Best Workplaces Poems


Human Figures Made of Clay

Dismal tale of men and women in the dirty rail compartment
No conception of the charm being knitted by the movement
Of the necklace of gentle light in the pants shirts and blouses
All is too occupied in their struggle to notice the kind crescent 
As they are returning home from their respective workplaces

Piteous story of apathy and woe all of them are absorbed in
An old lady chewing parched rice taking it from a rusted tin
In a dark corner is seated a youth with shirt all bloodstained
Suffering from tuberculosis and looking very fragile and thin
A worthless life of empty existence still wretchedly retained

Though no threshold he will come across leading him to a
Plate of  rice and curry as at least one square meal a day
A hawker of playthings approaches them in a smiling face
A second vendor selling some human figures made of clay
A gloomy motion picture of life running in an unfair race


10/07/2017
Rhyme Time with 5 Poetry Contest sponsored by Laura Loo
Using the five words viz Piteous Bloodstained Threshold
Conception and Dismal

Premium Member Diwali

Decorating homes and workplaces
Illuminating with diyas and rangoli for five days
Worship ceremonies of Lakshmi, goddess of properity
As mentioned in early Sanskrit texts
Light over darkness
Indian subcontinent origins

written November 4, 2021

Premium Member Dear Martin


Come back Martin, come back.
If there is any way please come back, quickly.
We need your words of Utopia,
your powerful metaphors of brotherhood.

Freedom is not the object.
Everyone is free, too free,
free to do as they please
even if it means, take a life.

People die every day in 
the streets of the city
the schoolyards
the workplaces
the highways
gunned down, just like you.

Madmen rule the world 
playing with it like marbles and badly need wisdom.

Come back Martin, come back
and bring Mahatma too.

10/17/18


Premium Member I'Ve Heard of a Place

I've heard of a place where people smile
  where neighbors all go the extra mile
I've heard of a place where folks of all races
  get along just fine in their workplaces

I've heard of a place where highly paid doctors admit
  there are diseases about which they don't know a whit
I've heard of a place where instead of bald lies
  politicians seek only to compromise

I've heard of a place where you don't lock your doors
  for if you did, the sheriff would ask you, 'What for?'
I've heard of a place where's there's little divorce
  where loving couples would never use force

And maybe if you've heard of this place too
  You and I can give the world a preview  




                     October 18, 2020
     Completely Your Choice (#29) Poetry Contest
                   Sponsor: Brian Strand

Premium Member Reliving Upside Down

Reliving Upside Down
                     by Odin Roark

The Jungle Gym geodesic glistened,
Afternoon showers dripped,
Languorous droplets fell, 
Saturating sand below,
Just like then.

Bench of parents
Reflected memories old,
Stroller wheels struggling,
Obstinate sand as obstacle,
Giggles and screeches
From canopy covered pram,
Bumpy ride for my brother,
His laughter, sheer joy.

Fathers,
Mothers,
Sitters and nannies,
Attentive to children’s every move.

So many eyes saw me
Atop the dome’s iron lattice,
Hanging by my legs,
Seeing the world upside down,
Shouting, “Look at me, Grandpa!”

He didn’t notice this day,
His sudden slumped body,
Dropped the half eaten sandwich
To the ground.

Part of me wanted not to upright my view,
That safety of abstract vision so foreign then,
So understandable now,
So strangely comforting then,
So painful now.

I now straddle atop the bars,
Thinking thirty-three years haven’t made it easier,
Save the bench now replaced
The sand succeeded by concrete,
The tenders and watchers now often of different purpose,
Staring at me not knowing
I’m anything but a nut case.

Some of us just discover
Life’s remembrances
Sometimes prophesy what is to come.

Some, like me, will realize
Their whole adult life is programmed upside down,
Its sophisticated induction lures escapees
Into free-for all playground-workplaces
Where capture so often comes by way of 
Pills,
Powder,
Liquid
Needles.

I smile.
Swing down to the ground,
Throw an embrace to Grandpa’s bench,
Look up and shout…
“Reliving upside down moments of love is okay.
Really…
It’s okay.”
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

Whatsapp

WhatsApp!!!

First thing in the morning,
I grab my phone,
Switched to the cheap communication,
Convenient communication,
WhatsApp,
Even if we are in the same room and same bed,
I whatsApp her to say morning my love,
I whatsApp her to ask for hot water,
For a tea and everything I will need to start my day,
From another room I kiss her by whatsApp,
To wake my children that it is time to wakeup,
I whatsApp,
I am at work and she is at the mall shopping,
She whatsApp to me pics of her favorites,
I give recommendations by whatsApp,
Our daily communication led by whatsApp,
My friend whatsApp me his favourite music,
My boss give me daily instruction by whatsApp,
Dating start on other sites and ends on whatsApp,
Nomore speaking, we text, upload and whatsApp,
WhatApp has private,
WhatsApp in the taxis,
At workplaces,
At the shopping malls,
WhatsApp at hospitals,
WhatApp everywhere,
Picture and audio convenient share,
My mood is in my whatsApp status,
You can define me on my whatsApp profile picture,
Next will be whatsApp to lock and unlock the doors,
WhatsApp to unlock passwords in computers,
And whatsApp to enter pin on ATMS,
Whatsapp!!!


Premium Member We Are Doomed People

We are doomed people. Nurses’ aides, housekeepers, LPN and Ward Clerks
Maintenance and kitchen cooks; slave of the modern workplaces
We are the Victims of Hurricane Sandy
Taking life for granted,
 Everything was nice and dandy
  until Sandy furious attack 
 In an instant life live: reverse like a deadly curse
Forcing the Oil prices to rise higher after volatile week
We cried, we pray, we curse under the same breath
 Frequently asked question “Why us father why we

Mayday

First day of May
When people gather in one circle
Workplaces become so quiet
But streets and junctions so noisy

Public facilities at stake
Also wives and kids

The aspirations come on behalf of God and human right
Labor right
Conveying to the authority and the power

The employer and rich men, being lose
As if lose

First day of May
The day people strive for being more human
Being richer, more powerful and recognized
© Nur Holis  Create an image from this poem.

2015 Sa and the World Drowning Into

2015 SA and the world drowning into

As Christmas and New year approached,
Our nerves got shaken,
And as we received our bonuses,
And others withdrawn their long saved money,
Everybody headed home with pride,
To show people that they are so paid,
To show that they have saved much,
And the banks with their temporary loans,
Their long term loans in advert,
The loan shucks and their promotions,
Shops with their account and tactics of paying after,
We borrowed and bought on credit,
We added debts on debts,
So foolish we used our money,
Some pleased the friends with bonuses and salaries on booze,
Forgetting that money does not grow on trees,
We work hard to get this called money,
So foolish our money spent and finished,
Endless trips, booze, useless purchases,
Uncalculated expenditures, 
Until pockets get dry.

2015, we are bankrupt,
No-more peace at homes,
We have to go back to our workplaces,
The banks are going to need their first installment,
Shops need repayments,
Loan shucks started to send repayments reminders,
Some cards and ID books are locked in loan-shucks, 
And what about our previous repayments on the list?
Childrens want to go back to school on new uniform,
We need to have food to survive,
We need patrol for our first month to work,
This is too much to handle on human being,
We went back to the loan shucks,
To the banks for loans,
To shops and other places for instant loans,
To survive the first month our year,
2015, we got into the dam of debts,
Welcome to the world of debts,
As we start the year with debt,
The year-end will still be debt,
In South Africa and the World,
Swimming in debt,
Drowning-drowning into debt.

Children the Hope

Share with friends
Share with loved ones 
And share with all
The words of this our song:
        “Children the hope,
          Children the strength
          Children the future
          And children the life
          To them is the nation
           More so, the Kingdom of God!”

May this our song spread
Into the towns and villages
Let it be sung
In the churches and beer halls
In the homes and workplaces
That the children may live their full lives
And give us their worth in the course.

And if our vision day dawns
To all our invaluable children
We shall part our lips in song:
          “Children the hope
            Children the strength
            Children the future
            And children the life
            To them is the nation,
            More so, the Kingdom of God!”

Ode To a Singer Songwriter

Friday came and the workplaces
Surrendered their weary to the weekend
Tiredness dissipating as the precious days
Are contemplated with anticipation.

Another crowd of friendly murmur 
Gathers in the little upstairs room
Gloomy by day, evening transformed 
to a theatre within the music bar.

She arrives having travelled
With her instruments seen and unseen
Steps up on the stage again
Boots discarded, tippy toed pleasure.

The first gentle notes picked out 
Hush the gathering to respectful silence
As they cleanse the week from their souls
Embracing the soothing delicacy. 

Then the voice arrives
Chocolate velvet-smooth whiskey
Sweet strong intoxicating earfuls
Elevate spirits in ecstasy.

Two hours disappear in a thrice
A happy melancholy descends
Pleasurable attendance struggles
Against the tinge of sadness, it's over.

The artist remains to greet the grateful
Friendly chatter, CD signing
Soon we shuffle back to life's reality
Hoping she knows the joy she brings.

