Best 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.
"A Woman's Work Is Never Done",
a phrase that's often heard.
There's a lot of truth that's hidden,
just in those few words.
She has to cook and clean the house
and get her youngsters off to school.
She does the laundry and the shopping
and teaches kids the "Golden Rule".
She drives them to the movies
and attends their school events.
She satisfies her husbands needs,
her life is real intense!
She asks for little in return,
she just does what must be done.
She feels it's all the woman's job,
and sometimes, it's even fun!
So kudos to those women.
Let's stand and give a toast.
They accomplish all these many tasks,
for the folks that they love most.
Next time the phrase is uttered,
"A Woman's Work Is Never Done",
pray that God will bless them all,
each and every one!
Many thanks to all you ladies.
God bless each and everyone of you.
She's dressed in freshly laundered scrubs,
a floral top and pants pale blue.
There for a moment to hand me a gown,
and tell me what to do.
As I'm getting undressed, she checks on a man,
he's in the room right next to mine.
He's crying in pain and begging for help,
I hear her tell him that he'll be fine.
A few moments later, the crying has stopped,
as she leaves she turns out his light.
Whatever she did, it's done the trick,
he'll be able to sleep tonight.
She's back with me now and with her this time,
she has her tools in tow.
It's 3 in the morning and she must be tired,
but if she is it doesn't show.
Thermometer ready to check my 'temp,
lift my tongue and tuck it under.
As she wraps the black cuff around my arm,
I watch her and I wonder.
Working twelve hour shifts,
three days off then four days on.
Has she a husband or any children,
who miss her when she's gone?
Does she like cooking or singing?
Does she paint or like to read?
The needle, she pricks me, with such precision,
I hardly even bleed.
My IV's in place, my medicine given,
she says goodnight with eyes so kind.
Just as I'm drifting off into sleep,
a thought suddenly enters my mind.
To this woman I leave my health in her hands,
a serious matter, this isn't a game.
It strikes me as crazy just how much I trust her,
when all I know of her is simply her name.
By~Michelle Lacey
“The
children
are always
interrupting.
You never have time
for me,” her husband whined
as he dropped his dirty clothes
right there on the floor by the bed.
Trying not to roll her eyes, she gave
this quick response to her disgruntled spouse:
“The kids, chores and mishaps have me spinning,
and you tell me you feel rejected.
To have a blissful home takes two.
Consideration is key.
I’m also missing you!
To be successful
in our bed, take
time OUT of
it. . . for
ME!”
A Double Etheree written May 27, 2012
for David Williams'
The Three H's Poetry Contest
I laugh out loud
every time I hear a politician say,
that the best way to enrich a black person's life,
is to give them a job
Give them some work to do
Labor is the way out of poverty ---
are you kidding me!
They got the nerve,
telling a black person in America
they need to work
Put the shoulder to the grinding wheel,
get to know the sweaty brow feel
Getting employed will solve most of
black people's problems, politicians say
Hard work will bring an honest dollar our way
But I got a problem
with that four-letter word: work
I am bold enough to speak for my people
on this urgent matter
Telling us we need to work some more,
in order for things to get better for us
No! We worked long enough
Four hundred years is a long enough time, don't you think
We been working ever since
we got off those slave ships that didn't sink
We worked hard
at keeping our eyes and voices low
We worked hard
at pretending that we're slow
We worked even harder
at grinning and gritting our teeth
But we worked the hardest
at not getting lynched on a tree
Listen to me:
This is the children of slaves reality,
the living in America experience
of feeling the societal lash daily
Of being looked down on,
of being spurned and frowned upon
Politicians say they helped us all they could,
that entitlements didn't do no good
And only work can get us to where we need to be ...
sounds a lot like old-time slavery to me
No! We worked long enough
Four hundred years is a long enough time, I would think
We been working ever since
we got off those slave ships that didn't sink
We worked hard
at not getting pecked to death by Jim Crow
We worked hard
at trying to survive under the poverty line below
We worked even harder
at not telling the oppressor everything we know
But we worked the hardest
at letting our unchained KKKourage show
Yes! We worked long enough ...
now it's time for us to rest
Will you pay us back for that?
I reminisce, I miss.... The smell of fresh home baked cookies, today they come from a box of stale goodies. Please and thank you, now very seldom heard. When kids were kids just having fun, not tied to a computer so they cannot run. Life was work hard with simple things, like flowers you would bring. The days of old are long gone, never to return. The ones I loved, the ones that loved me are all gone. I reminisce, I miss....
Date Written: 3/17/2021
3/19/2021 Poem of the Day
"And"
1 Place
I REMINSSE I MISSContest Judged: 4/13/2021
Sponsored by: James Edward Lee Sr.
