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"bosses" poems
Another Day Another dollar That's what I get For, I'm blue collar Working hard For all the bosses Sitting upstairs In the office Grab a coffee On the way do the same stuff every day nothing changes It's routine That's the way It's always been I am just a working man Doing the best job that I can Nine to Five, or Eight to Four Do my eight and out  the door Loading trucks to hit the road Get 'em out with a full load Doing just the best I can I am just a working man Twenty minutes and two breaks That is all The time I take Sneak a smoke When I can This is the life Of a working man Old and rusted two tone truck Always busted Just my luck Working hard To make a dollar It's the lot of a blue collar I am just a working man Doing the best job that I can Nine to Five, or Eight to Four Do my eight and out  the door Loading trucks to hit the road Get 'em out with a full load Doing just the best I can I am just a working man
0
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
Working Man
Garments stripped from worn bones and weary mind Feet dragged on tile; hands grasp plastic veil Stepping into a tub; near swoon divine A pure, naked self emancipation, before the squeaking running metalware   that erases the daily equation. Dancing, singing tunes of own devices: Cupid, Shooting Star, Sister Golden Hair Rocky Mountain High, American Pie ****** bosses gonna kiss ***** here Astronauts, cowboys, and rockstars meet here Best yet, the individual is here Although merely hidden by a curtain, all for your view is but a damp shadow.
0
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
Sonnet to My Shower Curtain
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Suicide by Diversity
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
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57
Some win awards. Some win recognition. Then some barely recognized for their effort and time. Some hardly ever late. Some dedicated more than many bosses. Who take it upon themselves to take multiple vacation? The good employee that others measure themselves by. Rain,sleet or show , you're most likely see them at work. Some takes pride just in working to accomplish an agenda. They probably wouldn't strike even, if in a union. Some has came in present time to regret being a members. When they don't see any accomplishable gains from their leaders. Good employees, don't fake an excuse to miss work. Good employees, know all jobs depends upon a team. A mission is set to be met. Those that mainly complains has minor points. Which soon becomes a distraction in the level of work. Oh, good employees has complaints too. In reality, we all do to some degree. Except, good employees all companies need. They make the weakest link becomes a member of a strong team.
0
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
The Good Employee
Life gets better - so much better that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you but before that happens you’ll learn some lessons some of them will be fun others bitter medicine swallow them though they’ll make you strong don’t beat yourself up so much don’t put yourself down you are actually pretty awesome don’t obsess so much about being the best the less you do that the better you’ll become there is no such thing as “perfect” but you will be excellent you’ll be quite an overachiever – even when you don’t try! You already know what you want to do Not many 15 year olds have that kind of clarity! You’re a rare, unique one – you’ll do exactly what you dream to do. But there will be speed bumps You’ll lose your way sometimes and confused Gemini that you are- you’ll always want both sides of everything but you’ll figure that out eventually you will never be as thin as you want to be but you’ll learn to appreciate your body just as it is you’ll find you look beautiful when you smile you’ll have a job you hate, and one that you love you’ll do well in both- much to other people’s envy you’ll mostly have good bosses you’ll never have a boyfriend, your marriage will be arranged but you will find love-the love of a good man who will stand by you even when things go wrong he won’t at all be like the man of your dreams but he will be exactly what you need-he’ll make you happy! what I’m trying to tell you darling- is that in ten years all the stuff you’re worrying about won’t matter you’ll find new things to fuss over. High school will be a distant land That you would have left behind The bullies who trouble you now won’t be anywhere near you’ll see that its okay to be an introvert in an extraverted world you’ll make a handful of super-friends who you can trust and who care and many acquaintances who don’t mind your company but there will be some who you can’t trust some who will take advantage of your kindness ignore them and move on there is more important stuff to take care of! your writing will get better; you’ll be a super cook, you’ll never like sports-stop trying to its just not you! in a few years time you’ll be touching lives and changing them for the better you’ll be a teacher and a student all at once you’ll inspire and influence so don’t give up on life yet- don’t be so depressed wear a smile and face the world your life is going to be all set! - Vijayalakshmi Harish 08.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
0
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
What I would tell my 15 year old self
