Best Labor Day Poems
Got kidnaped from my African village,
tossed on a big, long ship that sailed far away
Stripped of every decent human privilege,
forced to work on short sleep, long hours, no pay
Didn’t come to America on a pleasure cruise,
land of freedom wasn’t nothing but fake news
Forced to work on short sleep, long hours, no pay
Looks like to me, everyday is hard Labor Day
Of january starting a new year
Of heart messages written on colored paper in february
and my birthday in april
of green cabbage and corned beef in march
Of hot dogs and hamburgers in may for memorial day
the beginning of summer in june
And fireworks in july
The summer coming to an end in august
Labor day gatherings before the kids start back to school in september
Spooks and goblins prancing through the street in october
A turkey feast in november
And everyone opening gifts in december.
July 27,2013. Humorous
Special Days
Written: by Tom Wright
4/13/2006
It seems that for almost everything
We’ve set aside a special day.
We recognize others for their work
And sometimes for their play;
There’s a day set aside for Mothers
And likewise for Fathers too;
I’m sure that in this hodgepodge
There’s one that will cover you.
There’s a day to honor our Veterans,
Our police, firemen and teachers;
A National Fan Day even exists
For those who fill the bleachers.
There is New Years, and Ash Wednesday,
And Saint Valentine’s Day too.
And yes, the hard working Secretary
At last has been given her due.
We honor a few past Presidents,
Palm Sunday and beginning of Lent;
Our calendar has gotten so crowded
But Easter Sunday is time well spent.
We’ve Christmas, and Thanksgiving
And we recognize Flag Day too.
Then there’s Martin Luther King Day
And I suspect for a Boy Named Sue.
Armed forces and Daylight Savings
Each has their very own day.
Labor Day and Columbus too
Are remembered in this special way;
We’ve Election Day, and Bosses Day,
We honor the Devil on Halloween.
And then there’s old St. Patrick’s
For the donning of the green;
There’s Boxing Day and Yom Kipper
And the gobs between I’ve missed.
That I classify as the minor ones
I could name if you should insist.
Birthdays, and Anniversaries,
We treat really special too.
With all these days to remember
Just what is a guy to do?
Even old Phil the Ground Hog
His day has long been real.
It’s enough to cause a country boy
To shout, Hey, what’s the deal?
Labor day holiday is laughingly laborious
Pack a punch of partying
On one only lonely playful day
Tonight the trio sets the timepiece to
alarm again in the am another
Work and school worry with the rules day
Contest: Alliteration
Sponsor: John Freeman
Lonely hours, seems
You've lived quite often
Silence in the shame
Of your sacred day
Blue light through your eyes
Shines an open coffin
Gleaming miracles on the way
Broken windows
Winter broken windows
False visions have you seen
Ice melts softly into tears
In your fluid still life scene
Wasn't it you who said "nothing Matters?"
It wasn't you who said
"Life''s a holiday."
The broad
masses
of the American
people
celebrate on Labor day
the efforts
that
the
hard working
people
of the past
have made
to build a
better place
for those descendants to
live in
This Labor Day
reflect on the
struggles that
we've gone through
over the last
couple of hundred years
The late Studs Terkel
knew this well
He is gone
but left a legacy for us
Whatever you do for a living
you should be honored on
this day
and take a minute or two
to think about
those how have
struggled
so that the rest of us
can have a better life
HAPPY LABOR DAY
To give a correct memory to May
On my computer’s Internet I look
Where I find stories of courageous way.
And in my mind I see remind to shook
Grave and dignified people to protest
In the painted cover of an old book.
But against them violence addressed
The legal power serving their boss
Which for law and order there messed.
When workers with police got across
Were shot abruptly with fear and dismay
Although they asked to fulfil a loss.
When was estabilshed then the labor day?
The Knights of Labor people’s work to honor
As date picked up the first day of May.
Labor Day
By Franklin Price
9/7/2015
Labor day is so confusing
We celebrate our job
Yet anyone who's laboring
Is not part of the mob
The majority have taken off
For this antonymic holiday
Maybe have a cook-out
Or take a trip away
I hope you have a great day
With good friends to drink and dine
May the hardest labor you perform
Be to pop the cork to have some wine
GO BLUE!!
University of Michigan Football- Into The Blue Contest
Labor Day comes it's college football season
my family has been waiting all year
some think it's crazy that the reason
is University of Michigan football is here!
Maize and blue, the colors of the team
dazed and confused I become the black sheep
my hubby and daughter stand up and scream
while I secretly pray for their score in my sleep.
See, I'm a closet fan and always have been
I pretend not to care, but I really do
I need to know what mood hubby will be in
oh my, how we love the wolverines... GO BLUE!!!
Date Written: January 10, 2016
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Check your closets and your drawers;
Summer's end is almost here.
Labor Day’s the signal
Certain clothes must disappear.
For we know the custom dictates
That this holiday’s approach
Means that if you’re still in flip-flops,
You’ll be viewed with some reproach.
And whoever wrote the rule book
Felt that he or she was right
When declaring after Labor Day,
No one should dress in white.
When you choose tomorrow’s outfit,
Pick white shorts or pants and shoes,
For the days are numbered when those clothes
Are ones you’re free to choose.
