flamingoes on one foot balance
talent like monkeys on bongos
playin' clarinets are baboons
raccoons a-hootin’ and a-swayin'
lions on slide-trombones
headphones catch them cryin’
giraffes a-bangin' chimes
Times of L.A. laid off its staff
she spent her day traveling from nap to nap
the dogs and cats laid around, lethargic
they were all becoming listless, non-moving slugs
once upon a time she had been energetic
she had a great job, and a lovely life
but then she was laid off work
Her husband left her, and her sister was in a car wreck
She tried happy pills, but they did not work
For the last two weeks she has been an avid napper
Her house is so dirty, it would have to be shoveled out
She has no desire to do that or anything else
Her energy level is at an all-time low
The battery in her phone has run down to empty
she was not returning calls anyway
when she is this low she wants to be alone
A world I thought being enterprising
Never once realizing
Once had a job
Laid off being nobody fault
Landlord evicted a tenant out
Living on a city street
The pavement no one wants to be
Stuck in defeat
Must step on my two feet
All alone
No family
No shelter
Courage to muster
Settling in
Totally broke
Homelessness is no joke
No longer having an official address
In my own stress
Never knew homelessness before
Used to see people and just ignore
In the circumstance for sure
A lesson to learn
For grace it is now me
Now I know how homelessness feels
Feeling it and it is for real
Society is not your friend
Cover up being pretend
Cold and frustrated
The happening for a reason
Be careful in what you think
Open door wonder
Devasted
Homelessness could be you.
Grey skies in March
as I walk through
the littered yard.
The grass is brown.
No one sees me
except the man
across the alley
loading scrap
into his pick-up.
We talk weather—
snow two days ago
today mist and rain
while we bear
the weight of our lives.
He says he’s laid off
but hopes to return soon.
I talk about lost love
and an empty heart.
We agree we want
to reclaim our lives—
the calendar says spring.
A heavy piece of metal
thrown thuds unto his truck
and he says
Another day another dollar.
I say
All the world’s a stage
before I hop into my car
but no one else is around.
On a quiet morning
bare trees near the ravine
at the end of the alley
raise their weary arms.
I allow a moment to watch.
He's a blue-collar artist supreme.
With a medium of drywall and wet concrete.
He was laid off when Build Back Better lost its gloss.
He occasionally does side jobs... tax-free.
The beard is unkempt; he flashes a tattooed head.
He's donning a third-trimester belly.
That he calls Johnny Walker Red.
It's going to be some time until his next masterpiece.
Today’s workplaces incommodious
Laid off, the exuberant and joyous
Atmosphere’s sterile
Good times imperiled
Efficiency’s drumbeat will destroy us
Man-employment
On the way to the bank this morning
four workers were shuffling pebbles into big buckets
carrying the load down some steps
coming up with empty buckets, filling them up again.
They had sweat on their brows; one hoped they made
enough money for the daily bread.
I may have worked long hours in my life, but
not like this, lifting and carrying heavy objects, and I take it they were low paid
It seems to me people who perform physical
work is low paid and insecure work
the first to be laid off and end up sleeping in the street,
They are the people we despise
But without them, the world would come to a standstill
yet we pay them a few miserable coins left in our pockets when we change our trousers.
Grumpy, griping all the time,
Out of work without a dime.
Seen around the town a lot.
They call him Sir Frowns A Lot.
Used to work for the city,
Paid off, laid off, what a pity.
Caused his wife to have a stroke,
Lost his house when he went broke.
Stands in line for unemployment,
Living life without enjoyment.
Sleeping in a cardboard box,
Worn out shoes and dirty sox.
Food banks help to feed his hunger,
Dreams of days when he was younger.
But now he never ever smiles,
Just walks the streets for miles and miles.
Cursing life and shouting loud,
Mumbles, rumbles at the crowd.
They won't look him in the eye,
They just laugh and pass him by.
Until the day he found a gun,
He had enough and just for fun;
Devised a plan to help the needy,
By taking all from those so greedy.
Now robs the rich to feed the poor,
He'll soon be knocking at their door.
