Best Payroll Poems
Driving home in the dark
telegraph poles like a thousand crucifix's line my road.
Winding lanes leading home, but my life going nowhere.
Just a number on a plc payroll.
I'm just waiting to find out what will kill me.
There's no escape victim or violator we all die
slave to commerce.Can you live without it !.
My two up two down world
My body clock ticking down
Was I born or manufactured for some company's gain
A florescent light replaces my sun
and I talk, at the sound of call centre bleep
I'm no free man, a paid slave
not even human to the management crew
just another victim of corporate greed
to be tossed aside as my child takes my seat
on this cruel roller coaster ride
CALLED LIFE
comp entered 12/09
I went to the dentist
It had been awhile
Yet after much drilling
Followed by filling
The bills heaped in a pile
He said come twice a year
Or try to make it three
Brush three times a day
And floss the right way
And maybe just maybe
You’ll be a dental star
Which sounded bizarre
But did what I was told
Though received a scold
From that dental czar
He said come monthly please
To avoid tooth disease
And floss between breaths
Which was not life or death
Though it wasn’t a breeze
But it wasn’t enough
Oh, my dentist was tough
And then he dared to say
To come once a day!
While my tooth he did stuff
He seemed to be leaning
For a constant cleaning
Of all my dirty teeth
Both above and beneath
As if he was meaning
To be on my payroll
Funded by my poor soul
But he wanted power
To clean my teeth each hour
Or he’d have to drill holes
In more of my molars
He was a steamroller
Needing to do more
Which sounded like war
With him as a tooth gaoler
Yet his chair, I was in it
Every other minute
Every single day
For he got his way
And knew how to win it
Still, I did not make the grade
So he tried to persuade
To avoid drilling
And any more filling
He preferred that I stayed
Well I tried to be cross
Asking when do I floss
When he said, I reckon
We’ll clean each second
With no time left to pause
Thus, I reached the high bar
As a famed dental star
With no plaque to cleave
But, with no time to leave
I bid my life au revoir
This nation, this grand experiment in freedom, is lost.
We are in debt to nations that have never had freedom
And we are to blame. That great silent majority that did not vote.
and all those representatives that allowed us to fail.
A friend called it corporate greed I question the corporate
Up until now all I have done is observe.
It seems to have been a lifetime occupation
What could I have done to prevent this?
Can it be fixed?
Can we just cease paying the salaries and benefits
Of the representatives who have sold us out?
Is their blind ignorance and lack of character beyond recovery?
What kind of freedom is this that allows thievery?
In the name of taxation
Let's hide the enormity of it in payroll deductions
Social Security is a joke our representatives do not get
They have benefits that are way beyond that pittance
Why have we sunk into apathy so far we allowed it?
Why do we still allow it?
This trough they have built to wallow in should be
plated in gold and held up as an example for future
civilizations to fear.
I truly believe we have sunk beyond our capacity to recover.
As to survival? I and my family are capable of finding food and shelter
in New England.
Are You?
If true, as anthropologists report,
hide-and-seek entertains children of all languages
and cultural sport
throughout all humanity's extended family history
Might hiding-seeking
ubiquitously regenerate among children
as among haunted-hunting adults?
Gathering food to hide from hunger,
daily plowing for payroll plunder,
postulating procreation,
BusinessAsUsual playfull as workless,
taking turns hiding from gifted godlessness,
trusting divine spirits to continue seeking
my blend-in brand
of common-scented humanity.
While too tribally divine
to attract anthro-privileged notice,
my roommate cat, Simon,
also excels at both hiding and seeking,
terrorizing my unsuspecting shoe laces
as I naively strive to pass him by,
leave him behind,
as if I were in charge of times to hide
and reasons to seek.
Is not all science and life,
adult and childhood,
human natured and Other co-spirited?
Some hybrid hide-body/seek-mind
as marvelous neurosystemic stimuli
for curious re-searching
re-connecting
re-ligioning response
Wondrous where and how
our cat-godesses of destiny
will musingly pounce
Not sure we prefer too soon
over being last to win
such co-redeeming grace,
rejoining conscientific players
of cathartic evermore adventure
Seeing sight
beyond faith-filled hunting
seeking hauntingly contagious
hidden entrance
finding hopeful exit doors.
Two men were murdered in the Massachusetts town of Braintree.
They were Frederick Parmenter and Alessandro Berardelli.
Both were employees of the Slater-Morrill Shoe Factory.
The culpable individuals absconded with payroll money.
Two followers of the infamous anarchist Luigi Galleani
were immigrants Nicola Sacco and Bartolommeo Vanzetti.
Neither had police records, but espoused militant anarchy.
Both were connected to the Braintree murders circumstantially.
The two arrested men became world centers of controversy.
The first trial was filled with questionable testimony.
There were numerous requests from all over for clemency.
After two trials, the defendants were found guilty.
The twenty-second of August in 1927 was their last day.
Controversy about their involvements persists up to today.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.
A young Shepardflees fascist Italy,
in a boat crossing a tereachorous sea.
His rudimentary education,
ending sheep in Abruzzi, Italy.
His venture, to seek a life of freedom,
on the cold gold ground of La'mere-rr-ika.
He walked out of the pasture near Penna,
into the black pit coal holes of Scranton.
Pick and shovel in hand, clothed in black pitch,
a beacon light upon his tired head.
A young no-good lazy bastard "guinea"
working for a fast talking lying, "mickl".
Day and nighrt, night and day, anday annight.
pick, shovel, load, push, pick, shovel, load, push,
four weeks of darkness, thirty days of night.
Working double shift days in the coal pit,
sucking dust, ingesting coal from the hole,
a nickel a load for pasture clear lungs.
Greenback money in his empty pockets,
mark an "X", on the clear white payroll sheet,
then settle up with the company clerk,
paying his month long debt of servitude.
A slave to the industry of demand,
dictator Baron's that trade in black lung.
Days to months, months to years, a month of years,
living in clapboard company houses,
with bambino's running around his feet.
Just enough left for a couple of beers
and a gallon bottle of cheap vino,
then back to the grind with facist "mick",
Men would rave,
we have invented a machine,
to be our slave.
Sorting, processing and retrieving,
with inventory and payroll functions,
all tasks beyond believing.
In the end, we have to say,
multiplying work for the master,
the computer has had it's way.
"I had said, that some of our crew left their country on account of having been ruined by law; that I had already explained the meaning of the word; but he was at a loss how it should come to pass, that the lawwhich was intended for man's preservation, should be any man's ruin."
Jonathan Swift (1667 - 1745) was a cousin of the poet Dryden
Rondelet: On the payroll
On the payroll
The law causes more misery
On the payroll
Than what puts people on the dole
All judges accept salary
Are lawyers born divinity
On the payroll
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2012
High heels like peacocks on stilts
Eyes piercing like porcupine spikes
Bear heavy mascara like war paint
Lips so red like they’ve never been kissed
We suit up for the show down
The wardrobe mirror decides the crown
Our sway leading the way
Our e-goes leave the driveway
To jam the payroll en route the freeway
As we carve a niche along the concrete pathway
Dark sunglasses for added couture
Style galore in ‘Mzazi fosho!’
These are high stakes
The fashion police issue hefty fines for any mistakes
Sanctioning you off the fashion calendar
No points for ‘colour blockin’ and poor posture
The isle to the photocopier becomes the runway
The city streets become the fashion highways
The bugle calls and the drums they roll.
The trumpeters, now making the big policy calls.
The american nation have gone and elected an internet troll.
and a president that loves gold, put as no soul,
Who wants to build walls and will pay for extra border patrols
If your born of ethnic origin you may need to hide in a foxhole.
And I can see this planets going to get an even bigger ozone hole.
This mans on the banks and big businesses payroll.
I really wish with all my heart and soul.
that his mum and dad, had used birth control.
She told me she stopped drinking to avoid a hangover
This, I laughed at
She does a lot of things almost like idiocy but I wouldn’t dare call it that
Not doing things to evade the consequence sounds so chic
Like last week’s episode of desperate housewives
Indeed it sounds funny but I do it all the time
I stop laughing to avoid crying
I stop loving to avoid hating
And I stopped flying, to avoid the fall
It takes too much effort to think thus every so often I follow the path before me
What’s more dim-witted?
Doing something that works or doing something that’s been done before
I’m not certain but surely I’ll find out tomorrow
When my diary is full and my last tea leaf is stuck to the
bottom of the kettle
Most of my life will be a quest to understand myself
But here I am still inquiring
Questions are for the living and answers are for the dead
This is the only answer I have
In this way I am educated
More educated then the corporate men two blocks away
Drinking star bucks to inflate their egos every morning
Cancerous cells developed in their brain from the overdose of money
That is arranged by their payroll
And I can’t help but laugh at those battling each other on political stands
For even the child staring at me from the other side of the mirror understands
That the biggest battle is within ourselves
It takes a day to comprehend how molecules work, to build an atom bomb
But it’s taken mankind’s existence to discover how our own minds work
Man has done a lot of things almost like idiocy but I wouldn’t dare call it that
Trial
Is he not supposed to be a witness
This jelly fish who sounds witless?
Look as he’s is by the Suspect mauled
Feebly, out of Court as he crawled!
Hear the Prosecutor’s questions
Leading questions teach us lessons;
He might be a Suspect’s clever aide
On his payroll being heftily paid.
As the Judge’s eyes wisely sparkle
Are they not tuned by Devil’s knuckle?
He talks less scribbling something-
Damn it! He’s writing NOTHING!!
Justice system is now full of holes
Escaping to liberty a criminal’s ball!
JM
28th December 2013
Now gather round this here campfire
y'all kind good folk
Sit down get and make yourselves
real comfy and toast a marshmallow
Because this is a Freestyle Hoedown
ain't it all of us here have come to see
and i am about to get this party started
So here's a little ditty im about to spit
if you follow my flow and catch my drift
please feel free to join in and sing along
Hey- Diddle - Dee
Slap a my thigh
Fiddle - Dee- Dee
I'm a simple country boy at heart
not 1 of them city slicker
Who enjoys the simple things and
pleasures of the outdoors life such as
My shack and outhouse I constructed
myself with my own bare hands that
provides me shelter when I am not out
roaming the plains
A cowboy hat tin of beans cup of coffee
whiskey bottle and thick warm blanket
to sleep under the star's at night
I live off the land and anything else I
need it can't provide all I have to do
is take a ride into town I can purchase
from the supplies store
And my mode of transportation I use to
get there is my trusty Mustang of the
four legged type 1 B.H.P under the
hood that comes with a saddle
not 1 of the modern day muscle car variety
You see I'll take my chances all day long
Dancing with these Wild Wolves rather
than the one's on Wall street
Because at least there was some form
of law and a Sheriff in Dodge
Whereas
Wall street is totally and utterly lawless
run by cowboys who have the Sheriff's
and the Judge on their payroll
Who will railroad you straight to jail
choose to throw away the key or
hang you
Music Score provided by
( Deliverance Banjo )
&
( A Fistful of Dollars More )
&
( The Bad & the Downright Ugly )
When I'm licking toads I regress into a dream
Glory is bestowed you won't believe what I have seen
We travel this same road don't know where it may lead
The greedy overload take much more than they need
When I'm licking toads I slip inside a dream
After a smoke I think I know what this all means.
When my mind is high so much higher than a kite
Something stirs inside like my soul has taken flight
Those things that hide in life often side by side
Have faith that real Love will never tell a lie
When my mind is high like that flying kite
This feeling deep inside can never be denied.
When I feel like this I giggle like a loon
Could be really tall look down upon the moon
Life should be a ball wake every day at noon
Please don't crash and fall don't come home too soon
When I feel the urge to giggle like a loon
Body stays put my spirit surges past the moon.
When I'm on the roll and leaping cloud to cloud
It's nothing like a stroll through the Sheeping crowds
With policeman on payroll that shouldn't be allowed
The dick's shout like trolls so very very loud
When I'm on the roll and roaring through the crowds
I like nothing more than soaring through the clouds.
When I need to see there's more than meets the eye
I close them both and look out through my mind
The ignorant could think I'd be rendered blind
The arrogant would say it's all a waste of time
They can't see the joy hiding just behind the eyes
They have closed their eyes, but they have shut their minds.
When your spirits free and truly can it roam
Just Let It Be you'll find your own way home
You could follow me til your confidence has grown
There will come a time when you can make it on your own
When you spirits free and it's truly had a roam
Just Let It Be who cares if you make it home.
When evening turns t morning in barely but a blink
The realizations dawning from that time to think
Got no time for yawning need to find that missing link
You won't find me snoring but i'l teeter on the brink
When evening turns to morning hardly time to blink
The realizations dawning that I begin to stink.
Form:
a tumble maybe a rumble
of stone and steel
rubber wheels
down town
white satin gown
no
it is dust settled around
as dreams hit the ground
hear the rumble
of man and machine
mother nature stumbled and
coughed up a dusty scene
the musicians threw away their picks
and played their electric guitars with change
not elevator music to arrange
a pleasing melody runs and hides
drums fast and loud leap in strides
paper rain falls like confetti
with messages to all the free
alone in crowds of cameras clicking while
time bombs smile as they are ticking
some were born of the selected
some were payroll elected
all
cells of cells in a living world
given the grace
to live here as boy
to live here as girl
as the human race
a wave of civilization
rising to a crest
planning own
annihilation
same as all the rest
all the lives lost in war
swords and missiles can’t compare to
the wicked ways of
a nasty haze that
hangs within breath
inside and out
it will number our days as
we linger close to wealth
to survive man must love his fellow man
love both sea and land
and
if no one understands
find a way to settle another Earth