Long Inspectors Poems
Long Inspectors Poems. Below are the most popular long Inspectors by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Inspectors poems by poem length and keyword.
God needs your faith
otherwise he disappears behind your eyes
and you both go blind.
There are ancient inspectors looking into
your kidneys and liver.
Their horn-rimmed glasses
peer from under tortoise shells,
they search for any useful ingredients.
The science of looking is very old.
God awakes in a dream of you;
immediately begins
to stuff your hollowness
with blood and guts.
The soil x-rays you,
the sky photoshops your mind
erasing the smudged indecency
of any brain-damaged parts.
Some say this and some say that;
warm breath and cold air
blows through your burning straw.
Both the wise and the simple
allow themselves to be rocked gently
upon their own cupped hands.
I remember my mom having a collection of hats she stored under her bed.
For any occasion that could arise…she had a hat to set atop her head.
Moms of today are different…often they go out with their heads bare
because of this we don’t often realize…all the hats they wear.
If we tried to count all their hats...we can’t…for the list goes on indefinitely
perhaps one way to approach it...would be alphabetically.
Moms are Accountants, Babysitters, Chauffeurs...They do what Doctors, and Electricians do
They are Farmers, Governors, Housekeepers, and Ice cream vendors too.
They are Janitors, Kitchen and Laundry workers, and Maids who clean the floor.
They are Nurses, Optometrists, Painters, Quality control inspectors…there’s more.
They are Receptionists, Seamstresses, Teachers…Umpires…and not always soft spoken…they are Valets, Wardens, X-Ray technicians who can tell if that bone is broken.
They are Youth counselors and every Mom I know is a keeper of the Zoo
If you’re keeping track that’s 26 different hats...26 different jobs that all Moms do.
Moms are the original and still the best multitaskers the world has ever met.
In fact, I didn’t run out of hats for them...I ran out of alphabet.
I guess it’s a good thing each job doesn’t have a hat that sits atop Moms head
for there wouldn’t be enough room to store them in boxes beneath their beds.
They are visionaries, they are cheerleaders, so much of our existence they adorn
yet they had no experience being a mom until their first child was born.
For it was at that miraculous moment in a panic mixed with calm
when the doctor handed them their baby and said, “Congratulations…you’re a Mom!”
And to any Mom who might not have given birth…might not have been there from the start…here’s to all the Mom hats you’ve worn once you opened up your heart.
Do you remember that miraculous feeling…with a mixture of panic and calm…
whether you chose the moment…or the moment chose you…
when you became a Mom?
And therein lies the hat that encompasses all the rest...the hat called motherhood
and to all you Moms out there…I must admit…you make that hat look good.
So to all the Moms everywhere,
here’s wishing you a wonderful Mother’s Day…for all the things you do…
for all the many hats you wear…
our hats are off to you.
they sound like a bunch of squabbling bar patrons.
"tell them to get back to work!", they should listen
to her because she's the boss and represents the company they work for. The issue at hand is that the ranking floor manager and
the ranking assitant manager are in dispute due to the
managers having the ability to bully his once co-worker who
stayed sick and often was absent from work. for a year the manager
extracted his brand of revenge against his co-hort.
Once in front of visiting inspectors he said " the wood used to build
the pallets comes kinda cheap cause their's enough ***'s around, that we have wood readily available" he stopped and said "no pun to the assistant manager,".
When the assistant manager got him alone he cornered him and warned him against being rude in front of the gest, he asked him" what are you tryna do"?
well the assistant manager found through an anonymous source that a opening that required additional training would be opening once the Sales manger took her Pregnancy leave, the course would be three weeks and the only problem was he'd have to leave early for three weeks to get to the college on time. He wanted to keep the training a secret so he'd have to find away to let his boss, to allow him to come in early for three weeks. So he thought about it and came up with having to help his brothers girlfriend with her pregnancy class. The boss allowed him to come in earlier and leave early so he could make the class. well for two weeks he made the class and he put in for the job. Not knowing he qualified when word got around the warehouse, the fellows started teasing him. well he got the job and everybody under him started worring. the first thing he did was........