I let up the shade, as the sun has gone down
watching evening come in at the end of the day
It brings with it colors of umber and rust
while earth swallows dusk, which is fading to grey
From the living room window, I am hoping to see
geese flying back to their warm winter homes
All nature seems normal, routine, once again
whatever normal we can find after rain
Winter is coming and a new year begins
How will it be now, this journey, untried?
As we travel new miles, fresh grief on our sleeves,
with a tremulous smile, and with anguish and pride
Cold days arrive....There is talk on the hill
where tall pine trees have whispered
reminding the creek, and the ash trees are shedding
and katydids will not call out condolences in the dark
Soon enough, when the lark sings, wet grass will need tending
stacks of shutters will need painting,
and snow will yet need to be pushed aside
How will they cope..?
He's not here to do it...but somehow we hope
they will wade their way through it..
But for now , at a kitchen table
for these brief moments, they are able
to laugh, argue, and have fun...
Someone shouts out, "I won!"..
Joy is hard work...but it needs to be done
_________________________________________________________
Strangers are attacking me;
ruthless men seek my life—
men without regard for God. Selah
Psalm 54:3
GOD SEES THE COURAGEOUS AT WORK
Wild-eyed disregard for God —
The mocking tone, the spittoon.
The leering eyes —
they’re tiger’s eyes.
They plop near the weights —
the courageous snakes, and
throw balls of cannon smoke.
They hope that we will choke.
The courageous throw acid
in a virgin’s angelic face.
The courageous pounds their rusted
nails into fragile wrists and ankle saints —
these innocents whose haloed guardian’s
see the illuminated face of almighty God.
The courageous divide fetus parts,
roll them like dice, put them on display.
The courageous pillage, rape and sodomize
thinking if there’s a God, he will see it as sport.
They drink deeply the heart blood and soul
but none can escape the Ancient of Days.
Life is a pit, a mere hole for the courageous
to drown. They’ve looked for a fiery dragon
And he’s been found, awaiting the demise
of as many curs-ed petals he can find.
Selah…
if only for a moment the dead blinked,
the light of day might have saved their hide.
The brokenhearted will feast at the King’s table.
with no need to fear when evil is deceased.
9/24/2019
She wore a gingham apron,
battled dirt on hands and knees
while garments washed swayed brightly
on a clothesline in the breeze.
She sewed and worked a garden,
did the dishes all by hand;
her wiggling giggling kids
would straighten up at her command.
Her leftovers were loved as much
as was the ginger cake
she drizzled with that special sauce
she always used to make.
Today they’d call her backwards,
for no feminist was she!
But all she’d ever daydreamed of
was what she came to be.
(For Mac's "Anything Goes Again" contest)
small gifts -
contributing to other's happiness?
# show me a man or woman of simple mind
people who we commonly term as slow #
point out ====>
people
of simple means
My father is a hero.
He stands so tall and proud.
His hands are firm, But gentle.
He stands out in a crowd.
People stop to Thank him.
For Freedom he does fight.
My father is a Soldier.
But he's my Dad at night!
New Deal
Black Tuesday
October 1929
Vanishing wealth; stocks decline
Great Dust Bowl
Windstorms and drought, top soil gone
Breadbasket empty; nature’s con
FDR
He’s the man, New Deal imposed
Opportunities renewed; hopes rose
New Deal Reigns
Work offered by the CCC
Saves the lost American dream
Recession Echo
The winter plunge 2009
Who will save our dreams this time?
Reality Knocks
Frustration with Congress, current events
November elections a time to vent
New Deal Needed
Americans looking for leadership
Power from sheep about to be stripped
*For Constance, a Rambling Poet’s “Create your own form, maybe?” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire
I work frequently in this form that I choose to call “Headline Couplets.” It includes a
headline followed by rhyming couplets that address the concept, person or event in
the first line of three-line verses. Probably inspired by my years as a journalist.
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.
International Earth day prompts us not to forget
that the world we inhabit is under great threat
Blue oceans are being choked by plastic pollution
reduce, reuse and recycle is the simple solution
The balance of nature has been upset by man
species close to extinction, poachers strike if they can
If we don’t act quickly these rare breeds we’ll lose
their only protection is in nature reserves or zoos
Felling the rain forest is an issue we must combat
deforestation is destroying animal’s natural habitat
The effects of global warming on earth is far reaching
reducing fossil fuels is what we should be preaching
Educating both young and old is the key to success
we must act together to try to sort out earth’s mess
2/17/19
a carpenter chisels creativity ~ his son saves souls
[First of May: Here in Malta, apart from celebrating Labour Day,
we also celebrate the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker.]
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A Work Perspective Monoku Contest
containing alliteration.
Sponsored by Beata Agustin
© 5th May 2022