I dream of my computer systems. The programs I use at work whir and zip thru my brain as I sleep. Turning my synapses into circuits. Hard wiring me into the system. Am I being upgraded with new software? Part of the system to do my job while I sleep. So I'm part of a never ending 24 hour system. Online 247 taking orders and working away. An unending task to make my fat cat boss rich. Even in my dreams I process customer orders and watch the profits go up up up. I only see a penny of this in my minimum wage job. Thank my Pagan Goddess it's a dream. I'm gonna quit my job, trash my computer and live on a mountain...

OLD



Take the lid off the old wooden box and peer inside, what is there? What do you see? An old bullet from the Korean war, a discoloured gemstone from a broken lover’s necklace.

A curling yellow photo of lost teenage friends, now no more, one lost to drugs.

Some ancient coin from a faraway land, unreadable language.

Now put back the lid and pause for thought. If you were to have a keepsake,

what would it be?

Snapping Dragon
I guess my wife is my family
I do love her or I’m a fool
Five years of my life
Here with her
We are family
Even if we fight like ****
And she shot me in my ****
Coz I kissed her awesome pet dog

old soul

good you understand

not many do

some are judgemental

yes its possible

to have too much

of a good thing

living on a mountain than hikes

we are all old souls

some just dont realize

Brian worked on 2 very different education accounts
One was UK based with 6 main call drivers
3 of these had sub topics of varied concerns
He took calls off teachers needing help
He was trained on all 6 main concerns
But only took calls on 3 of them
47% of the reps resigned    
The other account was very different
Like comparing a bicycle to a truck
It was a very hard US account
He listened to the customer
Then clicked an onscreen prompt
And a computer voice spoke aloud!
People asked about courses
It was all fine education improved lives
Plus Brian persevered in hard accounts
Maybe one day he’ll go back
To do the other 3 concerns
Or a different school account

SCOTLAND



Scotland, beautiful land, land of the sky, clouds

hugging your mountains, mist in the glens.

Deep black lochs full of mystery and monsters,

age-old secrets for very few to find.

Everyone can see the beauty of this land,

next to England but a million miles away.

Once we were enemies but now friends,

a country with so many moods and colours,

the sky, timeless in her gaze and her poise.

Snow covered mountains, ever so high.

Sheltered coastline, hidden bays full of promise

and the essence of mystery, maybe a mermaid,

Scottish maiden…

I was lucky to meet Lori in 2003, our brief time together

showed me another world.

Deep mystical Scotland, England’s neighbour,

a world in itself.

What to write? That I miss Ronnie Raygun and his Star Wars dreams? Beating the Soviets at their own game? Out weaponeering them so their economy collapsed? Doing it all again? Defeating the Evil Empire who want to rule us all, twice.
Let's support the USA and stand up to tyranny. We are the good guys, the flag bearers of freedom. Each F-15 and 16 is our protector. The sound of freedom. Bought at great cost while millions of Americans starve and have no health care.
Each cruise missile equalling a cancer ward. But not as cool as a live one aimed at the big bad Soviets. Cold War dreams, thirty short years ago. We were like computers, programmed to believe.
U2 and Frankie sang about nuclear war. How close were we? Five to midnight? Murky unsettled dreams remembered, returning. Brush peace away and ready your missiles.

War
The soldier said to the bargirl: 'I hardly expect you to understand. We’re just following orders...' In the coming attack, thirty thousand died. The soldier was lost due to friendly fire. It was 1939...

Between fifty and seventy million perished in the coming war...

Follow That
The Fake God casts his spell
He holds the reps in his gaze
They know he has something
A certain type of quality
An ability to do things
To get results and sales
Nobody managed to emulate this
Not his lapdog with a higher position than chair
There’s something about the Fake God
He said his boss and another manager
All with backgrounds in sales
Had different energy are just different
That’s what two decades in sales does
How many of the reps will equal that?

The cat sat
On the mat
Kissing a bat
Kicking a rat
In the frat
Bending a slat
While getting fat
Wearing a hat
Getting a tat
Swatting a gnat
Starting the chat
You Looking at?
You spoilt brat!
Rat-at-atat!

Launch light flashing
Bombs on the way
Fire in the hole

Rockets heading down range
Anything that can be fired
And **** is sent to do the job

That of enemy eradication
The landscape is like the Moon
All vegetation ceases to exist

As does most of the soldiers
They are spread over the landscape
In ****** bits and pieces

They knew what they were
Signing up for before
To be blown to ******* bits

This is just one small hill
Remember the warriors
For they own this land

Steam in the Valley
See how the pretty valley stream sparkles
Little twinkling lights daylight angels
Everything natural about this beauty

An event after the rain
Sun illuminate
Magical properties

Take a walk on the bank soak it all up
No rush nor hurry just a pause
A moment just for you

Few know of this stream
You’d call it yours
But its nature’s wonder

As are the verdant trees
With succulent fruit
And ****** landscape of desires

Events Besides
We went to a place where hundreds died
Soldiers in a battle far from home
300 Japanese soldiers
100 American troops
And many more besides
Killed in many ways

Death by bullets
Death by bombs
Death by bayonet
Death by by blast
Death by by besides

The place was Storm King Mountain
The battle happened long ago
Are we the only ones to remember?

One Hundred Years
The war to end all wars ended exactly one hundred years ago
That war failed in its objective of making war and bloodletting obsolete
Just like the bow and arrow is now outdated war was meant to be
The renderings of battle and conflict consigned to the history books
When children ask their parents: WHAT WAS WAR?

The answer should have started thus: Well child...
But that scenario never happened because war is still with us
The old soldiers never grew old and their memory lives on
As their great grandchildren prime their guns and prepare for battle
Places like the Somme, Ypres, Verdun. Paschendale and Flanders are here

Inside the souls of the Tommie, the Poilu, the *** and more
Poppies commemorating the sacrifice and everlasting memory
Worn with pride by people like myself and my kin and my friends and family
Yet in places like Afghan and Syria and Iraq and Ukraine men fight and die
Death and destruction still rule the battlefield by blast and bullet

Weapons have advanced like smart bombs, jet fighters and missiles
Being a millennia on from biplanes, barbed wire and horses
Each soldier and each fight is mirrored thru history by another
Wars and battles complement one another in their ferocity and aim
Enemies must be defeated and military objectives achieved

Only the year and location changes while the soldier’s names fade away
To become unknown soldiers in our collective hearts and minds
Passing over before their time and entering the history books
Some are a footnote, others in heroic battles and a few forsaken
Every generation since the Great War owes it to the past to make peace

And keep hold of that peace forever more and spike the guns and grenades
So our world knows peace and harmony in an eternal Peace Dividend
The Military Industrial Complex being used for something better
Future warriors being out of work and doing new jobs
Think of the past and that awful Great War and what we can do now

Turn our world around and remember the sacrifice and cost of Total industrial war
Let no more warriors die in no more wars except in books, games and films
Remember our great fallen warriors and be humbly grateful and act their deed
Universally advancing world peace and making war obsolete forever

You’re a girl like no other ’cause of what you are.
It’s not your fault that you got scared,
cry at night or get so lonely in a crowd.
Every day you ask the same two questions:
Why me? And when will they come for me?
You get flashbacks of blinding pain and flashing strobe lights.
So when the aliens abduct you and you feel it before it happens, you wish for death.
Can no one see the alien ship as you float through your roof up to it?
No one believes you when you say you’re an abductee –
aliens don’t exist, they say – they’re just in our minds.

