"employers" poems
All I want for Christmas
is some food to eat.
Oh what a treat
to have some meat.
All I want for Christmas
is clean water to drink,
stuff that doesn't stink,
that would be cool I think.
All I want for Christmas
is the bombs to stop,
no more to drop.
That would be the top.
All I want for Christmas
is for our food to grow,
the plants we sow
now that would be a show.
All I want for Christmas
is to be free to learn.
Not to be a germ
because I want to learn.
All I want for Christmas
is some medication.
and some dedication
from the United Nation.
All I want for Christmas
is to grow up strong.
Am I so wrong
wanting to belong.
All I want for Christmas
is some equal rights
and somewhere to sleep
through the coldest nights.
All I want for Christmas
is to earn a crust.
With employers
that we can really trust.
All I want for Christmas
is a chance at life
for a man and wife
not to live in strife.
All I want for Christmas
is oh so far away
and on this day
this is what I pray.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
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 ... _______________________________________________________________
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
Up early as usually but this time with a mission to complete Halloween Costumes.
Not a pain free day most definitely, but have kids who rely on me to be a good mom.
Everyone has haters; the two faced, "your girls" wanting your guy or envy clothes style,
or randoms you never met, desiring your life, home or new car bought with hard work.
Most days what's posted on sites about me makes not a bit of difference in my world,
I ignore and move on with my life, know haters have nothing better to do than gossip.
No news is good news and nothing from my usual "Town Criers" saying "Guess What?"
One day got messages in text, "You have been labeled Babylon's ***** by Craiglisters!"
Not a "lol" nor "Roflmao" situation. Thinking, What in the world? and How in the world?
Me, Ms. Abstaining and they, who love assuming and posting drama without thought.
Their world; small town America and believers of truth in "all" internet rumors and media,
not willing to give benefit of doubt, once minds, so limited in thought, have been made up.
E-mail inquiries from potential employers I never met from destinations far far away,
asking and informing that person with such low morals shall never be part of their world.
Drama finds me and neither welcome nor do I seek it out, way too emotionally draining,
believer in live and let live, authored "Celibacy" poem to stop jokes made to my kids.
Who knew that trying for your dreams could bring forth bringers or illogical pure hatred?
Who knew that emotions of my children whom I love, would be affected by narrow minds?
After family conference and with full support, by the way, had to explain ***** to son,
this mom carries on and still on second journey pursuing dreams and making realities.
If I give up dreams it will never be because someone posted bold faced lies on open forum,
it will be because I choose to do it with good reasons and those reasons are mine alone.
Pitfalls? Have been numerous. Will? Strong and still determined to see this through to end.
Tomorrow isn't promised and hear my dad say, "Daughter, go forth and let haters be fuel!"
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 4:01 AM UTC
We, the people of this country, in your eyes are:
babblers, bachelors, bafflers, baiters, barkers,
beakers, beaters, brawlers, blamers, beggars,
bloaters, bloopers, bombers, boozers, blunders,
bruisers, bafflers, bluffers, burglars and burners.
That's why you feel compelled to keep your foot on our heads
keep us down, put us down, push us down
subjugate us, belittle us, berate us.
We, the people of this country, in our eyes are:
butlers, bouncers, bakers, buyers, barbers,
cake-makers, delivery-takers, cocktail-shakers,
taxi drivers, cancer survivors, employers and hirers,
music makers, entertainers, window washers, foster takers,
plasterers, carpenters, scaffolders, sparks and builders,
boxers, carers, coaches, tailors, shoe makers,
designers, illustrators, multi-language facilitators,
dog walkers, dog trainers, bikers and cycle couriers,
doctors and nurses and all the emergency services.
We are the People, the reason you are where you are now
you sometimes forget that we exist as people, somehow
locked in your ivory towers with gold plated showers
and MP expenses and investment banker pretenses
this is not theater, its real life drama, its not just a bluff
its time to stand up
and say enough is enough.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
We all live our lives
Hidden behind the masks we switch out based on who we're around:
Fake smiles for friends and family;
Painful, quiet thoughtfulness for coworkers, employers, and educators;
Horrible secrets we keep from everyone we meet;
From everyone we love
And sometimes, these masks are gorgeous,
Like those you'd see at a masquerade.