Just don’t say I didn’t warn you
If you give in to caprice;
Flaunting white September second
Will bring on the fashion police!
Another holiday has come to pass and I am no prouder to be an American than when it started.
What are these holidays for I ask myself?
Are they designed for the little man to feel like he’s getting a break from the monotony of
a humdrum workday. Rest him up and throw him back to the dogs or is it about big money. Seems everyone is having a sale or going out of business sale. These furniture stores go out of business more that a nickel bag crack seller on a Wednesday night on the Jersey Shore. Can you imagine working for one for these slime ball opertions? One day you got a job, the next day who knows. How does that conversation go?
“Hey listen Margaret, we are having another sale.”
“Oh no not another sale, is this a going out of business or and everything must go sale?
I haven’t seen my daughter in 5 years since that last everything must go sale. She wasn’t even suppose to be here for the love of Pete.”
“No, no nothing like that we are going out of business but will open again Monday. That thing with your daughter, well those Chinese’s people made us and offer we just couldn’t refuse, you understand.”
My other favorite is the 5 years no interest financing on everything in the store. They know you aren’t going to pay and that one day you’ll get hit up for 36% interest.
And for Christ Sakes where do they get the “actors” for these TV ads? Are they washed up **** stars that couldn’t make the grade or just some fat cats concubine that thinks she’s in the movies now? Look Elsie I am on TV…does that belt make me look fat? It ain’t the belt honey.
So goes another Labor Day/Memorial Day/Fourth of July/Presidents Day/ Martin Luther King Day/….it really cheapens America and what we stand for, and I for one am ready to end this downward slide into the bowels of America and say we combine them all into one big week, yeah Garage Sale Week. Now that’s an American tradition that has stood the test of time!
On Labor Day we celebrate
The workers of the world,
Quite often with a big parade
Where banners are unfurled.
But there’s another Labor Day
Which every mother’s sworn
Is more important; it’s the day
On which a baby’s born.
For labor’s a generic term
Although, for what it’s worth,
The toughest labor I have known
Is that of giving birth.
So happy Labor Day to all
No matter what your work,
Whether brand-new wailing baby
Or parade’s your well-earned perk.
Tell me again
This wealth you gasp and clamour for
This strategy you wield
From the invincible substratum
Where the hunt pursues the frenzied heart
And the congestive traffic of arteriosclerosis
For what do you deal
The long evenings swinging on the green and
The soul's sanity again?
I have checked for definitions
One say it is production from the land
And I hear in it engines
Ripping out the earth's red heart
Another say it is a product of labour
And I imagine a weary mother
And the pains of dystocia
Besides you own no land
Where concrete does not mushroom
Into skyscrapers
And dirt abominable in the atmosphere
And I guess labor is not physical.
Some say it is a measure of value
Of what you own
Was that the members of my body
For I pay tax for
Is a mere rental, not mine.
Easement only entitles me
To brown paper bags blowing in the gust
And the oily wrap of hamburger papers
I never bought them
They just fell where I bare the cost without the benefits.
Men who own revenue are rich
You say it is policy
That the labourers clock in at eight
I say its power
That make men to make wealth
They give away for the pittance of wage
All morning I have watched them
As they check their assets of grief
Before getting to security at the gate
Grief is suspicious you know
Only terrorists have grievances.
We bring our last resolve to work
The heart like a derrick
Grappling with the weight in the sky.
It is all your wealth
His mother phlegmatic coughing
And asbestos dust
Thickening on the lip of the child
I have no love for the Midas disease
For still its free
The open air
The sun cracking nuts in a tree
And the wild shout of cataract
And below me the immense gorge
Where the water trickles
Under the dam
Irrevocably to the sea.
LATE AUGUST
It’s late August with Labor Day on my mind
Something sharp and indistinct is in the air
I sense it all along my prickled skin
My forehead in my hair
Kids would seem to play more frantically as though to say
“All is quit right after Labor Day.”
Denver always has a big parade
It’s really not for us
Men have traded guns for overalls
Tanks and silver helmets for baker’s builder’s trucks
The bands are poor and few plain-shoed players not too fine
The working men keep tipping hats walk in staggered lines
One good thing late August brings
A smell of football’s in the air
A roll on churchyard grass –
You’re tackled miss a pass
There are a few good things late August brings
To soften thoughts of school opening
BUT
Mother’s busy with needle and thread
A trip downtown
To Gano Downs
The dread “Back to School Sale”
Summer freedom came when the
last bell rang, telling us that summer
vacation had started.
No more teachers telling us what to do,
no more homework, until after Labor Day.
Time for us to do what we wanted.
Sleeping in and all the freedom we wanted
was ours for the taking.
Bike riding until our legs ached,
but we didn't care one bit.
Swimming holes in the country
was where we headed on those
long hot days.
Friends together doing what
we loved.
Watching lighting bugs
as they flew over our heads
was such a joy.
Telling ghost stories or
about men from outer space
coming down to visit us.
Movies, reading our comics
on a raining day, what a tender
memory that was. Childhood days
went by way to fast as did
our summer vacation, we were
always wanting to hold on to summer,
knowing that Labor Day would soon be
here and back to school we would go.
Written 8-11-11