Best Work Day Poems
'...and then the lighting of the lamps.'
-T.S. Eliot
Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening
settles o'er the fields, the day is fading;
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster,
vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading.
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering
in candlelight, the cows are coming home;
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight,
the animals are safe, no need to roam.
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting
for the exertions of the day ahead;
farmers partake, extinguish their candles
to darkness, and then take themselves to bed
to pray for courage to endure their toil,
for days they spend in harness to the soil.
(This is something different. Playing around and having some creative fun. One word per line, three lines per stanza. What do you think? Tear it apart and share your thoughts, opinions and criticisms. Thanks)
Another
Work
Day
Alarm
Shower
Coffee
Husband
Wife
Goodbye
Driving
Car
Work
Neighbor
Wife
Bedroom
Coffee
Sex
Cigarettes
Forgetting
Husband
Laptop
Taking
Off-ramp
Next
Crawling
Traffic
Congested
Turning
Car
Around
Driving
Home
Again
Parking
Driveway
Home
Panicking
Wife
Disbelief
Hiding
Neighbor
Closet
Approaching
Husband
Door
Greets
Husband
Door
Kisses
Wife
Entry
Smelling
Husband
Cigarettes
Smoke
Wife
Doesn’t
Searching
Husband
Suspicious
Increasing
Husband
Anger
Backyard
Cigarettes
Found
Questioning
Husband
Livid
Denies
Wife
Tears
Investigating
House
Yelling
Following
Wife
Pleading
Searching
Bedroom
Threatening
Approaching
Husband
Closet
Intercepts
Husband
Wife
Pushing
Wife
Floor
Tearing
Wife
Hysterics
Opening
Husband
Closet
Standing
Neighbor
Closet
Pleading
Wife
Tears
Holding
Husband’s
Pistol
Trembling
Neighbor’s
Hands
Infuriated
Husband
Roars
BANG
BANG
BANG
Ringing
Ears
Smoke
Hysterical
Wife
Crying
Stumbling
Husband
Floor
Closing
Neighbor
Husband
One
Head
Shot
Pooling
Blood
Floor
Bleeding
Husband
Dead
Shot
Own
Gun
Sharing
Husband’s
Bed
Adultery
Wife
Whore
Coward
Neighbor
Murderer
Scarlet
Wife
Accessory
Awaits
Prison
Both
(Based on a true story. This happened a few blocks from my previous residence. I took some creative liberties with the story, names are fictional.)
When I Take a long time to finish, I am slow,
When my boss takes a long time, he is thorough,
When I don't do it, I am lazy,
When my boss does not do it, he is busy,
When I do something without being told, I am trying to be smart,
When my boss does the same, he takes the initiative,
When I please my boss, I am apple polishing,
When my boss pleases his boss, he is cooperating,
When I make a mistake, you're an idiot.
When my boss makes a mistake, he's only human.
When I am out of the office, I am wandering around.
When my boss is out of the office, he's on business.
When I am on a day off sick, I am always sick.
When my boss is a day off sick, he must be very ill.
When I apply for leave, I must be going for an interview
When my boss applies for leave, it's because he's overworked
When I do good, my boss never remembers,When I do wrong, he never forgets
Sitting at my desk.
Time is ticking slowly by.
Can I go home yet?
Bike to Work day: escorting the funeral of Marine Albrak Omar
Loch David Crane
Patriot Guard Riders
September 2009
No more classes now that I've been fired!
Patriotism is my job: I’m retired.
The Patriot Guard rides almost every day
to bring a flapping flag line on display.
We ride to work with combustion and chrome
to bring the bodies of our brave troops home.
In a strange twist for love of our country
This Arab Albrak was a volunteer
who gave America his youthful years
to make Iraqui people finally free.
He gave his life: I give my afternoon
remembering our heroes at high noon.
Packed in ice, he came home to his Mom;
his body was prepared by an Imam.