Masks that mimic what's really there,
Yet hide it from sight as well.
And everyone who wears these masks
Will look and a mirror and think to themselves:
"Who am I? Why don't I recognize this person reflected back at me?"
It's the mask.
We wear the mask.
We hide behind it.
But when did the mask become us?
When did it become everything we are?
When did these masks start taking control?
Will we let this continue?
When does it stop?
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
The glory of failure.
It’s just **** with sugar on
Jam and cream without the scone.
Because when I’m begging out in the street
And my eyes happen to meet those eyes that look down
To me on the ground, and you put a coin in my cup,
Just remember you’re looking down I’m the one looking up.
And for those who pass by while shedding a tear
Don’t worry yourself none I’ve made enough for my gear
And more than enough for a couple of beers.
I know what you’ll say
You’ll say, I waste life away
Like I’ve wasted this day.
But I’ll say, I made enough to pay for my addiction.
The seduction which leads me to say
That’s the glory of failure.
I saw an advert for a job and this job was paying quite a few bob.
But I wouldn’t have got it…no sugar just ****
So I didn’t bother trying
I went back to lying on my bed
I went back to getting out of my head.
When all’s done and said I’m just a no hoper
A drug fiendish doper.
That’s the glory of failure.
If I could have a chance, a second chance, a last chance
To get my brain round to thinking
To think I’ll stop drinking.
I could get off the gear, I could get off my rear.
I could send my C.V to employers
Those employers who are known as the unemployment destroyers.
I could have a meaning instead of this leaning I have,
Towards self destruction.
I could get a job on a site become involved in construction.
So many things on the doorstep right here
But really
I much rather prefer getting ****** on the gear.
Oh yes that’s the glory of failure.
I should get myself well move out from this hell
But what the doctors have said is, in six months I’ll be dead
So I’m going to make tracks.
No,not those made by the needle
I’m going to wheedle
My way into a hospice which could be quite nice.
I think that’s the glory of failure
But what the hey I’m a guardian reader
But unlike other guardian readers those centre right bleeders
I’m totally anarchist, often totally tanked up and ******
But in reading the guardian I just cannot lose
It makes such wonderful padding for the holes in the soles of my shoes.
And I’ve had plenty of dates with several girlfriends of mates
But when they’re looking down there and they see nothing stir.
That may be the glory of failure.
Perhaps when I’m old and I’m ready to die
I might cast my mind back and I might wonder why,
Every time I have failed the boat seems to have just sailed.
But I was never a sailor.
I was just a participant in
The Glory Of Failure.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 3:13 AM UTC
Okay, the only one has been hiding their racism were whites.
Trying to blend into society with others because employers require a get along attitude.
Go to a bank and instantly you know the hiring schemes.
And this any community.
Same, with certain restaurants you attend.
It's the blend that point the management comfortability out.
White flight, existed because the "fearful" can't adjust to a changing society.
History has shown this.
And they have created it.
Jim Crow's laws weren't created by blacks.
Asians placed in America concentration camps wasn't their idea.
And these were American citizens.
History presently has shown that the new "pick on" group is the Latin communities.
They MS13 or this or that.
Many white businesses must be enjoying their employment keeping them in business.
For in many big cities they building the complexes and hotels, and sidewalks.
History has shown when it comes to justice they the first to try to scheme out of their crimes.
But quick to holler about locking up criminals until it's them.
History has shown when investigating wickedness in government.
They lead the pack.
Then this is just an opinion.
And no way connected to alternative facts.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
In this Developed Nation, a 19 year old woman sleeps in a bag in a door way.
In this Developed Nation, a working family of four relies on the local food bank.
In this Developed Nation, grandmothers live on a pittance and die lonely.
In this Developed Nation, my friends use drugs to fill a spiritual chasm.
In this Developed Nation, stateless refugees are kept in cages while processed.