When I was young my mom, like most women, donned a hat when she went out.
Dad said it added to her beauty…of this I had no doubt.
My mom had a collection of hats she stored in boxes under her bed.
So many different kinds of bonnets that sat atop her head.
Moms of today are different they go out with their heads bare
but one thing they share with Moms of the past are the many hats they wear.
If we tried to count the hats they don...we couldn’t...they go on indefinitely
Perhaps one way to approach it...is alphabetically.
Moms are:
Accountants
Babysitters
Chauffeurs...they do what
Doctors and
Electricians do…they are
Farmers
Governors
Housekeepers, and
Ice cream makers too…they are
Janitors
Kitchen and
Laundry workers, and
Maids who clean the floor…they are
Nurses
Optometrists,
Painters
Quality control inspectors and furthermore they are
Receptionists
Seamstresses and
Teachers…they can
Upholster that sofa or that chair…they are
Valets
Washroom Attendants and
X-Ray technicians…ready anytime and anywhere…they are
Yard managers and every Mom I know is also a keeper of the
Zoo
That’s 26 different hats they wear…
26 different jobs that all Moms do.
Moms are the original and still the best multi-taskers the world has ever met.
In fact, I didn’t run out of hats for them...I ran out of alphabet!
I guess it’s a good thing each job doesn’t have a hat that sits atop Moms head
for there wouldn’t be enough room to store the boxes under their beds.
They are visionaries, they are cheerleaders, so much of our existence they adorn
yet they had no experience as a mother until the day when we were born.
Because it was at that miraculous moment, despite their fearfulness and qualms
when they smiled as they looked at us and realized……’I’m a Mom.’
For that is the hat that encompasses the rest...the hat we call motherhood
and I must admit, from where I stand
Moms…you make that hat look good.
So Moms, here’s to a wonderful Mother’s Day as this poem bids you all adieu
For all the many hats you wear…
our hats are off to you.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
Restaurants have ratings now;
They’re mostly A’s or B’s.
Eating in a C or worse,
You might catch a disease.
When eating out, I never think
About the kitchen’s state;
‘Cause if I did, I might regret
The food that I just ate.
If restaurants have a sign that says
“Grade Pending,” then you know
They want a better grade but they
Still have a ways to go.
The only place I ever saw
That did display a C
Was a Chinese take-out and that grade
Encouraged me to flee.
I’d had their noodles many times
When Chinese food I’d sought,
But noticing that C on view
Provided food for thought.
Since restaurants are well aware
Inspectors will patrol,
They’d better clean their kitchens up
And make the honor roll.
A C will scare the customers
The minute that they spot it.
From that point on, they’re wondering
Just why the restaurant got it.
And thoughts like those I will reserve
For quite another poem;
‘Cause if you’d think about it,
You would choose to eat at home!
Ilene Bauer (http://primetimerhyme.blogspot.com)
No estate should be able to turn away health inspectors,
No estate should be able to turn away ambulances,
while bleeding internally,
No estate should need to employ so many muckrakers,
or bush lawyers.
No estate should hold so many water rights,
if they pour cold water over journalists,
who want to investigate,
No estate should hold so many gun licenses,
until shooting oneself in the foot is no longer endemic,
No estate should be given awards for mediocrity,
No estate should have license to print money,
to pay for influence.
No estate should be bereft of microscopes,
or access to an eye specialist.
No estate should hold so many contracts out of state,
to stifle competition,
No estate can survive without bread and butter
or an understanding that no freedom is absolute.
No estate can survive when it no longer sees the need to spellcheck,
and uses words covered in sauces past their use by date,
No society can survive when it has a fourth estate,
that no longer pays heed to the edicts of,
Walter Cronkite or his ilk.
