Long Workers Poems
Long Workers Poems. Below are the most popular long Workers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Workers poems by poem length and keyword.
As others run as hard as they can
To get out of the way of the sick and diseased
The doctors and the nurses dash toward them
As others turn their faces inward,
The health providers open their arms and hearts
Giving the afflicted a bit of comfort and hope
As others ignore what is happening
Hoping it will not affect them or their loved ones
The nurses and doctors try to get a bit of sleep
Knowing they will get up the next day and do it all again
And the day after that and the week after that
Until they have nothing left to give.
The healthcare workers of the world are currently on the front lines,
Ready to give whatever support is needed, sometimes laying down their lives
To do what God has called them to do.
They are our heroes. Let us revere them and send them prayers.
Purely Fictional Poem
Robin Hood, 2020
Out of Sherwood Forest,
here me come!
To run for President,
I am the one.
A brazen thief, to sweep
your 401k's clean!
And overburden worker
birds with high taxes,
after all...
I am the King of Mean!
.
With hatred shall you see the
feathers of other birds of a
different color.
I have pitted some of you who
fly....
Writing "BIRDISM"across the
skies and blame my fellow runner.
Victimhood, yes, may it be our
rallying cry!
.
Of course, the poor will never
see the money!
It's only for govermental
workers in fine offices,cushy
and plenty sunny.
I know how to squeeze your
bleeding hearts,
In order to conjure up hatred for
your fellow birds with any money!
Beware, then, my deadly,poison
political, razor sharp arrows!
Lest you fall,like millions of other,
unaware, braindead sparrows!
"You were created to form your
own nest."
That's the lies my opponent crows!
The gall~why he reads from a
defunct book, the Bible, no less.
But I say, pass all your freedoms,
and all seeds over to me.
The sweat of your brow belongs
to humanity, not to thee!
One bird, one vote!
R. Hood
July 31,2019
3:30 pm PST
Form:
An Occurrence in New York at 4.45 pm on March 25th, 1911
True faith, liberty, the flag, our holy soil!
Is it the cause that grants the martyr’s crown?
Should martyrs owe this crown to tyrants or some evil foe?
Are banality, indifference and callousness less cruel?
Anno Domini nineteen eleven was the year,
(on Annunciation Day according to the Church),
Greenwich Village in New York the place,
an overcrowded sweatshop on a ninth floor the scene,
a quarter to five on Saturday, the Sabbath, the hour,
when it befell, ‘it’ being in this case, as the annals state,
‘the worst industrial accident’ this great city ever knew.
The culprit was probably an unextinguished cigarette
thrown nonchalantly into a bin of discarded bits of cloth.
One hundred and forty-six young workers, mostly women,
realized too late their hopeless plight. Hopeless, but why?
Their employers, with healthy profits and public order in mind,
to prevent the pilfering of garments and skiving before five,
prudently kept all exits from the shop floor firmly locked.
A young man and his girlfriend embraced before they leapt.
It was anonymity for the rest,
no parting dirge or priest to bless,
unlike Saint Joan suffering at the stake
Forgotten, did they suffer less?
The whole world considers the Suez Canal passe-partout.
Every day, numerous ships routinely pass through.
A big ship called the "Ever Given" blocked the passageway.
For a while, it looked as if this behemoth was there to stay.
The carrier getting stuck there was quite a calamity.
Many other vessels waited in the Mediterranean and Red Sea.
Other European craft desiring to reach ports in Asia
decided to sail the long way around South Africa.
With considerable effort, workers got the Ever Given free.
Merchant vessels again go through the canal to reach the sea.
from a news story found on www.abcnews.com
As people on our planet,
we could come together all
and build the jobs together
so people do not starve
If you give the people wages
they will buy your planes and trains
they will build your schools and prisons
they can learn to love each day
With money in their pocket's
they will buy from shops, your clothes
by creating then a balance
between the rich and poor
we create a good economy
through-out the living world
through Paris Spain and Portugal
if we build the world a balance
Economies can thrive and grow
as people take on jobs
they can then afford your products
your countries start to thrive
As sales are increasing
you soon enjoy the ride
throughout the world living
as sales start to rise
Economies in Russia
economies in Spain
economies in Holland
would all receive less pain
the world needs more balance
between the rich and poor
by giving decent wages
people start to shop
Economies start thriving
when workers have a wage
the rich becoming richer
now proud, with thriving shops
instead of making bullets
it's mops and office blocks
it's trees that line out motorways
with parks and dancing game's
if we all become investors
there's nothing we can't
it just takes time and balance
if we create, good plans
we can overcome world problems
and save economies
we can build a world for living
we can even save the bee
Invest, it is the key
to overcome the problems
on the world that I see
perhaps in worlds futures
instead of needing jobs
we can live off shares and profits
from the companies that we own
and then employ your robots for the jobs
perhaps by then,
there will be no poor
no starving childer evermore
all people might be thriving
no need to steal and cheat
as people have more money
they all can dance and play
without the thought's of stinking lives
This person was one of the new Proautonomists.
I feared them so I stayed out of her way, fearing her.
She wore her screaming hair in a bunched up wad
It looked like fireworks, spreading out and up in all directions.
In a wide variety of colors, mostly purples and oranges.
Have you actually spoken to her? My mother queried.
This irritated me; she has never worked outside her home.
What would she know about a co-worker? NOTHING!
I do not have to speak to her, I told her, to know she is a freak.
“I taught you better,” she said.
This bothered me for a week or two. So I sat with the freak at lunch.
I have never laughed so hard in my life. She held back nothing.
She listened to me too, and made my stories sound interesting.
She had a gift, this weird crazy exciting Proautonomist.
My mother might not know anything about co-workers,
but she sure knew about people.
In Siberia, orphaned babies die
secured with ropes, workers seldom untie.
And amidst filth and stench, they gasp for air
ignored by everyone who ought to care.
Helpless souls entombed as if in a womb,
swaddled in shrouds where there's so little room.
And the tight enclosure drives them insane
racked with anguish and incredible pain.
Infants view life through cold iron bars
riddled with self-inflicted wounds and scars.
But humanity seems more than willing
to ignore this newest form of killing.
Every human has the right to breathe free,
not cruelly bound, where no one can see.
But these bundles of life await death's call,
as the weak and injured die where they fall.
Left to their nightmares and torments as such
without a kind word or gentle touch.
And feeble bodies house imprisoned minds,
pray God doesn't judge Man by what He finds.
7/12/2017
How the wind plays
across the water
in changing patterns,
its skittish mood drawn
in ripples and rivulets
of sparkle under
a morning sun.
The small boats fidgety
at their moorings
as if roused by longings
of freedom,
cormorants riding
the unrest on bobbing prows
with outstretched wings
drying in the wind.
See how the day
is slowly being assembled,
putting itself together
with ferry boats
and dogs pulling on leads,
wired joggers, noisy children
in school uniforms
crowding at bus stops,
workers putting up signs.
How it all seems
to be following some hidden
script. And here I am, again,
walking the morning
looking for what I lost
in the long hours
of a sleepless night
when it doesn't
have a name,
being ushered by the wind
towards a somewhere
or nowhere at all,
helped along
my shuffling way
by a strange sense
of unhurried trust
that all will be OK.
This poem is not meant to be a speech nor is it written to offend or give anyone blame.
It just a mere observation of how today leaders choose to bring civilasation back into the slave trade.
What a confusion of misconception when one term is mistaken in conversation.
Horrors of slavery now waterdowned for modernization.
Underpaid abuse workers identified as no different from mass excavation from African nations.
How can slavery still exist when slaves broke the law back then.
And now modern slaves can use the law to protect them
Still we debate how to eradicate slavery.
Without the admittance of our desrire for more for less
Still we debate, but not on how propaganda can work for our interest.
How can shackles and chains, branded and slained
Be compared to smuggle and threatened, low pay and mistreated.
Imagine generations of babies born into slavery with no prospect of ever knowing anything different
Imagine seeking refuge, better life but being tricked into cheap labour.
Absolute sub human bondage that we wont tolerate for our wildest of wildlife
Force to work long hours with minimum pay so stakeholders can get their share.
Cotton picker slaves, plantation slaves, breeding slaves, game slaves under institutions designed to seek maximum gained whilst inflicting maximum pain.
Started out seeking refuge and a better life but conned into taking a different path of trouble and strife.
Sold to the highest bidder in auction houses, record kept for compensation and ownership.
Smuggle underground,whilst living next door in total hardship.
Nowadays, topic,how to end modern day slavery.
Back then was how to universaly enforce it.
Nowadays slavery,redemption and even compensation.
Back then not even criminalization only normalisation.
Slavery means seveitude multiply by desititute then magnify it by four hundred years equals privileges with blood stain riches.
Exploitations means, starting with gratitude trick into solitude minus Non Gratis equals affordability without resposibility.
Please stop trying to rewrite history with mystery
Inorder to patronized your higher devious morality.
Can you imagine being chained in a ship and taken to a strange land against your will?
Can you imagine you and yours being shackled and sold to farms to work the land?
Can you imagine being whipped for just saying something or looking the wrong way?
Can you imagine your wife or daughter being used as brood mares to create more workers?
Can you imagine your loved ones being categorized just like any other livestock?
Can you imagine finally acquiring your freedom after a lifetime of imposed servitude?
Can you imagine a country founded on the ideal of freedom denying it to so many?
Can you imagine being hated and treated unequally just because you looked different?
Can you imagine being hunted by people in hoods with bibles and crosses in their hand?
Can you imagine being in fear for your life just for walking someplace or talking to someone?
Can you imagine seeing your father or son in a hangman’s noose swinging from a tree?
Can you imagine not being able to use a bathroom just because you were the wrong color?
Can you imagine having to scold your child for using one of those bathrooms?
Can you imagine being told that you cannot ride in a seat in the front of the bus?
Can you imagine being told there is no vacancy at a motel when you know there is vacancies?
Can you imagine people not serving you at a restaurant because you were not the right color?
Can you imagine people crossing the street because they feared walking by you?
Can you imagine having feelings for someone but not acting on them because of others?
Can you imagine being gunned down by those who are supposed to protect and serve?
Can you imagine being sprawled out on the ground with someone’s knee on your neck, struggling for every breath, asking for your mother, knowing the life is slowly draining from your body and wondering why?
Can you imagine?