In this Developed Nation, slave labour is abolished, but persists.
In this Developed Nation, the media patronizes and panders to the lowest common denominator.
In this Developed Nation, the unscrupulous employers bulldoze workers rights.
In this Developed Nation, the population is kept divided and ineffective.
In this Developed Nation, ‘I’m not a racist...but...’
In this Developed Nation, black people are stop/searched nine times more than whites.
In this Developed Nation, under four percent of **** reports end in conviction.
In this Developed Nation, seventeen percent of adults take anti-depressants.
In this Developed Nation, suicide is the biggest killer of men under fifty.
In this Developed Nation, children cut themselves to relieve pain.
In this Developed Nation, I’m a snowflake if I care.
What has this Nation Developed into?
Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 10:41 AM UTC
Shoot me, You might as well, cause I'm a threat
A threat to your system, a threat to your net
profit and status quo, so pick up that gun shoot me and pray to the ground I go, and when you bury me you better call me a madman and pray that the martyrs don't grow
You may as well shoot me Mr.Police officer,
It may put your employers at ease
One bless black man with a heart of power
One less antibiotic to your disease
Don't forget to tell me I'm resisting, don't forget to tase me til I fall
Don't forget to choke me so those listening won't hear my struggles, my calls
Don't forget to have the media depict me as a **** and a criminal and a menace to society
Don't forget to reprimand and berate me
Remind your older white listeners that my kind, my skin color
is still not considered American Propriety
But more like American property, disposable goods
So **** me, the cameras are recording but don't worry you'll get off free
Might be just a conviction but your Massa's new henchmen and ***** still got the key
A couple months paid administrative leave so you can sit on a beach, drink some ice tea
Mad that you can no longer put chains on our wrists so you put handcuffs instead
No longer pulling whips across our backs so you bury hot burning lead
No longer working your fields for all to see but instead privatized free prison labor with your warden holding the key.
Martin told me when he us that he had a dream
I got his same DNA in my bloodstream
And in every cell in my body I feel the effect, I teem
I boil I scream, when I see a black mother or father gunned down by police men and the children witnessing the death, the blood, the stream.....
I scheme, and when I sleep, I dream
And when I dream it's bad news for you
to avenge those we lost by crimes, undue
To put a stop to all of you.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 9:13 PM UTC
waiting in a white room with no furniture
the humming air conditioner
can’t even drown out my thoughts
waiting to go back to maryland
for a hyperbolic death sentence—
to meet with the wonderful hypocrites
who shaped my cynicism
and anxiety
to feast on the last meal
of failure.
waiting to hear back from potential employers
who hold my future in their hands
but prefer to let me stew
waiting for the tears to start falling
I can feel my eyes welling
my lungs lugging every last bit of air
to my heart as it pounds
like an urgent knock at the door
waiting alone
with just my thoughts.
waiting to see the friends
who never got out to see the world
to look at me with delight, hoping
soon I will re-join their ranks
as a mindless tractor mechanic or slurpee filler
waiting for the cheap bottle whisky
in my stomach to regurgitate
waiting for numbing conversations
about menial tasks and news
like the weather, or something else I can see in front of me.
waiting to be coma.
waiting to see my reflection—
or shadow.
waiting for paper and pen,
waiting for suicide by rhyme at the end.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 8:10 AM UTC
I believe in second chances, no matter who you are
You deserve a second chance to show your worth
If it weren't for second chances, we'd have never reached the stars
And we'd forever be stuck down here on this earth
A second chance is crucial when you're learning something new
It's the time you use to fix all your mistakes
You need that extra effort to do what you must do
And if you're injured in the process,.....them;s the breaks!
If it weren't for second chances, we'd all be stuck at home
Our employers would have sent us home to sit
They'd say that we are useless and we've no brains in our dome
And to put it to us nicely....we were ****
Second chances make us stronger, better than we were before
Because we learn a lesson when we fail
They teach us to get better, and to break on through that door
And we learn that we'll be stronger...just exhale
In sports a second chance keeps the game well within our reach
It stops it all from going all to hell
To give that extra effort, it's something you can't teach
And you just know you can do it, you can tell!