MAN DOWN

“You silly stupid boy, I told you to be careful!”
She weeps as she mourns her fiancés loss.
“You couldn’t be trusted to cross the road!”
He was only a boy, gone down in the channel.
**** this ****** war, a girl mourns her love,
a Wellington pilot defending his love, his land.
As she cries mournful tears, her two friends console her,
she becomes strong and shouts:
“When you have it, something meaningful,
even for a minute, don’t let it go, fight for it!”
Then she crumbles, breaks apart in grief,
inconsolable, pain like she never knew –
for this is England, we stand alone –
his loss was for all of us.
Her friends suffer her tears and wish her well,
for she has changed, grown old at her moment of loss.

nick armbrister

ADULT OVER 18 THEME. BE WARNED.

Phone Me Now Now

A guy called up a customer order line and talked to a gal agent:

“Its for my step sister she needs a dress.”

“What type?”

“Long, short, slutty. Yes, slutty.”

“Are you wearing underwear?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Well, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“What type?”

“A red thong. Back to the dress. What type?”

“Bare shoulders and short skirt.”

“Yes, that one. In blue.”

“Ok then.”

“Oh babe, I’m coming. It feels so good!”

“How dare you! How f*cking dare you! This is all recorded.”

“I’m off now. Send the recording to your boss baby. I love you.”

There was the sound of a gunshot, the agent screamed and call ended.

Pagan Hymn
Hand in hand we walk across                                                           ­                                   
Mother Nature’s land for we are all                                                              ­                  
Pagan brothers and sisters,                                                         ­                                         
lovers and friends.                                                         ­                                                             
We bare each other no malice and go forward                                                          ­              
with peace in our hearts and                                                              ­                
unconditional love in our hearts.

Events and Time

I guess my feelings don’t really matter, that I don’t need anyone by my side when I’m down or upset or depressed. Don’t you know I’m just like anyone else? Though I’m different I’m just the same inside don’t you see? Do you know how hard it is to live alone and not have anyone to care for you? And when I meet someone who I thought was special, to let her in and trust her and slowly show her my world, bit by awkward bit.

Like when I met Anya in the pub we got on so well, she wore the same religious symbol as me, a pentagram, carried the same ink on her skin, tattoos and likes the same music, alternative. We had two weeks of fun, ending my 13months of being alone. Too fast she said, Nick, you’re moving way too fast, now it’s over. In the gulf of her silence I was so affected but I knew the truth.

When I heard the gunshots and saw a man dying I wanted Anya to be there for me, I was alone. Saw evil on my own streets, not wanting to be there and a witness to such random horrific events. Silly little boys armed with 9mm pistols thinking they’re something selling drugs and being in gangs, will they ever learn? They should have heard the widow’s screams. Oh that would teach them.

My life will move on, very different now. Anya taught me to not let anyone in though I’m still her friend and don’t hate her. After seeing the ****** I promised never to hate again or to carry a weapon, not even defensive. Sometimes events happen and come together, that week for me was like no other. It was all an awful fairytale with wicked people and tragedy beyond belief. And still I wrote and did my open mic readings; life must go on even in darkness, an illusion smoke and mirrors.

Still I ask who will be there for me when silent screams wake me in the deep of night. Will I forget what I saw? Will anyone ever find me, my soulmate does she exist??

My dreams are there but I can't remember them. They're fragmented like my life. In bits and pieces all in random order. A good job I can't remember them. How to make sense of this? Do I ignore it or try to work it out? Making sense when there is none. What would I think and feel if I could just put one dream in order? Would I be more complete or less? My head is a strange place at the best of times. Right now things are everywhere. Especially my dreams. Step into my head to see...

