Long Jobs Poems
Long Jobs Poems. Below are the most popular long Jobs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jobs poems by poem length and keyword.
War is when someone wants to take what you have, your land, your life, your possessions.
War is ugly, it is painful, it causes death, it causes physical and mental pain.
War can be planned, like the induction of abortion, addiction, and other negative forces, that lead to death.
War is sometimes good and sometimes bad, it can make people get results that make them live a happy life.
War is sometimes conducted covertly, I am thinking of the hammer of the Scots, how diluting the people was used to weaken the control of the land.
War comes in many forms, like having so many separate interests wanting control.
War of food, war of jobs, war of housing, war of assets are just some of the wars that can happen.
War for love, is one we can all relate to, we have so many types of love, love of possessions, love of a spouse, love of a pet, just to mention a few.
War will always be, it will grow and will sit on the shelf and be remembered, past and current wars, are real, so pay attention and learn all you can.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
They spoke of a Cowboy. Maybe the greatest Cowboy of all thyme is
GalBouis LeRoux! His professional career started manymoons ago.
His Paw was Known named Catgut LeRoux, her was a first chair flutist
in a Sleazy Big Band Get-up. He was also a carnerval worker, taveling regional
area's doing clown jobs and fixing carnvel equipment. One night the strongman
was ill and they asked "Ole Carny" to fill in for him in the rasslin match. He took
the job and still did the gig , taping up his thumb saaying he broke it his losing endeavor
in the bout. His wife said he came home excited and aroused, she said
she became pregant that night, having a Bouncing baby boy nine months later.
People liked making a lyer out of him, so when she called and said she was pregant
and the child was his and to get his" Rutti Tutti songbird ass" down here he did!
GalBouis she said wheeze ah fixing to have us sum chirrin" Years later at the same carnivel were his Ole Paw made his debut, GalBouis LeRoux made his debut bout. "He was sponsered by Accent Cola Brand"
he'd drink the stuff everyday, one night he started talking with an Accent and I called the company and told them,"He crazy now" said his loving wife. GalBouis put your ass in this seat and sign this ole form or paper,Huh, yeah is officail now" she said. GalBouis calmly sat and signed. We is ah fixxing to rassle now, huh? She said hold a oboe and a bottle of expensvie wine,:Get the Bayleaves outta the broth we is ready for eatin now" aint that rite GalBouis LeRoux? Yes Honey he say!
Exercising belief about unknowns.
Makes sense to take your best guess.
Using history, numbers, extrapolation.
Getting the trajectory right for re-entry.
Few dissenters left for climate change, evolution.
Nuclear power brings a process to earth
that occurs only in space. Dangerous
but necessary? Not a risk-averse weasel.
One among many mammals is the weasel,
not known for its consideration of unknowns
but, for its extreme caloric needs, considered dangerous.
My wife says in England violent gusts
forced a locomotive off its tracks. One interpretation
might reasonably be that the mother, earth,
has stopped mothering man. We're entering
a period of unknowns and must evolve.
What might this involve
and what adjustments are possibly feasible?
Walking rather than riding to the subway entrance,
using less electricity until more is known,
preserving agricultural soils and forest land,
buying fewer plastic contraptions.
My brother's washing his pajamas less often.
None of this may make the slightest difference
in how the earth and the sun and universe revolve.
But we are human and addicted to action,
the probable less attractive than the possible.
Also, there's no percentage in respecting death
unless it's imminent. Better to remain centered,
focused on food, child-bearing, war and the poem.
All driveways plowed, all lawns mowed.
Just in time before the first snow, I raked our leaves.
Two eight hour days. What percent of all time is that?
Draw a ray with point A the first pile of leaves
extending to the extrapolating end of universe.
.01 of Aaron. Zero of Zach.
Hawks playing, hunting, mating, canaries in the mine.
Having been too many places to count.
Sex bars, infant formulas, fire crews, last rites, permanent jobs, traffic
tickets, judges' chambers, out houses, wedding banquets, boiling
teapots, frantic centuries, facial tissues, presumed innocent, clear
intentions, stainless steel.
Spiderweb glove. Deerfly earring. Daddylonglegs seeingeyedog.
Memorized songs. Privatized loans.
You cannot know what you're doing until you've done it.
Erudite sweep the floor. Articulate make the bed.
Infrared town hall. Crab nebula. Your last crap.
Eye of the tropical January sun. Slouching toward temperate zone.
‘Twas in another century
On a desolate, dreary day
When something red from skies above
Wafted into the land of gray.
It slowly drifted in the sky,
Then lit on the head of a boy.
For reasons that are unexplained,
It filled his heart with joy.
But the land of grey - it had rules,
Whether they be written or “un-“.
Here every hat must be grey,
And exceptions there would be none.
The notice of the king’s two henchmen,
This violation did not escape.
They took it upon themselves,
The youth’s behavior to reshape.
Perhaps it bothered those big men
To hear that cap say, “look at me!”,
But who can translate words said in “hat”?
It could have screamed “I am free!”
The soldiers were dealt three more cards
And those were number, age, and size.
They grabbed and tossed up that red cap
Back and forth high in the grey skies.
The lad could not catch that dear hat.
Those brute’s mouths filled with laughter.
The tike was separated from his joy
Which he desperately ran after.
Why’d these bruisers enjoy their jobs?
Was it just control to maintain?
Or the simple joy of sharing
The pleasure of inflicting pain?
While we do not know the answer,
We know they hid the hat so trusty
And relegated that red headgear
‘Neath a chair, dark and dusty.
This once political prisoner -
Did he escape? Forgotten instead?
