
Soon after that, we made our first million
And played in the sun with friendly Brazilians.
But to our surprise
We saw ice cube pies
On bamboo platters next to our pavilion
Right away we knew this was an infraction
Without delay our family took action.
We found a private eye
Who loved our ice pie
But his research left him broken in traction.
It was apparent to us that that kind of job
Was endorsed by the brutal ice cube pie mob.
But we didn’t frown
Or give up and back down
We were going to prevail; oh, yes siree, Bob!
With a meeting of minds we gathered resources
And then undersigned the following courses.
To make sure our ices
Sold at cut-rate prices
To knock competition off its high horses.
So back at the shop we assembled platoons
To build enough pies to reach to the moons.
And made plenty dough
That allowed us to mow
Down the cube racket’s, knuckle dragging goons.
We now manage an ice cube pie monopoly
Sales started smooth, but then turned choppily.
So we eased the frustration
With another vacation
But guess what we saw in downtown Mexicali?!
Known for miles around
As the Queen of Croissants
She’d perfected her art for years
But at what cost
More physically demanding than you might think
She gave the best years of her youth
Working at a small town bakery
The strain on her hands and body taking their toll
Owners had lucked out and they knew it
She loved her art and would have done it for free
Trying to produce the work of three
Never took a sick day in twenty-five years
Couldn’t have worked harder if the place had been her own
The owners were greedy, looking to save their own hide
Watched her toil while they leisurely went about their day
Went on vacations leaving her the keys
Knowing all too well the place would run smoothly
Heaven forbid she would get a thank you
Or - bite your lip – a bonus
AP: 2nd place 2020
March 4, 2018 Poem of the Day
Well, here is the truth for you all,
since you had no idea you are a
part of one big scam called Poetry Soup
which charges you for the anthology
just so you can see your own poem,
so that means don't be upset because
you were not accepted into Anthology that
has close to a 1000 poets in it and even more poems,
they take everything and anything and pretend
like they had to read all of the works and then decide,
it is a nonsense and be happy that you did not get accepted!
My poem got accepted and i cant read it, because they want me to buy
the book just so i can see my poem in it.
Now this whole place could be a scam,
because if they can scam us through Anthology
that means they do not give three s about what we write!
Diverse Voices is a scam, Poetry soup is a scam,
the whole internet is a scam, and the only way
you will be able to accept this fact is to stop posting here,
and for over 20 years this scam has been taking our poetry
in exchange for profit of which we get 0. How is this poem for a change?
Truth hurts that is why nobody wants to hear it.
DIVERSE VOICES MY ASS!
"Made In China"
They can have my money
If it saves me money
The toys I played with when I was young,
Says I enjoyed their hands
The Labels read
"MADE IN CHINA"
The cheap material on my back, the shoes I wore.
How easily they faded and tore
However, I enjoyed their hands
The Tags on my rags;
"MADE IN CHINA"
The car I own saves money on gas
A tiny Honda Civic, takes me everywhere
I love my sweet silver car
"Manufactured in China"
The never been used--Made in the USA--cookware I own,
Says, I don't work hard at all:)
Yummy to Chinese all you can eat take Outs
Thank you China for being part of this world
Better Yet!
Thank you China, for making this world a part of yours.
MADE IN CHINA
Shipped easily in a box
~SKAT~
She knew this
was going to happen
Mr psychopath is rapping
With his crazy beats in timing
Singing: She's so freaky
You must believe me
I'll spread my message
They better get it
Tearing apart logic
His tempo is lethargic
Smearing the writing
of her time in shining
But those who know her best
Laugh at him in jest
They know her worth
No need for a test
When asked if she's crazy
They evade the question
Thinking to themselves
We are above this business
of railroading the gifted
So take your props and stage
and...perform elsewhere
in the singing of your rage
Poetry is a Risky Business
The Recipe for Poetry
Open stereo
Turn volume medium high
Poor 3 shots of whiskey
Add 2 bottles of wine
Open 1 bag of chips
Add one box of Oreos
Listen to Alice Cooper
Then Abba
Then Dance of the knights
Then listen to all 3 at the same time
Stick pins into the doll of your ex
For added drama add some ketchup
Open up 2 brands of cheese
Because that shows some class that you have 2 types on hand
Do this
Before opening second bottle of wine
This way you’re not an alcoholic
Turn on some Paul McCartney and Uriah Heep
During moments the stereo is on high volume
Sing along
Down to the skivvies it is, if you have a hockey stick
A little air guitar for some added inspiration
Cut up some Edgar Allen Poe poems
To put between the Oreos and cheese
Eat till the feeling of darkness overcomes you
Let your thoughts simmer 5 hours
Voila done
When you wake up
You should have 1 or 2 poems facing you
Sitting in a cloak of black conservatism:
I feel my hands,
oily on the desk like shortening in
slate gray cookie pans,
the speedway inside forcing the absence of
reabsorption,
And my thoughts,
so flippant to implore
if a man with a chartreuse neck tie
can see the long wet streaks
across the cherry plane.
He speaks,
a sequence of interrogatives
common to the bored walls
of serious conference,
evoking tone inflection
in the pattern of polite.
Darest I mention truth?
I am your whore;
infect me with smug integrity,
smack me with false prophet leadership,
just leave some crisp bills
on the nightstand, sugar.
Yet my voice models his wavelength,
relaying back the catchy tired language
of one hit wonders;
eyes brighten,
hands extend
from the man who owns a chartreuse tie.
Sigh.
