Best On Work Poems
When hard times come they sit a spell,
Like kin folk come to stay
A-packin' troubles, pets an' kids
That always get ‘n your way.
It's drought an' flood, an' flood an' drought,
There ain't much in-between.
You work like hell to make ’em good,
But still they’re sorta lean.
The ranch went under late last year,
The drought got mighty tough.
The boss held-out a long, long time,
But finally said, "enough!"
So here I am dispatchin’ cops
An’ watchin’ felons sleep,
In Junction, at the county jail,
A job I’ll prob’ly keep.
The wife, she works at Leisure Lodge,
Where older people stay,
A-makin’ beds an’ moppin’ floors
To earn some ‘extra’ pay.
Though “extra pay‘s” the term I used,
It goes to payin’ rent,
An’ after all the bills are paid,
We wonder where it went.
We hocked my saddle, guns an' chaps,
An' then our weddin' rings;
Then when we couldn't pay the loan,
They sold the 'dad-blamed' things.
We felt real bad a day or two
But then we let it go,
Cause it got Christmas for the kids
When money got real slow.
When hard times come they sit a spell,
Don't matter who you are;
They'll cost ya things you've set aside,
An' clean your cookie jar.
You'll loose some sleep an' worry some,
Won't pay to moan an' groan;
But hang on to your happiness,
They'll finally leave ya 'lone.
I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies
through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels
I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent of it
I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
Judge that
I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
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.
I have come to the point of decision
And I have decided in favour of love
Wisdom is not solely measured by experience
But more by capacity for it
I have glimpsed deep into history
I have sieved through its successes
...for the soundest advice I could find
Most profound I have received from the greatest achievers in its archives
I am a Student of Life
I am a Wordsmith of Optimism
And I am a Mason of the Castles of Dreams
This Trinity of Purpose for me goes hand in hand, side by side
Each benefits the other
Issue is, they set me apart from the others
Here I am, young when I should be intoxicated with the fads of modernity
Fortified with skills that are eager to pay the ordinary wages
But nay, I am not to be beleaguered
I focus ahead to perceive the greater rewards at the summation of days
For I place most value on the greatest wealth: WISDOM and HAPPINESS
I have come to the point of decision
And I have decided in favour of love
I choose to commit my heart entirely
To the work I love best
For it is this calling that shall liberate the sanctity of my humanity
The world I dwell in fathoms not a shred of my quest
For it views life through the lenses of reality
True as it may be that my work suffices not to endow me
...with common currency in these economic times
The rationale of my perception discerns far beyond this temporary mist
Let them roar their throats in laughter at my perceived stupidity
But it is their children and their children’s children that shall benefit most
...From this shelter of thoughts and dreams that for them I build
I expect no immediate remuneration for my onerous undertaking
For I rationalize it as a selfless gift to humanity
Hence I shall tap deep within to give all can give
I am determined to build this Shelter of Thoughts and Dreams
I have the basic skills hence I commit my willingness and ingenuity
The Good Gods shall present the mortar and bricks
The fear of failure has been permanently exiled from boarding my being
As my eyes are fixated on the prize
I am ready to pay the price
I was inspired once a long time ago
By something that I read
I never knew such amazing things
Could fill the inside of my head
I always thought that poetry
Was about love or romance,
I never knew it could be dark
Suddenly I was entranced.
A whole new world had opened up
And I could write about it all;
Anything that crossed my mind,
Anything I could recall.
And it was all because of a poem
I read one day at school;
The poem was entitled “The Raven”
And it was just so incredibly cruel,
I fell in love with the poem
And craved others that were the same;
But there was only one author that captured me
Edgar Allan Poe was his name.
Every poem or story that he wrote
Was like a beacon showing the way;
I never knew I could write about death
Without worrying what others would say
And so I took leaf out of his book,
And wrote about what I feel;
I was always afraid to express myself
But now it holds only appeal
It's one week till Christmas
And we've had enough
Of grumpy old shoppers
Complaining about stuff.
They hate the line-ups,
They hate the cashiers.
They won't be happy
Till they have us in tears.
The things they are after
Are long gone from the store.
They find it incredulous
We won't be getting more.
Last minute shoppers
Are a pain in the rump.
Each night by closing
This place looks like a dump.
One more week to go,
I sure hope we make it
But in the meantime
We'll just smile and fake it.
My favourite chair
Said to me one night
Hey! Highlander
What you going to write
Is it going to be a fantasy
A Haiku or a Senyru
What ever comes from your thoughts
It's from the inner you
I have supported and rested
While you have written your writes
From many an afternoon
Into the early morning light
You never get frustrated
You just sit and ponder
For you know there are words
They are just out yonder
This partnership we have
Will remain as close as ever
Until the end of our days
Will be the time to sever
We will continue to be
One and the same
I to support you
With poetry your aim
My entry into Matt Caliri's contest " Speak chair! Speak! "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-2.php
I
venture
Into art,
Casting myself,
I am focused with no destination.
_____________________________
For Brian's FIVE & TWENTY contest
I left my
heart in
a magical
place. A
place that
holds years
of wonder and
awe. A place that
knows me better
than any other place
I’ve been. This place
has changed me and
molded me into the
person I am now.
The forests, trees, creeks,
and open skies instilled in
me a love for God’s works.
The harshness of the winters has
taught me to be patient and to endure. My small
town is where I learned the small-town work ethic;
you don’t get what you don’t earn and earning what
you want takes a little bit of sweat and tears. Here
I learned that you don’t have to be blood to be
family. Brothers and sisters are made throughout
years of school together. We relied on each other to
be happy. This place will forever hold my heart and
soul. I am a small town girl through and through.
It’s who I will always be. Forever. Thanks IDAHO
for shaping me into something more than I was.
Pulled himself to the very top
Looked over the world on high
Felt the warm and stirring breeze
falling from the sky
Knowing this was how it felt
to soar above the land
To feel so safe away from things
so free to be alive
Yet down the pole we all must come
to touch the very ground
This is where we laugh and play
gives us what we need
The loving smile of a young girl's face
a women's tender care
For up above the pole to fly
is nothing but the air
But on the soil we grow and live
to reach out, to touch, to give
So keep your feet upon the ground
take a good long look around
and see if flying above the pole
isn't like living in a hole
from where you never see
the reaching hands pulling you down
pulling you down to be
a guinea fowl
molting polka dot feathers—
handmade earrings
© February 21, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Juxtaposition Haiku
Sponsored by: Charles Henderson
http://www.honoluluzoo.org/guineafowl.htm
The Shaman sits upon the sand,
the sand of ocher clay;
between the walls of ruins tall,
where ancient one did lay.
The sky above, the earth between;
took in her sincere pleas
tinksha’s toned, soft flutes droned,
her mantra’s dire decree.
To be the light on darkened paths,
within the night belayed;
and be the brave dark in the glow,
of God’s pristine light portrayed.
Her life long work no sacrifice
a love of mankind to display.
*One may be of any race or of almost any religion
and walk the Red Road. The Good Red Road is a path,
a way of living. It's full meaning is the way one acts,
the methods one uses, and what directs one's doing.
There is more to the Red Road than spoken word
or written words on paper. It is behavior, attitude,
a way of living, a way of "doing" with reverence -
of walking strong yet softly, so as not to harm
or disturb other life. The Red Road is a pathway to truth,
peace and harmony.
The job search continues, though unemployment has run out
For me, accepting a government handout set a precedent
If only the largest corporations are to qualify for bailouts
Then I’d like to shake up Washington and run for president
Not of the United States, no, I don’t want Obama’s job
But I’d like to take the reins of a business with some courage
To refuse taxpayer money like Ford, not GM on the rob
Like the public, I’d heal corporate wounds with my own bandage
Now I fill my hours volunteering for various causes
Senior centers and children’s groups show appreciation
Operating in the red, they are used to accepting losses
And in my heart I receive a different type of compensation
The sea was unusually wavy,
When a cook in the Royal Navy,
With a roll of the ship,
Accidentally slipped,
Inundating his captain with gravy.
Do people think you are sleazy and bad,
since the day you replied to that want ad?
The words were in black and white, and plain.
“No Experience Necessary, We Train”.
This job is not what most women would like to get,
However, it pays the bills and keeps you out of debt.
You live in a nice house, and drive a Corvette.
Of all the occupations anyone can seek,
there are not too many paying two grand a week.
They hired you for what came naturally.
Men easily discover your great beauty.
You have the looks of a centerfold in a magazine.
Your dancing in the club makes quite a scene.
A fight with your old man made him pack and go away.
He left you and your child unexpectedly one day.
You were desperate and needed a job right away.
It seems nobody was impressed with your resume.
Other employers apparently could not be convinced.
So many places only wanted experienced.
When you are dancing in the club each night,
men from all over think you are a delight.
Scantily clad, you erotically tease.
This is how you gather your gratuities.
Some men get obnoxious, and a bit out of hand.
Enforcers appear to take a stand.
A small team of bouncers comes out to greet.
The mashers land in the middle of the street.
Never mind what people think is wrong or right.
Many men like me will be seeing you tonight.