Best Home Office Poems
Under quarantine, I am asked, along with many other people,
to stay inside my house -
except if I should go out for necessity’s sake.
I have no quarrel with this.
In fact, I count myself fortunate that I am not required
to drive a semi like my husband, who has asthma.
Nor must I work in a hospital, like my sister,
who has to work inside one to help support her family.
I am not forced to work facing a stream of customers inside a grocery store,
irate because they find no toilet paper in the store.
I do not have to work at any job in order to maintain health insurance
or feel forced to work as a sole provider of a household.
My boss has allowed me to continue working in my part-time job
from the comfort of my home office,
and for now, all is going well in that regard.
Furthermore, I love my house!
I have a comfy bed, televisions upstairs and down,
computers, running water, food, and electricity.
My dog is here to keep me company
and my husband is with me
from morning to night on days he isn't driving.
Friends and family are a phone-call away.
If I want, I can walk the dog on quiet blocks of my neighborhood
or simply step out onto my porch, breathe fresh air
and feel excitement for sunny days coming,
for I have to believe that Spring IS coming for us all.
Many in the world right now are not nearly
so blessed as I am.
I worry for my loved ones who have to leave their homes
to work on “front lines” for their livelihoods
and for the world’s poor who live paycheck to paycheck,
or worse, may be homeless and on the streets.
I worry for my husband, a good man who suffers from anxiety,
facing the threat of a virus everytime he goes out on the road.
Meanwhile I get to stay inside my house -and I say this thankfully,
for "here" is my home - my castle - my sanctuary.
April 3, 2020
for "Quarantine Poems" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
High above clouds
You flew
Radar focusing beneath
In search of prey.
Image fell on screen
One walking in haste
His head bowed down
Wondering at
Mismatching arithmetic
At home, office
Breaking his back
To meet ends both
Nebulous mind.
Flare in your eyes
Like a diving bird
Impertinent crash landing
Sharp claws clung
An ascension with prey
Into unreachable heights
Vanishing into thin blue.
A quill is shed
Life drops dead.
Everybody in the building knew
what happened the other day
Everybody in your home office knew too,
your carefully crafted cover was blown
Big news media explosion made it get blown away,
no one now believes a word you say
Years of portraying yourself as something you were not,
exposed now as a blowhard who simply bragged a lot
Said you would’ve taken down Mafia gangster John Gotti,
if you’d been given the chance,
Boasted you would’ve captured terrorist Osama Bin-Laden,
if he hadn’t turned rabbit and ran
Big talking security guard you were ...
until the robbery occurred
Cameras caught you in the ladies bathroom hiding,
and your cowardly shame went viral
You became a national joke
Comedians said you were protecting those scared women,
who had their skirts down
Witnesses said you were inch-worming towards the toilet stalls
with your face hugging the ground
Some enterprising entrepreneur was selling T-shirts that said:
“Throwing a thug birthday party?
Then you need a Rent-a-Cop clown”
And it had your face printed on the front
Now your wife don’t wanna be seen in public with you,
and your kids are catching it, getting mocked at school
“Company Hero”
is the name your co-workers have derisively given you
The only reason you still got your job,
is because of all the free publicity your company received
Even bad publicity sometimes is good
You’ve earned your cowardly stripes with dishonor
Alcoholic erasers can’t seem to wipe away
this awful blackboard stained memory
Nobody’s making Facebook friends with a hero wannabe
Nowadays, you don’t talk much to anyone
And every dream fantasy outcome
of that pride emasculating display,
ends with you firing away ... heroically saving the day
Shooting holes in the heart of your fears,
killing them one by one
Then lovingly, kissing the barrel
of your smoking hot gun
“What’s One?”
Guru of algebra: One is One.
Suffrage agitator: One is vote.
Labour party leader: “Claps” is ONE.
Conservative party leader: ONE is “claps”.
Egalitarian: One is ANY.
Sociologist: One is many.
Psychiatrist: One is hidden.
Philosopher: One is what.
Brother polygamist: One is a quarter.
Dictator: 1 is I.
Home Office Minister: ONE is who.
Poet: two are halves of one.
Tunis, March 2010
My dad lay in bed, ready to go to sleep.
I asked him "Dad, do you remember me?"
" I was your daughter. Your only child.
Just take your time Dad, think for a
while."
" Look at these pictures of you and me,
do they spark your memory?"
" These pictures that you see, is a
birthday party you threw for me."
She held him close in disbelief and asked
over again. "Do you remember
me?"
" She said look closely, do you recall?"
A puzzled look on Dad's face, said it all.
He responded. " I'm, sorry honey, I wish I
could. His sad response she understood.
His memories just disappeared. Leaving
her with heartfelt tears.
Alzheimer's disease has found it's way.
Much to a loving daughter's, great dismay.
Her Dad doesn't know her anymore. Now
she carries special memories of him and
her.
Alzheimer's Association is
a wonderful Charity to make
a donations to. Home office:
225 North Michigan Ave FL.17,
Chicago Illinois 60601
May God bless those who
contribute to this great cause,
to find a cure. You never know
if it may affect someone in
your family or friends. Please
share your own personal stories
in the comments, if you have
any. Thank you...
Recess Bell
Where'd it go
That twice a day relief
Leaving behind blackboard's chalk-lines
To immerse in the blacktop chalk-lines
That place where hop scotch
Poison line
River ball
Target ball
Quickly made chalk nubs
Made innocent everyone's fun
Made sad classroom returns
That ringing in our ears
Announcing freedom time
Now but a morning and afternoon
Workplace coffee break
Signaled by silent bells
Company rules
Good for morale
Where'd it go
The real breaks of our youth
That escape from control-seeking minds
Racing across playgrounds
Making sweat that was real
Laughter that was infectious
Exhaustion no amount of
Head-time on the desk
Could relieve
Chalkboards out
Monitor screens in
Grownup hours made endless
Stress related focus
9 to 5 at the desk
7 to 10 at home-office sanctum
Homework
The evolved institution
Resulting in maybe...
Possibly getting...
A gold pen?
A gold watch?
A golden parachute?
Maybe?
Recognition
Reward
Life's profit margin
Remaining ever questionable
Apology #2
From:
The corporate office
Omaha, Nebraska
To:
T. Hunter
Subject :
Stupidity harassment from one D. Hunter
Dear Ms. Hunter,
We were shocked and appalled to hear about the unfortunate display of stupidity by one of our employees; a Mr. D Hunter, whom I believe is your husband.
We here at the corporate office want to assure you
that we have a zero tolerance of stupidity as had been reported to us.
Unfortunately, our records indicate that Mr. Hunter appears to be a repeat offender on various callous and bewildering acts of stupidity.
We want to assure you that action has been taking to insure this type of harassment does not take place in the future.
Mr. Hunter will be subject to severe disciplinary action,
which could include, but not limited to the following:
1) flogging, by a licensed flogger.
2) 3 days of wearing pink glasses and headphones.
3) 16 straight hours of watching "psyche ".
(Please note, we only use this last action, if all else fails ).
We hope that this will cure said Mr. Hunter from being stupid in the future,
but alas, it's hard to predict stupid.
So please accept our humble apologies for any distress this may have caused.
Feel free to contact us with any questions you may have.
Sincerely,
The home office.
pots of very hot tea
silence
dog on the quilt in my bed
rests his head on my lap
MAC, workbooks, spread around
writing
answering
students are sleepy, clients are lazy
rain smudges my outdoor view
close my eyes rest back on the pillows
cant move
but why should I
a rare and perfect day
When an office manager doesn’t make his or her quota,
he or she can be sent to Bismarck, North Dakota.
Sometimes, it gets colder there than Anchorage, Alaska.
Does the company have an establishment in Siberia?
Even though they have been in the home office for a while,
managers may find themselves going off into exile.
To the average person with a family, it is not great
when they have to pull up their stakes and relocate.
That is the time to sever ties with the company.
To find something closer, send out a resume.
photography
needed a dark room
poetry
had to have a home office
dogs and cats
built a compound
painting
where is my art studio?
my hobbies are a result of my obsessive personality
They usually last two years, two and a half tops
Poetry has lasted four, and painting has lasted six
These two are the exceptions
Maybe because I was always looking for them
Your Return Has Been Selected for Audit
By Elton Camp
The government letter that Joe read
Every taxpayers so much does dread
“Your return, for audit, has been picked.”
Joe is certain that, by the IRS, he’s licked
Tax advice he accepted from his brother
But wishes he’d listened to some other
“There’s no way you will get caught.
