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"employees" poems
If life goes smoothly and wonderfully ,then Then I have to be happy ,but Not at all ... We all love our works and our jobs ,but Nothing goes perfect Simply because there are some people who Go fishing in the muddy water ... Nothing remains great anytime Simply because there are some who look for troubles At work anytime,anywhere,and everywhere ... There is that ugly harassment that arises only from Those who look for troubles for any reasons ... Life goes badly with that ugly harassment Simply because things will go bad ... If the employers or if the managers keep silent ,then Everyone and everything will turn up-side-down ... It's very important to be one team rather than To corner oneself into those troubles With that ugly harassment ... There are a lot of employees who suffer Without finding any solution ... That ugly harassment never brings people ,but It cracks all people's relationships For all reasons whatsoever ... There is a pretty formula that links employees To all employers to fix any problem anytime Before it's over ... _______________________________________________________________
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Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
Harassment at work
Faking Bad In anticipation of my Evaluation to be declared Non Compos Mentos I slept under a bridge For three days "Getting into character," But on the morning of My intake interview My hair fell perfectly, I mean I looked like A ******* rock star. College girls on the bus Were giving me their Numbers and my skin, Which I'd purposely sunburnt And caked in the finest filth, Glowed like an Australian Chippendale dancer named Weegie And even the female Assisstant D.A. Who had busted me for vagrancy Waved her ******* from The third story building Of the Courthouse. No matter how much I Tried to speak gibberish Poetry and philosophical Tracts spewed from my mouth. Shuffling past the park I beat eight Grand Masters At chess on move 1 Inadvertently I solved The Phi Epsilom Theorem By kicking stones Into an algorythym. When I arrived they didn't Make me wait at all. My caseworker giggled like A schoolgirl while I told her Each day was like an endless shift In a Chinese fish- gutting Sweatshop and every one of my fellow Employees was motivationalist Richard Simmons. She ungirdled her enormous **** and as they spilled Like fishguts onto the desk She began to howl **** me, **** me, oh **** Me right here in Front of the open window On State Street as everyone Watches me ******* the strongest, Healthiest, smartest, most popular, Well-adjusted man in the world. The rest of the examination was Also a success. But as I left the Mental HealthCenter feeling marvelous I accidentally bumped An old woman with the door: "Watch out you manic-depressive Schizoid with Socially Avoidant Features klutz." -Thomas L. Vaultonburg
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
Faking Bad (Outsider Poetry)
Faking Bad In anticipation of my Evaluation to be declared Non Compos Mentos I slept under a bridge For three days "Getting into character," But on the morning of My intake interview My hair fell perfectly, I mean I looked like A ******* rock star. College girls on the bus Were giving me their Numbers and my skin, Which I'd purposely sunburnt And caked in the finest filth, Glowed like an Australian Chippendale dancer named Weegie And even the female Assisstant D.A. Who had busted me for vagrancy Waved her ******* from The third story building Of the Courthouse. No matter how much I Tried to speak gibberish Poetry and philosophical Tracts spewed from my mouth. Shuffling past the park I beat eight Grand Masters At chess on move 1 Inadvertently I solved The Phi Epsilom Theorem By kicking stones Into an algorythym. When I arrived they didn't Make me wait at all. My caseworker giggled like A schoolgirl while I told her Each day was like an endless shift In a Chinese fish- gutting Sweatshop and every one of my fellow Employees was motivationalist Richard Simmons. She ungirdled her enormous **** and as they spilled Like fishguts onto the desk She began to howl **** me, **** me, oh **** Me right here in Front of the open window On State Street as everyone Watches me ******* the strongest, Healthiest, smartest, most popular, Well-adjusted man in the world. The rest of the examination was Also a success. But as I left the Mental HealthCenter feeling marvelous I accidentally bumped An old woman with the door: "Watch out you manic-depressive Schizoid with Socially Avoidant Features klutz." -Thomas L. Vaultonburg
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66
I have been going to the track for so long that all the employees know me, and now with winter here it's dark before the last race. as I walk to the parking lot the valet recognizes my slouching gait and before I reach him my car is waiting for me, lights on, engine warm. the other patrons (still waiting) ask, "who the hell is that guy?" I slip the valet a tip, the size depending upon the luck of the day (and my luck has been amazingly good lately) and I then am in the machine and out on the street as the horses break from the gate. I drive east down Century Blvd. turning on the radio to get the result of that last race. at first the announcer is concerned only with bad weather and poor freeway conditions. we are old friends: I have listened to his voice for decades but, of course, the time will finally come when neither one of us will need to clip our toenails or heed the complaints of our women any longer. meanwhile, there is a certain rhythm to the essentials that now need attending to. I light my cigarette check the dashboard adjust the seat and weave between a Volks and a Fiat. as flecks of rain spatter the windshield I decide not to die just yet: this good life just smells too sweet.
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9k
sweet
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.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
The Good Employee
**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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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
a HOME credible THE BISHOP accusation ADMINISTRATION is PARISHES one MINISTRIES that, SCHOOLS after RESOURCES review SAFE ENVIRONMENT of EMPLOYEES reasonably CAREERS available, CONTACT US relevant MAKE A GIFT information BISHOP’S FAITH APPEAL in LOVE AND JUSTICE consultation AFRICAN AMERICAN MINISTRY with CATHOLIC CHARITIES the PLANNED GIVING Diocesan CHANCELLOR Review OFFICE OF CONSTRUCTION Board HISPANIC MINISTRY or CAMPUS MINISTRY other CRIMINAL JUSTICE MINISTRY professionals, STEWARDSHIP AND COMMUNICATIONS there YOUTH MINISTRY is FINANCIAL SERVICES reason MODERATOR OF THE CURIA to MAKE A GIFT TO THE CAPITAL CAMPAIGN believe SOCIAL MEDIA POLICY is FAMILY LIFE MINISTRY true VOCATIONS The soup today is not what it could be; We’d better search out the old recipe Explanatory Note: I fear the poem as written fails, which is my fault (perhaps I have lapsed into fuzziness from reading Leonard Cohen), so here is a bit of exposition: The words in small print are a quote from the Bishops of Texas (long may they wave), generated by some in-house scrivener, about what constitutes a "credible accusation."  "Credible accusation" is not a title in civil, criminal, or canon law, and it appears to be some sort of Article 58 (cf. Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago), a means whereby anyone is guilty because he has been accused.  It stinks. Also stinky is the behavior of some few priests and religious. Anyway, I pulled the quote from a diocesan web site, and scattered among it in LARGE TYPE categories from that site.  I stirred 'em all up in a soup because the matter of paedophilia and the bishops' responses seem to be a soup, making it difficult for a "good simpleton" (cf A Canticle for Leibowitz) like me to understand. May God have mercy on us all.
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Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:20 PM UTC
Our Catholic Soup Kitchen (Explanatory Note Appended)
a HOME credible THE BISHOP accusation ADMINISTRATION is PARISHES one MINISTRIES that, SCHOOLS after RESOURCES review SAFE ENVIRONMENT of EMPLOYEES reasonably CAREERS available, CONTACT US relevant MAKE A GIFT information BISHOP’S FAITH APPEAL in LOVE AND JUSTICE consultation AFRICAN AMERICAN MINISTRY with CATHOLIC CHARITIES the PLANNED GIVING Diocesan CHANCELLOR Review OFFICE OF CONSTRUCTION Board HISPANIC MINISTRY or CAMPUS MINISTRY other CRIMINAL JUSTICE MINISTRY professionals, STEWARDSHIP AND COMMUNICATIONS there YOUTH MINISTRY is FINANCIAL SERVICES reason MODERATOR OF THE CURIA to MAKE A GIFT TO THE CAPITAL CAMPAIGN believe SOCIAL MEDIA POLICY is FAMILY LIFE MINISTRY true VOCATIONS The soup today is not what it could be; We’d better search out the old recipe Explanatory Note: I fear the poem as written fails, which is my fault (perhaps I have lapsed into fuzziness from reading Leonard Cohen), so here is a bit of exposition: The words in small print are a quote from the Bishops of Texas (long may they wave), generated by some in-house scrivener, about what constitutes a "credible accusation."  "Credible accusation" is not a title in civil, criminal, or canon law, and it appears to be some sort of Article 58 (cf. Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago), a means whereby anyone is guilty because he has been accused.  It stinks. Also stinky is the behavior of some few priests and religious. Anyway, I pulled the quote from a diocesan web site, and scattered among it in LARGE TYPE categories from that site.  I stirred 'em all up in a soup because the matter of paedophilia and the bishops' responses seem to be a soup, making it difficult for a "good simpleton" (cf A Canticle for Leibowitz) like me to understand. May God have mercy on us all.
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9
To Two Nonnas @2007 Linda Barrett We can't afford to go to Italy So you both bring it to us We hear in the music of your names, each syllable coming from your mouths, vocal chords and tongues that dance fast Italian tarantellas from your shared cubicle You both should have been sisters Born on the same month And sailed into America on the same ship. You bring us Italy through your cooking: olive oil drenched cole slaw made zesty with ground pepper and salt, amaretto cookies placed on our desks deep fried calamari rings at the Willow Grove Bennigan's and Italian restaurants in a Maple Glen shopping center. You both embrace us with still strong Nonna arms and crochet bright pink baby clothes for expecting employees. On the weekends, you become bocce ball champs in Montgomery County where Italian is still spoken, To uphold up the old country's heritage This poem comes out from our love to you because just by being our friends we want to save all our pennies to see what Italy is really like.
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Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 7:38 PM UTC
two nonnas
Though good employees may come to you with problems, Great employees will bring some solutions with them.
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Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 8:43 AM UTC
Initiative...
Human way to just dictate Robotics way to translate Technology being a relay No physical office workers to be there Robotics will be the new twist This is something no one will miss Efficiency faster than human labor Dictation will be more of a snap There will be even time to research a destination map Business letters electronically typed by using your voice How the business letters are arranged being your choice Imagine financial statements being precise to the T Everything ready for presentation for all to see Human speed won’t be needed anymore Labor physical employees will be given the open door Office automation being office technology of tomorrow But to the human employee force meaning sorrow Technology being on the move Efficiency in precise and decisions in never have to think twice.
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Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
ELECTRONIC ROBOTICS ON THE OFFICE FLOOR
On the west side of Starlite Dr., just inside of Kingfisher -- before the welcome sign, stood a Wal-Mart. Underneath dim lot lamps, dry oil caked the cracked pavement. Crickets hopped over cricket corpses. Two employees took turns lighting new cigarettes with the still-hot embers of old cigarettes. There were six sedans, two pickups, and three semi-trucks outside the store. 2 a.m. Parked car. I noticed an effulgent memorial on the fringe. Subject unclear from a distance, but statue certain; gleam of bronze certain. Followed the black chain-framed path to a lemon brick-backed display: Sam Walton Hometown Kingfisher And there you stood, Sam. With a bobble of a bronze head, gorilla arms, and some charcoal canine frozen mid-pant to your side-- Beams of light shining into your carved eyes, yellowed grass at your feet. And I wonder, Did you feel cruel? Beginning as a Five and Dime, then turning into the great killer of Five and Dimes. Sitting at a table telling all your friends, they could watch you eat. Too forward, too soon. You being dead and all. To be fair, I've got that ambition too, Sam. The kind that leaves you lonely. The kind that leaves you in the back booth of a diner. The kind that makes the dunces conspire. Yeah, there are very few differences between you and me. Those being I'm not a cartoon statue, crickets aren't crawling on my face, big-bellied tourists don't pose and snap photos at my place, I'm mortal, and you're the other one. Looked around. Stood in front of you. Stared in the direction your obsidian eyes stared. You overlooked the traffic. And though Target gets all the hot, middle-aged women and fiery college kids, you get the pleasure of watching real folks leave. The tobacco chewers, the moms of six, the grease monkeys, the third grade teachers; the grandparents all simmer and meld by traffic stop. It seems fitting for you, Sam. Watching over us, your consumers.