In love a second chance means we will not die alone
Unless of course you haven't got a clue
We play the cards we're given, we play the dice we've thrown
And the only one who can change it all is you.
I'm happier the second time and wouldn't change a thing
I know that I am better this time round
My reason is my Megan, with her I'm like a king
She tells me daily, and she doesn't make a sound
My second chance is special and I'm sure yours is too
She's my mulligan in this game of life
I'm sure you feel the same way about somebody who
Has relieved you of your lonliness and strife
Now, thanks to second chances we all can understand
That the first time out we all were just too young
But now, we're off the sidelines and we're marching with the band
And we're singing the best song we've ever sung.
So, please believe in second chances no matter who you are
You'll thank yourself for going that next mile
Without my second chance, I'd have never got this far
And with Megan I have learned again to smile.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 2:58 PM UTC
The Allusionists (Mary Winslow and Jeff Steir)
these two allusionists (not illusionists!)
composition is a criminal sentencing, a full-time sensitizing,
a never ending t/rue seeing, recalling, photography by word.
I am a career criminal. I know.
these two retranslate by digging into word wells and
well hid storage closets under stairs so that we,
the not-in-attendance may envision their sightings with
two hands clutching, comprehending almost better than
the one who is actually there.
for our version, the one they provide is,
coffee with cream,
scotch with a beer chaser, tea with honey,
all to be, sipped slow, so
the hot frost on my the chest, infiltrating nostrils,
Vaporub-spreads slow and easy, brainward.
the allusionists.
the habitual employers of this
specific filter,
(word weavers, I call them behind their backs),
weaving is not in my eternally planned skill set.
I do so admire their tapestries
that guilt alone demands tribute and obeisance
and this poor imitation.
I do so admire their tapestries.
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 11:12 AM UTC
(To JS/07/M/378/ This Marble Monument
Is Erected by the State)
He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a
saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every
way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it
cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Installment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war,
he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of
his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their
education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.
2.1k
President Trump.
We aware that wall you speak of with never happen.
Who gonna build it?
Your supporters.
When you look around at the sidewalks, hotel maid services and other forms of low level paying.
A majority of them are done by the Latinos.
Like many that picks the fruits.
And a great majority of employers are your race.
And when during business with businesses.
America's works off a competitive nature.
And that MEANS working with other nations.
Making America great sounds good to fools.
But than again, once wars kills many of their kids than your supporters will turn too.
They always do.
President Trump, first and foremost you must address yourself.
If know nothing about office the oval office.
Than will you fire yourself?
Cause i'm asking myself.
Is this real or imagine?
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
The scars will not go away.
They will itch.
Your scars will feel like someone is grinding glass in them.
The numb parts will stay numb.
They hurt to touch.
Shaving will never be the same.
Your fingers won't work properly.
The ones you didn’t take care of get worse. Skin sags.
The scars will not go away.
Deep cuts leak.
First-aid supplies are really expensive.
The scars will not go away.
Kids will ask what happened.
People will stare.
Employers will ask if you’re mentally stable enough to hold a job.
They will get sunburnt, and stand out more.
They define every outfit you choose to wear for the rest of your life.
They are the reason *** with the lights off is the only *** you’ll ever have.
The scars will not go away.
You never get used to seeing them,
But you never forget they are there.
People touch you and you flinch. Don’t touch me there, there, there or there.
You will feel disgusting, disgusting, disgusting for the rest of your life.
The scars do not go away.
They do not go away.
They will not go away.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 4:21 AM UTC
Daylight fades too quickly
and leaves you struggling like a dead fish
against a time limit you have no intention
of keeping or realizing, in even a small fashion.
The money runs out.
The money always runs out and
everyone is looking for a handout
no one wants to give.
Especially those who can afford it-
it's like a void;
a golden density not even light can escape.
Makes me wonder; "Is the money really power,
or is power just power,
and the hierarchy and patriarchy and system
just keep whatever stains in place, despite their incompetence?"
History seems to provide ample answers to the right questions;
Why does the day feel so short?