Just the way I file is what you ought.”
The thousands Joe said he gave his church
He fears the lie has left him in the lurch
The 1985 model car to charity he gave away
Was worth ten thousand, he did unwisely say
Claiming that he supplied a client a $200 dinner
To the IRS has made him look just like a sinner
The home office deduction he decided to claim
Is another fraud that the IRS will be able to name
Joe began to loudly scream and fearfully wail
And wondered if he would spend time in jail
A penalty pinned down my conscious,
When a high volt power injected me unsuspended shock,
Unawakened and unconscious,
I cried as a fish, out of water.
Imagination of discrimination terrified me,
My soul was jerking with dizziness,
The democratic system was trembling,
The bureaucracy was pinning the nibs into my dreams.
Not only once, terminology of deeds,
Curriculummed deliberation of considerations,
And ranked bribery and recommendations,
To reward innocence and honesty,
To secure human values,
A system was highjacked by think tanks.
As I experienced after applying a vacancy online,
Where home office advertised descriptions of a job,
And declined with direct approach in moments,
I experienced my capabilities,
Home office departments, on various occasions,
Rewarded me, a safe and tolerated direction,
And provoked me to enjoy the fire with my qualifications,
To protect my future from cold weather.
Not only Home office also local councils,
Highjacked individual progress and prosperity,
Criminality always delivered justice of excuses,
Where democratic equal opportunity services policy,
That was lying dead on a log of ice.
My pain was streaming into flames,
My throat was drying with the taste of equal opportunism.
I was imprisoned into the democratic boundaries,
Where my performance was demarcated into various barriers,
My soul was delivering justice through my poetry,
But my unemployment forced me always,
To learn about high ranked poor and victimized positions,
And my tolerances run down after touching a sore of sand.
The bubbling rust was claiming superiority,
Law is equal for all.
Have you ever received an invitation from Death.
I did because someone in the home office overlooked that I had died once.
I died last year and I did not like it. No one greeted me and there was no music playing over the loud speakers.
Wherever my body want after jumping off that flying carpet was poorly lit.
No streets lights or directional signs that pointed up or down or right or left.
Unlike Dorothy in the land of Oz
I had no road map or guides to lead me.
The Unified Field I found myself in was dark and void like a Black Hole.
But where all things were possible and it was up to my imagination to do whatever it was that I wanted to do or not.
There was no time and no light and no physical matter to speak of but only my consciousnesses and that split into many dimensions.
I saw myself watching my other self and speak to my other self that was speaking to myself that had inhabit that body that I had left when I died.
Me and I and we spoke telepathic and made a decision to return back to that old physical body because it really was not time to take the next step.
So when the office of Death finally caught up with me when I came back to life and said that they were sorry but my account had expired.
I laugh at the agent of Death and said too late I have paid my the price that was due and when my time comes again I will consider my options.
The home office became synonymous with covid. Men built desks, for their wives, with their bare hands. Once again, a hammer and nails, took to a tree. Once again, and perhaps, for such a time as this, a husband found out just how hard at work his wife truly is.
—quote by poet
Taking Licks
Lily licks my hand
with tiny sandpaper tongue
as far as it goes
fur’s unruffled on desk shelf
on tenterhooks, daughter works
…on an Amtrak train.
Business-class from DC to Trenton.
It's the work rush.
There is a white man.
Dark eyes.
Gray temples…
Southern.
Loud.
Acting important. Unimportant.
Let's call him John.
...5 rows behind him something I see something standing.
A flicker?
He's been on his cell phone since he boarded.
He's talking loud, in a rush, fear in the undercurrent of this voice.
An unnoticed waver…as if he's in his home office.
Knowing but without knowing …
His eyes roam. Nervous.
It's toxic and spreading…
Everyone else on the train “seems”…
Unbothered.
Unscathed.
Unnoticed.
Everyone sees but does not!
You can feel the tension…it!
It is sharp like a razor.
Everyone is secretly annoyed. Scared?
There standing a shadow even in the light! A figure?
...white eyeless sockets, staring.
The shadowy thing begins moving, gliding…
To him!
Around him…
People are avoiding it,
something,
unknown,
unseen!
Without understanding. Blind!
He writes down a number.
…stands up and looks around frantically. Moving…
People pass...
Him. It.
Into twilight BOUND!