Best Supervisor Poems
His knowledge was his untapped wellspring,
After 93 years of learning anew;
He valued knowing something about everything,
From construction & farming, to baseball & screws.
Early in life, a dairy farm taught him,
To think on his feet, with vast common sense;
Learning math at the sawmill, he estimated lumber,
And rebuilt old motors, appliances & fences.
For years he delivered, automobile parts,
To Tar Heel cities & Outer Banks towns;
Till one day, Wayne County rewarded his smarts,
With leadership to run, their buildings and grounds.
A Lion's Club/Odd Fellow—active for decades,
Making differences in the lives of many;
A loyal church member, a Jack of all trades,
Directing great efforts, that helped countless plenty!
Later in life, he started Smith’s Crafts,
With Logs that told Weather--Cow Clocks that told time;
Wrote a book on a bell, he loved to autograph,
Reading local history aloud, literary passion sublime!
His legacy is people, warm and loving,
Celebrating them in visits near and far;
Shelton Eugene Smith, Sr. a one-of-a-kind,
Honored by many, remembered by all!
(In honor & Memory of one of the world’s most fascinating men)
I'm in charge of everything.
It's my responsibility,
To keep control of everything,
Maintaining the tranquility,
Of everything and everyone,
And see that all runs well;
For this workplace is my domain,
I watch the rise and swell,
Of all the comp'ny's status quo,
And employee relations,
Making sure that everyone,
Is mindful of their station.
My shift will be the perfect one,
And if not heads will roll.
I want to see a perfect score,
When tallying day's toll.
The boss must know it's not just that,
I'm so dependable,
I'm more than just a pretty face,
I'm indispensable.
The boss must see that I'm the one,
Who runs things by and large;
A well oiled machine is this,
Because I am in charge.
Judy Ball
Sometimes in an effort to do a good job and gain the respect of our superiors we tend to forget what's really important. While it's iimportant to do your job to the best of your ability we must remember that the mark of a good leader is the ability to shoulder authority without growing muscles in your head. ;p
We met again this time the salvation army
on Lake Michigan the four children and I
with child were homeless after a horrid
experience when all of a sudden standing
before me the German man seeking my help
investigating the ultimate betrayal I suppose
corruption the war on weapons drugs
at it's complete finest my job consisted
of wearing wires connected to my womb
with an odd attachment that was placed
in my pockets I entered the dwellings
and purchased weapons drugs ammunition
I wondered if the fbi could hear
the baby heart beat rather they could
actually tell the difference between
mine and the fetus my hands were
sweating as we approached the unseemly
hostage situations I felt as if we were
a family fbi supervisor Heimbach supervised
the operation before leaving taking my children
to the beach singing as if this day was of
sheer peace odd notions arose beneath
a sullen sphere of fight flight I simply
swallowed fear unable to breathe until
20 years later imagine that on my
government job on an Airforce base
time shattered into I was back there
panting shaking eyes wide concerned
troops gathered asking my unit my division
was I special opt Delta force Charlie company
was I from desert storm which war did I serve
I was just a mom standing before me medic
embracing me come back mother come back
holding my chest heart pounding like thunder
slowly responding with great wonder and toil
this war on weapons drugs on American soil
Do this, not the other,
Don't go out, just stay with work rather.
For I am here to supervise,
You should always ask for my advice.
If you want to conspire,
I will play with 'fire and hire'.
OMG! where such rules apply,
Decide soon to..fly..fly..fly
https://www.facebook.com/StMatthewsEpiscopalChurch
a knowledge miser
when he had become wiser
now a supervisor
what we did intend
much money to them will lend
all of it can spend
price gains and gains
from all of our money drains
price high still remains
more oil can create
high price will eradicate
how to educate
great start made to stitch
are not sure the one or which
that did have a glitch
new one we have found
was a townhouse on the ground
silent with no sound
His anger plows my heart
but does not plant any seeds
weeds of anger he grafts
on the ridges and valleys
of work I can do so well
he sits so smug
and condescending there
in his ergonomic, black
leather chair
behind a slab of tinted
plexiglass
on stainless-steel, to him
a touch of class.
Being watched I have no words
but make us do the other
So many restrictions
make us feel trapped
When it's just the two
I see my smile
just in daily life
Instead of in your shadow
while you talk
To feel like I'm walking wtih you
and not behind you
I try to look back
and don't know if I want to
So much frustration
I need to try again
and calm myself down
Maybe accept and live the rules
and don't fight them
We'll see
I have two weeks to try again
It had begun again the terrorist threats
at first right at the height of my writers block
leaving beautiful gems surfaced from my minds
eye that was when the head lights parked baring
strange death threats plastered on license plates
interesting I closed my drapes shut my blinds shutters
when a red dot began dancing all over my living room
it had been two decades since my stalker fatal attraction
arrived with her gunman committing home invasions
in my townhome scattering a few poems an yet this
resulted in this man dying at my feet he was sent
to end my life over my own American poetry
there I was desperate with only the notion of the
federal bureau of investigations realizing I was this
confidential human source who wore wires pregnant
because the FBI told me my life was in danger on the
count of this madman had committed an arson murder
killing nine elderly person in hiding broken frightened
expressing myself through prose never knowing this
arsonist wise guy faked his death to get away with
the murders and decided to latch on to my American
poetry a score to pay off corruption to bully my
American poetry racketeer my life hence my death
for sport attempts on my life sending domestic terrorist
to enter my room ripping pages on my night stand
I can't imagine the bureau's reaction receiving my
desperate call of home invasions please help I screamed
thieves are after my poetry you see for me poetry
was this healing coping therapy for the panic attacks
the fear the anxiety the ptsd of surviving being
a confidential human source I could still hear
my fetus heart beating decades later seated
on my bed this red dots bounced off the wall
landing on my chest the killers were back enraged
basically forcing me to continue writing to fund
organized crime and corruption I peeked through
the blinds face to face with an assault rifle pointed
at my bedroom window could poetry really be worth
killing the writer how do one survive domestic terrorist
I close my eyes I see the gunman coughing up blood odd
I see the arsonist parked with my stalker a fatal attraction
literature is America's fine culture poetry is a gift from God
In your researcher’s mind protect
The picked title of your project
“How to A New School establish
With not a single cursed blemish”
As a great help to respondent
Brave words: “Do not be despondent”
But that is where it should just end.
Do not, please, try to one befriend
Thesis to be no more valid,
If one, on its account, livid
Or you choose enticement: Evil’s
And project becomes the Devil’s
Please, all questions to be answered
Except the ones I have censored;
Submission Date: Next Tomorrow…
But you could pay to time borrow.