I feel the King of my world
Alone as on a glacier
With only Nature as my friend
The rest of them ignore me
For this is what they do
When one is different
And a King all powerful
It’s fine though I ignore them

Vexations
Tell the boss how you really ******* feel
His job totally ****** ***** and he does as a boss
Blame him for you having no sales!
As he’s in charge and talks to the client
Who sends over new leads you call
Give me some good leads and you’ll get sales
Simple as that give me old **** leads
What do you expect me to get nothing?
Why I feel frustrated and *******!
Unlike the clicky bosses who click along
And most of the other reps with a sale each
Give me a sale and I’ll feel a bit better
If the right offer comes up see you later

music got me thru my darkest days
bands who i still adore even now
coz this is a rock n roll love

their songs became the soundtrack
to my life in the bad, mad and sad times
doing what i did and living life

getting the wrong girls pregnant
street racing cars and crashing them
fighting opponents i could never defeat

being at war with everything in life
drinking and drinking like it was forever
i went to the gigs and bought the t-shirts

all about eve, voice of the beehive, the bangles,
def leppard, guns n roses, metallica,
the mission, the cult, suzanne vega,

tanita tikaram, del amitri, aztec camera,
alisha’s attic, sunscreem and a thousand more
they are the reason i’m alive today...

the hills look so serene/i wanna be there/feel the wind in my hair/hill fog on my face/be one with mother nature/this is freedom/even when not here/except in our minds/the hills save us/from ourselves and time/we exist eternal

I always needed something to rebel against
From my school peers who I ******* hated
To my overly dominant mother who was the boss

And the neighbours who were stuffy ******
The controlling school rules I loathed so much

I was always had to rebel against something
It was me against the world and still is?
What amazes me is I made it thru

Physically in one piece but inside...
There was a little bit of chop along the way

But I escaped the crap of life
That ensnared many of my fellow teens
Was this because certain family rules ruled me?

“If that poem idea is in your head NOW, write it down. Right now. Or lose it. For when it's gone, it's gone forever...”
― Nick Armbrister

HEARTBREAK
Young French woman is very pregnant and about to give birth to a baby. She lives in a remote area so the air ambulance helicopter is called, a state of the art Eurocopter with a highly trained crew. Modern helicopter and trained crew, they know what they’re doing. Pick up the girl to take her to hospital, arrive in style in a cool chopper. Time moves on exceedingly fast, medic aboard the Eurocopter tends the girl. She’s soon plus one when she gives birth to a baby. That bit is over. Young mum did her bit, now the pilot must fly them safely to hospital so all can be well. It’s not to be, helicopter flies through a snow blizzard. Something isn’t right, should they be allowed to fly in atrocious weather? Is it an all weather helicopter with a crew trained to fly in the snow? Was it at night? They baby graced God’s earth for two minutes, bringing the mother happiness. Then the helicopter flew into an Alpine mountainside killing all aboard. What an unreal heartbreaking story. I read about this in the Attrition Section in Air Forces Monthly magazine. I’m still incredulous and sad that this ever happened. A smashed helicopter with dead flight crew and dead family who never had the chance to see any of life’s potential in any way. I wonder what God thinks about this? Never mind the grieving father. Think of what could have been?

Sacred Dream
You can’t steal my dream.                                                           ­                                                     

You can take everything I’ve got but not my dream.                                                           ­                         
It belongs to me.                                                              ­                                                              My path is my dream.                                                           ­                                                       

You can't steal my dream.

Nick’s Inner Beauty
There’s more to me than my tattoos.
I’m the person inside;
I have views feelings, emotions, dreams and desires.
I’m not a piece of wood.
My inner beauty shines forth.
BUT
I wear my soul upon my skin.
See what bits you can spot.
Turn me inside out.
I’m a bare white light of energy.
My inner being is free.
My love of a certain band =
a certain tattoo of them.

The mother dodged most of it; some connected and singed her hair. A shriek was the reply. As was a return spell. The air glowed red and shimmered. Mother Goddess didn't wait to see if her spell had worked, she sent a second and then third. Different ones to shatter Elleswyth's body and then freeze the bits. But the witch was both faster and younger than the Mother Goddess; both spells missed by millimetres. The witch jumped twice her height and spun in mid-air. And fired another spell. This hit home, flooring the Goddess. She fell to the floor, held in place by invisible singing energy. Gaiana was a prisoner now, the first time ever in her infinite eternal life. Her eyes glowed orange, then azure and finally, white. "Free me now! Do it and I'll let you live."