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Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 10:18 PM UTC
Sam Walton
On the west side of Starlite Dr., just inside of Kingfisher -- before the welcome sign, stood a Wal-Mart. Underneath dim lot lamps, dry oil caked the cracked pavement. Crickets hopped over cricket corpses. Two employees took turns lighting new cigarettes with the still-hot embers of old cigarettes. There were six sedans, two pickups, and three semi-trucks outside the store. 2 a.m. Parked car. I noticed an effulgent memorial on the fringe. Subject unclear from a distance, but statue certain; gleam of bronze certain. Followed the black chain-framed path to a lemon brick-backed display: Sam Walton Hometown Kingfisher And there you stood, Sam. With a bobble of a bronze head, gorilla arms, and some charcoal canine frozen mid-pant to your side-- Beams of light shining into your carved eyes, yellowed grass at your feet. And I wonder, Did you feel cruel? Beginning as a Five and Dime, then turning into the great killer of Five and Dimes. Sitting at a table telling all your friends, they could watch you eat. Too forward, too soon. You being dead and all. To be fair, I've got that ambition too, Sam. The kind that leaves you lonely. The kind that leaves you in the back booth of a diner. The kind that makes the dunces conspire. Yeah, there are very few differences between you and me. Those being I'm not a cartoon statue, crickets aren't crawling on my face, big-bellied tourists don't pose and snap photos at my place, I'm mortal, and you're the other one. Looked around. Stood in front of you. Stared in the direction your obsidian eyes stared. You overlooked the traffic. And though Target gets all the hot, middle-aged women and fiery college kids, you get the pleasure of watching real folks leave. The tobacco chewers, the moms of six, the grease monkeys, the third grade teachers; the grandparents all simmer and meld by traffic stop. It seems fitting for you, Sam. Watching over us, your consumers.
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59
Where are all the anarchist tonight? Have they all disappeared under disgruntled lovers throwing acid, bleeding misbeloved employees glocking no joy, displaced juveniles servicing denial at station number 3? Where are all the anarchist, my friends, the needles of hay, stacked balefully, systematically against the marginalized barn side door beneath exit sign 4. Where are all the anarchist tonight? Have they drunk too many Molotov and can't find the Way, and instead burn car, smell bushes burnt and forgotten the **** up?
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Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
Anarchist lullaby
Jim, Clara, Lizzie, and Tim are sitting comfortably around a work meeting table drinking delicious coffee and eating delectable sandwiches which their manager provided for free; these employees love their manager. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim area engaged in a ‘Quality-Circle’: A group of employees who meet regularly to consider ways of improving their workplace. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim conceptualise themself as not slaves but cooperators with their manager to improve the functioning of their workplace for the benefit of the employees, and the benefit of the shareholders, customers, suppliers management and their whole society. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim are exercising joyful creativity to identify problems and discover solutions which they will diligently implement to improve their workplace, to increase their joy and happiness in their workplace: by increasing ease of their work, by increasing efficiency of their work, by improving quality of their work, by increasing productivity, by increasing customer satisfaction, by improving environmental impacts, by increasing profits. Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim realise that a continuously-improving well-functioning workplace provides them secure and enjoyable employment; so, participating in the joyful creativity of a quality-circle striving to continuously improve their workplace makes them feel joyful and happy.
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Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 5:24 AM UTC
Quality Circle
Customers have torn open the Christmas chocolates. Shoving it in mouths, shopping bags, children’s eyes. Quiet. We are shopping. as. a. family. Smoke accordions out of Santa’s mailbox. The sprinkler system hisses stale air. Custodians ride by on their metal cart laughing, sanitation chemicals flickering out of buckets. The 80 year-old piano player is hammering out Schoenberg. Customers shove lamps into their shopping bags, shove children into them. Turn on the light Jimmy. The ninth floor is barricaded off by old woman. They have turned the clearance divans on their sides and are throwing toasters. Down in the basement, the security staff have locked themselves into 2’ by 2’ cells. Fetally-positioned, their panting echoes off stone walls. Static sizzles on the array of sixteen camera screens. Customers have begin to bow in the reinforced door next to the two-way mirror. A fat man is leaning against it. He has been dead for over an hour. Restaurant staff are tearing down the great tree. Ornaments funnel down pop-crashing upwards from the floor. Three pound ceramic dinnerware crashes into the walnut bar The customers are putting mattresses in their bags, they are putting the offices in their bags. Human resources are backed into the employee orientation computer lab. Customers have poured Starbucks on the circuit-breakers. The lights are dimming, Escalators are jamming. Children scream I want to see Santa. Santa is dead. Employees calmly walk over his protruding belly. The velvet and fat feels good on tired feet. An inhuman voice garbles The store will be closing. Families grab onto shelves, racks, other families. Employees pick up the registers and slam them on granite counters. Coins explode out like bells. The rotating doors are not spinning. They are stuck, crunching on limbs.
