#9to5
Lest locks look silver
Lest lips lose colour
At last I lead off life...
Alas! too late to live,
No loved ones left alive
Mind's a madhouse,
a maze most vile
Merciless Immortals
The gods up high
"Cruel, callous, capricious"
— laments the helpless lamb
Bereft of able body
Bereft of able mind
The Highest Hive Hireling,
Now a wasted withering wether
While wailing willfully awaited
The howling hellhounds to end it
Dec 19, 2022
Dec 19, 2022 at 12:57 PM UTC
(Cheritas)
1)
At 4am, serenity surrenders to the rooster.
Early risers snap from their slumber,
thinking, the world is on their shoulders.
Eyes close...thoughts for the day gather,
strength is renewed...mind gets sharper
while under the lukewarm shower.
:::::::
2)
Aromatic moments stir the cold sleepy air.
there's hot coffee, frittata and fried frankfurters,
day starts with good food, whatever the weather.
Between work and breaks, we count the hours
of an unpredictable day, til 9-5 pressure is over.
coffee, gardening or wine, undo the day's fetters.
:::::::
sally b
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 16, 2022
May 16, 2022 at 7:12 PM UTC
Men have had their bodies
and souls destroyed by machinery.
Hollow cogs and cold-blooded gears
grind through the better part of the day.
Relentless and unapologetic
Feeding on the dreams of a far away beach
A cabin upstate
or the delusion of retirement.
Dreams that slowly slip away
as your body deconstructs.
This is not a life to envy
Why do we endure
Is this what a dollar costs?
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 5:54 PM UTC
We clanked our wine glasses together
Suits for the occasion
And I tried to remember the names
Especially the ones who’s faces I recognize
One man in particular looks older than I remember, with a haircut far too young
Talking all about
The deal of the last year
Maybe a Christmas bonus this year
So he can go home to his wife
“Look honey we can buy another car”
And maybe this time she won’t sleep
With the neighbor
I shake his hand hard because the poor old b*stard needs something
And maybes its this extravagant event
guys like me shaking his hand firm enough
That he knows he’s important somewhere
And we are all impressed by his hard work and loyalty
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 3:44 AM UTC
Somewhere
in the middle of New York
a white-and-blue,
Pacific island:
...
sitting on itself,
prim and low
as if waiting for someone important, but
not wanting to seem so.
sitting on itself,
as if waiting for someone,
many boats go by
(no, not that one...)
(not that one, either...)
sitting on itself,
small and proper
proper and small...
**** is wet)
sitting on itself...
I wonder How long
has he been sitting there like that,
won't his
feet be cold?
**** be wet?
The lonely island...
he wishes someone would come and sit beside him
sit close but
not too close, as if
friends.
in the past few lives but,
not in this one (yet)
he wishes someone would come and sit beside him
quietly for a moment
then turn to him and say,
with sparkling Pacific angel eyes
turn to him and say,
"The world needs you, Steve."
And Steve would continue staring off into the distant, blue horizon where
there's not much, save for a
distant, blue horizon
...
but pigeons are not gulls,
gulls are not pigeons.
and the Hudson River
is 315 miles long.
"My name isn't Steve."
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
Nine to five and a sigh
Forsaken poesy goes to die.
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 2:31 PM UTC
I'm walking on my own
through my tunnel
Cars wait in line
impatient waves of bright lights
flash through the dark
Do you remember when it was just us
in the jungle?
A dark man asks for my ticket
I show him your picture and move on
Robots cower behind the steering wheel
Repeating one phrase forever
"We'll never get out of here
but you might
and that's the deal"
When a fire breaks out in my tunnel
I'll try and run right through
Ignore the burning
Shake the ashes off my arm.
In here, there's no sun or rain or snow
Just a numb grey glow
I don't want to look back to the past
but sometimes I might.
That's my tunnel
and you're my light.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
my mouth mechanically moves
wouldyoulikeabaghereisyourreceiptthankyousomuchforcominginhaveaniceday
i wonder how many times i have said the same sentence in the last half hour
as those recycled, rearranged letters
squeak, tired, from the middle of my throat
a laugh, fake, tense, comes from my nose
as i feel what little soul there was in me to begin with
die
this can't be it
this can't be all there is
the helpless thoughts slide sluggishly by
what is the point of surviving so much
when this is all i have to look forward to?
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC
My summers spent idle:
Pool by day, Netflix by night
But I crawl into bed at 9
That's not right.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
I left her room for improvement, but then she occupied it with other people's shoes as if any of them could ever suit her. The company she keeps wage minimally. They place their bets where she places her rest. I placed my bet where she places her plate. She knows exactly what I brought to the table, but yet she is in bed with them? Business partners she says? Well then that's just bad company and this is precisely why...
I left...
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC