Best Job Poems
At the window, palms under my chin,
such beauty I see, out the frosted pane,
I was mesmerized, it showed in my grin,
so picture perfect, the snow covered lane.
My daydream was dashed, Mom called from the door,
"time to brave the cold and clear the sidewalk,"
grabbed my winter coat and boots from the floor,
I hate this chore, but knew not to back-talk.
"Don't slip on the ice, watch out for the plow,"
I hear, as orange shovel meets concrete,
shouldn't the county have this done by now?,
this takes all day, with snow piled up in feet.
Why freeze for allowance, I'll never know,
yet, I still find myself shoveling snow.
November 18th, 2014
Sara Kendrick's contest - "Jobs"
Gene stood. Skyscraper demanding. Cold steel.
Thirty-five hard years. Over now. Just like that.
Corrugated box. Family photo. Timex watch.
Bitter coffee.
Stale sweat.
He walked out. Sun blaze. Fireball. Air thick.
Sidewalk. Familiar corner. Man there.
Black skin. Weathered face. Cardboard sign.
Gene stopped. Eyes met. Silent understanding.
"Seen you," the man said.
Gene nodded. "Fifteen and a half years."
"Never spoke."
"No. Never did."
Gene sat. Concrete cracked. Chill. Hands trembling.
"Lost everything," he said, eyes downcast.
Shame heavy. Guilt girded.
The man waited. Silent. Eyes knowing.
"Wife. Cancer. Kids ghosted. Job now too."
Gene's voice cracked. "Wasted. Empty. Life."
The man reached down. Pulled out a bottle.
"Drink?" he asked.
Gene nodded. Took it. Swigged deep.
Bourbon burned. Good burn. Real.
"First honest thing. In years."
They sat. Shadows lengthened. City hummed.
Bottle passed. Back. Forth. No words.
Gene breathed. First time in years.
Bygone dreams. Flickered. Misty.
Husband. Father. Provider. Lost Purpose.
Night fell. Stars peeked. Traffic thinned.
Gene stood. Legs unsteady. Mind unclear
"Thanks," he said,
The man nodded. "Tomorrow comes" –
Gene stared out. Horizon blurred. “That was yesterday.”
Street light flickered. Old worn dress shoes.
A sound.
Empty bottle.
Spinning.
Parting gift. Timex.
Ticking...
Job Well Done
Momma, when you died I ask God 'Why'
He answered me quickly 'HER JOB IS DONE'
I started to cry pleading out to God
'That's my mother and I love her Dearly'.
God simply wispered close to my ear
'That's my child and I love her Dearer'.
I did'nt give up moma I CRIED out more
'I want to make her happy in life
and give her things that's nice'.
I heard a strong voice right close
to My ear no wisper just clear.
'I HAVE HER JUST REWARD'
I understood momma than and there
that there's nothing on earth
good enough for you here. By: Nedra Wilson {NOLA Poet}
Building castles in the air,
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
You were the brightest stars in your own skies
In empty space you built your dreams
Behind computer screens
You rode in long expensive cars
Drank in all the trendy bars
As all the while you lied and bet
Against the ones who'd hoped to get
A piece of our communal pie;
They bought your homes and you bought the lie.
It was all an inside job
Pulled by a faceless mob
Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
It was all an inside job
By a thoughtless, greedy mob
Of men who rob the poor to sleep on silk.
Smoking candles, fallen flowers
Foreclosed homes and broken hours -
This is the aftermath of what you've done,
Games ill played, once begun.
The rich get richer
Though they've painted us the picture
Of what happens when you set the weasels free.
They've no concern for you or care for me
Or the discrepancies we see;
Should be enough for us that they should always be.
No ones' punished, no one pays,
They remain complacent in their ways.
It was all an inside job
Staged by an untouched mob
Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
It was an inside job
Perpetrated by the mob
Of men who rob the poor and sleep on silk.
So now this evil season
Has descended without reason
As the sheep will stand and wait
To receive their unearned fate.
I hope you're proud, you sleep at night
While masses live by candlelight
May your riches find you lone and cold
When you find yourself frail and old
When no one mourns your passing days
When none thought loyal will ever stay
To watch with you all through the coming gloom
That pushes you, alone, into your tomb.
Castle building in the air
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
The brightest stars will dim away
Replaced by others, other days.
So it goes, the inside job
Brought off by the black suited mob
The bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
The framers of the inside job
That heartless, faithless, grasping mob
Will one day drown, beneath a sea of silk.
It was very hard for me growing up
As had to raise my two months old cousin.
Me! An adult at the age of six, yup.
After three years, my aunt gave birth to twins.
Then, three years more and their sister was born
To get trained after getting a degree
In the populated house, was forlorn.
Thought for a job to have my own life’s spree.
Then, the uncle and aunt died suddenly
Leaving my four cousins under my care.