Why does retail labor feel like a pyramid scheme?
Why does work feel like prison?
Why are employers so scared of unions?
Whatever, right? Those ******* would give you an answer
after three separate commercial breaks and a survey.
Everyone views the person under their foot as less than human.
It's how we're able to procreate and sleep at night
[a night that comes quicker every day now].
A curtain over a birdcage; we're all just dozing off.
******* around.
Studying everyone else's face,
looking for a nervous twitch to decipher
whose bluffing,
believing we're doing swimmingly in our own ********
The next generation built on our corpses, secrets and lies.
Corpses, secrets, and lies.
Let the world burn if we can make it past daylight.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
At times I sit
Back and relax
from the daily disappointment
of another failed attempt
to make a milli
out of 2 greenbacks
and a shiny penny
so money i lack
due to employers
not callin a brotha back
"dont worry Wayne"
"i dont care about that"
"im really feelin you"
"i got yo back"
her name was Elaine
beautiful black woman
skinned the finest brown
kept my head off the ground
facing up to the sky
with all the confidence
of a grown *** man
till the week my luck
ran out like
our well ran dry
i was victim of nonsence
moms got word that
i smashed in the backseat
snatched back the keys
havent seen ol' girl since
lookin up to ask
what more can happen
i recieve a call
that put me on my ***
my one thang from
around the way
was seen at the mall
hugged up wit women
i put the phone down
cause im mad as hell
turned to the liquor
tilted the bottle
maybe i can find
that hidden message
pour up the brown
so i can sip
till i cant tell
this ********
aint just in my mind
Courvoisier or Hennessy
Remy Martin too
when i find my
next one thang
the brown got my back
when im in the groove
kissing the lips
of that beautiful child
born of kings and queens
of kingdoms not crack
workin a 9 to 5
not depending on
the next coke move
relieving her stress
while breaking that back
blast off at 9
cause her love
might taste so divine
scratch me up
then we goin till 5
i know i wont
be that 60 second man
and let her down
cause the brown got my back
i figured out my problem
just gotta lay that
brown **** down
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 4:37 AM UTC
I'm tired.
I don't sleep anymore.
I live a real bad dream.
Leave the light on when you close the door.
If I close my eyes
I might miss out on what I really need
and that's the opportunity
to really
succeed.
My girl is on me
wants me secretly to give up my dreams
My kids look up to me
and expect all of these great things.
Tell me why I do it?
Cause I got skillz,
or am I being foolish
thinking that my thoughts can make mills?
I see the world changing.
I don't wanna be left behind.
So I don't sleep
even when I do
finally close my eyes.
Call it what you want
Insomnia
sleep deprived...
but if I get the rest I need
my employers
will pass me by.
So I gotta stay up.
To stay ahead of the pain.
The moment I close my eyes
I'll get a tech
and foul out the game.
Stay tuned for the next verse.
It'll be uplifting.
It wasn't all that bad.
I'll show you.
I need no sympathy!
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
This week at work I received a Homeland Security form with a terse note that I had filled it out incorrectly - in 2003. But I had not filled it out at all; this was new form (already out of date by its own testimony) predicated on a Department of Justice form which I did complete correctly; it had simply expired.
Altho’ I obediently completed the form, I rendered part of the form (page 7 of 9) into not-really-a-poem, in lines of ten syllables:
I Attest That I Am
employment eligibility
verification department of home
land security u.s. citizen
ship and immigration services u
scis form i-9 omb
no. 1615-0047
expires 03/31/2016
start here. Read instructions carefully be
fore completing this form. The instructions
must be available during completion
of this form anti-discrimination
notice: it is illegal to discrim
inate against work-authorized indi
viduals. Employers cannot specify
which document(s) they will accept from an
employee. The refusal to hire an
individual because the docu
ment presented has a future expi
ration date may also constitute il
legal discrimination. Section 1.