Cernunnos was earthbound and in hiding. His mother could defeat his protégé; he was tired and needed to rest. And plan Elleswyth's downfall. He muttered under his breath, "This creation of mine has gotten out of hand. I've gone too far. It must end now. If my mother fails..."

Gaiana did fail. She lay dying in a pool of blood. Elleswyth spat on the almost dead Goddess and stomped past to the edge of the sky world. Then she launched herself into space. "Here I come Cernunnos. Revenge will be mine, again."
She felt herself hurtle down, falling through the chill of the upper sky, her skin fading to white as the cold bit into her limbs and goose bumps ran across her bare skin. The blue planet fast approached and she wind milled her arms to slow her descent. The planet shuddered as a shock wave circled the hemispheres when she broke through the atmosphere and landed gently feet first on the yellow sands bordering the furious seas. She looked around her. She had not been followed. Elleswyth glanced at her tattered bloodstained clothing and grinned. She whispered to the white waves, immediately they gentled and she slipped off her tunic and slipped naked into the heated waters.

Peace Future Peace
I live in a world where you ****** me over
Stole my wife who was a **** mover
Worst of all you shot my dog
Burnt my car out even if it was junk
You tattooed my name on your head
And stalked me over six US states
But I am smarter than you
For I exist in your head
And live in plain site
Defeat me?
I win…

I see you you've come back to see me
You all in black trouser suit
With a bit if lipstick not needed

You're slim and medium height with tied back hair
We get on well you tell me how you feel

I say I've done a poem for you
I fumble in my book to find it
So many messy pieces here

Where is it?

I was just working on the bit where we need ***
Yet me being tired got in the way
You tell me things and do so now
That you are ***** and want me

I know your long workday will vanish
What we should do now is ***** hard like strangers
For we still are arnt we?

Me the mess, the messy writer, you the normal gal
I see you before me as I did the last 3 Saturdays
We will go now to be together
I am grateful you are here

Please know that and I do love you

I who can't even organize my poem book
I need a new journal I'll steal one from work
Come my dear you look lovely in my dream
Whisper me your name dream lady

I love you please don't vanish

I know you're real in my dream and head
But different here in my words
For I forget things but not how I feel
I'm sorry you've been hurt before

I like it when you smile...

49…
He went by bus to see the football game. The bus was a Fiat just like his one off Fiat Panda2002. He sat there and read his book in the bar room. All the trophies were on display and the home team was there. He ignored them but they didn't him. Giving him a load of lads stuff. He observed them and joined them. It became confused. He was escaping his hometown. They tolerated him. He loved his car. He had to hide in the garden from the bus driver. Go by car! Then back in the football room he had a run in with the **** driver. It was later and confused. He hit the driver with his car bus tank machine to silence him or was it a biplane? Just be ******* quiet! Drive by Fiat Panda next time to see the Scots top teams. For I am cool and my dream rocks...

OUT OVER THE FIELDS



Out over the fields a pair of crows circle and dive amongst the hedgerows and green grass.

A watery sun casts its watery face through the spring clouds as the birds disappear from view.

Eighty years ago it was a similar story as two manmade hawks of the air battle to the death; the fields aren’t green but a shell-holed hell with muddy trenches filled with wretched men.

Soon the burning Albatross smashes to earth, its pilot shot through the head – dead.

Back today the lost warplane still lies buried in a timeless image of death, as crows fly overhead, to freedom.

Lifely
Here we go stroke the dog.
Kiss the girl, slowly and sensually.
Drive the car, avoid the cops.
Drink the beer and then some more.
Avoid drugs and mouthy idiots.
Fight like a king only when cornered.
Defend the right to live your life.
Be one step past happiness and remember.
Remember your parents, make them proud.

