Long Office Poems
Long Office Poems. Below are the most popular long Office by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Office poems by poem length and keyword.
Recess Bell
Where'd it go
That twice a day relief
Leaving behind blackboard's chalk-lines
To immerse in the blacktop chalk-lines
That place where hop scotch
Poison line
River ball
Target ball
Quickly made chalk nubs
Made innocent everyone's fun
Made sad classroom returns
That ringing in our ears
Announcing freedom time
Now but a morning and afternoon
Workplace coffee break
Signaled by silent bells
Company rules
Good for morale
Where'd it go
The real breaks of our youth
That escape from control-seeking minds
Racing across playgrounds
Making sweat that was real
Laughter that was infectious
Exhaustion no amount of
Head-time on the desk
Could relieve
Chalkboards out
Monitor screens in
Grownup hours made endless
Stress related focus
9 to 5 at the desk
7 to 10 at home-office sanctum
Homework
The evolved institution
Resulting in maybe...
Possibly getting...
A gold pen?
A gold watch?
A golden parachute?
Maybe?
Recognition
Reward
Life's profit margin
Remaining ever questionable
Don’t the minutes seem like hours as we run the office maze?
Then we wonder where the time went; time seduces, time betrays,
Till we’ve got to pause between midnight and dawn
To recover from the strain. We hear the same drop of rain.
You can sense the knotted tension neatly coiled around my gut;
All those squeaky apprehensions swinging open, swinging shut.
Need to oil that hinge with a scotch on the rocks,
Or whatever dulls the pain. We hear the same drop of rain.
And it’s pounding on the darkness, and it’s pounding on the heat,
And it’s pounding on the silence so hard,
Like the taunting of The Raven, and The Tell-tale Heart combined,
Or some oriental torture – diabolic, yet refined.
I can sense your desperation when a deadline’s drawing near.
And your maddening frustration is reflected in the mirror.
And you’d like to scream, but the rules clearly state:
It’s improper to complain. We hear the same drop of rain.
Can ya catch the sweet distraction glimmer coyly through this mess?
Can ya taste the shy desire? I’ve been tempted to confess
What I fantasize when I’m thinking of you
Isn’t easy to contain. We hear the same drop of rain.
We’ve been running at the power, we’ve been running at the glory,
We’ve been running at the money so hard.
I don’t know if I should tell what I imagine we might do
On a stormy night together when the working day is through.
When the minutes seem like hours and the hours seem like days,
I’ll be waiting there to court you with a sly, flirtatious gaze.
And it takes my breath, should our eyes chance to meet –
It’s both sacred and profane. We hear the same drop of rain.
Rosa,
Poor, beautiful God’s perfect creature
Everything good on her
Regardless the size of her pocket.
She is just a mere teenager
But her troubles are older than her.
Her office is the country club
At Najera
The floor with glitering shining tiles
Is her office seat
And
The dancing pipe,
Is her desk
She is a club dancer.
Rosa,
A part time dancer
And a student at one of the universities,
She comes from a humble background
So, all troubles are beyond her measure.
She is a student before the sun sets
And later,
When the sun has gone to rest
She is a dancer
Who earns from her beauty.
Touch and continue.
Rain is falling as I look out the window—
It’s December and I’m left to wonder
where time itself has gone.
Through the years I’ve driven highways
ribbons of pavement, never knowing
where they would reach their end.
I became friends with construction workers
as they tore up and rebuilt roads.
Throughout the day I held onto my sign
to stop lines of cars then let them go.
On Fridays I took the call from the office
to learn where I’d go for the next assignment.
I spent years driving with the passing sun
as my life unfolded through miles.
But now I’m staying in town.
People in diners here talk about the weather
to get to know each other and pass time.
People in bars here talk about their teams
and can discuss their favorite plays for hours.
I take in passing conversations and nod my head.
It’s December and I’m left to wonder
what brought me to this time and place.
The roads that carried me across states
brought me here to a quiet street
that ends at a wooded ravine.
My ears ring as I sit in my time and place.
A spread of trees in winter laid bare
waits for the arrival of spring.
Rain is falling as I look out the window.
Everything is deathly still in the grey office lounge.
A young man sits as silent as the plants beside the door.
Not a drop of wind stirs, not a sound nor greeting heard
Except for the man biting his nails down to the quick.
Licking dry lips nervously from time to time
He casts eyes towards the clock every few seconds,
but even time stands still.
He crosses his legs shaking one foot at
a steady rythm…. One. two …one.. two
Yet no one moves ,no one speaks
Then as his name is called rigid knees thrown suddenly into action
crack awake as the man lurches forward with stiffened gait
a confident smile flashing accross his face.
but I feel something more, something he endeavors to conceal.
I feel the electrified tension ricochet off those grey walls
shocking my scalp with static volts.
I hear too his erratic heart beats and sense the paralyzing panic
ripping through his gut.
And in that quiet office building these transmitted sensations
are louder even than the sound of silence.
Beware Of Christmas
Careful: ‘Fast Christmas Approaching - Mind The Gap -Terms And Conditions Apply’
Warning: ‘This Is A Chocolate Santa Claus Contains Food Products And Mythology’
Edible under certain conditions only Not for children with pumpkin allergy This product
may contain residues from Halloween or scary associations with partial savoury nudity as well as poverty Connotative ribs and cribs should be imbibed with caution The full product
manual is available on the internet under www.biblestorieslimitedandrevised Please note
that Father Christmas is a commercial adaptation of an ancient theme (Jerusalem/Norway)
This sweet personification is wrapped in tin foil thus do not mistake for amalgam fillings but
once confused remove either foil or fillings or see your dentist for professional care advice
If you or your children have no medical aid consult foreign embassies regarding urgent
translocation to another country for treatment If your head of state expels migrants to
Mexico behind safe walls and reciprocal arrangement apply remove him from office or take
a chocolate boat to Syria Keep wrapper for electronic monitoring of journey and paradigm
Note Santa is real in transfer only Risk of posttraumatic stress Cave Jesus was a migrant too
20th October 2016
kute and kuttlely
anty and so kuttery
Little Litty Lilly
Loty Lolly likes too
Likes to chew
The dawg bones
When I come home from the office
Kitty Pearl drinkin' at the kitchen faucet
kute and kuttely
Yellow and buttery
Little Litty Lilly
Loty Lolly likes too
Likes to untie and nipple shoelaces on our shoes
Here kitty, kitty
No~ wait to stop that
Scat cat for heaven sake Kat sitting on my hathat
the condescending, contented cat sat on my hideous, hilarious hat
While Little Litty Lilly Loty Lolly still pawing and gnawing my shoe latches
7/9/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
Hello the House and Senate
By Franklin Price
10/21/2016
Hello the House and Senate
Democrat, Republican
To all of you in Washington
Every elected woman, man
To incumbents in position
I would like to have a word
I believe from We the People
The inconvenient useless herd
You act as if you're royalty
Ascension put you in that place
I hope you see that isn't true
Your hint; the presidential race
Whether we were right or wrong
We the People brought the Trump
If elected he may bring great things
Or take us to the dump
It's something that the people did
For you blocked him every way
Even his own party said
He wasn't qualified to play
I hope that he's elected
Then maybe you will face
That we're tired of the establishment
Believe you are a big disgrace
If he doesn't make it
Because you've slandered him at will
Be advised that we the people
Will work to get you off the hill
We're here to take our country back
It's not only for the rich
Work for us, or we'll vote you out
And show you life can be a *****
Replace your throne with office chair
Put yourself behind the plow
Your welcome to be there for us
Or we'll vote you out, we vow
I sat in your office
Feeling you as one I could trust
Vulnerable need, open
You, doing what you must
I thought you saw me
Equal and educated
But no...I...another patient
A person, heavily medicated
With a stroke of your pen
You wrote away my value
Hallucinations, depression
Convicted, on the way to the gallows
What have you to do with me
How dare you see HIS hand
How can your dim eyes see
Your hardened heart, understand
I am not in need of your care
I finally accept your view
Your experience of me
Is nothing new
...crazy, worthless...but anointed...what else can I do
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05-06-2026
Note: The way physicians see mental illness
She wanted to be an exotic dancer, but she was a receptionist.
Other receptionists wanted to be an admin assistant.
She was not one of those; she wanted a stripper pole.
She was envisioning herself in a sparkly tutu, sans ruffle.
Her boss had apparently asked her something a couple of times.
She looked at her prissy face wearing its prissy clothes.
This office was ugly; she fit in well. She was ridiculously demanding
Sure, she agreed. She always agreed. She needed this ugly job.
If exotic dancing did not work out, she would be a gypsy wagon designer.
She loved them, and she had the wardrobe for it at her house.
Not here where she had to wear a confining jail sentence of a suit.
And heels which she despised. But it brought in the potato chip money.
The boss was calling her again. Did she expect her to go in there?
She sighed.
Same old routine.
Call and I come.