Employee information and attest
ation (employees must complete and sign
section 1 of form i-9 no later than
the first day of employment, but not be
fore accepting a job offer). Last
name (family name) First name (given name) mid
dle initial other names used (if any)
address (street number and name) apt.
number city or town state zip code date
of birth (mm/dd/yyyy)
u.s. social security number
e-mail address telephone number I
am aware that federal law provides
for imprisonment and / or fines for false
statements or use of false documents in
connection with the completion of the
form. I attest, under penalty of
perjury, that I am (check one of the
following)…
I Attest That I Am
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC
This isn't so much a literary write
as a reflection
upon a ****** up reality
of our society:
I found a website
that lets employees rate their employers,
and so, naturally, I decided to look up Wal Mart,
just for fun.
You can read all the good things
about opportunity and comfort
but none of the bad things
about corruption, unethical treatment,
or treatment of workers as disposable
unless you're signed in to Facebook:
http://www.glassdoor.com/Reviews/Walmart-Stores-Company-Reviews-E715_P11.htm?sort.sortType=OR&sort.ascending;=true
I think that's kind of funny,
in a weird, omnipresent
big-brother kind of way.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 9:29 PM UTC
I open the door for you
To be perceived as polite.
I don't brag because
Humility buys prestige.
I've earned virtue.
Why lie when instead I
Can wear the truth
As an honorary badge?
I donate portions of my wealth
To charitable organizations, so that
Everyone will deem me a great person.
I've earned virtue.
I obey all of the commandments
To receive God's unconditional love.
I observe each and every precept,
Climbing a ladder towards the sage's status.
I've earned virtue.
I serve the community to woo
Universities and potential employers.
I'm a law abiding citizen
Because I fear imprisonment.
I've earned virtue.
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
Under the sun kissed moonlight
Which dapples the streets below,
A man leaves his life time employment
To go forth to his new temporary job.
Along the streets he lurked,
Like a thief in the night
Walking not by faith,
But instead by his sight.
Across the city 9 hours before dawn
He evades any face time
To avoid any wasted time
For he cannot be late,
Not on this date.
Under coincidental circumstances
He found this new job,
Around a few drinks,
A clever little minx.
Illumination by the queen of the night
Stolen by the king of the day,
Breathing life into this forbidden foray
A pillaging of the heart.
At the doors of his temporary career
Intentions in his mind much too clear.
Reaching inside the institution
Risking himself with no safety of income.
Into the office he put himself,
His presence made known
More than qualified
For his personal assistance.
The moon stares within the confines
Of this deep, seedy establishment.
Shining light on the dark proceedings
Which are about to proceed into the night.
Ready to work for his promotion,
Changing into his work attire,
Takes his seat in the workplace,
Planning to come second in this work race.
Forgetting his full time employers face
Moonlighting,
Under the moon light.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC
Happiness?
Money?
It's hard to find a
Common ground.
Hard to find
Balance
On a line so thin.
Precariously
Teetering,
Bound to fall on
One side, or
The other.
Slave for hours
Days
Weeks
Years.
For what?
Money.
Or, you will fall
On the side of
Happiness.
Do what you
Dream.
However, for
Most of us,
That doesn't include
An income.
Maybe you like
Piercings,
Tattoos,
Hair dye.
Employers don't.
You are a
Circle, a
Triangle, a
Hexagon,
Trying to get to
The work force
Where only
Squares
Are welcome.
As much as
You want to
Remain true to yourself,
You change.
Take out your
Piercings,
Hide your
Tattoos,
Put your crazy
Hair dye
Back on the shelf
For now.
Redrawing yourself
Into that
Square
Society requires you
to be.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 4:00 PM UTC
Privilege
I have it,
supposedly,
unannounced
to me.
I was born,
brown hair,
green eyes,
fair skin,
poor
and hungry.
But oh so privileged.
To speak up in whatever company I choose,
To walk late at night with a hoodie pulled down, just over my eyes
To strive
achieve
succeed
without others being surprised
I know no threat
from cops,
employers,
or admissions advisors.
I see no intimidation
from statistics,
labels,
or slurs.
I have the privilege
of being completely unaware
of my own
privilege
I'll use it,
hopefully,
for everyone
you'll see.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC