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"employment" poems
What is your Quantity? Are you large or extra large? What is your Quality? Is It Unique or Is It blick? Okay now, I let you talk it's my turn to evoke the york Blue Earth's my birth place, where I breathe and I Walk; Black is my Colour, Judge me by my dream not my Skin Everybody's fighting for Equality, why live life in poverty? Women want Equality so much, but they forget that they blame Eve for their Sins What's Sad is I fear Equality will never be attained Awaiting someone to lead the way When we can construct our own road each day Ask about Equality? They Trees need Equality! and They Waters need Equality! and They Animals need Equality! But all we see is Disequality! We see people to be the staring roles of life but what are you without a tree? or water? or the animals? no lie, Women are to die for! but Equality shouldn't just be based on just Women Equality Speaks for Everything Work, Employment, Creed, Tribe, Race and all that is on earth's lovely face Equality, Let us solve this Inequality!
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Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 8:53 AM UTC
Equality
Lost is the African pride Gone are those who could ride the tide Left are those who drown beneath the wave Prone to dehumanization because of greed I see burning buildings Mutilated bodies Escalating violence And social unrest Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu Left is a society deprived of its integrity Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society Is the real Africa lost to antiquity? Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life. A decent life earned through decadence Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment? Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard? I am ashamed of the profanity we breed It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland. It’s not who they are. It’s not who we are It’s not who you are It’s not who I am Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade The Africa that has survived apartheid The Africa that has survived colonization The Africa that is surviving westernization We don’t fight for employment We create employment We don’t breed resentment We translate sentiments Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s behave like men not animals Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s stand like men immortal The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa Animosity is not our portion
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
The Spirit Of Ubuntu
Lost is the African pride Gone are those who could ride the tide Left are those who drown beneath the wave Prone to dehumanization because of greed I see burning buildings Mutilated bodies Escalating violence And social unrest Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu Left is a society deprived of its integrity Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society Is the real Africa lost to antiquity? Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life. A decent life earned through decadence Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment? Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard? I am ashamed of the profanity we breed It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland. It’s not who they are. It’s not who we are It’s not who you are It’s not who I am Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade The Africa that has survived apartheid The Africa that has survived colonization The Africa that is surviving westernization We don’t fight for employment We create employment We don’t breed resentment We translate sentiments Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s behave like men not animals Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu And let’s stand like men immortal The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa Animosity is not our portion
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40
complexity bias how you love to criticize my poems as too long and overly complex poor me, I’m no genius, don’t prosper by exploiting unrecognized simplicities, rather deconstruct the intricate complexities that I flatter myself are the me-sinews Writing is a **** temptation - we focus on the 10% that is complex and ignore the easy 90% perhaps this once I will surrender my bare bones put aside the rich, satisfying of cave diving, urban spelunking word caressing tongue verbiage rich tapestry exploring - give you the plane of plain where nestles my destiny: nesting near motionless where the couch is my kingdom and cold cereal is easily digested and there are no consequences I am a member of a discriminated-against minority we have no charismatic leader, no marchers anywhere, and government programs say hey you’re free white and twenty one plus, get the crap out of our faces,  you useless piece of rhymes with **** and includes dirt, though I shower twice a day to keep myself occupied 25 years old, a high school dropout, of course I’m white, my occupation is playing video games and making sure my supply of opioids is adequate in these great United States where I was born there are fewer jobs than none that my application survives a first glance discardation, and now my disability preempts any demand to pretend there is gainful employment in store in my future this reductio ad absurdum is a technique to expose the fallacy, ah what’s that you say no interest in hanging about, on your way out, of course, of course, we are the wrong flavor of downtrodden my life is simple - simplistic in its a chaotic entropic way, order slowly declines into disorder my rituals are a fight against slip sliding down, falling off the the Herzog continuums and the poems are desperate hand holds to prevent my going, gone under so forgive me if I tax you without possessing not the requisite taxing authority you hone in on the obvious disparities and my contradictions resenting my sending you this bill of extravagant length compose with me and a mean will be located and to sleep I go, perhaps to undress my dreams and explicate the wealthy multiples of complexity in the simplicity of a junkies life
0
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
complexity bias of a ******
complexity bias how you love to criticize my poems as too long and overly complex poor me, I’m no genius, don’t prosper by exploiting unrecognized simplicities, rather deconstruct the intricate complexities that I flatter myself are the me-sinews Writing is a **** temptation - we focus on the 10% that is complex and ignore the easy 90% perhaps this once I will surrender my bare bones put aside the rich, satisfying of cave diving, urban spelunking word caressing tongue verbiage rich tapestry exploring - give you the plane of plain where nestles my destiny: nesting near motionless where the couch is my kingdom and cold cereal is easily digested and there are no consequences I am a member of a discriminated-against minority we have no charismatic leader, no marchers anywhere, and government programs say hey you’re free white and twenty one plus, get the crap out of our faces,  you useless piece of rhymes with **** and includes dirt, though I shower twice a day to keep myself occupied 25 years old, a high school dropout, of course I’m white, my occupation is playing video games and making sure my supply of opioids is adequate in these great United States where I was born there are fewer jobs than none that my application survives a first glance discardation, and now my disability preempts any demand to pretend there is gainful employment in store in my future this reductio ad absurdum is a technique to expose the fallacy, ah what’s that you say no interest in hanging about, on your way out, of course, of course, we are the wrong flavor of downtrodden my life is simple - simplistic in its a chaotic entropic way, order slowly declines into disorder my rituals are a fight against slip sliding down, falling off the the Herzog continuums and the poems are desperate hand holds to prevent my going, gone under so forgive me if I tax you without possessing not the requisite taxing authority you hone in on the obvious disparities and my contradictions resenting my sending you this bill of extravagant length compose with me and a mean will be located and to sleep I go, perhaps to undress my dreams and explicate the wealthy multiples of complexity in the simplicity of a junkies life
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41
Shopping outfashioned hunting and gathering, Processed beats fresh, Groceries replaced fruit trees, Malls superceded forests, Churches outnumbered temples, Countries dissolved to territories, Places devolved to areas, Paths broke down into highways, Commodity converted to currency, Laborers submit to machinery, Masters engage in humbug, Apprentices reduced to students, Knowledge downgraded to education, And education is deducted to a show of grades, While schools are the stages, And the corporate world is the bigger runway, With work slumped to employment, Wisdom demoted to profession, Where in jobs are the only future, Careers are the only success, Clicking and pressing buttons are skills, Computers are correspondent to brains, Information refers to news reports, Intelligence means up-to-dateness, Browsing is preferable to reading, Studying is in demand more than learning, Viewing things flashed on screens yields awareness, Transportation is to traveling, As buying is to the three basic needs, And needs embody worldly possessions, Worldly possessions define happiness, Happiness is due to selfishness, Selfishness is traced to the lack of love, The lack of love draws from the lack of faith, Because faith stands for religion, And religion stands for membership, Where politicians are the gods, Celebrities are the preachers, And the preachers are the enemies, While networking is equal to friendship, And connection equates to communication, Experiences require photos, Memories necessitate uploading, Souvenirs can be downloaded, Smartphones are substitute to pets, Gadgets are toys, Holding controllers is playing, Watching TV is exploring the great outdoors, Internet is recreation, And technology is a way of life; While humans are scientists, Nature is a guinea pig, And the earth is a laboratory, Where prices are misidentified for worth, Processes are miscalculated as progress, Impoverishment is confused with improvement, And getting more is mistaken as getting better; And then we wonder why Homes have become houses, Family members have become boarders, Nations are separate species Composed of tired and hungry citizens, Children are monsters Who are biochemically rascals, Teenagers are zombies Whose adventures lead to delinquency, Adults are robots Who just clang when touched, And life is not so simple As how it is said to be.
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 5:40 AM UTC
The Nth Trial-and-error
Shopping outfashioned hunting and gathering, Processed beats fresh, Groceries replaced fruit trees, Malls superceded forests, Churches outnumbered temples, Countries dissolved to territories, Places devolved to areas, Paths broke down into highways, Commodity converted to currency, Laborers submit to machinery, Masters engage in humbug, Apprentices reduced to students, Knowledge downgraded to education, And education is deducted to a show of grades, While schools are the stages, And the corporate world is the bigger runway, With work slumped to employment, Wisdom demoted to profession, Where in jobs are the only future, Careers are the only success, Clicking and pressing buttons are skills, Computers are correspondent to brains, Information refers to news reports, Intelligence means up-to-dateness, Browsing is preferable to reading, Studying is in demand more than learning, Viewing things flashed on screens yields awareness, Transportation is to traveling, As buying is to the three basic needs, And needs embody worldly possessions, Worldly possessions define happiness, Happiness is due to selfishness, Selfishness is traced to the lack of love, The lack of love draws from the lack of faith, Because faith stands for religion, And religion stands for membership, Where politicians are the gods, Celebrities are the preachers, And the preachers are the enemies, While networking is equal to friendship, And connection equates to communication, Experiences require photos, Memories necessitate uploading, Souvenirs can be downloaded, Smartphones are substitute to pets, Gadgets are toys, Holding controllers is playing, Watching TV is exploring the great outdoors, Internet is recreation, And technology is a way of life; While humans are scientists, Nature is a guinea pig, And the earth is a laboratory, Where prices are misidentified for worth, Processes are miscalculated as progress, Impoverishment is confused with improvement, And getting more is mistaken as getting better; And then we wonder why Homes have become houses, Family members have become boarders, Nations are separate species Composed of tired and hungry citizens, Children are monsters Who are biochemically rascals, Teenagers are zombies Whose adventures lead to delinquency, Adults are robots Who just clang when touched, And life is not so simple As how it is said to be.