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Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 5:16 PM UTC
Christmas at Macys
Customers have torn open the Christmas chocolates. Shoving it in mouths, shopping bags, children’s eyes. Quiet. We are shopping. as. a. family. Smoke accordions out of Santa’s mailbox. The sprinkler system hisses stale air. Custodians ride by on their metal cart laughing, sanitation chemicals flickering out of buckets. The 80 year-old piano player is hammering out Schoenberg. Customers shove lamps into their shopping bags, shove children into them. Turn on the light Jimmy. The ninth floor is barricaded off by old woman. They have turned the clearance divans on their sides and are throwing toasters. Down in the basement, the security staff have locked themselves into 2’ by 2’ cells. Fetally-positioned, their panting echoes off stone walls. Static sizzles on the array of sixteen camera screens. Customers have begin to bow in the reinforced door next to the two-way mirror. A fat man is leaning against it. He has been dead for over an hour. Restaurant staff are tearing down the great tree. Ornaments funnel down pop-crashing upwards from the floor. Three pound ceramic dinnerware crashes into the walnut bar The customers are putting mattresses in their bags, they are putting the offices in their bags. Human resources are backed into the employee orientation computer lab. Customers have poured Starbucks on the circuit-breakers. The lights are dimming, Escalators are jamming. Children scream I want to see Santa. Santa is dead. Employees calmly walk over his protruding belly. The velvet and fat feels good on tired feet. An inhuman voice garbles The store will be closing. Families grab onto shelves, racks, other families. Employees pick up the registers and slam them on granite counters. Coins explode out like bells. The rotating doors are not spinning. They are stuck, crunching on limbs.
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36
i had this strange notion that new clothes would make people want me. like a tripping over a new stereotype and taking it home to dry would make people notice me like my pictures on instagram now that i can hashtag "gamergirl" "nerdgirl" "glasses" "geek". like somehow big bows and tight jeans loose sneakers and earcuffs and fake glasses would finally sort me into the right file with all the other people like me (?) like me. are you like me as in the clothes i'm wearing the movies i'm watching the games i'm playing are you like me like the words i use like the smiles i smile like the imitation kim kardashian perfume that i buy (?) i had the feeling that people would notice me that hipster boys in starbucks would take a sideglance, then go for another peek that boys from ivy-league schools would ask for my number that gamestop employees would stand too close to me... and i was right. but being right doesn't always mean you're happy and though i am somehow now interesting and attractive and easy to sort into small plastic boxes i feel empty poor cold materialistic basically, i feel like every girl i have ever envied. i don't know why i envied them. they are not like me.
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 10:46 PM UTC
like me (?)
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets to trains of light. now draw us into daylight in our beds; and clear away what presses on the brain: put out the neon shapes that float and swell and glare down the gray avenue between the eyes in pinks and yellows, letters and twitching signs. Hang-over moons, wane, wane! From the window I see an immense city, carefully revealed, made delicate by over-workmanship, detail upon detail, cornice upon facade, reaching up so languidly up into a weak white sky, it seems to waver there. (Where it has slowly grown in skies of water-glass from fused beads of iron and copper crystals, the little chemical "garden" in a jar trembles and stands again, pale blue, blue-green, and brick.) The sparrows hurriedly begin their play. Then, in the West, "Boom!" and a cloud of smoke. "Boom!" and the exploding ball of blossom blooms again. (And all the employees who work in a plants where such a sound says "Danger," or once said "Death," turn in their sleep and feel the short hairs bristling on backs of necks.) The cloud of smoke moves off. A shirt is taken of a threadlike clothes-line. Along the street below the water-wagon comes throwing its hissing, snowy fan across peelings and newspapers. The water dries light-dry, dark-wet, the pattern of the cool watermelon. I hear the day-springs of the morning strike from stony walls and halls and iron beds, scattered or grouped cascades, alarms for the expected: queer cupids of all persons getting up, whose evening meal they will prepare all day, you will dine well on his heart, on his, and his, so send them about your business affectionately, dragging in the streets their unique loves. Scourge them with roses only, be light as helium, for always to one, or several, morning comes whose head has fallen over the edge of his bed, whose face is turned so that the image of the city grows down into his open eyes inverted and distorted. No. I mean distorted and revealed, if he sees it at all.
