Long Work force Poems

Long Work force Poems. Below are the most popular long Work force by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Work force poems by poem length and keyword.


The Unions : One For All and All For One

before labor unions came into existence businesses were run like monarchies
where those in positions of power treated the workers atrociously
no sick days, no overtime, no vactions and no minimum wage
and some work place conditions were worse than an animal's cage

but throught the grace of God and American ingenuity
the laborers joined together and the unions came to be
organized for the advancement of the shared interest of the work force
a confederation of laborers who at one time had no recourse
fired without cause, no work injury compensation and hardly a lunch hour
but with the labor unions now in place the workers have a measure of power
bargaining for health insurance and decent salaries
negotiating for better conditions and job security

thank God for the unions as collectively we band
one for all and all for one, united we now stand
Form: Narrative


Look For Solutions

I listened to the story 
of a car factory 
that was going 
to close down

Again I thought
three hundred workers
that are going to be
out of work

If only 
they would work together
Two years before hand
they knew the end was coming

They knew they had 
redundancy money
investing together
could they not, make

Another factory
they have the design skills
they have the engineers
they have the managers

They have the investment
all they need is another idea
another direction
another job

They said on face book
that in fifteen years
38% of the work force
will be replaced by robots

yet people still need jobs
increase the tax
perhaps people could get money
from the dole

yet then company's 
would leave 
for third world economies
where they paid less tax

leave the world to head 
down this path 
and you destroy 
your consumer market

!8,000 children already die
everyday from hunger 
and starvation
what future are you creating

surely the human race 
has a brain
surely we can create 
a better system

Turn people into investors
perhaps they can earn dividends
instead of wages
for the system to work

people need money
to buy their food
as jobs become 
redundant

We need to change 
the way people 
get money
society needs to think

use your brains 
we have a problem
how do we create 
a solution
Form: Narrative

Sugar in the sun

Two women hugging one man, it's a paradox that I cannot understand, both seem to be in harmony with their man, gallivanting in the sun and having tequila and white rum. The sun heat burns mercilessly on their backs, soaking through thin pants and frock; the man in the middle has nothing to fear but enjoy the company that was so dear. 

I walk breathlessly along the hot sand as the heat penetrates the land; but the breeze trapped in the trees, forces a melody that harmonize with the breeze. It was like a musician picking the strings on a guitar, racing to catch the rhythm that is tangled in the trees, everyone could hear it and they all appreciate it.

The rhythm of the earth is moving with the rhythm of mankind as it journey across the land, trying to find a base to settle down but several people have already left the town. Some resides by the sea with a vision that is walking with thee. Two women to one man are playing polka on the sand.
 The birth rate is coming down, and the population is dwindling in the town and there is no one to fill the void in cities and town. 

What will China do, when there is no crowd at Tiananmen Square and the temple of heaven is left lonely and bear, what will happen to the sprawling shopping centers, and all the places that were built to accommodate million at the sugar mills, will robots be human companions? It’s very hard to understand.

Two women to one man will be the new surprise on the land; the robots will be around, and they will invade every fabric if life in the town. Everything is moving with the breeze, and the universe began to feel the squeeze; long days are getting shorter, the work force is decreasing, and my heart is not at ease for there is no one to sing the hymns.

It is a frightened world, you have got to educate the girls, and if you stop to think about it you will end up with terrible fists. Empty house, empty land, empty schools, empty church and there is nowhere to entertain the world, the stadium will be empty and no one will be working for “charity”. Add some sugar to the sun and nature will send you on the run.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Xenophobia- Target the Bird Not the Tree

Seems as a country full of saints and carriers of purity
as all crimes are interestingly attributed to outsiders
tagging them the influential teachers of immorality
yet such crime lovers show the capability of posing a threat
through the embarrassment caused on locals due to their industrious nature

Understanding the half-hearted privileges such a partial acceptance offers,
settlers become more creative, hardworking and productive
with limbs running on entrepreneurship, trade and commerce
while citizens comfort themselves
in the exaggerated pride of their home soil 
which results in a war without cause or reason

The government ought to be a job creator
but how ironic, internationals are paying dearly for it.
It is claimed that foreigners are the thrombus in the channel of employment.
Yet these hated people
are self employed with shops, businesses and service centers
which are destroyed as a form of remittance of some sin

Every nation has her share of international mixture
yet a lot do not debase them as foreigners or aliens
the one down south of the dark island of all countries should be the least,
considering the continent’s role in its history,
irrespective of what her excuse may be

Look inwards if strangers are preferred in the national work force,
to find some answers- you angry mob
Examine your home, if passers-by enjoy more of the milk it produces.
Why target and shoot at the tree
when the bird is left alone to dine and sing?

Policemen catch fun while a soul converts to black coal,
humans lynched like a left over meal from vultures,
businesses ransacked and turned into forceful philanthropy,
these are evidences of character built on a very low budget.
If those responsible do nothing about social development,
With or without these ‘aliens’, the economic problems will still prevail
Form: Epic

Ballad of Zefferino

BALLAD OF ZEFFERINO


Somewhere along the border
Between the U.S and Mexico. 
A man makes a break
For what he thinks
Is a land of gold
He's left his home and his family
Up here just trying to make a life.
He doesn't speak the language
But understands the hate in your eyes 
Gringos call him Wetback.
And they spite him just for being a man
He's no threat to them all has to spend.
Is time working with his hands
They holler at him  get back
Across that border to Mexico
We don't want you here
We're not willing to share our land of gold.
He sweats blood working in your factories
His pride callused picking in the fields
And it's a country's shame to say he's to blame
He's the work force behind the scenes
You see him working in the restaurants 
He mows your lawns and keeps your homes clean.
He's not on some corner with a sign
Begging for money to buy a meal
You go to churches
And pray for God to bless the USA 
You call yourselves Christians
But you've forgotten what your Bibles say
We're all children of immigrants
That came here to make a new start
Now the  song of the American Dream
beats to the rhythm of  a Mexican heart
Somewhere along the border
Between the U.S. and Mexico.
Form: Rhyme


To Prevent a Disaster

A deal-killer was needed to prevent a disaster,
the service company couldn't exist anymore
if the president hadn't taken a lower bid;
it had relied on the work force for over twenty years,
and it could have hurt the employees who needed an increase,
rather than the employer who had a constant cash flow.


