Best Worked Poems
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?
Categories:
worked, slavery, society, truth, work,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Charlie. I worked with Charlie for 14 years. He was a little older than me, did the same job. Sure had the "highs and lows" - he must have been manic-depressive or bipolar or something. He'd blow up, but remained a good friend. Charlie was big, had to be 350 lbs. or 160 kg. A very good drummer, he could work magic with just his fingers and thumbs on a table. He said nobody in his family ever lived past age 55. Colon cancer. At first, there was some steely resolve to fight, but it quickly leached most of it out it of him. He was correct about age 55.
Bob was a mechanic, and didn't work "on the road." At that time, it was somewhat like being in the military for most of us - we had our rank, our chain-of-command, and our missions (not to mention our egos). Bob was at peace, competent, relaxed, quiet. He was a little hard to understand - he spoke softly, perhaps slightly muffled, as if with a small speech impediment, but always with good humor and a twinkle in his eye. I'd see him a few times a year, when we were back from a tour of work. Always wore a red bandanna around his head.
He was as purely good-natured as anybody I've ever met. This was in the days before cell phones, and in the repair shop there was a pay phone that was enclosed with sound-dampening material, so you could hear over the din. One time I lost my wallet - that cold, nauseating feeling - I'd left it in the little sound-booth. After searching the grounds for two fruitless hours, I came upon Bob, approaching me with the most honest smile. "Are you missing something?" he said, holding out the wallet. No games, no sarcastic comments, he was just glad to help.
And then one time he wasn't there. "Bob died - he had leukemia." I hadn't known; I don't think he told anybody, maybe a boss right at the end. Oh Bob.
Categories:
worked, death, life, sick, work,
Form:
Prose
Hey baby there's a roast in the oven
And all the dishes are done
I washed your socks and underwear
Now let's have some fun
*not for contest
Categories:
worked, appreciation, funny love,
Form:
Light Verse
Nothing In My Life Has Worked! I Need Jesus Now!
Many times, I feel trouble and trials at every side.
I can feel the pressure of “an evil tide.”
I’ve often lost battles and have been defeated.
I feel so empty! Like my life hasn’t been completed.
There’s been many things in life, that I’ve tried.
But nothing has really worked, or satisfied!
My family doesn’t know the person I’ve come to be.
I feel like a broken ship, that’s lost out at sea!
I can’t keep wearing this “masquerade” much longer.
As I continue to just stumble along and wander.
I remember hearing about Jesus as a young boy.
I heard that he can bring love and unspeakable joy!
Jesus, I beg for your mercy and grace to cleanse me.
For all of my faults and failures, please forgive me!
I ask that you’d reach down and restore within me.
Everything that the emptiness has taken from me!
I don’t know the “right” words,
but I really need you!
I come know, and kneel on my knees before you!
I thank you my Lord, for listening to my prayers.
I believe that you are someone who truly cares!
I now feel Jesus’ sweet love touching my soul!
In his name, I’ve been made
complete and WHOLE!
By Jim Pemberton 05/26/15
Categories:
worked, christian, depression, encouraging, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
I helped him out and this is what I came up with so its a collaboration between
Cindy & Allan
Two Roads
Comprehend
right now
the decision so hard
Meeting crossroads
containing no mergence
One travels steered roads
Another down the daunting path
This journeyed
numerous times before
Acknowledged by humanity
understanding
For what it undoubtedly is
It will be
easy to begin with
Only in the end
the result dire
The path's boundary met
moving forth inevitable
The other
Less popular
Fewer travelled
Still uneven
assumed scary to trek upon
This jaunt comprises
tenacious confusion
Unsure of it's being
or where the venturing heads
Frightening
The unknown
But vizualize
its feasible
and leads
to immortal happiness
At present I feel
you perceive
'I can not manage this any longer'
My friend
we have met at the same place
Enshrine in your heart
one demands your presence
the other purely enlightened
Ask
I voyaged the road taken
to find it ends like all before
Returning to crossroads
lost again
may I?
adventure the road less travelled
I think you must
I do advice
Waiting there for you
ready and patient
Hoping then praying
one day
that lost soul of yours
To walk down
the unknown path
and brave essence
furthermore
Categories:
worked, life, love, boy,
Form:
I saw this movie about a woman who was beautiful
and when she entered the casino floor her blonde hair said,
”Hi! “… and the high rollers, the janitor and the fat greeter,
felt more relaxed, more secure, she could do that…with that
special thing she had,
and she always came in at the same time, when the floor was getting busy
and the roulette wheels were white hot with hope and charisma,
and they loved her, saying she brought good luck and fortune,
and the shmucks, with silver dollar ties and western hats,
bet their boots away for a smile and look at her bouncing rack…
see…she wasn’t plain, no, no, not at all… she’d had three kids and was
still every fat girl’s nightmare…a gazelle, with long slender legs and
an hour-glass waist…her job was to work the room and push on
losers to lose and winners to book a room…and they knew it…and
they were suckered by her Learjet eyes and they didn’t care,
and she smelt good, very good, of oranges, pine and sweet hibiscus
which drifted across the room … but you couldn’t touch her .. .no you
wouldn’t want to do that…you could look until your eyes became
poker chips, and everybody knew and they made their bets and they
looked and drooled and betted and drank and smoked and won and lost,
but they never touched…no, no…they never did that.
Categories:
worked, desire, lust, money, ,
Form:
Free verse
Rejoice the end of deathly days
when winter's witch worked wicked ways.
Free from dark times we sing our praise.
Now sap flows after its long fast.
Snowdrops flare white in bright contrast.
Buds nourished, now they swell and burst.
From blackest loam to spectrum glow.
Bold blue, rich purple, bright yellow
and subtle shades of pastel show.
Aloft, we hear the 'caw-caw' cry
as fledglings flap and flare and try.
Some instinct keeps them in the sky.
Pond nymphs nourished and near full size,
awaiting warmth from summer skies.
Then shed their shell, make damselflies.
Rejoice the start of golden days.
Nature completes her complex ways.
For her magic we sing our praise.
Categories:
worked, sky, spring, sun,
Form:
Rhyme
A Rushing Creek.A beavers' broken dam.Washed Out Gully.
Categories:
worked, animals
Form:
Haiku
It's time 4 me 2 ketchup
I've mustard up some energy
I just relish the thought of you
I'm loaded with bread
All I need is a wiener
Categories:
worked, funny,
Form:
Free verse
Mind tormented with stresses of the day.
Misled truths and thoughts in disarray.
A purveyor of lies, they are to me.
Unfairly treated, their so-called bribery.
Against a wall, repeatedly my head pounds.
Nothing is played out right, revenge on rebound.
Just let me go to collect my dignity.
Your fibs just keep adding up the ante.
I am spent and somber, from your wrong dealings.
Please just let me go from your mental beatings.
Categories:
worked, angstme,
Form:
Rhyme
to you who seems to think time is infinite
to you who seems so sure
the clock will stand hushed and still
until you’re ready to press that button
i’m not sure what to say
i don’t share your delusion
yet strangely I must admit i relish
in the illusion that time might somehow hover
suspended and surreal if we so choose
to look the other way
AP: Honorable Mention 2023
Categories:
worked, life, longing, time,
Form:
Free verse
sizzling, scintillating-
tittillation from on stage
oh, the way she works that pole
would cause erections in the morgue.
legs and arms and breasts (oh damn!)
promise rare delicious delight.
and that ass would stop traffic
in the middle of a Nascar race.
but take a close look
at those eyes...
colder than a pimp's heart;
harder than gunmetal
they tell you that something died inside.
the lines is her face
are not traces of aging
but, of the hardening that comes
from all that she's endured:
the joy and hope that eloped
when she first understood
what it means to be a commodity
she'd likely slit your throat
for your wallet and watch,
or just to get revenge
on herself, for ever being born
but only if she thought
that she wouldn't get caught. and-
man! look at the way she works that pole!
Categories:
worked, social
Form:
Verse
I will never work the graveyard shift
Because elementary students are not awake all night.
My charges whom I persuade and uplift.
They bring me all kinds of happiness and light.
My husband worked the graveyard shift
For about a year, once upon a time, many years ago.
We had two small babies, so the real challenge was mine.
Trying to keep them quiet so he could sleep, filled me full of woe.
He would wake up and be nice about it, but it was not ideal.
Working the graveyard shift means your day sleep must be real.
I am so glad those days are over, they were stressful to me.
And to my husband also, as you can plainly see.
Categories:
worked, work,
Form:
Rhyme
Temptress.
How she pointed her demeaning put-down
Of a finger
How she made thy feel sunken
And insignificant
When she took all power and emotion
To leave thy empty and floating
In the wasteland
Could she ever change from the succubus
We know her to be.
Her all mightiness
She shone down on you
Not, how you wanted
But with a merciless fury.
Where does it come from?
That one can rise above another,
So easily.
Becoming dictatorial, omnipotent
And threatening.
Who is she?
Other then your worst enemy
How to be free
Of the dark cloud
And the women
Who is lost
In the domination.
Categories:
worked, confusion, imagination, wife,
Form:
Free verse
The Old Ways Worked
Oh 50 years passed by with the flick of an eye
and our people got so soft don't you see
Back in the fifties people worked oh so hard
just to bring home the bacon for ye
Well the machines oh they came and the work it all went
till there was nothing to do don't you see
it was better back then when the kids had respect
for their elders who sired them with glee
Oh the people grow fat for there's nothing to do
no crowbar or shovel for ye
No sweat of the brow of a days work well done
and a cold beer at sunset for me….
Minority groups have stuffed up the world
full of great ideas so they think
So now the kids are out of control
anarchy comes to the bar for a drink…
Oh I got the cane at school yes too right..
teachers got some respect just from me..
I didn't steal cars & didn't do time
and I’m drugs and alcohol free?
……..Don Johnson
Categories:
worked, angstwork, people, people, work,
Form:
Ballad