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Bryce Oct 2019
Why do we call it a "Performance Review"
When we aren't putting on a show

Why do we call it "talent acquisition"
When nature didn't gift us to them

Why do we call it "workplace culture"
When it's an artifice of art

Why do we call ourselves "employed"
When it's for anybody but the will of God

Why are we stuck in this
Why are we cursed to "field operations"
Why are we lost in "development cycles"
Why are we living for "benefits packages"

Why don't we curse the steel stakes?
Why don't me make our own?
Why get lost in knowing quarterly reports
When there's autumn leaves, spring trees,
summer heat and winter's snow?

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Where your presence is given overtime
Instead give your presence over time
To the love of the one
Who built gardens for us
And will gift us away from the pain of this world
Don't trust any who say it can be here
Don't trust those who say paradise is a product
When we are the product of paradise.
La ménagerie à neuf vies
Flotte  dans la nuit bâtarde
Zébrée  de miaulements d'étoiles de gouttière.

C'est une nuit malotrue
Aux cent vingt-trois nuances de vert de gris
Qui tire sa langue subjonctive et indicative
Comme une révérence au vent voyou
Quand il a trop plu
Qu'elle est mouillée et que la lune Happée par la crème lumineuse
De son gardien de la paix
Lui accorde sa ration de danse ronronnante :
Ses vingt minutes réglementaires de visite cadencée.
Brandon Conway Jul 2018
A city is nothing but a menagerie
caging different shades of insanity
dusty streets, concrete tombs, lingerie
costumes shooting up profanity

Here I stand
no shade of dignity
*** of cash in hand
shaded with apathy

Things I do with these creatures
in the concealing night
a spoon and a woman, double feature
finished and feeling contrite

Cross the bridge to leave the zoo
back to my normal life
conscience I must subdue
while I lay down next to my wife

I am sorry
I just miss the thrill
I am sorry
I just miss the feel
I am sorry
I just miss the comforts of the landfill
and the parroting comatose safaris
Jessie Schwartz Feb 2018
Menagerie…by Jessie 6/06

Too many days are all the same
The will has left, the inert pendulum silent, no longer marking time  
Glass menagerie collecting dust
A ghost town of frail figurines
Lifeless the sheen, pail from coatings of yesterday
Not even the trace of a fingerprint to announce interest
Tawas a time, excitement from the prospect of a new-collected piece, while much deliberation was given to its placement
Diligently, maintenance provided, dusted and polished
Imagination carrying fantasies of amusing situations and images  
Laughter recounted when viewed by innocent eyes
Now the foundations mirrors will not reflect what was or what is
Each days accumulation, another layer, each layer a little duller
Soon the only connection, a web, thin and translucent, linking one to the other
Paralyzed fragile pieces of glass, drowning in a sea of negligence
Your name whispered into a box of mementoes
Awaiting for renewed curiosity of another generation
Innocent Tata Oct 2017
I'd like to talk about curves
Twist and turns
Dented surfaces

Or talk about God
Childish wishes
Open caskets
Broken promises
Surfing on Universal energies
Deciphering the Poems in the music

I'd like to visit Paris
Everglades sawn grass Prairie
With my palms caressing softly

I need a mental picture of paradise
A motivational quote before bed at night
These nightmares stressing for a fight

I'd like to talk with my dad again
I need a map of manhood
I think I might be doing it wrong
......Or just tell him that I'm a proud son

I want to dance
Waltzing around things I value
With black leather dress shoes
Courting yellows from blues

Using old memories as punching bag
Thinking about that kid who wasn't punching back
Curved spine with a heavy backpack

I want to be here now
No captions, just sounds
.....and curves
Liam C Calhoun Jan 2016
Spite contorted smiles
And lips
Drenched in green
Sought the satins that never
Satisfy – Sheets, fallen,
Wings, blistered,
And holes burnt through the
Bottoms of shoes.

So I pace myself parallel
The corner of one left
Eye, peripheral and
Gazing to the
I now partake;
An answer to
Her dance with
Impending desire.

Me, being the reluctant,
Me, being the timid, the torrent
And soon to blow over.

I know I’ll leave,
She didn’t,
And more importantly,
I know she’d find home,
Discovered, empty
With little more than
Lint in pocket, abandoned,
Just one lonely shiver
And looking for warm.

So if my cold hadn’t taken over
Not quite yet,
I’d give her a
It’s the best I can do,
It’s all I can do,
But at least it’s
Something I can do.
I remember her name, it was "Charlotte," not quite fitting for a web that failed. Published as "Charlotte" in "Down in the Dirt" magazine.
Sally A Bayan Jan 2015
(haiku x 5)

Sharp teeth of winter
Punctured flesh, body, and soul,
Statues squeezed amongst

Cold doves, deer...standing
In an iced menagerie,
Crystalled, unmoving.

Eyes, mind.....blazed, like sun,
Thawing stilled life...frozen love,
Til pulse IS revived,

Til warm mem'ries roll
Til warm blood, through my veins flow
Til warm teardrops.....fall.

And I...must now leave.
This stolid, indiff'rent stage,
I can stand no more.


Copyright 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***i know i must leave,
     there is sun, life breathes outside,
     i'll live on...***
The Clinchfield line flows from the mines -  and through the mountains of East Tennessee.
Wher menageries go to provide such a show - the likes of those we'd never  see.

The first glimpse of these beasts that came from the east - and such places where we'll never live.
They rolled in on the back and were pulled up the track - by the huge steel Loco-motive.

With this rolling stock that would bring such a shock - to the bustling boom town of Erwin.
All sorts of creatures where brought here to feature - where paying guests could get set to determine.

A lumbering cow was this company's wow - this Circus did owe its success.
But this pachyderm act would in time distract - and end up in a most awful mess.

Mary we can claim was this elephants name - and the boast is “the biggest in size.”  
For she sure was a hulk and endowed with such bulk - that I wouldn't be very surprised.

Too earn a few bob, Eldridge, new to the job – now the handler of this pachyderm.
This man was a fool and it seems, very cruel - as it said, he was overly firm.

He was void of the skill but enthused by the thrill - with a very go-for-broke view.
This creature he'd ***** with a great big stick – giving Mary a bad how-to-do.

He had picked the wrong day to cause this affray – as he jabbed with the long piece of wood.
Whilst he was being so rough he hit an absessed tooth – and believe me this figured no good.

With one painful bellow her trunk hit this fellow – throwing Red Eldridge around.
And such was her tread when she trod on his head – she crushed it right into the ground.

Bullets rang out and there was no doubt – they hadn't had any effect.
As before the crowd she still trumpeted loud – while the masses, revenge did select.

**** the elephant, **** the elephant – was the song that the crowds chose to sing.
Each and every man came up with the plan – they wanted poor Mary to swing.

The lynching was set and a huge crane was met – for Mary was five tons in weight.
Out in front of the crowds with them screaming out loud – her future was not looking great.

They secured her leg by a chain to a peg – whilst around her neck they placed a chain.
And whilst reeling it in it dug into the skin – as they lifted her up with the crane.

Back on the ground they heard such a sound – as Mary's big bones they did crack.
Then somebody said the chains still on her leg – and the elephant to earth did come back.

The effect of this trip broke the pachyderms hip – causing her incredible pain.
And with such neglect they then did reconnect – and they lifted the creature once again.

The crowds they did roar as Mary did soar – a day out it has to be said.
With laughter and glee for the whole family – this monster now hanging quite dead.

The elephant gone but the party went on – as this beauty did hang for this shower.
The boom town of Erwin all acted like vermin – and left her for almost an hour.

Buried in the ground she can not now be found – as many here try to forget.
To look in this face we see only disgrace – and forever this stone will be set.
6th November 2014

The town that hanged an elephant: A chilling photo and a macabre story of ****** and revenge
Charlie Sparks's travelling circus visited Kingsport, Tennessee, in 1916
An inexperienced keeper was put in charge of elephant called Mary
During a parade he goaded her with a spear, and hit an abscess
In pain, she dashed him against the ground and stood on his head
When residents began baying for blood, Charlie Sparks agreed to **** her

'Murderous Mary' was hanged using a railway crane in nearby Erwin
The photo is horrific but can be viewed online. It shows how cruel humanity can truly be.

— The End —