Routinely, like clockwork, like every morning,
I walk to my drive way and enter my pickup.
I start the engine and turn on the radio.
Immediately, horrific and unbelievable news.
I head off to work, not knowing what to expect.
I stare across the airfield of an airforce base.
Not the least surprised, airplanes are grounded.
I arrive at work in wonderment.
Our work highly depends on airplanes.
Today is a none typical 911 work day.
We are instructed to perform our normal
duties of pickups and deliveries, except,
'Do not take cargo to airport but report to
The yard at end of route'.
While you sleep,
we are the tide coming in to smooth the sand,
leaving the beach perfect for morning.
We are like birds building nests in the dark
gathering, arranging, making ready what you'll need at dawn.
The janitor's mop is a paintbrush erasing the day's scuffs, stroke by stroke.
The baker's hands fold dough like sheets on an empty bed,
tucking in tomorrow's warmth.
The nurse holds vigil like a candle that burns all night so others can rest.
You wake to a table already set,
a fire already lit, a path already cleared
not knowing we walked it first in darkness,
our footprints disappearing behind us like snow melting at sunrise.
We are the moon's workers,
the dream's stagehands,
the ones who polish stars you'll never see falling.
At dawn, we slip away quiet as fog,
and you inherit morning clean as new paper,
forgetting that someone held the pen all night,
writing your day into being.
Red sun wake up from night's bed
Wash and lit up his bright head
When will he gets an off day?
Day in, day out he works dead.
Here catch a glimpse sure:
Office hours kills time;
KPI allure,
Profit for work chimes.
Work day nine to five:
Meetings and sales calls;
Business goals arrive,
Make money install.
See people play games:
Drive away panic;
Bitter taste of gall,
Office politics.
Cliques of same fancy:
Greedy feuds confront;
Bleed cotton candy,
Noisy back and front.
Be wary of lies:
Half truths play poker;
Good and ugly cries,
Wild card and joker.
Be truly aware:
Fake friends and fake takes;
Tumble fumbles cares,
Disturbia burns break.
Never a dull day:
Fight or flight claims fake;
Conflicts now frame sway,
Sly motives burn stake.
Leon Enriquez
17 September 2017
Singapore
I arose early with
the sound of Public radio(which I left on all night)
in my ears
got dressed
tried to
started to shave
but none of my razors were any good
Called car service
to get to work
I told him
to take me over to barber school
so I could
take a shave
$7 - a young Spanish woman gave me
a trim and a razor shave
with the towels!!
I was ready to go over and teach ESL!
Work Day Homecoming
Dogs lie sleeping,
Homecoming they wake
Barking, what’s for dinner?
Sitting at my desk.
Time is ticking slowly by.
Can I go home yet?
Bike to Work day: escorting the funeral of Marine Albrak Omar
Loch David Crane
Patriot Guard Riders
September 2009
No more classes now that I've been fired!
Patriotism is my job: I’m retired.
The Patriot Guard rides almost every day
to bring a flapping flag line on display.
We ride to work with combustion and chrome
to bring the bodies of our brave troops home.
In a strange twist for love of our country
This Arab Albrak was a volunteer
who gave America his youthful years
to make Iraqui people finally free.
He gave his life: I give my afternoon
remembering our heroes at high noon.
Packed in ice, he came home to his Mom;
his body was prepared by an Imam.
Resting in the dark,
soon to stir and waken
the yearnings of my heart
the walls are left still shaken
Dawn brings new life
and banishes the old
the day may yet bring more strife
May yet leave hope in the cold
Targets for the day
just another morning routine
Living according to pay
Just today; postponing the dream
The sun says it is noon
and the light does not tell lies
Shining over shadowed room
As peoples hands are tied
The day is over; Night is near
No pressure; time to live the life!