Life gets better - so much better that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you but before that happens you’ll learn some lessons some of them will be fun others bitter medicine swallow them though they’ll make you strong don’t beat yourself up so much don’t put yourself down you are actually pretty awesome don’t obsess so much about being the best the less you do that the better you’ll become there is no such thing as “perfect” but you will be excellent you’ll be quite an overachiever – even when you don’t try! You already know what you want to do Not many 15 year olds have that kind of clarity! You’re a rare, unique one – you’ll do exactly what you dream to do. But there will be speed bumps You’ll lose your way sometimes and confused Gemini that you are- you’ll always want both sides of everything but you’ll figure that out eventually you will never be as thin as you want to be but you’ll learn to appreciate your body just as it is you’ll find you look beautiful when you smile you’ll have a job you hate, and one that you love you’ll do well in both- much to other people’s envy you’ll mostly have good bosses you’ll never have a boyfriend, your marriage will be arranged but you will find love-the love of a good man who will stand by you even when things go wrong he won’t at all be like the man of your dreams but he will be exactly what you need-he’ll make you happy! what I’m trying to tell you darling- is that in ten years all the stuff you’re worrying about won’t matter you’ll find new things to fuss over. High school will be a distant land That you would have left behind The bullies who trouble you now won’t be anywhere near you’ll see that its okay to be an introvert in an extraverted world you’ll make a handful of super-friends who you can trust and who care and many acquaintances who don’t mind your company but there will be some who you can’t trust some who will take advantage of your kindness ignore them and move on there is more important stuff to take care of! your writing will get better; you’ll be a super cook, you’ll never like sports-stop trying to its just not you! in a few years time you’ll be touching lives and changing them for the better you’ll be a teacher and a student all at once you’ll inspire and influence so don’t give up on life yet- don’t be so depressed wear a smile and face the world your life is going to be all set! - Vijayalakshmi Harish 08.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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69
QUESTION. Poverty! Do you think that this should be a global urgency? Selfworth as Commodity! Do you think that this should be a human priority? Try telling one billion children living in extreme poverty, And the twenty two thousand that die each day that their not a priority, Tell them we have more important matters to adhere, That our top ten banking bosses earn an excess of two hundred million a year, So what about our eight hundred and fity million that don’t have access to clean water, Tell them they dont really have a voice and dont really matter, Clean is not fourteen billion pounds of waste dumped this year into the sea, Clean is not two hundred million gallons of crued oil lost into our oceans by BP. I am Jimmy.
0
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 6:43 AM UTC
QUESTION
An away game at Leeds! The Loiner Lion will have its feeds. So it was, back in the day When Revie’s Men held full sway. Reaney, Charlton, Hunter, Cooper, That defence was really super. David Harvey, ‘keeper complete, Guaranteed a solid clean sheet. The midfield ruled by Bremner and Giles, Billy’s energy, Johnny’s wiles. Lorimer and Gray down the wings, Recalling Eddie (Gray), oh my heart sings. Jones and Clarkey gave us goals, Lots of them, shoals and shoals. 73-74 our greatest year, Opponents always full of fear. Man U relegated that season too, Better days there were very few. We won the league by a merry mile, Time to smile as we did it in style. In 69 we lost just two from 42. Opponents didn’t know what to do. Burnley and City our only losses, Otherwise we were the bosses. 92 was another good year, Man U crying in their beer. Then we sold them Cantona, That really was a bridge too far. The rest is history as they say; We strive again to have our day. In the second tier on Italian money, Seeking the land of milk and honey. The Premiership’s the place where we should be, Please Messi, join us, on a free! We hanker for those glory days. God please help us with your mysterious ways. Paul Butters © PB 11\9\2015.
0
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
We Are Leeds
The immense striking letters of the gazette’s front page make me almost cross-eyed My mind is going to explode in the images I have seen in the television Boom! When will the politicians be weary in stealing the wealth of the country? Millions of pesos were caught in the centre of the golden sea Can we only find it from other countries? Is that the main reason why Filipinos are migrating: to find source of much bigger income? I am thinking about them together with their bosses with heavy iron hands I believe crime rate is escalating... ...the crime that can grab you 24 hours a day Can we still smell the tainted odor of pictures of the street children... children who beg for a piece of bread? Mr. President, where is the promised straight road you are pointing at? Why can’t we see it? Is it crooked? Why is it that these are the ONLY stuffing of rumors? Why can’t we focus onto a bigger and wider problem of our country and even around the world? Perhaps above all issues, this is the only concern that is not yet trending in Twitter So, I just boasted it to my open-mouthed puppy... “If I will be the President of the Philippines, I will focus first on ENVIRONMENTAL ISSUES.” Suddenly, Bruno’s saliva dripped.
0
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
If I will be the President...
Uhh..,I'm just gonna **** around on this one, lights, camera, action nigga..yoo,Young Ston, of course it's still gone be dat real **** Day trill spit..Yeah That unbelievable **** dawg..my ***** you should already know Dat tho dawg.. Let's go..(Uhh2)..(Yeah2).. (Lights, Camera, Action3),we filming , we back Yeah, we back man..(Yeah2)..(Lights, Camera, Action3)..Yeah we filming,..yeah we back in business again..Yeah we back man...(Uhh2)..(Yeah2)..(Light Camera Action2) Yeah ***** we back to filming , no acting..This is a true story yeah a documentary of a young ***** that was broke once, but used his mind to get up outta the struggle...Yeah Young Ston,..Uhh let's get it cracking..(Lights Camera Action*2)..Lights Camera Action ***** Let's get it..Let's go..Let the cameras roll & dont stop filming at all,..Lights ,Camera, Action dawg..Uhh OFTR we ready for whatever, ***** we building an empire, & a palace to relax , smoke & Trap at my ***** let's get back to business, Yeah..(Lights, camera, action..*3)..ain't no stopping, no quitting.. **** all of them doubters ***** they even more disappointed & mad now shit..they shoulda stayed on they hustle instead of waisting time being on my **** dawg.. Ayo.., I came outta no where so prepared like the attack on Pearl Harbor, blasting wisdom nigga..fuck the system ***** its very curropted.. They don't give a **** about us ****** They just want us trapped & blindfolded, but OFTR we breaking free from all of this corruption,..Uhh.. (Lights, Camera, Action*3) Forget listening to these other ****** music they wack to me, they with the gay agenda, They hypnotizing & brainwashing the youth mane..so forget worshipping those faggets, they ******* **** & bending over just to get a check,...Only Jesus gets my praise..Aye man.. OFTR, no we ain't kissing nobody *** **** the white man, he's Satan, **** a major deal, I don't need that, Naw nigga..I'm bossing myself, forget Bossing around my ***** we all bosses man, I'm helping my ****** out that's tryna get wealthy, my ***** ain't nothing selfish about OFTR, all we ever do is help the people, **** being a celebrity ***** OFTR we all leaders my ***** let's get back to the action..Yeah..Yeah..Aye..Uhh (Lights, Camera, Action..*3)..nigga get to filming..aye Only Real ****** get the privilege to **** wit me, I only hang wit (The Family*2)..is my security yo my ***** if you don't like me then stay from round my way..& if you talk bad about my team then you are attempting to get hurt mane, just stay away Cuhz, you dealing wit real gangsters man, no movie, but you can call this The Rise of The ****** Disciple, Imma young ***** that made his own way Yeah.. I be thuggin everyday, I go gangsta on these beats, I be gangsta in these streets, Imma real nigga,Imma Poet, Imma legend, Yeah I'm more than a rapper ***** I'm the Streets Preacher, Yeah mane..(OK*3)..cool,..Let's do it..Uhh.. (Lights, Camera, Action3)..we filming, Yeah (lights, camera, action3)..nigga we back, Yeah ***** we back in business man, Yeah we back to filming again, Yeah we back , nigga,Yeah we back in business man..(Yeah ***** we back*3)..in business again..Aye.. lights , camera, action..yeah (Lights, Camera*2)..action..Lights , Camera, Action.. /(Lights, Camera2)..action../2 (Yeah ***** we back*3)..in business.. Young Ston OFTR (Yeah nigga3)..(Yeah2)..Uhh
0
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
Ston Poet - Lights,Camera,Action
Uhh..,I'm just gonna **** around on this one, lights, camera, action nigga..yoo,Young Ston, of course it's still gone be dat real **** Day trill spit..Yeah That unbelievable **** dawg..my ***** you should already know Dat tho dawg.. Let's go..(Uhh2)..(Yeah2).. (Lights, Camera, Action3),we filming , we back Yeah, we back man..(Yeah2)..(Lights, Camera, Action3)..Yeah we filming,..yeah we back in business again..Yeah we back man...(Uhh2)..(Yeah2)..(Light Camera Action2) Yeah ***** we back to filming , no acting..This is a true story yeah a documentary of a young ***** that was broke once, but used his mind to get up outta the struggle...Yeah Young Ston,..Uhh let's get it cracking..(Lights Camera Action*2)..Lights Camera Action ***** Let's get it..Let's go..Let the cameras roll & dont stop filming at all,..Lights ,Camera, Action dawg..Uhh OFTR we ready for whatever, ***** we building an empire, & a palace to relax , smoke & Trap at my ***** let's get back to business, Yeah..(Lights, camera, action..*3)..ain't no stopping, no quitting.. **** all of them doubters ***** they even more disappointed & mad now shit..they shoulda stayed on they hustle instead of waisting time being on my **** dawg.. Ayo.., I came outta no where so prepared like the attack on Pearl Harbor, blasting wisdom nigga..fuck the system ***** its very curropted.. They don't give a **** about us ****** They just want us trapped & blindfolded, but OFTR we breaking free from all of this corruption,..Uhh.. (Lights, Camera, Action*3) Forget listening to these other ****** music they wack to me, they with the gay agenda, They hypnotizing & brainwashing the youth mane..so forget worshipping those faggets, they ******* **** & bending over just to get a check,...Only Jesus gets my praise..Aye man.. OFTR, no we ain't kissing nobody *** **** the white man, he's Satan, **** a major deal, I don't need that, Naw nigga..I'm bossing myself, forget Bossing around my ***** we all bosses man, I'm helping my ****** out that's tryna get wealthy, my ***** ain't nothing selfish about OFTR, all we ever do is help the people, **** being a celebrity ***** OFTR we all leaders my ***** let's get back to the action..Yeah..Yeah..Aye..Uhh (Lights, Camera, Action..*3)..nigga get to filming..aye Only Real ****** get the privilege to **** wit me, I only hang wit (The Family*2)..is my security yo my ***** if you don't like me then stay from round my way..& if you talk bad about my team then you are attempting to get hurt mane, just stay away Cuhz, you dealing wit real gangsters man, no movie, but you can call this The Rise of The ****** Disciple, Imma young ***** that made his own way Yeah.. I be thuggin everyday, I go gangsta on these beats, I be gangsta in these streets, Imma real nigga,Imma Poet, Imma legend, Yeah I'm more than a rapper ***** I'm the Streets Preacher, Yeah mane..(OK*3)..cool,..Let's do it..Uhh.. (Lights, Camera, Action3)..we filming, Yeah (lights, camera, action3)..nigga we back, Yeah ***** we back in business man, Yeah we back to filming again, Yeah we back , nigga,Yeah we back in business man..(Yeah ***** we back*3)..in business again..Aye.. lights , camera, action..yeah (Lights, Camera*2)..action..Lights , Camera, Action.. /(Lights, Camera2)..action../2 (Yeah ***** we back*3)..in business.. Young Ston OFTR (Yeah nigga3)..(Yeah2)..Uhh
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18
**IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA BASE FORTHWITH.  ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, COLONEL CLINCKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES, VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, SALESMEN, ASCCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, PIMPS, HOES, HOBOS, BUMS, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, RELATIVES, FIANCES, GIRLFRIENDS, BOYFRIENDS, FAMILY, FRIENDS, ENEMIES, EVIL NEMISIS', CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, **** DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, (PRE OR POST) MALE IMPERSONATORS, ***** ***** VAN ***** **** VAN **** LESBIANS, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, YOUNGSTERS, SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, PECKERWOODS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICINE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, RIGHT WING, LIBERALS, OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS, THEY ARE NOT TO CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBER. BUT IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME. ........................................................................BA-ZING....................................................................**
0
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
SPAMMER SMACKDOWN
**IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA BASE FORTHWITH.  ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, COLONEL CLINCKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES, VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, SALESMEN, ASCCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, PIMPS, HOES, HOBOS, BUMS, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, RELATIVES, FIANCES, GIRLFRIENDS, BOYFRIENDS, FAMILY, FRIENDS, ENEMIES, EVIL NEMISIS', CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, **** DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, (PRE OR POST) MALE IMPERSONATORS, ***** ***** VAN ***** **** VAN **** LESBIANS, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, YOUNGSTERS, SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, PECKERWOODS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICINE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, RIGHT WING, LIBERALS, OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS, THEY ARE NOT TO CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBER. BUT IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME. ........................................................................BA-ZING....................................................................**
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4
I live on misery street With misery homes And misery rooms And misery men Making misery memories With their misery mistresses To forget their misery lives And their misery jobs With their misery bosses And misery coworkers Working to get their misery pay So they can feed their misery kids So they can focus at misery school And get misery grades So they can have misery lives of their own. I live on misery street Where misery isn't misery at all. Misery is routine.