All day long we toil in a shop
which we clean from the bottom to the top,
Like bees in a colony or ants in a nest
Back and forth , all day long ,trying to do our best
We rise early and work our day away
serving others but never getting any rest
We waste our lives , in unremitting labor
Never knowing or caring what it has all been for
Senseless, useless, a waste of life’s precious drops
Getting into ruts , depressing and demeaning
Till we cant see the bottom or the top
Only then do we begin to realize that we are still alive
That life must have more meaning than nine to five
But give my regards to the mighty paycheck
This is what the world loves and respects
At the end of the day we drag ourselves to our beds
and wait again for morning to rise and do it all over again
Like clockwork we rise to our moment in the sun,
already bored and resigned to labor with no end
Except for the mighty dollar which we cherish and cling to
We must not take a break toiling in the sun all day long
Working as drones and controlled by anxious greedy men
We give them our all for the mighty paycheck
For this is what the world loves and expects
When it comes to doing the right thing by ratting on the enemies and/or whatnot, these
people have no regrets. When it comes to dating and writing poems of their own, there's no
turning back. And when it comes to getting into positive situations in life, there's no
way out. These type of things have been like that since day one, especially way before we
were born. For one, having no regrets mean he or she has done nothing wrong. The second
part is when he or she's planning on doing something out of the ordinary like going
sky-diving, snowboarding, or whatever, there's no turning back for them. And when it comes
to doing the right thing like giving back to the community, trying to prevent disasters
from happening day in and day out, there's no way out of those great situations. Seems as
though God has been watching all of us human beings for some time to come, even after the
Earth was created. The best thing about not making a lot of regrets in life is when he or
she's got a free spirit and a pure heart. Well, I guess good fortune will happen to the
ones who don't have selfish agendas or whatever. And if these people keep up doing the
right thing for their communities and stuff, there's no telling what positive thing might
happen next. And just like I said: "No Regrets, No Turning Back, and No Way Out."
Each day I spend a little time with my friend Sisyphus in the morning,
He tries his best to give me advice or at least to offer up a warning.
He can tell by the way I work that sometimes I spin my wheels,
Trying hard to get somewhere and he knows exactly how it feels.
The harder you push to get something done the bigger the task becomes,
Until it’s nearly impossible to get it right and you feel like you’re all thumbs.
He tells me just to do my best and to keep my nose pressed to the stone,
And try to remember that there’re others in the race and I am not alone.
Then he wishes me well and tells me he has an uphill battle to fight,
And as long as he isn’t flattened by the rock he thinks he’ll be alright.
Sometimes I listen to him and to the things that he has to say,
But other times I stop to think that there must be a better way.
Because if all there is to living is to go to work and each day grow a little older,
Then you’ve missed the point and you’ve already been flattened by the boulder.
So I look for things that bring me joy and add them to my day,
And eventually those little bits of color block out the shades of gray.
I live the day to dream the night
As I dream the night to live the day
I work the day to rest the night
As I rest the night to work the day
I pay the day to gain the night
As I gain the night to pay the day
I give the day to earn the night
As I earn the night to give the day
Life is all about time
As time is all about day and night...
(c) 2011
Work Day Homecoming
Dogs lie sleeping,
Homecoming they wake
Barking, what’s for dinner?
Seemed like eons to Pa since he began another daily grind.
The more he tried to stay ahead, the further he got behind!
The boss harassed him all day long - nothin' at all went right.
"Lord, have mercy!" he prayed. "Relieve me of my miserable plight!"
First, he botched a simple job on his drillin' and planin' machine,
Causin' him chagrin and agitatin' the boss, who made a scene!
This blunder brought work on the line to a three hour cessation,
Causin' the boys in the front office very little jubilation!
Pa ate his balogna sandwich alone avoidin' the hostile bunch,
Thinkin' ill of Ma who forgot to pack a Twinkie for his lunch!
He mused, "Help me through this day without gettin' fired, Lord!
Only twenty years 'til retirement - an axin' I just can't afford!"
He gave his all that afternoon, aware he'd blemished his career,
Heedin' details and avoidin' the boss whenever he came near!
He waited for the shift to end, the siren to sound quittin' time,
And gettin' home to his lovin' clan and much needed peace sublime!
Quittin' time finally came and he joined the fleein' herd.
