Always following company policy
you set a good example and it showed
qualified at your level of incompetence
while rather than carry the can
you continued to kick it down the road
and I'll be the first to say I'm last in line
on the lower echelon boot-licking list
but please trust and do keep in mind
by me the cheeks of your behind
are not about to be bussed or kissed
I know at work I am junior-most man
on the promotion ladder totem pole
but on the whole you've surrounded yourself
with employees who are quite inferior
and tho' overall you may be the boss
no you are not my superior
Bussed in is what they call it way back when
Busted mouth, broken chin
Where we the reason of everybody’s sin
Can you please just let me in,
Don’t wanna get beaten again .
Doors breaking, my knees a shaken
Don’t know how much more I’ll be taken ,
So I was sent to change the world
Im not a hero , I’m just an little girl
I was told I made them url
Round and Round but not a twirl
Fighting for this equality, what in the world.
Orban man, has a plan.' To enligten brussels with a taste
Of a jam..' Made to their recipe..' Lets see if they'll stand?
Hungary didn't like its taste'. Or so says Orban.' So he's
Got up some transport.. that he'll fill to the brim' with the
Results of their recipe.' That 'He says' tastes like sin' well
Good old brussels.! Whad'ya say.? I see your mouths are
Quite open.! Did I hear that?? Again.? Was it a yea.? For the
World wants to see' you digest these conserves To be bussed in just for you, now will you keep to your words.?
Bussing immigrants to high-end neighborhoods makes immigration status worse. After an Ecuadorian women gave Heimlich to a man choking on a Scampi, she was once again bussed elsewhere without a single thank you. People in these areas reported people being saved by these immigrants. FYI: everyone in America are immigrants
The eagles have long left,
scattered over miles; empty plastic bottle,
condoms and diapers.
Here under a burning sun
human traffickers do not imply a rush-hour.
Death is imported, life degraded.
They come from all over the world,
mostly men of military age,
and no one asks why?
Whole families come,
they are bussed away at night,
to be forgotten amidst more teeming masses.
An old man
rides his bike, grins, waving a hand
at a gaggle of press and photographers.
There are still no eagles.
“Blindness separates people from things;
deafness separates people from people.”
– Helen Keller
She sat amongst the gathering crowd.
It was her birthday, you see.
The men were bespoke so proud
and the ladies were dressed to a T.
The table was layered in muted hues
and laid with sundry hors d'oeuvres
on a linen cloth of pinks and blues.
She was a bundle of nerves.
They bussed her cheek and spoke
a greeting she didn’t understand.
She smiled and let her words choke
since hearing was not in her command.
They gave her a kiss and a hug
and whispered secrets in her ear.
She’d reply with a smile and a shrug,
masking that she couldn’t hear.
She lost her hearing months ago
and only a few close friends knew.
She hid it the best she could
for her affliction was too new.
She felt isolated, useless, and weak,
not able to hear or converse.
Looks of irritation or pity were bleak
and only made her feel worse.
(To be sang to the tune of ‘Circle Of Life’ from ‘The Lion King’)
At the age of twelve in the school,
A merger of two high schools.
Teachers bussed between two buildings,
Students learning on two sites.
After eight weeks, portacabins added,
Everyone now on one site.
Making new friends.
Moved to the new building,
At the age of fifteen – a big change.
It’s the end of an era,
And the start of a new.
Learning our way,
Around the new school
‘Til we find our class,
In the new building.
It’s the end,
It’s the end of an era.
It’s the end of an era,
And the start of a new.
Learning our way,
Around the new school
‘Til we find our class,
In the new building.
It’s the end,
It’s the end of an era.
‘Til we find our class,
In the new building.
It’s the end,
It’s the end of an era.
End of an era!!
04/10/21
Early rising, toddlers sleeping,
got to get them out of bed.
Shake them gently,tired eyes peeping,
dress them quickly, get them fed.
Bags are packed, time is tight,
got to make the airport run.
Catching an early morning flight
for two weeks holiday in the sun.
Check for passports, check for tickets,
check the door locks, check for cash.
Make sure there's no plugs left in sockets,
then off we go for the airport dash.
Eating miles of motorway Tarmac,
slick with morning drizzle, wet.
Children restless, fighting in back,
chant in unison, "Are we there yet?"
Park the car and grab the cases,
wait in the drizzle for the bus.
Stand in line with miserable faces,
next year it's Meet & Greet for us!
At the airport find the check-in,
passports all in order, great!
At security wind my neck in,
temper fraying with the wait.
Then we're bussed out to the runway,
budget airlines make me seethe.
Up the steps and down the gangway,
find my seat, sit down, then - breathe!
Angel which was saying my boundary's about
Who did pour out this coffee?
In front of,it is a poem"Colonialism",whatever
Discriminatory Pharaoh,women's nails
Softy lips of music,I can feel that
Drop into the wave which asked the rock
All have been only moustache
I recites next dead body's mound
The eyes of a woman which I bussed ,
love's voice,suddendly entered wrong way
This light is document forever exited
Thwelt Di Nwe
An early Christmas message for you all...
******
Fir trees droop and brightly glisten,
street lamps cast their glow, and listen!
sounds of singing drifting lightly
o'er the air, as children sprightly
fashion snowmen, fat and jolly,
wrapped in scarves and sprigs of holly;
horse-drawn coaches softly clip-clop
down the road and past the grog shop,
revelers in gay abandon,
merry-making to distraction.
Wind-bussed faces pressed to windows,
Christmas gifts in festive red bows
all regale this night of wonder,
misery is cast asunder!
You Do Not Like
When you find a feeling that is uncanny
Do you think manic depressive sanity
May seem so tried and also very tried
While your mouth will be open wide.
So you see I am somewhat surmising
If you should see something surprising
Load mind with ammunition from education
Don't just sit there with much sedation.
Must move on in a matter of speaking
Even if body is reeking and speech is squeaking
Prepare plan and pattern and on level let it be
Sufficient so you can satisfy all curiosity.
Education encourages minds to expand
And profits depend on supply and demand
Either may have been a boom or a bust
Ended up deep in debt and died in disgust.
Maybe you might make it an absolute must
Before students to school they all be bussed
Instead of being greeted with a big groan
Leave at home and they can learn while alone.
So what do you think?
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
An early Christmas message for you all...
******
Fir trees droop and brightly glisten,
street lamps cast their glow, and listen!
sounds of singing drifting lightly
o'er the air, as children sprightly
fashion snowmen, fat and jolly,
wrapped in scarves and sprigs of holly;
horse-drawn coaches softly clip-clop
down the road and past the grog shop,
revellers in gay abandon,
merry-making to distraction.
Wind-bussed faces pressed to windows,
Christmas gifts in festive red bows
all regale this night of wonder,
misery is cast asunder!
On the days you're not here
They serve doughnuts,
Laughter punctuates conversations,
People stock and empty shelves,
And fish are caught.
Friends greet and lovers kiss,
Homes are built, tables are bussed,
Children learn geography
And deliveries are made
On the days you're not here.
On the days you're not here
Lawns get mowed,
Cancers will be treated,
Cars are repaired, jets fly
And prayers are said.
Tears stain cheeks and hopes are born,
Dogs will bark, tennis is played,
Mothers hold infants,
And poetry is written, and read
On the days you're not here.
Fir trees droop and brightly glisten,
street lamps cast their glow, and listen!
sounds of singing drifting lightly
o'er the air, as children sprightly
fashion snowmen, fat and jolly,
wrapped in scarves and sprigs of holly;
horse-drawn coaches softly clip-clop
down the road and past the grog shop,
revellers in gay abandon,
merry-making to distraction!
Wind-bussed faces pressed to windows,
Christmas gifts in festive red bows,
all regale this night of wonder,
misery is cast asunder!
Wassail
Fir trees droop and brightly glisten,
street lamps cast their glow, and listen!
sounds of singing drifting lightly
o'er the air, as children sprightly
fashion snowmen, fat and jolly,
wrapped in scarves and wreaths of holly;
horse-drawn coaches softly clip-clop
down the road and past the grog shop,
revellers in gay abandon,
merry-making to distraction!
Wind-bussed faces pressed to windows,
Christmas gifts in festive red bows,
All regale this night of wonder,
misery is cast asunder!
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