Still,
complacency
awards a loaf of Wonder bread,
and a two bedroom lower.
Next item up for bid, a rare coin of mine
Is one 1894 s silver Liberty dime
Only 24 of these coins were minted that year
That is, in San Francisco, let me be clear
In case anyone here has a thought to purloin
We have guards and cameras on this valuable coin
It's merely speculation why so few were minted
The fact is, that's all, they permitted
The superintendent gave most to banker friends
But three were given to his daughter to spend
She spent one on ice cream, the other two she saved
After that,there whereabouts weren't written on page
The chances of you seeing another one like this
Couldn't be calculated on one hundred abacuses
This perfect coin is the best ever seen
And the last one that sold went for two million green
If you've deep pockets, want to impress your friends
My rare silver dime must surely make you grin
For two million I'd say, "Going once" at that price
But now 2.5 million I'd say, "Going twice"
Anything over that I would gladly let it go
Pay three million right now and I'll holler, "SOLD"
By Daniel Turner
I love you just the way you are
(after they buff that awful scar)
and laser the tattoos over your heart
I'm sure we're destined never to part
Remember to tuck up that cute
double chin
and put those buttocks back where
they'd been
Do ask about Lypo and
wax that moustache
and while you are at it get those teeth
that flash
A beautiful smile in no time they say
it Looks great and it seems such a small
price to pay
For love such as ours that
withstands any crisis
so while you are there just look
into the prices
of permanent lashes and
green contacts honey
and buy some new clothes
for it's well worth the money
a wig or a dye job will top
off the look
and get those new nails that
we saw in that book
I love you for you
but it's so plain to see
There's really a much better you
you can be
So call me next year
after all transformations
(I'm sure you'll exceed all of
my expectations)
Just fax me a photo
I'll show it with pride
But remember I love you
for the you that's inside!
[Verse 1]
Looked out my window this morning
Past the skyline, steel and gray
The Sears Tower used to mean something
Now it just blocks the day
They told me the tallest get the glory
But the view don’t change your name
My tie’s too tight, the coffee’s bitter
And I can’t outrun the shame
[Verse 2]
Took the “L” in, half-awake
Headphones on, just hearing air
Pressed my face against the window
Saw my life reflected there
Last weekend at the Bean downtown
I caught a glimpse of someone else
Don’t know if I imagined it
But for a second, I looked like myself
[Chorus]
Cloudy days, fluorescent glow
Feels like I’m here, but I don’t know
If I ever meant to come this far
Or if I just forgot to go
Cloudy days, and I don’t speak
Light above me, but it don’t reach
And if this is how the story ends
Then I’ve got to write something different
[Verse 3]
She’s on the train most every morning
Reading something old and worn
Looks like she still knows the seasons
Doesn’t bend to where she’s torn
I wonder if she wonders too
What we’re all trying not to say
Would she smile if I said hello?
Or just fade back into gray
[Bridge]
If you’re chasing taller ceilings
Make sure your heart still fits inside
I bought into the pretty pictures
Now I flinch at my own pride
They’ll clap for you in marble lobbies
But won’t stay when curtains fall
You might reach the top by morning
And still not feel there at all
[Verse 4]
I started writing just to feel it
Didn’t plan for it to rhyme
But something real leaks through the cracks
When you’ve been quiet for too much time
Maybe I’ll ask her for that coffee
Maybe I’ll just walk through the park
No headphones, no disguise
Let this silence be my start
[Final Chorus]
Cloudless days — they’re still a dream
But I don’t need to fake the scene
I’m not a title, not a chair
Just a name and breath and open air
Cloudy days still come and go
But I don’t fold the way I did before
If this is how the light gets in
Then maybe I was meant for more
Another One Shuts Down (Corona virus version)
Gates and boards and reels of wire
Garbage by the gates
Driveway overgrown with grass
The factory is a state
Security checks once an hour
To make sure all's still locked
Another business shut it's door
the economy was rocked
Another workplace bites the dust
Another one shuts down
To find the business district here
You've got to leave the town
They're closing up 'bout one a month
Jobs are leaving by the score
When you leave, turn out the lights
And please folks, lock the door
Work is leaving faster than
It has ever in the past
There's more folks on assistance
How long will this all last?
Fifty years a hundred ten
Factories closing shop
There's more buildings that are vacant
Our growth came to a stop
It doesn't matter where you go
It's that damn covid one nine
If you are not essential
Out goes the "CLOSING" sign
It all comes down to profit
You're a number not a name
It doesn't matter where you go
Plant closure is the game
Another workplace bites the dust
Another one shuts down
To find the business district here
You've got to leave the town
They're closing up 'bout one a month
Jobs are leaving by the score
When you leave, turn out the lights
And please folks, lock the door
Sanity meted in batches
With healthcare served up in patches
It’s a dumpster dive
Just staying alive
To rely on raccoons playing with matches
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.’
Miles of roads while blowing horns
tiresome bodies their eyes are sore,
Trying to reach a rest stop to avoid
a jackknifed load.
Hauling the necessities to survive in this world,
whether it's Gas, Food or Motor oil.
Driving a semi the juggernaut of the road
maneuvering in all conditions even the blistering cold.
Away from Friends and Families away from their homes
Holidays and private events are void they're all alone.
A hard grip of the wheel avoiding reckless drivers
swerving in to unforseen debris blowing out tires.
A grueling shift comes to an end locking up the Trailer,
Arriving to the sanity of their homes ready to retire.™©
By: Shawn Munoz