but my eyes grow sleepy here
So tired by the light
Tomorrow is another day
when ambition shall be met
For now alone I lay
So the cycle may reset
All day long we toil in a shop
which we clean from the bottom to the top,
Like bees in a colony or ants in a nest
Back and forth , all day long ,trying to do our best
We rise early and work our day away
serving others but never getting any rest
We waste our lives , in unremitting labor
Never knowing or caring what it has all been for
Senseless, useless, a waste of life’s precious drops
Getting into ruts , depressing and demeaning
Till we cant see the bottom or the top
Only then do we begin to realize that we are still alive
That life must have more meaning than nine to five
But give my regards to the mighty paycheck
This is what the world loves and respects
At the end of the day we drag ourselves to our beds
and wait again for morning to rise and do it all over again
Like clockwork we rise to our moment in the sun,
already bored and resigned to labor with no end
Except for the mighty dollar which we cherish and cling to
We must not take a break toiling in the sun all day long
Working as drones and controlled by anxious greedy men
We give them our all for the mighty paycheck
For this is what the world loves and expects
A cooling ev’ning eased the heat of day,
Too bright the sun that withers on the skin
Throughout the working day, no words can say
The pain of being stuck in work within.
To work all day when summer paints the sky,
Unkind it seems and never truly fair;
The promised cash that reasons justify,
Is no salvation to a greater care.
The working day will end but leave me cold,
In the silence of my old, empty room,
For she’s not there for me to love and hold,
As night begins to fall in dusky gloom.
Yet with the night I feel her presence near,
As whispered words softly caress my ear.
Form: English Sonnet
'...and then the lighting of the lamps.'
-T.S. Eliot
Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening
settles o'er the fields, the day is fading;
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster,
vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading.
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering
in candlelight, the cows are coming home;
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight,
the animals are safe, no need to roam.
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting
for the exertions of the day ahead;
farmers partake, extinguish their candles
to darkness, and then take themselves to bed
to pray for courage to endure their toil,
for days they spend in harness to the soil.
where is there hope when our
economy is declining so fast
we get 7.50 an hour
and 4 of that is for a gallon of gas
but we have to get to work so we must have it
and lord forbid if you have a bad habit
we spend 8 hours a day
working for minimal wage
and after taxes we tally our pay
about 54 dollars is all we made
and after a week's work you haven't made a cent
trying to put away a little something for light water and rent
putting in overtime hoping some bills to meet
not thinking of the fact that you have to eat
oh yea' the kids and spouse
and the few little things you must get for the house
you find for some reason things are just too hard
and you find yourself taking on a second job
now that's 8 hours a day working for dimes
another 4 hours working part time
12 hours of your life spent in torment
and before you can get paid most of it's spent
everyone in the house works kids and wife
yet it's still hard to live a decent life
now i ask is it just me who 's questioning why
there are people out there so well off and im struggling just to get by
I live the day to dream the night
As I dream the night to live the day
I work the day to rest the night
As I rest the night to work the day
I pay the day to gain the night
As I gain the night to pay the day
I give the day to earn the night
As I earn the night to give the day
Life is all about time
As time is all about day and night...
(c) 2011
I need twelve and ten
welcome to the world l cumminity land like i had a lond dream
and i dont know sweet then genesis media off the finish stoll
i be quoting nig all day long beg please loven of money not qurrel and member what to do to work another day colin no no no ready it is not please please I need drugs and snuff went through the night sleep the number count zek and inquistion anything oppressed? labs ton me drop drop?
I like my church oil
i woke up and laughing stay alive a wrath news chrsitna mute point!
this so be twelve friends balling somatic revolution my friends
the name of god perhaps two more quick tell us a story
perfection love work dont drink cis term just let me lay down
forn me lorn me sweet cool is myy ears darn.. and get naked non meditating wise excommunicated adonai plan reeds then flee from me cause you would go tell tell the whole hellis sweet Imish working world if you new mim.
then Miss. come from and will all in locus that i got to teach myself and everthing but this is twelve mox sex mor of it. all right pills the pills more mins and the other stuff yes!
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