The Grocer and Dreamer
The local grocer calls his shop
The best supermarket in town
Although his shop is small
He has big dreams, sells jam
tinned beans, bananas, lemon
and chocolate cakes
He also sells local wine made
on a plot, run by his brother
In the morning, he has fresh
From a bakery that has few
Customers as it sells real bread
That is not packed in plastic
A big supermarket nearby
Will open soon
Our grocer, harassed by health
Inspectors every week sold
The shop to the new supermarket
They promptly closed his shop
The grocer who had big dreams
Bought a van and sells groceries
In the countryside
It's time to shock the system
It's leavin' us behind
The company the government
Left us down the mine
My great-great-great grandfather
Up in Harper's Ferry town
Swinging from the gallows
With the body of John Brown
Grandad fought in France
And Dad did time in Vietnam
I was proud to serve in Iraq
When they knocked our towers down
Then come home to West Virginia
And do what I'd planned to do
Get a job at Upper Big Branch
Have a wife and child or two
So many corners cuttin'
And a couple people died
The inspectors they did nothin'
Turned their blind eye to the side
It wasn't much surprise then
When our brothers twenty-nine
Were buried by the rubble
Never came up from the mine
I could blame the company
For doin' what they did
But the scorpion always stings the frog
'Cause that's just who he is
It was those damn inspectors
And the government they're from
They take our pride and money
Then they tell us we've become
Ignorant and racist
Backward and behind
Bible-thumpin' fools
Livin' in a bygone time
Well you go 'head and think that
Mr. Harvard Ivy League
I know one thing you don't
The last laugh belongs to me
It's time to shock the system
You'll hear me and how
I don't know what we're in for
But you'll pay attention now
January 27, 2017
Headlines of irony in life…
Human satire—cuts like a knife.
The unsinkable ship, that sinks.
Surrounded by peeps, yet alone.
Priests who ‘prey’—yet sins they atone.
Pastor fights alcohol, but drinks.
Tax czar who cheats on his taxes.
Animal fans—hunt to relax.
Abortion kills—with nods and winks.
Lifeguard fearing water—lauds land.
‘Football’—a game played with the hands.
Oedipus—breaks riddle and Sphinx.
Headlines of irony in life...
“Women”—they may now take a wife.
The steakhouse owned by a vegan.
Pedophile daycare directors.
Homeless real estate inspectors.
WAR—‘politics’ by other means.
Fighting drugs, while promoting booze.
Mutual consent—the new ruse.
Prolonged charity squelches teens.
Green tinted speckles on bluefish.
Hitler’s Grandfather was Jewish!
Men—affectionately called ‘queens.’
In life, every nook and cranny,
Holds the next ‘headline irony.’
Good, bad, or sad—it’s Uncanny!
June 2, 2018
Written for Connor Lotts' poetry contest entitled, "Hutinashro - My First Contest Poetry Contest"
I wonder if it’s that hard?
I am young and full of years.
I walk this beach every day and watch
The tides come in, and drive back out.
Birds fly gracefully above my head and
The breeze blows sand into my face.
My feet sink into the damp out skirt of the shore
And I splash around in the water.
It’s not easy to come across death and not respond
In some sort of way. I am full of energy
And you lay by my side faded away.
Even though you are only a bird
You deserve a proper burial. Your wings have
Insects circling around them. Buz-buz and zzzz.
They are waiting for me to
Go. But I can’t just leave you here.
What if it was me laying here dead?
I would like to think just because I am human
And you are an animal, we are similar.
We both share the same air,
We both need nourishment, we both live and
We both die. I’d like to think if I were you someone
On this planet would care.
You once flew with that sun kissed colored wings
I walk with these porcelain painted legs
As I take off my white zip- up sweater and show you respect
I gently cover you before the rest of the inspectors come.
How you ended up along this beach
Lifeless and deserted, I shall never know.
Maybe you were sick? Or it was just your time.
But I will give you a proper burial
It’s a seed that I must sow
Showing respect for a life
As the tide comes and it goes.
By: Sabina Nicole