He performed his mystical magic
And is now sitting upon my head.
Dedicated to those who have done their bit.
Keeping our country fighting fit.
Through all the turmoil of the situation.
Standing tall with sheer dedication.
Nhs workers doing long hours.
Deserve more than a bunch of flowers.
Doctors and Nurses not getting a break.
This is ludicrous for goodness sake.
People in care homes looking after our olds.
Keeping all the patients safe now be told.
Wearing gloves and face masks all day long.
Trying to keep everybody strong.
Then theres police, fire service and ambulance people too.
Doing their jobs and protecting me and you.
Food stores keeping food on our plate.
Without whom we'd be in a real state.
Community groups have also stood out.
Get shopping , medication when you shout.
People are cooking and delivering food.
To those in isolation wishing they could.
The next time you see someone doing their work.
Just think COVID 19 is really berserk.
So whether its work or doing a good deed.
Everyone please do take heed.
Please stay in don't let this virus mutate.
Stay safe please don't tempt fate.
Its hard enough the things that they do.
Without another casualty like you and you.
So to all those mentioned from our town.
Here's a little gift sorry no gown.
Moisturiser treats and some lip balm.
Thank you from the people of Calne.
If you want to open a door,
Use the handle and open the door
If you want to overcome unemployment
Use investment and create employment
Encourage workers to become investors
If you want to overcome poverty
Create employment that pays
reasonable wages
Teach people to make
Investments that thrive
Teach people how to build wealth
With people becoming more wealthy
The Government earns more in tax
When your people start doing well
Your country starts doing well
With your country earning more tax
Your budget starts looking better
With more money
You can afford to pay pensions
Taking your children off the streets
and into jobs
Reduces the city's crime
Giving your children jobs
Makes their parents proud
You want to make America great
Build employment for Americans
You want to make the world great
Build employment for the world
Teach people to become investors
Then if robots replace employment
Perhaps people can carry on earning wages
from dividends as we sit by the river drinking wine
Old Dad
I'm glad you had given me
a gift
You gave me
How to save money
You often said it's not what you earn
But it's what you do with what you get
a gift
O dad you gifted me provision a good provider
You made in my Eye Site righteous decisions
Worked for what you needed and want
a gift
O Dad, you giving me your name
a gift
a roof a home a bed to lay in
a gift
And if I could live my life over again
I thank Father God for making me your son
a gift
A family time against all of us
Living together a grande provider
On welfare never on welfare
Co-Creator of my life
O Dad
a gift
Of always working
Never lazy, sick or laid-off jobs or work
Oh, you are the special gift you were
You were on passed on
Now yet he live on in My Brother and Me
My Lord God
My savior my Earthly mother and father my mom and dad You are that gift
.......a gift
9/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2019
Written for project North Omaha writers group (NOW)assignment
ADDONI ZIOT LAUX POETRY ASSIGNMENT
In city streets, where concrete's might
Reigns supreme, I wander, lost in night
A stranger in this urban maze and pain
Searching for a refuge from life's driving rain
The drivers' skills, a mystery to share
A riddle wrapped in chaos, with no one to care
They drive with passion's fire, yet senseless and blind
Their horns, a cacophony, that pierces the mind
A symphony of chaos, that echoes through the night
I search for solace, in the silence, a peaceful sight
The stars above, a twinkling sea
A reminder of the infinite's mystery
Oh, city of gold, where hearts are sold
And love's a distant, fading light, to grow old
I yearn for peace, for a refuge from the fray
A place to call my own, where love will find its way
So I write, to win the bread, and make ends meet
A means to sustain, to survive, and find my feet
The job applications, a never-ending test
The rejections, a familiar tune, that I've learned to rest
"We'll move forward, with another applicant," they say
A phrase, that's lost its sting, as I've weathered many a day
But still I hold on to hope, a glimmer of light
A trust, that God has something better, in store for my plight
Perhaps, I'm being refined, like silver in the fire
A temporary punishment, for my deeds, that will soon retire
For when God opens doors of blessings, no one can shut them tight
I'll walk through them, with gratitude, and a heart full of delight
So I'll keep on writing, through the noise, the chaos, the strife
For in the words, I find my strength, my voice, my life.
The bitter taste of efforts and the hot coal of inputs
are needed to sit on the throne of success
even the short cuts
end up more expensive and stressful
and a short ladder
is no where near the roof.
Climbing such, needs less fire
the lyrics of hard work, they may rhyme
the steps of victory, they may mime
but sooner or later, their methods
will suck like the lice
bringing down the gatherings, no matter the size.
Learn from the masters, they are the enzyme
follow the right path and make a dime
let discipline be your instructor and see it rise
embrace the phase and its taste,
which is similar to lime
cos when its over, a new will present itself
nice, fresh and full of rewards.
Making good use of the time
is an attribute of the wise
doing otherwise is a crime, not nice
and the bargain is inevitable- paying the price.
Choose correctly the ladder and be strong enough to climb,
reach the top and make it all yours.
I don’t dream often, but I dream of Jeanie,
the only one who ever touched my Nadi.
I met her bathing in the Irrawaddy.
You’d classify her as an in-betweenie,
but looking pretty hot in that bikini!
She got me going when she called me ‘daddy’!
Jean self-identified as “thorough baddie,”
but never let me see her Kundalini.
I couldn’t leave her working in that paddy,
so whisked her off to Venice. Like Houdini,
she made the transformation: loved linguini:
but part-time jobs (a waiter, then a caddy)
meant I could not afford her. One bellini
cost forty bucks! Forget the Lamborghini!