And my dream to have my own died wholly
Though my head said, “No, It’s not fair, not fair”.
But my heart won over my head duly
Now the four cousins are my life only
+++
Based on a true story
December 8, 2014
Form: Sonnet: (Tetrameter)
Second Place Win
Counted on howmanysyllables.com (Total 140)
Still the Worst Job Ever
How do I hold thee, let me count the ways.
I hold thee trembling, beneath kitchen sinks
crouched in the darkness of the brightest days
guiding thy beam as his patience shrinks.
I hold thee dulled by lightning’s fearsome flash
shakily awaiting unseen anger
tortured by the inevitable crash
intrigued by the neediness of danger.
I hold thee wide eyed in dirt-floored cellar
your flame slow flickering on edge of sight
dimming through the range of yellowed color
draining the darkness from a darkened night.
I hold thee, for my brothers all have fled
I hold thee, not knowing what they dread.
11/13/2014
Submitted for - Sara Kendrick - Jobs – Poetry Contest
I’m excited, I got a job
I now work for Bob Bob’s Gob Shop
They asked me to stand outside and sell
These white packets, of what I cannot tell
But I was shifting the goods a hundred an hour
I felt alive excited and empowered
Mothers and fathers were buying off me
And giving their kids, who named the stuff LSD
I didn’t hear it clearly at first,
Until I was arrested and that’s when I feared the worst
The police took me to their van
God only knows I tried to run and then… Man,
I got the tasered,
And did a twenty-five second bad imitation of Bob Marley crossed with Jo Fraser
They called me a dope peddler
An addict enforcing meddler
The cops tasered me again and beat me up
Then left me laying in a pile, yelping like a helpless pup
Then took me to a room with a table that had a pile of white powder,
And three inch black sticks they called hash, my mouth went sour.
They questioned me further demanding who was my supplier
As they kept me dancing at the end of the taser wire
I screamed Bob and Bob of the Gob Shop
They stopped and said this must be their under cover job
Just then the chief of police walked in
He looked at me with that we gotcha grin
He took a bit of the white powder and put it on the tip of his tongue
Then with s surprised look as if he got stung
The chief of police quickly picked me up dusted me off and apologised
He said “Don’t worry sir, I’ll punish these guys”
One policemen said “But sir his a drug dealler, selling LSD?”
“How could you be willing to set him free”
The Chief shouted “YES THIS IS LSD, NOW READ MY LIPS”
“LIQUORICE SHERBET DIPS”
Well as a consolation, I got a house and a car out of them,
Never went back to that job again.
Me and McGee, Both needed a job
But the Boss, only needed One man
So he gave us a test
To find who was best
It seemed like a very fair plan
We finished the quiz, we done in a wiz
As we handed them to the old Sod
Then we waited to see
Just who would it be,
The one going home with a job
Then he said right to me
It's as plain as could be
Although your tested the same
The job is all yours
You'll be running my stores
Then thanked McGee having came
So I asked the boss
Why'd you give him the toss
Since we both got the last question wrong
Then He proceeded to say
In a professional way
And explaining it didn’t take long
"Well, when, at the last question
You wrote "I don't know”
And I won’t say your friend is a cheater
But on the same question
McGee, went and wrote
A simple reply 'Me Neither"
And God answered Job from a howling hurricane
"Who is he who dares to cry and complain?
Who is he who dares to stray from his path?
Who questions and doubts me? Who kindles my wrath?
Stand now before me, I demand it of thee
Do you see in my future? Do you know what will be?
Your mind is too tiny to comprehend why!"
Job said, "My mouth will be shut, I cannot reply."
"I have spoken of things I do not understand
Things far too wonderful for one mortal man
Now mine eyes see the wonder of thy glorious light
Helpless before thee; I give up the fight
And fall on my knees as I know that I must
Face down, I repent in ashes and dust."
Job 42:6
We've reviewed your resume, and...
It's only one job, after all.
...While your qualifications are impressive,...
I can always apply for another, of course.
It's only one job, after all.
...We don't have an opening for you at this time...
I can always apply for another, of course.
...We'll keep your resume on file, however...
...We don't have an opening for you at this time...
Jobs are a lot like buses, actually.
...We'll keep your resume on file, however...
If I miss this one, I'll just catch the next one.
Jobs are a lot like buses, actually.
...And we'll contact you in the future...
If I miss this one, I'll just catch the next one.
...should a job matching your qualifications open up...
Then again, if the bus drivers go on strike--
...While your qualifications are impressive...
~ I'd be toast, wouldn't I?
...We've reviewed your resume, and...
Here is my dreamiest, dream job.
I will get to drive a fire truck and use the sirens - all the way to work and back. The gasoline will be paid for by my company.
There will be no committees, and no paperwork. No one will be required to do anything they do not want to do.
