The carriage arrived at the ball a few minutes fashionably late.
Which was exactly what Fairy Godmother had hoped for.
However, the carriage was empty.
The door opened and no one appeared.
Where is she? F.G. asked the footman.
He did not talk.
Neither did the driver.
Fairy Godmother was not allowed the luxury of this kind of mistake twice.
Her supervisors appeared from the ether.
First you let Snow White run off with a dwarf,
And now you have lost Cinderella.
What kind of a reenactment are you running here?
At least she got Red Riding Hood home safe, said Pinocchio.
His nose grew a foot in seconds.
That cinched the deal.
They revoked Fairy Godmother’s license.
Amazingly, Alice assaulted an antelope
Because Bobby’s beavers became bold,
Considering cantilevered canines
Deliberately devastating donor’s doled.
Evelyn entirely excited electric eels
Failing forlornly from forward fencing,
Gaining ground gathering genuine gold
Her happiness heralded high financing.
I indicated initially incapable innocents
Justifying joyous juxtaposition jousting
Keeping kind Kenneth’s kindreds knit
Losing language like legally lost lusting.
Maybe minding manners means more
Neither newness nor novel necessary,
Occasionally opening old occlusions
Promises perfectly positioned pituitary.
Quite questionable quicky quirks
Rage rampantly removing regulations,
Summarily startling some supervisors
Touching their tempermental trepidations.
Until unusual undertakings understood
Veritable vigilantes visited volunteers,
Wildly waiting where we wandered
X-citedly X-iting X-istential X-ospheres
Yonder youthful yaks yielded...yikes!
Zebras zigzagged zestfully ziggurat-likes.
Our mayor and city council know what to do
The county supervisors and talk show hosts too
Budget measure HHH we Angelinos passed
Costing billions, homelessness would end at last
There were 57,000 unhoused in L.A. last year
Now it’s 68,000, growing with elections near
The garment district downtown and all of skid row
Are squalid tent camps where filth and despair flow
From the Valley, to Hollywood, out to the beach
Huddled in parks, under bridges, hills out of reach
Some scream and curse, drugged or drunken
Others silent and still, bodies broken, spirits sunken
They’re bad for business, they spread disease!
Will our elected officials do something? Please!
Neglected, abused, mentally ill
There’s really no urgent civic will
Some may receive disability pay
Enough for liquid comfort, but a room? No way
A lifelong Angelino, I feel enraged and defeated
For I see my town by how our worst off are treated
5/31/22
The noise level is ridiculous.
Students are turned in their seats; a no no during a pandemic.
Rooster noises waft through.
We don’t know where they come from, due to the masks.
There is a Soprano’s scream, some stomping.
We catch these students; we can see their shoes.
Dilbert stands up and wiggles his bottom.
He is in fourth grade, and never gets the attention he seeks.
No one notices Dilbert; this is a regular event during lunch.
The masks are up now, and the noise level is up.
Hooting and barking will commence soon.
As far as I am concerned, fourth grade has had their recess.
At the expense of us lunch supervisors.
I will not say it’s not you, it’s me.
I could not insult you like this.
I want you to know however….
I am not going to be able to write a reference letter.
It’s not that I do not like you, for I certainly do.
I have never supervised you.
You need to ask a supervisor.
Not using a supervisor might indicate that
you do not get along well with your supervisors.
Also, I only worked with you about six days.
That is also not impressive on a reference letter.
If they ask me if you are reliable, dependable, punctual,
or trustworthy, I would have to say I have no idea.
I enjoy your friendship, but you need to do yourself a favor
and ask a supervisor to write you a reference letter.
Not a single one of them would out of seven?
I am sorry, but I have no advice, only appreciation that you asked me.
To do you the best favor, however, I have to say no.
Lions in Sheep skins
Is all that is left in the World
No more brotherhood and kins
The world before only need to be told.
From family members to friends,
Supervisors to managers,
Officials to Religious leaders,
Neighbourhood and abroad,
The pure heart is still below the ladders.
Lions in a sheep skin,
They come like sheeps,
Covered in the light of goodness and hope,
As white as snow, as gentle as a dove,
With promises of wonders of Gold.
Their surroundings amongst us are powerful,
We need them now and then,
They know us better, so do they retaliate,
Until we realise we have different interests,
Life is full of amusements, and entertainment.
We like toy soldiers in some cases,
Where ever we go,
in most situations we find ourselves,
From relationship to marriages,
Most of them we find recently......
Are Lions in sheep skins.
Everyone of us is born with a different perception,
One man alone cannot stand,
Yet we need to figure out and investigate,
In order to strike with the right people,
In the right moment of our lives.... Watch out!
