Best Management Poems
I've been doing some soul searching and it's time to wake up
Nasty comments on Facebook when religion issues come up
Really starting to suck!
I highly doubt that the management are up to any good
This morning I woke to a photo of ISIS no Robin Hood
I once wrote that the Internet can be a terrible place
Now I am convinced it is the beginning of the end for the human race
Before the Internet existed emotions ran raw
But they were contained to one single shore
Is this healthy for anyone at all?
Facebook is making the money and the owner is having a ball
Sadly a lot of people do not realize this at all
When something diabolical happens who will take the fall?
They made mammon somethng measurable, mighty, & magnificent,
everywhere that labor, exchange, & entertainment exist monuments
to money, large and small,
the genesis was excess manufacture
such as grain, gold, textiles & ceramics,
animals & people,
purveyors were born like corn on the cobb,
like mist in morning,
buearruacracies of religion & government emerged from the basic business
of buy & sell, structure was supplied by law & covetuousness,
the greed of need,
people enticed to sell their Spirit in the form of toil for products,
eventually for fiat currencies, profit took the place of contribution,
slavery evolved into serfdom,
from the plantation to the factory unproductive owners needed managers,
individuals with minimal compassion & maximum ambition, essence extractors,
the whip replaced by the 'write up' and tacit threat of poverty,
the iron chain supplanted by hopelessness of ignorance in limited training,dependency,
management believed in synergy,the kind that rewarded the few
at the expense of the many,
the river of Life tore into the irrigation of wealth for selected heredity,
bussinessmen want employees & citizens with low self esteem, shallow interests & passions,
economy as cosmos, profits as pieties, workers as sinners,
edicts of 'minimum wage' and requirements for age are simply Market stabilizers
implemented to ensure profit,
taxes a financial plan of slave paid for regulation,
the management caste, the sociological strata designed to keep laborors feeling underachieving,
crows squawking against crows so that dragons fly free -
J.A.B.
I started a class for kids recently.
It’s fulfilling, but takes up so much time.
I’ve work ‘til five, and class ‘til eight, roughly.
If I’m to sleep, nothing is left for rhyme.
If I choose poetry instead of dreams,
I’m unable to write verse the next day.
It’s as difficult a fix as it seems.
In the end, my mind’s forfeit to decay.
b>Time Management and the Art of Throwing Alarm Clocks
by
Lemuel Griffiths
March, 2,017
Apparently, there's a God damned dog out there - according to my neighbour,
And his wife, Thelma, needs to understand this and know about the mess and understand it's consistency and have this information and keep it and hide it and all five minutes before my alarm goes off.
The trees sway in the distance as I run the water into the kettle - wiping my eyes with a knuckle.
The gulls saw past., thrilled at the the new morn.
In 200 hundred years, they'll all be gone.., and these trees.., and that neighbour and his nemesis and Thelma and the alarm clock and me.
The kettle clicks and the steam rises -
Up and onto the large mirror.., made of sand and heat that the former tenants put on the ceiling.
I look up..., and down.. we're both amused for a second.., The phone rings.
It flips onto record mode
A voice , a man.., an angry man.
There's an authority in his voice.., like a..,
Damn it.., my boss.
It's not the weekend anymore.
His weekend, mine.., Thelmas, the dogs
The weekend is unowned now.., by anyone.
Gone, never to return.
The first one of March, never to return..,
This March, the dead end job.
And all the things come.., right along to pass.
Once in a while..,
I wish back,
With all my beating heart..,
For those glorious and golden five minutes of dream and non existence - I lost..,
Before that Dog damned God. <>
ANGER MANAGEMENT
I must clean my bare-naked window,
For my eyes have seen a nasty affair.
Surely Monica can't be that bimbo!
I wipe my eyes, can't hardly stare...
My boss thinks i'm calm, anger free.
I shuffle him through my new place.
Up here the air's so clear... but what do i see?!
I rub my eyes - once, twice. No not her face!
"What! Get off my sister!", in haste I scream.
Is that my best friend? Can it be?!
I must wake up from this nasty dream!
My eyes...my eyes...with rage...i can't see.
My boss on edge of window cliff,
He visualizes a raving lunatic.
His face freezes, he looks mighty stiff.
He thinks i'm lovestruck or mighty sick.
In the end it all turns out fine, except for
Me, for i'm back in the anger management registry.
But my best friend and sis love each other forevermore.
We all hug... i'm fine knowing they have chemistry.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Point of view, Ross, on the tv show Friends
Love in my life, flashes like a comet.
Still, memorable moments of forelsket.
I call it R.A.G.A.S…. cherished love tags!
I know, you are just too curious to hear those funny gags!
My mom…007 James Bond’s perfect clone.
The perfect dodger, an invisible cyclone.
Ms Boffin! She’s just another drone.
Oops! I am never out of her zone.
My first crush, “R”, handsome and dark, So so so cool!
Our hearts melted in the swimming pool.
Water was our sky; every dive became a memorable flight.
Mom’s presence was our plight.
She caught his gaze; her indirect counselling was on rage.
Patience of two days, most furious feud then, on the stage.
Spring faded into sad fall foliage.
“S”! His presence was like a beautiful seiche.
In my dreams, I created my perfect niche.
Known for his domineering will and strenuous style.
My eyes always followed him through the aisle.
Hand in hand, under the trench.
Always sitting, on the same bench.
Both of us on cloud nine!
But the climax reached in no time.
Across the road, he stood there to wave good bye.
Just then, my zooming car stopped near my poor guy.
Mom just uttered, “My daughter is my princess, how can a pauper touch the sky?”
Next few days were, poor sighs!
At basketball ground, on jogging rounds, coaching classes and allllll around.
“A” my new neighbour, short and stout, with him happiness was abound.
Mom’s abhorrence was again getting profound.
Day and night scary dreams began to hound.
Her hatred began to multiply like the Sensex cents and pounds.
How could I tell her, it was just a confound!
Continue to read PART2...
13/03/2019
Slavery
enslavement
force of self-imposed ownership
overpowering another's ego-ownership,
anthro-morbid,
collective ego-morphic tolerance of identity rape,
fear and anger, together building hate,
from which enslavement derives;
a culturally camouflaged nondual co-arising relationship
of codependent despair,
self-hatred.
Enslaving force perpetuates Ego's full-blown angry reduction
in self-identity,
deduction of self,
as someone who could "own" another's Ego-healthy will
for equivalent freedom from my freedom
to enslave another's life,
exterior and interior.
Slave and poverty development owners
internally enslaved by our own hypocritical hubris,
swimming upstream into economically encrusted perpetuation
of cognitive and affective dissonance,
chronic anxious homelessness,
hopelessness that I cannot afford to be more co-empathic,
healthier on my own,
than we are together
on Earth's owner-ship.
Those nations,
corporations,
families,
individuals
addicted to retaining
and further developing
vastly disproportionate wealth deposits,
divorced from our own cooperative health and well-being investments,
not only steal from those without enough to thrive,
but also slink away from our own collective mental health,
anxiously fearing freedom's inevitable reparations,
struggling to repress awareness of nondual codependent enslavement
into entropic death of species.
Hatred combines anger about past with fear of future.
"Anger Management" politics might choose a more transparent therapeutic label,
"Hatred Co-Arising Suppression".
Decomposing hatred first breathes through "I am Anger,"
listening for Time's healing simmer,
then decomposing anger about past violations
to embrace rational fears of deadly toxins
enslaving equitable prospects for a healthy future.
It feels healthy to remember we are Anger
with ourselves
and with each other
before,
without sustaining against ourselves or others,
perpetuating enslaving hatred
for mental health stolen from those without sufficient wealth
to thrive
to feed
our own unhealthy enslaving greed.
Dispirited slavery imposes greedy unnatural ownership,
dreadful wealthy lust for power
co-arising with holistic health's decreasing power,
globally and personally,
without as within.
Very bad karma,
total lack of grace,
not our way to Win-Win race.
Management consultants will loudly proclaim,
"There isn't a crisis that we cannot tame!"
I just wish they'd bother to engage their brain,
So we didn't end up with "ready, fire, aim!"