0
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
Misery Street
He showed promise  That's what they said Never knocked out Next in line for the big seat He could take a hit and hit right back Then the Depression hit hard The money, the promise, gone in an instant Injury after injury, loss after loss He was beat up and beaten down No more boxing Third night in a row without dinner Bills stacked up on the counter Out of money, out of credit, out of milk Power's shut off, kids are cold Wife is tired and so is he Working at the docks with a broken hand When he's lucky He comes home from a thankless day Children gone, wife in tears We couldn't keep them warm, she says They were getting sick, so I sent them away We couldn't even feed them, Jimmy She cries and he can't handle it So he leaves He goes to an office, fills out a form, waits in line A woman hands him money, but he can't look for the shame He takes it anyway He goes to his friends, his old bosses Please, I just want my children back, he begs He sacrifices all self respect, all dignity What makes him a man, gone, for his children They throw him some spare change A true friend makes up the difference His family back together, there is happiness But, dear God, will he ever make it out of this hole They come to him with a fight A glimmer of hope: money He fights, he wins, but he doesn't dream At least he doesn't say He says it was just one fight But they come again with another matchup He wins again  And he doesn't stop winning Until one day he's in that same spot His shot at the big spot And his opponent is mean, A true killer of men But he is stronger, tougher He fights for the beat up, the broke down He fights for those who have to beg He fights for his family, for milk  He fights for the very right to live and breathe And he will not lose this fight He will scratch, bite, claw his way But he will not lose And he doesn't  And we won't because losing isn't an option because everything is riding on it because suffering makes us stronger because when life hits you hard, you don't fall down You hit back
0
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Cinderella Man
He showed promise  That's what they said Never knocked out Next in line for the big seat He could take a hit and hit right back Then the Depression hit hard The money, the promise, gone in an instant Injury after injury, loss after loss He was beat up and beaten down No more boxing Third night in a row without dinner Bills stacked up on the counter Out of money, out of credit, out of milk Power's shut off, kids are cold Wife is tired and so is he Working at the docks with a broken hand When he's lucky He comes home from a thankless day Children gone, wife in tears We couldn't keep them warm, she says They were getting sick, so I sent them away We couldn't even feed them, Jimmy She cries and he can't handle it So he leaves He goes to an office, fills out a form, waits in line A woman hands him money, but he can't look for the shame He takes it anyway He goes to his friends, his old bosses Please, I just want my children back, he begs He sacrifices all self respect, all dignity What makes him a man, gone, for his children They throw him some spare change A true friend makes up the difference His family back together, there is happiness But, dear God, will he ever make it out of this hole They come to him with a fight A glimmer of hope: money He fights, he wins, but he doesn't dream At least he doesn't say He says it was just one fight But they come again with another matchup He wins again  And he doesn't stop winning Until one day he's in that same spot His shot at the big spot And his opponent is mean, A true killer of men But he is stronger, tougher He fights for the beat up, the broke down He fights for those who have to beg He fights for his family, for milk  He fights for the very right to live and breathe And he will not lose this fight He will scratch, bite, claw his way But he will not lose And he doesn't  And we won't because losing isn't an option because everything is riding on it because suffering makes us stronger because when life hits you hard, you don't fall down You hit back
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62
weary of mothers and friends losing their children, before their time, weary of failing to achieve reconciliation with whatever one nominates the force that regulates, fate, Name-Your-God, deity of your choice, nature, laws of physics, the "whatever" that controls, interferes, that you think to believe wills these event's occurrence non-randomly cessation of formalities, one sided truce signed and delivered, unafraid to call this what it is, **** and damning fate, for no god could be so cruel... If only there was a Dislike button for life and the poems wrenched from death at 5:00 am this thought is my sole inhabitant once again, nature's bosses distort, another friend's grief asks, cajoles me to betray my/thy belief banish it or me, for we both cannot be cohabitants under the one roof, of this limited mind, where flailing poems never good enough, failing to express my sorrowed rage
0
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
A Childless Mother (weary of mothers losing their children)
My job is to bake cakes I once magically created cakes of every hue Cakes that tasted like fruit or cream And others that were super sweet Still, others that were filling and heathy I was only limited to my creativity Then the cake bosses Ordered me to bake only vanilla cakes They said that all cakes are the same And my cakes must meet their standards Yet their criteria was vanilla and plain I was forced to throw off the fruit and cream And mute the rainbow of colors Even to add vanilla and sugar to my heathy cakes If that wasn't bad enough The cake bosses pressured me to fill unrealistic quotas And to treat all of the cakes the same Even though they are, naturally, flavored differently Then my budget was cut and bakers were downsized Next, I had more cakes to bake and less time to prepare I was even told to do without eggs and milk But the cakes must meet even higher standards How does this taste? Does it leave a bad taste in your mouth too? It's not a piece a cake But I choose to bake on Believing that I can still bake special cakes The batter just gets thicker everyday
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
It's Not a Piece of Cake!
Act like the king, When u say u ain't the bosses, When u think like me as the king of bosses don't care about his ****** Why, why, why? Be the king of bosses don't care about his ****** why, why, why??? Move like the boss, If u ain't moving like the boss When you look at the boss, Give me some respect!
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Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 9:08 PM UTC
King of Bosses(Ajani's song)
I know That Times Will Change. The Struggle is the same. The Battle lines are always where they've been. We've been charging for so long. This time we must be strong, Or be scattered like the leaves blown by the wind. Yesterday as I was  walking. I heard these two men talking About a third man who wasn't there. I heard them put him down, Just because his skin is brown. It's no wonder that the world just isn't fair. I heard a woman say She did not have equal pay As the men who did the same job that she did. When she asked the bosses why, The looked her right in the eye, And told her to go home and raise her kids. In the poorer neighborhood Where the roads are never good, And the prices in the market are too high, When you bother to compair, The food is cheaper where The well-to-do are sure to shop and buy. I know that times will change. The struggle stays the same. The Battle lines are always where they've been. We've been charging for so long. This time we must be strong, Or be scattered like the leaves blown by the wind. They said in the news cast A man was beaten bad. He was on his way for treatment when he died. He had dared to love a man, and they called that love a sin. I think the only sin was how they lied. There's an teen-ager in jail Being held without a bail. His only crime was coming to our land. Before they let him go, They'll strip him of his hope, Then send him to the gangs across the Rio Grande. I know the times will change. The struggle stays the same. The battle lines are always where they've been. We've been charging for so long. This time we must be strong, Or scatter like the leaves blown by the wind. We've been fighting for so long. This time we must stand strong, Stronger than the leaves blown by the wind.
0
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
The Leaves Blown By The Wind
I know That Times Will Change. The Struggle is the same. The Battle lines are always where they've been. We've been charging for so long. This time we must be strong, Or be scattered like the leaves blown by the wind. Yesterday as I was  walking. I heard these two men talking About a third man who wasn't there. I heard them put him down, Just because his skin is brown. It's no wonder that the world just isn't fair. I heard a woman say She did not have equal pay As the men who did the same job that she did. When she asked the bosses why, The looked her right in the eye, And told her to go home and raise her kids. In the poorer neighborhood Where the roads are never good, And the prices in the market are too high, When you bother to compair, The food is cheaper where The well-to-do are sure to shop and buy. I know that times will change. The struggle stays the same. The Battle lines are always where they've been. We've been charging for so long. This time we must be strong, Or be scattered like the leaves blown by the wind. They said in the news cast A man was beaten bad. He was on his way for treatment when he died. He had dared to love a man, and they called that love a sin. I think the only sin was how they lied. There's an teen-ager in jail Being held without a bail. His only crime was coming to our land. Before they let him go, They'll strip him of his hope, Then send him to the gangs across the Rio Grande. I know the times will change. The struggle stays the same. The battle lines are always where they've been. We've been charging for so long. This time we must be strong, Or scatter like the leaves blown by the wind. We've been fighting for so long. This time we must stand strong, Stronger than the leaves blown by the wind.
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51
dab for the teachers dab for the kids dab for the ministers dab for the office workers dab for the police dab for the cafeteria workers dab for the janitors dab for the musicians not heard dab for the bosses dab for the civilizations to come dab for the respectful dab for the nice ones dab for the politicians dab for the moms dab for the dads dab for the able dab for the disabled dab for the poor dab for the mechanics dab for the coaches dab for your family dab for your friends dab for her and for him dab for yourself and dab for appreciation
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC
dab
Why do artists **** their arts? Journalists obey corporate bosses. Doctors peddle drugs for status. Lawyers work for robber barons. Bankers' havens for barons' taxes. Kings start wars for hefty profits. Charity's done for the sake of publicity. Vanity today is a thriving industry. Shopping's done with borrowed money. Bankruptcy levels; not seen in history. From hazardous things; profits aplenty. Poisoned wells we leave our progeny. These lunacies have a common cause, To win 'the rat race'; at any **** rate, Even earthly mother, we brutally **** How much is enough, to be content? Pharaoh's wealth was greater than most, But while he drowned, it saved him not. Instead, strive for a righteous life, Bonded to mother, free from desire. For we're not islands, or rats in a race. And when we stand on Judgement Day, Our wealth that day will have no say, Our deeds that day will lead the way.
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Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Strange Times, These are Indeed...
I look at my hands as they shiver All the cuts, scratches and scars The dark freckle and small wound that make it seem as though I have stigmata I've been crucified a time or two, but only in my head, no stakes through my hands Looking at the mirror Seeing my face Seeing all the scars But this time they don't mar my skin I can see them on my tattered, stained soul I can see it in my eyes Other people see my eyes and it evokes a light feeling All I can see is the dark hidden away I wish I could see what they see instead My laptop is open I see people I like and love and hate posting about their lives Making themselves seem significant Despite the fact that they live ignorant lives Living in the cloud city of dreams Arguing over whose God is better Arguing over whose politician will make the world a utopia I suppose politicians are some people's real Gods Posting about the latest trends Trying to garner attention for nothing As if a thousand "friends" liking a status really means anything at all Work meeting this Sunday I know what I'll see Three idiots Two bosses One pseudo sister One girl who shouldn't work there One girl who should be mine, and everyone knows it Two managers that I actually get along with I'll see little notes scribbled with ******** compliments that everyone writes "Great work on Sunday!" "So glad you took care of that thing for me!" Because apparently a thank you and a paycheck isn't good enough They need to feed their egos That's what matters to them I look at my friends Or the people who used to be called that Now I talk to them once every few months Plan to hang out every now and then See them once a year Normally on accident They're total jerks anyways, so I don't mind They're a living reminder that I need good people in my life Good on ya, former friends In my room I see my dog The lazy ******* just sleeps on my bed Halfway under my sheets He's snoring He's a good dog I'll let him be If only I could be like him And sleep all day Or like my former friends And just not care Or like that girl at work And not realize we should be together Or like the denizens of cloudville And live an ignorant, happy life But that would all be too easy I like that I can see all these things Things that they can't see Except my empty bank account I just won't look at that
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 3:19 PM UTC
The Things I See
I look at my hands as they shiver All the cuts, scratches and scars The dark freckle and small wound that make it seem as though I have stigmata I've been crucified a time or two, but only in my head, no stakes through my hands Looking at the mirror Seeing my face Seeing all the scars But this time they don't mar my skin I can see them on my tattered, stained soul I can see it in my eyes Other people see my eyes and it evokes a light feeling All I can see is the dark hidden away I wish I could see what they see instead My laptop is open I see people I like and love and hate posting about their lives Making themselves seem significant Despite the fact that they live ignorant lives Living in the cloud city of dreams Arguing over whose God is better Arguing over whose politician will make the world a utopia I suppose politicians are some people's real Gods Posting about the latest trends Trying to garner attention for nothing As if a thousand "friends" liking a status really means anything at all Work meeting this Sunday I know what I'll see Three idiots Two bosses One pseudo sister One girl who shouldn't work there One girl who should be mine, and everyone knows it Two managers that I actually get along with I'll see little notes scribbled with ******** compliments that everyone writes "Great work on Sunday!" "So glad you took care of that thing for me!" Because apparently a thank you and a paycheck isn't good enough They need to feed their egos That's what matters to them I look at my friends Or the people who used to be called that Now I talk to them once every few months Plan to hang out every now and then See them once a year Normally on accident They're total jerks anyways, so I don't mind They're a living reminder that I need good people in my life Good on ya, former friends In my room I see my dog The lazy ******* just sleeps on my bed Halfway under my sheets He's snoring He's a good dog I'll let him be If only I could be like him And sleep all day Or like my former friends And just not care Or like that girl at work And not realize we should be together Or like the denizens of cloudville And live an ignorant, happy life But that would all be too easy I like that I can see all these things Things that they can't see Except my empty bank account I just won't look at that
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66
I’m hanging up my dungarees, And doing so for good, The video game cover art doesn’t Acknowledge me like it should, My brother gets his name in lights, While I do half the work, All the sibling rivalry, Is driving me berserk, I can beat the Koopa Troopas And stomp on Bowser too, But I only see the light of day If there’s a player two, And they’re rarely ever any good, I never reach the bosses, It’s always game over screens And endless 1-up losses, So I’m hanging up my dungarees, For the final time, I won’t go saving Peach tomorrow, I’ll start towing my own line, There’s no Goombas and Koopas, Out there that I’m needed to startle And for some reason, it’s always your princess, Not mine, who’s in another castle.