Greed Referendum Needed

Yes we the public
should have a
referendum to put
polititians back ON
normal wages 

(LYING PUT OVER
TYPES, PUT EM IN THE
SAME BOX AS CAR
SALESMEN AND REAL
ESTATE LIARS} 

and also GUT the
greedy CEOS on more
then a million a
year ...

its what is driving
up the electricity
in Queensland
currently,
greed...in a word. 

DEMAND EQUALITY for
and WITH THE
CONTRACTED
GOVERNMENT CLEANERS
WHO HAD A $200 PAY
CUT A WEEK FORCED ON
EM??? DO IT TO THE
POLLIES!@!!

Class distinction
USED ...level the
playing field...

The purpose of the
forced on contracts
in our workplaces
...Labor cheap is is
getting in short
supply in asia, so
remove education for
the poor in
Australia  ...dumb
em down 
and uses contracts
to get cheap
employees????????
AINT GREED A *****

Bitterness Civic Fruits

With her citizenry in speculation?
What next after the abomination?
Why shoot the stood confrontation?
Just for dictatorial execution

The far for we move away from,
Independence in full of storm,
Creative tumbocrats innovate scam,
All around in a boiling water frame

All workplaces baptized in troubles,
Shelters occupied just troubled couples,
To put on the table but just the battles,
As the fortune subscribers burn candles

As you chew swallowing but few
As you drink the starving-learned stew
We grow narrow slender size new
Better the persons who lifted you

Premium Member War of the Words

Today there's a War of the Words going on
  Today there's a War of the Words.

It's taking place all over this beautiful land of ours
 Polluting our precious air and clear-blue streams
  Muddying our forests, our meadows, our parks, 
   Trashing our buildings, our subways, our cityscapes.

Today there's a War of the Words going on
 In our workplaces -- our offices, factories, and construction sites
  In our schools -- our classrooms, corridors, and teachers lounges
   In our palaces of entertainment -- our theaters, concert halls, and sports stadiums.

Today there's a War of the Words just about everywhere you turn;
  It's almost impossible to avoid being a minor casualty if you have two ears.

Because today there's a War of the Words going on around us:
 Foul-smelling and tasting, putrid, gross, abominable, wretched,
  Horribly inexpressive, unacceptable, not-so-long-ago prohibited
   Unthinkable even, insensitive, insensible, but uncensored
                           Curse Words.

There's a War going on, my friends: A War for the Soul of this Nation:
 Let us return to civility, to civil discourse, to reasoned discussion
  To toleration of others and others' opinions or idiosyncrasies
   To a time when rage was not found on the road or the radio and
    Rants were not heard from nearly everyone on everything everywhere.

                       America:  Let us win
                 This ongoing War of the Words
                       Let us self-censor our
                             Curse Words


 Entry in "Societal Discontent" contest, sponsored by Brendan J. Simons
                      Deadline: April 23, 2018

Ungrateful

In fields beneath a burning sun,
behind horses smelling foul,
we hacked the ground so seeds could grow,
walked hard miles behind the plow,
trying to feed all our families
out of the hardpacks, sand, and loam,
wiping off sweat, looking forward
to being able to go home.

Deep within tunnels beneath earth,
coal black dust destroyed our lungs,
we blasted out a country’s fuel,
ever fearful that the next one
could bring roofs down and trap us here,
in graves unmarked and unknown;
hauling out ore ’till closing time,
when we finally could go home.

Out in the sun on the highway,
each passing car a mortal threat,
building a road so normal folks
can to their workplaces get.
Feeling nerves every single time
we hear those big truck brakes moan,
unable to draw easy breaths
until we’re let loose to go home.

Surrounded by a factory
where red-hot steel is freely poured,
accidents are not unheard of,
we all know there will be more.
You can’t ever be truly safe
working metal so hot it flows,
we build the country at great risk,
then we can thankfully go home.

Perched high above a gotham town,
manipulating big I-beams,
raising up a great structure that
one day with glass panes will gleam,
hoping that harnesses will work
so we don’t plunge screaming below,
watching each step so cautiously
to be sure that we can go home.

Trudging hard in desert mountains,
hunting down the terrorist scum,
breaking evil that knows no law
but that enforced by our big guns,
killing them before they can go
rig out houses and stores to blow,
counting the days left in our tour,
until we can leave and go home.

Walking into those homes, at last,
Ii has been one nerve-wracking day,
but there’s no peace, for we must hear
our wives and our girlfriends say:

Ugh, your masculinity is so toxic! What is it even good for? You need to learn more from feminism or you’ll just be a violent brute and a threat to society!

….?
….!
Are you effing kidding me?

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