Kandjimi Nelson H
Here's to my family
Here's to my friends
Here's to my acquaintances
On whose help I depend
Here's to my mom
Here's to my dad
Here's to my relatives
Whom I met as a lad
Here's to my sisters
Here's to my brothers
Here's to my nanny
Who cared for me like no other
Here's to my daughters
Here's to my sons
Here's to their patience
With their dad when he's wrong
Here's to my mentors
Here's to my teachers
Here's to my coachers
Who gave inspirational speeches
Here's to my doctors
Here's to my nurses
Here's to their treatments
Which insurance reimburses
Here's to my supervisors
Here's to my bosses
Here's to my colleagues
Whom I never bore crosses
Here's to my wife
Here's to my spouse
Here's to my life's partner
Who's the Queen of our House
Here's to One Truth
A Truth e'er to keep, pal
In this crazy world
People need People
A Baby is a Laboratory
Of Wondrous Sights and Sounds;
Coo-cooing and Gurgling,
And moving all around.
Supervisors hover over,
Noting each advance;
Bursting into wild applause
With every tiny dance.
Are you ready?
will made and signed
debts paid and closed
charity to poor done
broken promises fulfilled
family investments done
Are you ready?
have you repented?
Are family, friends prepared
are you set for the great departure
Do you know it is without warning?
Accountants are ready
auditors have calculators
choir ready with welcome hymn
supervisors ready with report
receptionists at the door
Are you ready for the big departure?
check again, reflect on your life
Many songs and poems have been written
about blue Mondays which have bitten
those who work for a living
and have jobs that are unforgiving.
Mondays are hard to face
for those who live a fast pace
on weekends filled with outdoor fun
camping, hiking, biking and fishing in the sun.
Working for eight hours in a cubicle sucks,
employees feel like sitting ducks
at a carnival shooting gallery,
waiting to be targets for a salary.
Routine is their middle name,
tasks which were a challenge have become lame,
supervisors are scratching their heads and
wondering if blue Mondays should be banned.
If that was the case then Monday would be on Tuesday
and feeling blue would be postponed in such a way
that songs and poems would have to be rewritten
as employees enjoy three-day weekends feeling truly smitten.
Cave men were brilliant once upon a time
Women not so much as history tells us
Not good for hunting in the past
Here's why
The hunting of berries is a specialized science
Not just a simple sport
Females are too gentle to the touch
They use an index finger and thumb together
Pluck one berry at a time while at their task
With a measure of indifference
They refuse to use an ax
Cave men hunt the berries down in packs
Follow every leaf and vein they find
Are serious about the bush attacks
Masculine members of the tribe and supervisors
Make sure the fruit stays in their place
Don't lose their flavor
Or escape into the night before the catch
Men use large rocks and clubs behind their backs
Make the berries scream for mercy
Sneak up slowly to squish them dead
Spear them when they least expect it
Before they bring them back
Men and women were hunters gatherers way back when
Fruits and berries ruled the world
Umm Gawa! Berries very good
Poisoned ones
Not very friendly
Maybe cave men and women misunderstood
We rarely get to see our friends
When they are off at work.
We hear about their colleagues
Or their boss who is a jerk.
But picturing their office
Or wherever they’re employed
Isn’t something we spend time on –
(Not unless you’re Dr. Freud.)
So tonight was most intriguing.
I’d occasion to attend
A memorial to Marilyn,
My dear departed friend.
It was organized by workmates,
Many whom she’d known for years.
Though I recognized their names,
We’d had quite different careers.
I heard supervisors’ stories
And from buyers in her field,
Nodding knowingly as all her traits
Were laughingly revealed.
They supplied some missing pieces
Of the life of hers I’d known,
For we each have an impression
Of our friends that’s ours alone.
Though the puzzle’s not completed –
That’s impossible to do –
I increased my understanding
Of the Marilyn I knew.
Only girls in the pink nursery...
(A boy was seen once in a blue corridor.)
This is a small girl's place.
Toys are not unisex, but pink here,
and the supervisors make sure.
At nine, there's a flurry of little girls.
They arrive on the morning train
without their brothers.
I've never asked where the boys go.
A boy was seen in a blue corridor.
His image was on video,
running away from the pink nursery.
"No Boys Here", says our entry point.
If you look at the video,
you see him look quite sad.
9/3/2015
A king is also a man with single mind,
People in the kingdom with many minds,
The pool of minds of people,stronger than the king's sometimes,
"Your strength to compensate my weaknesses,
Your wisdom to help to minimize my mistakes",
To the hearts of his people President Jimmy Carter once spoke,
Kings have wiser,advisors,
People are the supervisors,
If the king ignores the verses of both,
The king is walking along the disastrous path!
A moment in the island of activity and solitude
Where you have no choice but to stay a time
And then go back home and back again
Now worsened by the labourers strife
That bred the supervisors inactivity
And souls bored to tears
Suddenly a moment beside the gentle presence of loveliness
Probably feeling the same as me
A presence that has lasted for just only awhile
With delight and joy in its trail
A moment of respite that leaves us in grief
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