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Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Hanging Up My Dungarees
Literature literally leaps, like a lioness letting lemurs leave her licked lips. Books beg to be broken open by bored bosses and brothers and all others. Poems practically pray for people to pick open pages of Poe and other ponderers of personification. Metaphors make mothers and masters master their manipulative messages. Similes smile slyly and smother the selfish and selfless alike like a snake or slaughterer. And on average, only an artistic artificial android with an arsenal of all arithmetic and knowledge knows, That though they thought that they could think like the theorizing thinkers, Nearly nobody knows never to neglect knowledge, whether on rope knots or nautical knots, neanderthals or Narnia.
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 8:44 PM UTC
Literature.
In Silence The English ex SAS Special Forces member went to the Ukraine to fight. He travelled light and took just a small back pack and a head full of skills. A gun was a gun and a bayonet a bayonet. He was trained to use most things as weapon especially military articles. He decided to go to the Ukraine after the Russians invaded proper in early 2022. The Ukrainian Army took him to a holding facility where they vetted him. This took three days. Included was basic close combat skills and weapons use. He excelled and was given a job, being sent to a forward artillery position with a dozen other foreign troops to protect it. The SAS man was in charge and most men and the single girl spoke English. All understood military commands and signals. All were veterans from either conscript or professional armies. Each was here for their own reasons and all disliked either what Russia had done or Russians themselves. The English SAS member had killed several Muslim terrorists from Daesh and al Qaeda in Iraq and Afghanistan. Now he looked forward to fighting and killing some Russians, officers if possible. After being in the Ukraine six days he was on the front line leading his first patrol. This was better than being a bouncer in a Manchester night club! The SAS guy ordered his men to only use bayonets as they silently crept to a Russian fox hole a mile away. He wanted blood and the rush of combat, of killing. There was the trench and a single sentry, asleep. He would knife him himself. Then his squad would ****** the rest and take back any weapons, maps or documents. He spoke four languages including Russian. Any Intel was good for his bosses though. Here we go! There’s the sleeping sentry. Gently now, he must die in silence…
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Mar 20, 2022
Mar 20, 2022 at 5:33 PM UTC
In Silence
In Silence The English ex SAS Special Forces member went to the Ukraine to fight. He travelled light and took just a small back pack and a head full of skills. A gun was a gun and a bayonet a bayonet. He was trained to use most things as weapon especially military articles. He decided to go to the Ukraine after the Russians invaded proper in early 2022. The Ukrainian Army took him to a holding facility where they vetted him. This took three days. Included was basic close combat skills and weapons use. He excelled and was given a job, being sent to a forward artillery position with a dozen other foreign troops to protect it. The SAS man was in charge and most men and the single girl spoke English. All understood military commands and signals. All were veterans from either conscript or professional armies. Each was here for their own reasons and all disliked either what Russia had done or Russians themselves. The English SAS member had killed several Muslim terrorists from Daesh and al Qaeda in Iraq and Afghanistan. Now he looked forward to fighting and killing some Russians, officers if possible. After being in the Ukraine six days he was on the front line leading his first patrol. This was better than being a bouncer in a Manchester night club! The SAS guy ordered his men to only use bayonets as they silently crept to a Russian fox hole a mile away. He wanted blood and the rush of combat, of killing. There was the trench and a single sentry, asleep. He would knife him himself. Then his squad would ****** the rest and take back any weapons, maps or documents. He spoke four languages including Russian. Any Intel was good for his bosses though. Here we go! There’s the sleeping sentry. Gently now, he must die in silence…
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6
Four pigeons sing-song, nine hours the day long Menial and manual, this warehouse life is annual Lonely industrial estates on a hazy morning when the ecstatic eastern winds are horning Where I count boxes, load lorries and dodge bosses Listen to the birds coo and a phone playing blues too I give names to them all, the birds in the rafters and sing a nine hour song of all their ever afters Dirt under my nails, from a day of insulation sales The solace I find of an eve is the fantastic words you weave You who write to live, you who my soul I will give The ghost of my future self, a rambling poet working for money, I'll be you I just know it Simultaneous afterlife, generational satellite The energy we possess, is transferred with every breath You are me and I am you, together, nothing we can't do Some day I'll run wild, a leader of a literary mob but right now I just dream of such things on the job
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
Scientists Count Whales From Space