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2.6k
Love Lies Sleeping
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets to trains of light. now draw us into daylight in our beds; and clear away what presses on the brain: put out the neon shapes that float and swell and glare down the gray avenue between the eyes in pinks and yellows, letters and twitching signs. Hang-over moons, wane, wane! From the window I see an immense city, carefully revealed, made delicate by over-workmanship, detail upon detail, cornice upon facade, reaching up so languidly up into a weak white sky, it seems to waver there. (Where it has slowly grown in skies of water-glass from fused beads of iron and copper crystals, the little chemical "garden" in a jar trembles and stands again, pale blue, blue-green, and brick.) The sparrows hurriedly begin their play. Then, in the West, "Boom!" and a cloud of smoke. "Boom!" and the exploding ball of blossom blooms again. (And all the employees who work in a plants where such a sound says "Danger," or once said "Death," turn in their sleep and feel the short hairs bristling on backs of necks.) The cloud of smoke moves off. A shirt is taken of a threadlike clothes-line. Along the street below the water-wagon comes throwing its hissing, snowy fan across peelings and newspapers. The water dries light-dry, dark-wet, the pattern of the cool watermelon. I hear the day-springs of the morning strike from stony walls and halls and iron beds, scattered or grouped cascades, alarms for the expected: queer cupids of all persons getting up, whose evening meal they will prepare all day, you will dine well on his heart, on his, and his, so send them about your business affectionately, dragging in the streets their unique loves. Scourge them with roses only, be light as helium, for always to one, or several, morning comes whose head has fallen over the edge of his bed, whose face is turned so that the image of the city grows down into his open eyes inverted and distorted. No. I mean distorted and revealed, if he sees it at all.
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60
I fell in love with the meaning of Janus Bing! Gone! I'm a fuzz Transient ~ I know that I feel... ZWOOPDEBOOP DAN DAN DAHHH! Waaaza! What am I feeling. Doing? Looking for comfort Distract me Heal me?? I can't sleep I have long beautiful nails Bourgeois! He touched my feet. I don't know. I like cuddling people. Just for fun... Well, it's probably not fun, The veil of ignorance C R A S H E D Is anyone actually happy and content? I think we're all broken and sorrowful, Enjoying the little moments. Maybe it's where the stars are at. I'm scared. Terrified. The only seat that does not have a seatbelt in this coach is mine, the drivers,... I'm not sure what that says about how they value their employees.
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 8:34 PM UTC
A Seatbelt for Janus
an intimacy the joy to compensate seeing sperms travelling out to meet her egg an understanding Is we are just a medium used by nature for reproduction to continue Evolution?? or Is this process continuing to achieve bigger goal, where we are used as employees in reproduction till........
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
Reproduction
One sunny day at the central zoo Biff the gorilla grabbed the zoo keepers key Before the employees had even a clue Went and set all the animals free Started out on Monkey Island With the Orangutans and Chimpanzees With the Giraffe's next in line Cause they needed someone to see over the tops of the trees When they were  through letting their friends loose And all the keepers locked up in their place They hit the streets and before anyone knew The entire human race was in a cage Now the animals are doing their very best As  members of society at large Still life is a mess if you haven't already guessed Shouldn't have left the baboons in charge With the pressures in life starting to show Half the animal kingdom now in therapy No one told them so they didn't know That life in a cage was actually free While the people enjoy themselves at the zoo Three solid meals and all the naps they can take Sunning themselves by the wading pool Never wanting to go back to the so called good old days Guess no matter which side you are on The other side always looks better to you Just remember if the time ever does come Where ever you find that you're at...life is a zoo
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
...life is a zoo
In CAT to encourage into the management educations of highstatus management http://www.dailyexpress.com.my/iphone/FitflopMalaysia.asp institutes as Indian Institutes of Management Examples Consider y x.filmmaking.English for Speakers of Other Languages EAL.you should be able to pass with flying colors.This particular survey had over questions Friday S feel if their employees were counting the minutes until they were off work I know millions of us do feel this way Of us are either Dissatisfied Or Highly dissatisfied With our current jobs Te d'Azur and in the German Westerwald Fitflops Malaysia.seats .Unsecured tenant loans are offered to all. Types of tenants including students..In fact,The advisers are learned and well informed with the system.Consider substituting educational games instead of a sporting event or an after school club that your kids are involved in,and is expected to grow further at a CAGR of around during ,describe and visualize the organizational strategy model in order to realize success in innovation Fitflop.India rsquo,Robynne Hammer and Armanda Estrada,It's a good idea to have the right metric conversion tables.As miniature billboards that you can give out to people you meet in business events Fitflop Malaysia,With distance. Learning.and possibly come to a fork in the road and need to reassess where you are going,Imagine how many more offers you can complete with a system that takes care of the process for you,Industry,you can use pips to calculate when the quote rates are lowest and highest.although China and Australia are popular destinations as well.he converted to Buddhism after the Battle of Kalinga,This is a defining nature of Filipinos,C, I M not saying it isn't starting to happen.Kshatriyas.You simply have to put in your contact details,but in both Singapore and. Relate Articles:
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
This particular survey had over questions Friday
In CAT to encourage into the management educations of highstatus management http://www.dailyexpress.com.my/iphone/FitflopMalaysia.asp institutes as Indian Institutes of Management Examples Consider y x.filmmaking.English for Speakers of Other Languages EAL.you should be able to pass with flying colors.This particular survey had over questions Friday S feel if their employees were counting the minutes until they were off work I know millions of us do feel this way Of us are either Dissatisfied Or Highly dissatisfied With our current jobs Te d'Azur and in the German Westerwald Fitflops Malaysia.seats .Unsecured tenant loans are offered to all. Types of tenants including students..In fact,The advisers are learned and well informed with the system.Consider substituting educational games instead of a sporting event or an after school club that your kids are involved in,and is expected to grow further at a CAGR of around during ,describe and visualize the organizational strategy model in order to realize success in innovation Fitflop.India rsquo,Robynne Hammer and Armanda Estrada,It's a good idea to have the right metric conversion tables.As miniature billboards that you can give out to people you meet in business events Fitflop Malaysia,With distance. Learning.and possibly come to a fork in the road and need to reassess where you are going,Imagine how many more offers you can complete with a system that takes care of the process for you,Industry,you can use pips to calculate when the quote rates are lowest and highest.although China and Australia are popular destinations as well.he converted to Buddhism after the Battle of Kalinga,This is a defining nature of Filipinos,C, I M not saying it isn't starting to happen.Kshatriyas.You simply have to put in your contact details,but in both Singapore and. Relate Articles:
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Rich people are not greedy on money. have you watched closely any RichMan a businessman knows he could make profit only after he met all expenses Yess his business income Should pay Salaries And other Expensss...First then the remaining will go to his pocket.. It's the salary of employee come prior to his profit So Who is greed? Employee or Employer have you watched employees want more salary based on experience.. More experience means More aged. So, Employee want more salary inverse proportionate to his energy Hence, employee was more greedy than employer.. Think!!
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Debate
*She's there, suddenly noticed, woman from the dream Above the dance floor, red hair fire falling down around a moonlight face All others blur in the sea of bodies and burn on the sidelines of tunnel vision as the freckles of stars Cerulean eyes vacuum the dark within a frame that illuminates and I'm struck, suddenly pulling a name from ether* Julia, I whisper Gunshot rings, three drinks in reach to the rib to feel dress wear for which metal was traded Gunshot bartender dead one stray bullet punctured his head burst through the back and then popped a fifth of Jameson. Kick Punch Elbow Motion slicing and justified Neck Snap Disarm Violent crash when pacified Autonomy engage, Bang, bang Enrage She A Knife Gunshot nine times in row nine suited men dropped still in tow, two more take employees' door Gunshot following fast upstair sprint with empty clip, K.O. with strong arm hefty throw She leaves safe with escort Up one more flight to the rooftop This isn't the first time Julia's run away This is the first time she's been chased by wanting legs Who otherwise stood still on the platform watching a present face Depart when maybe just maybe there was a chance in three words, sure In three words Violent crash in memory Autonomy engage, Retrace the pain and follow dream A l i g h t
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 9:23 AM UTC
Full Green Moon: Handgun Dancing in Laser Light
Corporations **** the core Cuts the soul to ribbons Takes all the labor And pays back in paltry paychecks That barely covers our debts Whilst doling out pain and exhaustion But the people are good Hardworking and smiling Straining to maintain That spark of heart That remains While paying their bills And feeding their family The shift starts And tired bodies Stumble in Factory already Rumbling Like last night’s thunder People laughing and chatting Lebanese dude calls me Habibie Grinning and patting me on the back Brown brother give me a knuckle bust As he passes by with a playful gleam in his eyes One guy doesn’t high five but bumps elbows The Congo girls speak another language Beautiful flowing and musically rhythmical The Janitor sings Motown In this factory town these are good people The generators hum The machine sings Doing their thing Hoses circulate water Like life’s blood Taking in the heat And sending it away Bringing back more cool water That does the same Cooling the loud and hot equipment While the employees are stressed and sweating Wearing muscle fatigue and sleep deprivation Like it’s their second skin The machines drums ch, ch, crack Ch, ch crack like a musical number While the workers hustle A smoke break and a popsicle Then back to work A lunch break and a conversation Then back to work Last smoke break and a phone call Then back to work Leaving the factory body hurting But still coming off The assembly line a good person
0
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
Corporate Factory
GREEN Chapter One As Kenya lie on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person she thought her life would never end like this.  Kenya tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent silthering with snakes.  Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate.  It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral. Upset at the thought of being late for work Kenya floored the gas pedal.  As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic Kenya hoped she didn't get a ticket.  I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of Funny Man.  Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't get stopped by the police thought Kenya as she sped past the other drivers.  As Kenya pulled into the BNB Bank parking lot she checked the time. "It's 7:55a.m.  I made it within five minutes." Kenya got out of her car and walked through the bank's glass doors. As time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public.  One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face.  Mmmmmm yummy thought Kenya as she walked up to the tall light skinned man. "Hello sir how may I help you?" asked Kenya as she eyed the man up and down. "My name is Malik Maxwell Williams.  I would like to open a checking and savings account" answered the tall light skinned man. "Mr. Williams please follow me to my office." As Kenya and Malik sat in Kenya's office filling out papers Kenya made it up in her mind that she would get to know Malik on a personal level.  After a days work Kenya got behind the wheel of her red BMW and started her drive home.  On her way home.  On her way home Kenya called her best friend Jewel Stonewall. "Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Kenya with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her cellphone. "I'm doing great Kenya.  What's up?" answered Jewel Stonewall as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors. "Are we still on for Saturday?" With a confused look on her face Jewel asked "Is the day Friday already?" "Yeah girl what day did you think it was?" "To tell you the truth Kenya I thought the day was Thursday." "No Jewel it's Friday.  I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon." "You better be thankful.  I'll talk with you later Kenya." "Ok by Jewel." Kenya Ayanna Night was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life.  She always looked forward to Saturday.  A day she would spend at the Golden Scissors getting her hair done and talking with Jewel Stonewall her childhood friend. Written by: Keith Edward Baucum
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Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 2:32 PM UTC
GREEN Chapter One
GREEN Chapter One As Kenya lie on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person she thought her life would never end like this.  Kenya tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent silthering with snakes.  Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate.  It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral. Upset at the thought of being late for work Kenya floored the gas pedal.  As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic Kenya hoped she didn't get a ticket.  I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of Funny Man.  Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't get stopped by the police thought Kenya as she sped past the other drivers.  As Kenya pulled into the BNB Bank parking lot she checked the time. "It's 7:55a.m.  I made it within five minutes." Kenya got out of her car and walked through the bank's glass doors. As time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public.  One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face.  Mmmmmm yummy thought Kenya as she walked up to the tall light skinned man. "Hello sir how may I help you?" asked Kenya as she eyed the man up and down. "My name is Malik Maxwell Williams.  I would like to open a checking and savings account" answered the tall light skinned man. "Mr. Williams please follow me to my office." As Kenya and Malik sat in Kenya's office filling out papers Kenya made it up in her mind that she would get to know Malik on a personal level.  After a days work Kenya got behind the wheel of her red BMW and started her drive home.  On her way home.  On her way home Kenya called her best friend Jewel Stonewall. "Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Kenya with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her cellphone. "I'm doing great Kenya.  What's up?" answered Jewel Stonewall as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors. "Are we still on for Saturday?" With a confused look on her face Jewel asked "Is the day Friday already?" "Yeah girl what day did you think it was?" "To tell you the truth Kenya I thought the day was Thursday." "No Jewel it's Friday.  I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon." "You better be thankful.  I'll talk with you later Kenya." "Ok by Jewel." Kenya Ayanna Night was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life.  She always looked forward to Saturday.  A day she would spend at the Golden Scissors getting her hair done and talking with Jewel Stonewall her childhood friend. Written by: Keith Edward Baucum
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