Just like the Knights of Camelot,
No longer called Sir Frowns A Lot.
a broken phone in the muddy dirt
a neglected charger hanging on a badly worn clothesline
turned down for another loan
everything has been cut off or repossessed
now all my stuff is baking in the sun in a multilayered line on a very short curb
i am sitting in a raggedy chair wondering where to go with some type of next move
i am still also trying to find a new job after being laid off from the one i have been at for 21 years with no type of announcement or warning
i guess i should have cared more about caring
i guess i should have paid attention more to paying attention
i guess i was stuck in an imaginary waterfront version of vainglory
now here i am......humbled with nowhere to go and not a soul to call
with tears in my eyes and an ego painstakingly crushed, i blame myself
A shepherd girl named Bo Peep lost her sheep and her Jeep
And didn't know where to find them.
She fell asleep stoned,
When she woke they were gone,
Leaving hoof prints and tire tracks behind them.
She offered as ransom a handsome reward
And assured there'd be no repercussions.
Then the cops said, "Go home
And wait by the phone
For the culprit to call with instructions."
They nabbed an indigent herder who confessed to the murder
Of all of her sheep and to stealing her Jeep.
But still Little Bo Peep lost her job herding sheep,
And then, to her added dismayment,
She lost her practically new Jeep Grand Cherokee, too,
When she couldn't keep up with the payments.
Let this be a lesson, boys and girls, when you're grown
And are working and making it all on your own.
Though it is an annoyment, you only get unemployment,
If you're laid off, not fired,
From the place you were hired.
hollering out to hollow nothing
playing with dead leaves and wanting to leave
smelling dull normalcy in the air and wishing for comparing contrasts
the sudden rainfall is the most fun happening of the day
throwing rocks in the ole lake and wishing for cherry lemonade
wanting to fish but fully tired of the growing boredom of that
my only two friends are on their summer vacations
mom and dad are both laid off
the struggle is real
we leave for gram's and gramp's house tomorrow morning
i pray quietly as the water flows gently
the butterflies do not let up
my stomach tells me so
i head back home to have a board meeting about solid bricks
when the meeting starts, i turn o the button of my imagination
where i land is on the greenest grass that makes me smile again
a loud batch of flatulence brings me back to reality
suddenly, my appetite reintroduces himself
the smell of roast beef and gravy, greens, mashed potatoes, honey butter biscuits, and apple cinnamon pie wakes up my nostrils
the good ole days are making a very limited, time strained visit
i better get myself together and ready for tomorrow i will need this fuel along with breakfast
His stress is too much to take,
drinking to self-medicate.
Laid off from the job he loves
Covid shutdown brings heartache
Date written: 02/03/2021
Died so young at the age of only fifty nine
His literary works will be his eternal shrine
Suspense and mystery on every written page
African-Americans took the centre stage
Thirty novels the talented Eric Dickey wrote
When it comes to writing he gets my vote
Milk in my coffee and Cheaters to name but two
Check out his work that's what I ask of you
A storyteller extraordinaire is high praise indeed
His books my friend are well worth a read
Being laid off from work a blessing in disguise
RIP Eric Dickey one of literatures good guys
The funeral procession
Moved in silence
Through the empty lane;
Otherwise,
A busier street of,
Puddles during rain,
And those buzzing horns off,
On all by-lanes,
Gave no goosebumps,
As always.
The sumptuous ride,
of the fabulous virus,
Created fear amongst the masses.
The funeral of my friend too
Laid off in silence.
Only a handful loved ones
Could attend her last rites.
I remembered,
Those golden school days,
A few decades back,
Then we shared our tiffin
And gossips together.
Knows not when we lost
The contacts of each other.
Meanwhile, life got busier
With the challenges as ever.
Today,
Her freshness smiles in a frame
Where the breeze couldn’t caress
Her pepper white hairs even in vain.
When I looked back, I realized;
The worth of one’s presence in our precious lives!
All Rights Reserved!
Geetha Jayakumar
May her soul rest in peace.
I left a job that I had much enjoyed
To take a new position with a firm
That promised me that I would be employed
With higher pay and bonuses each term.
The job required traveling to meet
With clients and give technical support
For product updates; visits I’d repeat
Each quarter and then turn in my report.
Since Covid I have done this on my phone,
Which worked so well that now they’ve said to me
That I’m laid off—that some much cheaper drone
Can do my job from Washington, D.C.
I’m down, of course, but could this somehow be
A door to some new opportunity?
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