830.
Paghingyo kay Dr. Alfon
Oh Dr. Alfon nga palangga
Sa CapSU System Tagdumala
Ako sa imo nagahingyo
Nga sa CapSU pabalikon ako
Sang yara ako diri sang una
Ginkay-o ko man ya akon pag-ubra
Bisan Underemployed ako
Ako masaligan niyo nga maestro
Sa pagtudlo may lisensiya
UP Graduate sa Tertiarya
Ang Masteral ko puro “Uno”
Yara tanan sa Transcript ko
Ako indi lamang pang-eskwela
Pwede man ako sa opisina
May Experience ako
Sa pribado kag publiko
Sa Munsipyo kag Kapitolyo nakaubra
Sa AO works may eksperiensiya
Ako indi lamang pang-maestro
Pwede man ako mangin AO
Kon hatagan mo ako sang tiyansa
Ini para guihapon sa inyo.
-10/30/2022
(Dumarao)
*My CapSU Comeback
underemployed now
so simultaneously
also unemployed
somewhat but not yet
also still not retired
like the sparrow, God
shall provide my needs
So simultaneously
encouraging me
like the sparrow, God
gives me shelter and provides
for me wait and see
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
My shoes are the strong silent type in that
they rarely throw fits about the weather
as flip-flops do nor demand tit-for-tat
consideration when worn together
with socks. It should come as little surprise
then that they’re white and grey, underemployed
running shoes, meaning long strolls at sunrise
are just what they sound like: footsteps devoid
the prerequisite urgency to shift
directions as deemed necessary by
either myself or my feet when adrift
through trance-like stables of the butterfly
where train engineers mimic the station
of glacier-laced shoe-string transformation.
Accepting aloneness, incomplete solitude, imperfect rest. The garden
wasted, pumpkin patch planted late, potatoes untasted left in ground.
A thousand email addresses, each unique represents a flame of
passion, compassion, desperation or depression. To understand, to know's
impossible. It is therefore only reasonable to observe the shadows
on the mountain, the actions of the dreamer which tell us something,
little, nothing of his dream. It's a simple secret shared,
longevity. The half breed John Russell says it right, the
date and place don't matter, dry desert or cold mountainside,
lush bottomland, soulless or hospitable, contagious hospital.
The best laugh's death's, a perfect escape, perfect error, perfect
rest. Their solicitude's unnecessary, grief is temporary, life goes on,
you go under, underemployed, the undertaker's never unemployed.
Forensics prove an ovary with two chambers, ovule adnate to the funicle.
Daddy's underemployed cain't pay all the BILLS
When it gets so hard U see y people STEAL
Trust Me Bruh, I know how ya FEEL
Exhausted from runnin, trouble nippin at ya HEELZ
Brotha slow down, ain't u had ENUFF?
Put that bundle down, this ain't no BLUFF
Now u messed around & got ya new shoes SCUFFED
When they grabbed U & slammed U, into HANDCUFFS
Man itz tuff, yea I'll give u THAT
Sometimes muffed up as a matter of FACT
But U can't let the BS hold u BACK
Cuz sometimes it be just like THAT
Nobody said it would be easy, it wasn't BEFORE
My ancestors’ blood left open a DOOR
But that don't mean we won't struggle TOO
Who was that who said life's hard? Itz TRUE
So gather yo witts, strength & good WILL
We at war with them & ourselves fa REAL
Neva nonchalant cuz itz a big DEAL
Trust me Bruh, I know how U FEEL.
Keep ya head Up
Written & copyrighted by Tone Jaxson
Could anyone think this uneducated?
and undereducated mass of unemployed
or underemployed, aged humanity,
should, could or would,
be able to rightly determine anyone’s fate?
What farce, this democratic process?
this capitalistic rigmarole;
Serving, in the end, to do little more
than place another Mc’D’s burger,
on the table of a fat civil servant.
This system of blind, weighted, judgment,
assured anything BUT justice.
Assured, as it always has, and always will;
only peons remaining peons;
busily buzzing about their self-important tasks
paid, unpaid and pissed on.
Aiding the true criminals, the ones;
perpetuating poverty, homelessness,
illness, and ignorance;
in remaining in power.
The Jury was called.
The clocked marked the passing of the hour
with black hands on a white face
and all that was truly seen was gray.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.