They had to make a choice...accept and sign the new contract,
and stay in business for another five years, or more;
from the looks on everybody's face, it didn't sound pleasant,
but who would  have chosen the unemployment line? 
The employer felt terribly for the bad deal-killer, but also a relief
saving thousands of jobs around Christmastime.


To compensate the workers for their loyalty, the employer offered them
a monthly bonus and open overtime for everybody willing to work hard,
so that deal-killer proved to be extremely beneficial... 
coming at a time when extra cash could have brought more gifts
that they couldn't afford in the first place, had the deal-killer been denied...
and they wouldn't have wished one another, " Happy Holidays! "

Premium Member Blissfulness Exposition

"Be blissfully blessed by God's bestowment... bountifully benefitting with His grace beyond temporal bonuses, while sharing them along heart that's beauteous." by the Poet

Midst blissfulness for blessings everyday
Jubilant heart praises the Lord as source
Of compassion with peace and mercy’s ray
Toward accomplishment along work force.

Midst joyfulness for faith-fortitude’s brace
Triumphant soul worships with joyous glow
Marked by redemption upon hope and grace
Toward reaching-out along blessings’ flow.

Midst exuberance for glad attitude’s zest
Radiant spirit prays in sincere plight
With cheerful hope and miraculous best
Toward sharing along caring delight.

Midst happiness* for God's love, surely great
Vibrant life ripples with thanksgiving mirth
Upon exposure of reliance-trait
Toward service along partnership's worth.

*Psalm 144:15 Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the LORD.  

May 21, 2023
1st place, "Writing Challenge - B Quotes -" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 5/25/2023.
Edited on June 1, 2023
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member This World of Dew

I see a green tree. It is all I want.
A dry rocky mountain and a hawk
satisfy. To die spiritually in
the hot sun and the body go on
climbing. To take the paths among
the rocks and mahogany bush.
To feed on rock lichen and blue
sky. To not need a house.

To leave my mind in the foothills.
To climb everything but blind. In
the deer shade of the cool aspens.
Forgotten by the work force and the shrew.
Bored as a badger disturbed at
its stream. Free singing as the stream
cutting the gorge. Cool as a hummingbird
in its wet spray. Caterpillar fur.

I stay in the mountains unknown.
The roof soot of the city calls me back.
The museum women shaking their bodies
at the stuffed tigers. The meditating
curators and entrepreneurs. Burro.

                  *                  *                  *

Old Basho, early Spring, took fond leave of his friends,
closed his small house at edge of village,
and with one peasant companion climbed the long narrow road to
      the North.

Blessed morning!
      the day I left life behind
            but not this world of dew.
Form: Verse

Reunion, May 2012

The village has grown bigger
The way that villages do
Parts  have been demolished
And parts of it are new.
The Hotel has expanded,
Very little is the same,
Except the warm atmosphere 
And they’ve kept the name.

Nearly fifty years gone since
We were last together there,
Faces changed and wrinkled
And some have lost their hair.
But, these aging bodies house
Minds that are young at heart
So much reminiscing to do 
To cover all those years apart.

Thoughts of those friends
We’ve lost over the years
Absent friends toasts made
Eyes maybe holding unshed tears.
There’s a walk around the area
And on up to the camp site
Retracing those footsteps
Made after many a boozy night.

Most of the buildings are gone,
The Square  weeds and grass,
Sure sign of a  changing world
As time has steadily passed.
Most of it now new built housing,
An upmarket residential estate
No longer a guarded entry
No longer a guardroom and gate.

The operations block a clubhouse
For the eighteen hole golf course
Now a recreational area once
Inhabited by a military work force.
For years she guarded democracy
Kept an ever watchful eye
But priorities perceived to have 
Changed as years have gone by.

We have walked around our past
Taken note of the changes seen
Each awash with his memories
Each glad that he’s been.
Then we part at the station as
Our reunion finally ends
After all those years glad we took 
A chance to see some old friends.
Form: Rhyme

Working With Witches

My labour is not a slavery  of that i can assure you .

Do not confuse my good manners with weakness or subservience to you , for that would be a mistake.

Your laziness and inadequacies are blinding to me and  too those who work beside me and seemingly under you .

You have no idea of how we , 
your work force expend  our energies to the point of exhaustion for the pittance you call a fair wage .

Your ignorance toward others is at best a fault of your up bringing at worst the very thing that karma shall see and unfurl her wings and strike you and your kind down . 

You wear the most expensive shoes but one day you will wear clogs .

You wear fine clothes with the most delicate and fine stitching, one day you shall be adorned in rags .

You eat at the finest restaurants and enjoy the best of food , one day you shall scurry for stale bread and foul water.

You think your self and others with whom you share the trough , untouchable, one day you will be defiled and your selves brought to account.

Therefore ‘Be sure to show respect to all around you ,for there maybe among your workforce 
‘witches ‘
who would bring justice too the good folk and a deserved curse upon thee .

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