Everyone will be the boss of themselves. We will get to design our own luxurious offices. We decide what our work is.
The woman next to me is designing houses for people who do not have them. I am running a creative writing center slash art studio for pre-teens and full teenagers.
The woman who envisioned this company pays us what we decide we are worth. My best friend spends her day in an enormous greenhouse creating hybrids.
We eat a family style lunch and brainstorm our terrific ideas with each other. There is a lot of laughter, the walls exude joy. We want to stay late.
We have a hot tub, a swimming pool, daycare center, school, and arcade on the premises. The school is manned day and night, even weekends, so our children can go to school and learn geometry or psychiatry, or zoology at any age. All they have to do is talk to the teacher. They can go to school on Saturdays and all night! They love school because the curriculum is designed around their interests.
We can play whenever we want to play, swim whenever we want to swim, design whatever we want to design. Supplies are unlimited. Paper, pencils, coffee, fruit snacks, lunches, and suppers, are all free.
We design our day the way we feel it should go. My perfect career makes me feel respected, and is fulfilling in so many ways. My friends are here, and we help each other so often, they are my family; I am part of theirs also. We each have an apartment if we want to live here. It is soundproof so we can sleep at any time. Naps are encouraged. The perfect workplace. The only time we leave is to worship, because it is strongly encouraged to get away for one day and worship the deity and religion or non-religion of our choice.
As a former executive recruiter, I used to hear about some incredible things that applicants have said on job interviews. A few of them are a bit 'spicy' to list here, but here are some choice tidbits:
My name's John. But you can call me 'Lizard.'
You forgot to offer me a cup of coffee.
I left 'street address' blank. I live in a trailer park.
Your last name is Spears? Related to Brittney?
I'm on my fourth marriage. So far, so good.
Before we talk about the actual job, can we talk money?
Between you and me, I couldn't stand my last boss.
Are there any gay bars near here?
I left my last job because the work wasn't meaningful enough.
Put me close to the bathroom. I have issues.
So, how do you like Trump?
I didn't see the 'Meditation Room.'
What's your policy on music?
Can I park my bicycle here in the office?
I have to leave early every Thursday for my AA meetings.
My hair's not long now like it was in college.
Let me show you some pictures of my kids...
August 01, 2019
Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List
Dear Heart
I have a strange job at work,
What I do is quite unique,
I do it each and every day,
Every day of the long work week.
My job is to freeze all I see,
Make time stop for everyone,
Then I go around undoing the bad,
Wherever bad's been done.
And this makes my day stretch out,
Becoming like a week,
A week of silently fixing things,
A week where no one can speak.
But, oddly, I’m not sure if my boss
Knows exactly what I do,
That I fix the bad stuff she does at work,
I don’t think she has a clue.
Get a job! (Soapbox Poetry)
Reaching your hand in another man’s pocket
Taking your fill, still you’re screaming for more
Limits are reached due to faults in the system
What do our children have waiting in store?
~~~
Why should I work when you owe me a living?
I cast my vote so you’ll pay in my name
Making excuses, yes that’s what I’m good at
It’s never me, someone else is to blame
Can’t take that job, for it’s too far beneath me
Flipping those burgers will send me to drink
I’ll sit at home watching reruns of Dallas
Lost in the sofa and close to the brink
She lives next door and she’s up every morning
Riding the bus so she can get ahead
Feeding her children and wants no assistance
It’s so much easier staying in bed
He walks to work, seven miles down the highway
That is so dumb and why can’t he see
Just a short stroll down the way to the mailbox
All that you need will be given for free
Look at the news, the work force is tanking
Why even try when they hand me the cash
Maybe some food and a six-pack of Miller
Leaving enough for my getting high stash
~~~
It is so sad the state of our nation
Laziness now is a medal to wear
Please bear in mind this is just my opinion
Just a few thoughts that I wanted to share
Ok, I know I will get some flack for this and yes, many, many do need assistance because of health problems, disabilities, etc. I have no problem with that, but just as many take advantage of the system, making it tough for those who truly need it. I work hard for a living and I know there are jobs out there if people want to do them. Maybe they aren’t glamorous or what some saw themselves doing, but they are out there.
He is a failure, my cousin Tee said.
How so?
He had two businesses, neither of them made it.
Yes, he is a loser, Cousin Dexter chimed in.
What were they?
A bakery, and a laundry mat.
So he can bake and do laundry! I said smartly. Sounds like a good catch.
They both laughed.
What does he do now? They did not know, so I found out.
He works at a Wal-mart, I told them. He is the manager.
So I asked them, “instead of a failure, would it be possible that he successfully
Eliminated two careers for one that is working for him now?”
My cousins looked at me.
You are odd, Dexter said. Tee nodded.
I smiled, proud to be odd.