Met by his adorin' brood, they asked him what that day occured.
He hugged and kissed each one, answerin' with a puckish smile,
"Oh, nothin' much, 'cept the plant was idled for quite a while!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
ive heard a lot of people say
they would like to be in my shoes today
they would like to go to work at the place called jeep
but let me tell you one thing son
it really is not too much fun
because in here you sow more than you reap
you work from dawn to setting sun
the work day here is never done
you work until your back and feet are sore
after a long and hectic day
you cant go out and even play
your body just wont take it anymore
so if you think it is your quirk
to come to jeep and go to work
where you will almost surely get the blues
and you think it will be fun
then let me tell you one thing son
come to jeep and you can fill my shoes
more the norm than the exception
in this wonderful capitalist rape room
where coming into work can mean
leaving early without a job & a
pink slip, with a pat on the back & a
“thanks for being such a good worker”---
armed with all the facetious nonsense
that emanates from the mouths of
higher-ups, whose jobs are just a little
more secure than your own,
making them bent further over the table
with the drill shoved so deep up inside
them that you couldn’t pull it out with
a ****ing forklift,
if you even dared to try.
and on the day you come in &
they’ve taken away some of your coworkers,
leaving you “alive” as far as the workforce
goes (for one more day), you feel an odd
sense of guilt & blame, like it should have,
like it could have, like it will be you---
much like on imagines a survivor of a plane
crash sees the deaths of their co-flyers as
a precursor to their own fessing up to
that certainty of mortality,
you close your mouth with a sudden horror---
because these people were your friends,
as far as the workplace is concerned---
you’ve spent hours, weeks & years with
them & their fate has been decided with a
****ing red pen & a greeting at the door
when they were coming in,
because the higher-ups didn’t even have the
goddamned decency to give them a call
prior to the beginning of the work day---
so now, they hang their heads, some cry,
and in the eyes of all of them is a new
terror…a head full of “what am i gonna do?”
adding them to the legions of
america’s growing unemployed---
oh the wonderful “land of the free,”
where you can smile as long as you are
****ing
economically
viable.
tomorrow, they go online to file for
unemployment, to start the hardest job that
there is---
looking
for a
job.
and you miss them.
and you hope the best for them.
and you know the cards are stacked against them.
and you know neither obama or romney is gonna
****ing help them.
and you go to sleep so you can get up in the morning &
go back to the slaughterhouse,
hoping today isn’t your day (always tense & ready for your
time) &
hoping that wherever they are,
that they are ok.
if the universe were ruled by unpredictable events, there would be no sustainable structure
to it.
you go through live living day after day the same way. wake up, turn off your alarm, get out
of bed, take a shower, and dress.
numerous changes can (and will) inflict chaos upon this routine. as you dress, a button pops
and you have to sew it back on. or go back a step and you're taking a hotter shower than
you normally do. another step back and your back hurts so you plant both feet on the floor,
clasp your hands together and raise them over your head to stretch for a good minute and a
half. its a good thing you went to bed earlier than normal last night so you wouldn't press the
snooze button on your alarm like you did yesterday morning. otherwise you wouldn't have
had that extra minute and a half to stretch because your neck and back hurt from those
pillows you bought after work the previous day and those five extra minutes to sew the
button back on your shirt. and who's to say you won't spill your morning coffee, made with
the new coffee maker wit the automatic timer you bought with those pillows.
and to further demolish the idea that life has any sustainable structure, have you ever
counted the number of breaths you take in a day, and then drew a chart and then for the
rest of that week, count all your breaths in each of the other six days and write those
numbers down on the chart you drew on the first day? no. but if you did, you would know for
a fact that at the end of the day, you wold be left with a completely different number of
breaths because wit each new day comes new situations and events that inflict new feelings
and emotions, such as the fear and anxiety you felt after hitting another car on your way to
work on the third day of this "breath experiment" you've never done which caused your
heart to race and your blood pressure to rise which consequently increased the number of
breaths you took that day and consequently made you over an hour late for work but that's
another story.
not only is the world ruled by randomness and unpredictable events but that is the only
structure that is guaranteed to be sustained in the universe.