Variations on a Punishing Theme
When people are hungry and at risk of homelessness
despair
chronic depression
and climatic extinction
Is it because their leaders
and community developers,
learning incubators
and technical assistance providers,
grantors and lenders,
representatives
and public sector service providers
absorb too many investments and nutrients
for their own mouths and mortgages?
sleeping soundly at night
unaware of how their Continuous Quality Improvement intentions
economically and ecologically miss their mark
of solidarity and mutual subsidiarity,
of recreating the comfort and nutrients
they intended to invest in those with greater need.
Perhaps the self-blaming unruliness of hungry homeless people
Is due to oversight interference of well-intended practitioners
expert administrators
senior consultants
expertly dominating fragile margins of poverty
feeding dissonant anger and fear
and mistrust.
Chronically at-risk species fear living death's dissonance
and entropic non-thrival trends,
Because we are anxious to survive,
to build life; not so much death and perpetual advent.
Wilting personal lives
have no bandwidth left
for righting macrosystemic death trends.
It is mutual-mentors who co-invest in cooperative thriving,
That incarnate wise evolution of deep ecologically balancing lives.
Self-composting toilets
have surprisingly greater nurturing value
to people without a pot to pee in
than community-composting banks
and governments.
Bad management isn't that like the captain and the crew of a sinking ship telling his passengers that there is not a thing he can do but he'll do his best to save their lives but yet the captain and the 2 first mates escape in the lifeboat while the passengers drown
The Devil got the sack last week
He’s feeling at a loss
For several thousand years now
He’s been in charge, the boss
The new man’s changing everything
Hired a whole new team
The place is so much nicer
A more relaxed regime
Red hot pokers up the ****
De rigueur, they are not
Only those that ask, will get
A poker up their bot
There’s been a change of fragrance too
Well, sulphurs so outré
Seems Lily of the valley
Is the order of the day
We’re getting leather sofas, which
Could well be here quite soon
And a squad of decorators
Working hard in every room
Now they’ve fixed the air conditioner
It’s behaving as it should
Hell is rather pleasant
In fact it’s jolly good
So when you pop your clogs
And you’re deciding where to go
Forget the trip to Heaven
It’s much better down below
Wise men
Somberly Pondering
Over Imponderables
What if.........
Why not .......
Cut, Cut .....
Master Tailors
Or Gardeners
Snipping at Schedules
And Budgets .....
Topiarists!
Anger sets in, deep in the mind.
Amygdala fires up, logic becomes blind.
Tightness of chest, muscles tensing, preparing for fight or flight.
Anger sets in, deep in the mind.
Thoughts crash and topple trying to find.
Scrambling to make sense, to rationalise!
Eyes widen, jaw stiffens as adrenaline flies!
Anger sets in, deep in the mind.
Darkness is craved from the logical side.
Trying to find somewhere to hide.
Quiet needed now to temper the mind.
Alone with yourself but of a different kind.
Anger sets in, deep in the mind.
Rage containment, holding back the tide.
Sitting still, of warring will to contain the anger inside.
Draining strength to cool the blazing fire.
When anger sets in, deep in the mind.
"If you want to build a ship,
don't drum up the men to gather wood,
divide the work,
and give orders."
"Instead,
teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
When the management of personal relationships
and/or political unions
has degraded from empowering shared visions
for mental/physical health
and environmental safety
and ecologically wise economic prosperity
To disempowering unshared
unenlightened
fear and anger about what we can no longer afford
to keep losing
and continue loving
Then we have reduced
EarthTribe's inter-religious Golden Rule
to merely aspiring to do no further harm
to compassionate win/win reputations
now lose/lose trashed
Powering over hard lessons
in polarizing
victimizing
criminalizing
argue, fuss, and fight
trauma mismanagement
When we could have chosen resilient peace
while sailing through Earth's resonant beauty
if we could revisit
deeply listening for what we all need
before speaking with active curiosity
eye to eye.
Under No Management
A sad state of mind emergency,
rooted sorrow buried deep within.
Evacuated thought mind urgency,
isolated all alone to weep again.
Sirens, horns, lights flashing,
mentally dialing 911 inside.
Trains, cars, planes all crashing,
wreckages of tears eternally cried.
Mental blue spaced handicap parking,
unrecorded reality in empty closet space.
The brightlights pen flashed sparkling,
No manager home to manage this place...
bmdavey@
002/24/17