For How Long?
It is what it is so they both say
They came together more than once
How long this will be both can

Or cannot say for they fight
He can immediately block her
She can do this to him
Check mate here nobody wins

Why should it be a fight?
She pushes him to his limits
Seems to enjoy it while he

Would rather be grinding her
Using her wicked moods
For something he benefits from
Like in the barracks block

When the office has gone
Then she is tamed not mad
Till the next time next fight
For how long a day week month?

All on your back in life and death
Weight of the world on your bare back
Carrying a nuclear backpack for Cuban Soviet missiles
Darling lady riding your back in the dawn surf
Tiger clawing your back as you flee the jungle
Car engine weighing you down back style new parts
Bust your back bend your knees picking up your cat
Bergen on your back as you hike the Eigar North face
Weight of dead souls pushing you back down
Rugby playing popped your spine like piano keys
Take care of your back or its chair time

Soviet Jet
Soviets are like mosquitoes
Always there in the environment
There’s no escape from them
They get in your head

So they rule you remorsessly
By power of paranoia
A bite is a bullet
An infection is a bomb

A disease is a nuclear blast
Mosquitoes are Russians
Russians are mosquitoes
Waiting to be eradicated

By a superior power
Always ready for war
Endless circle of deceit
Mosquito flight round you

Looking for an opening
To attack you
While you sleep
The Russian way

Keep you off guard
Then get you
But not if we strike
And drain their pond

Spray them with insecticide
So they never breed again
No more Novichok
Or nukes or bio weapons

Finally we are safe
Except from our own
******* PARANOIA!!!

The girl was very nice
She had a little daughter
And was married

But that was fine
She was open minded
And liked other guys

And some gals too
I knew she liked me
No introductions were needed

We got together inside the hangars
By the sleeping planes
We did a different type of sleeping

Taking our time for it mattered
Our love was there without words
Leaving only memories known to us

I’ll keep her name secret
And just exactly what we did
But know this and know it well

She made my journey easier
For if I never came back
At least she would remember me

And always love me
Even if she belonged to another
He did not even figure

In what we did or were
We kissed before I climbed the ladder
Of my Lockheed P-38 Lightning

She was there to see me off
When I arrived in theatre
I’d name my plane after her

If I died in foreign skies
I now had a real reason
Other than for ‘freedom’...

Superbly Pretty
Pretty dance of laser fire
Multi coloured megawatt beams
Frying all they touch
Superbly pretty yet evil
Beyond Hell the capability
Fired from orbiting spaceships

Close to a planet
Or a galaxy away
Up close is good
See the results
The planet melts
People are gas
It's over fast

Got fired from my call centre job for failing the exam. Took it while doing the night shift. First I've ever done graveyard. Can't say I like it. In fact, I ****** hate night work. Unless it's in a goth club, drinking beer or grinding.

Gonna get a new job. Jimmy Boom Semtex needs beer and tattoo cash. Give him a job and let him learn. Short term memory aside, he'll do his best. Make you laugh and roll your eyes. Jimmy Boom Semtex is here!

Gotta wait 3 months for my wages. That's ok. I'll buy 120 bottles of beer at Xmas and drink myself unconscious while reciting mad poetry. Red Horse or Colt 45? More beer is needed. Paid for by Jimmy's next job. Night shift? You bet!

I meant to do something else
Instead of turning my life to ****
Destroying myself by my teenage moods
I left the Air Cadets in late summer 88

I went crazy in my own head
Something went pop and I cracked
And never recovered not 3 decades on
I should've been an Air Force brat

Today I saw the local cops muster
Their Captain paraded them
Any issues would be raised
For we are in a national lock down here
This **** ******* virus ruining the world
I remember ruining my teen years

By leaving the cadets and not joining up
My dad said I refused to go
He was right in that regards
Why did my head go bang in 88?

Things only got worse after that
Two very bad years but I recovered
I am who I am now but
Not who I could've been
An Air Force brat...

Idly thinking I wonder where we will be in the future,                                                      
will we ever reach the stars after the death of our own world,                                                
killed by pollution, war and overcrowding?                                                    ­                                  
Will we do as in Rome, on a new planet?
If we survive that far.                                        
Our path is tough.
Some actions we do are abysmal, look at how we treat one another.
We do need to learn to talk and not shoot first.                                                           ­       
Yet there is hope, when we look up at the cosmos over our heads,                                                    
we can only wonder at its size and our tiny existence,
we are not arrogant then.                                                            ­                                                                 ­     
Brought down to earth, we know we have a chance, just one to get it right.                                    
If god were to judge us, what would he think?                                                           ­   
Agree or disagree with the way we do things?

bad tl
a certain team leader/was obsessed with cash/bumping up his metric/any which was he could/legal or borderline illegal/the tales of his was known/he did it in six centres/greed and metric manipulation/not a good example of a good sup/when you meet this snake/watch him closely/he has no conscience/is good at his job/manipulating people and the system/see the car he drives/wears different trainers each day/i'd rather have nothing/than be like him

read top to bottom 1st line letters

High up where the ground meets the sky
Is a place that is so wonderful and serene!
Life fell to Earth bringing such scenery
Lovely like you would never know
This hilltop is the only place to be
Or would you rather be in the polluted city?
Percolating fumes slowly suffocating you

Wow Times
Falling between the lines.
For what reason?
Sunshine and existence.
Star power is energising us.
All the way across the galaxy.
We're star children whether we like it or not.
Created by Mother Nature.
Possessing intelligence and energy.
Now no longer physical but luminous.
Our light is out there amongst the darkness.
Light energy contrasting with dark energy.
A black hole stole our bodies and our craft.
It may keep them for we have evolved.
----
Plaintiff...
Sounding melodic when I'm sad,
tremendous aura of jealous, odd,
akin to the path for the unwanted one.
A world where all promises are done.
Thoughtful wonders and wanders,
mending all the broken feathers,
sowing its own chaos faults,
dragging a self out of fools.
No strings attached no relationship,
no nothing but we're friends
with benefits but no feelings.
Boundless commitment, imposing.

Stop Fate
The agents go to work
The OM sends them home
90 minutes before EOD
The account is in the red
I know you all understand
Check your messages later
Your TL will advise you
If there is work this week
The reps are quiet
It wasn’t meant to be so bad
Some have been reassigned
To different accounts
They count down the days
Others want to save the account
By getting many more sales
You cannot stop fate

Dial dial lost in time
Call up all the lost sailors
On their sunken ship
Give Earhart a call
Way out past the atoll
Contact the ghosts
From all the wars
Contact all the evil dictators
And ask them this:
Were all their ****** wars worth it?
The financial cost, the blood and destruction
But we cannot call them
For the dead remain dead
And new wars erupt
By generals and leaders
Who want their golden glory
Five minutes of fame
And a new war
And a new battle
And a thousand new deaths
Call them and ask them:
Why?

Not Hopping
Some trainers in the BPO industry
Have worked in 20 or 30 different places
Brian met 2 or more such trainers
Both had worked in dozens of centres
Between a month’s training and years
Finally settling down to train others
Being hoppers no more job to job
Instilling their skills info knowledge
With wisdom guidance mind set
It takes skill to be a trainer
And something else to excel
Getting the next generation ready
Reps support trainers OMs

In the town they built pubs and bars and clubs
Before they built the houses to cater for the needs
Of the nutcases and hard men and their gals
Who inhabited the place for they were all thirsty
And needed a drink or ten before the next fight
Or before going off to work in the mills
Or digging the canals or making train tracks
They were a bunch of hard bar stewards
Who you never ever messed with unless
You were one of them and of equal hardness
Cut form the same cloth and millstone grit
Quite unlike any other men in any other town
Simply the hardest and least girly of any men
They proudly lived in Bar Steward Town
And wrote the history books on being hard
Do you dare face them?