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70
You must register with an employment agency, he said through a muffled yawn, to defer your studnet loan payments for the next six months. But don't worry, he continued, clearing his throat and sipping what I presumed was stale coffee, you don't have to accept any jobs that you're offered.
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
Sallie Mae Calling
Earth is my bedroom and toilet; an empty cup, my self employment Days of empty stomach churning, a forced sermon at "Sunday Breakfast" Fast-food places are my kitchens; Shelters,my free hotels and free meals Police are my nemesis; human rights, a foreign fantasy Jail cells are my places for philosophical, contemplated thought Filth is my every day attire; alertness, my only protection Weather is my lover or enemy; cold empty stares, my other human contacts Loneliness is my constant companion New horizons are never sought by this man-of-no-land ,
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Man-Of-No-Land
I'm the paper man I witnessed you drop your papers And refused to help Because I'm a rolling paper I'm never stationary When I float in paper planes My life starts tearing When your presence equals pain For I only saw you With my paper view We couldn't be two When you're pay-per-view I live a paper life When the date never leaves the calendar And people enjoy the satisfaction of cutting me Like I'm construction paper So I build to block them away My face becomes paper mache Searching for another way I found relief in a bottle in a paper bag It wasn't long until I saw the red flags In the government serving me my papers Even though I denounced them as takers They kept pushing paper My life regimented by municipalities Burying me in paperwork Like the employment I attained To make my life spill off the page And bleed into your's Otherwise Life's a paper chore And the pirates keep stealing papyrus That's alright I've become the paper King Midas
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 5:10 AM UTC
Paper
From the womb we are taught to idealize the prospect of employment...and everything that comes after is done in attempt to attain a job All the years of school...the pre-job jobs...the extra curricular activities that sparkle like a diamond among shattered glass or dreams on a CV because employed is secure... employed is safe... employed is smart... employed is successful Your mom was hoping you would be an accountant like her but daddy thought you'd be a better scientist...so they made you do everything and by the time you realized that you didn't want to do any of those things...you had spread yourself so thin that the wind carried you in every direction and non of them was right... That didn't really matter as long as you made enough to live in comfort...luxury is like the coin you find under your pillow in return for your fallen tooth...except instead of teeth it's your dreams that you have to trade in... Because unemployed is unstable Unemployed is without purpose Unemployed is poor Unemployed is a failure So it doesn't really matter what you are...just as long as you're not unemployed.
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Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 2:47 PM UTC
unemployment
I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; Her coat is of the tabby kind, with tiger stripes and leopard spots. All day she sits upon the stair or on the steps or on the mat; She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done, Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun. And when all the family’s in bed and asleep, She tucks up her skirts to the basement to creep. She is deeply concerned with the ways of the mice— Their behaviour’s not good and their manners not nice; So when she has got them lined up on the matting, She teachs them music, crocheting and tatting. I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; Her equal would be hard to find, she likes the warm and sunny spots. All day she sits beside the hearth or on the bed or on my hat: She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done, Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun. As she finds that the mice will not ever keep quiet, She is sure it is due to irregular diet; And believing that nothing is done without trying, She sets right to work with her baking and frying. She makes them a mouse—cake of bread and dried peas, And a beautiful fry of lean bacon and cheese. I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; The curtain-cord she likes to wind, and tie it into sailor-knots. She sits upon the window-sill, or anything that’s smooth and flat: She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done, Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun. She thinks that the cockroaches just need employment To prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment. So she’s formed, from that lot of disorderly louts, A troop of well-disciplined helpful boy-scouts, With a purpose in life and a good deed to do— And she’s even created a Beetles’ Tattoo. So for Old Gumbie Cats let us now give three cheers— On whom well-ordered households depend, it appears.
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4.2k
The Old Gumbie Cat
I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; Her coat is of the tabby kind, with tiger stripes and leopard spots. All day she sits upon the stair or on the steps or on the mat; She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done, Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun. And when all the family’s in bed and asleep, She tucks up her skirts to the basement to creep. She is deeply concerned with the ways of the mice— Their behaviour’s not good and their manners not nice; So when she has got them lined up on the matting, She teachs them music, crocheting and tatting. I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; Her equal would be hard to find, she likes the warm and sunny spots. All day she sits beside the hearth or on the bed or on my hat: She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done, Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun. As she finds that the mice will not ever keep quiet, She is sure it is due to irregular diet; And believing that nothing is done without trying, She sets right to work with her baking and frying. She makes them a mouse—cake of bread and dried peas, And a beautiful fry of lean bacon and cheese. I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; The curtain-cord she likes to wind, and tie it into sailor-knots. She sits upon the window-sill, or anything that’s smooth and flat: She sits and sits and sits and sits—and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat! But when the day’s hustle and bustle is done, Then the Gumbie Cat’s work is but hardly begun. She thinks that the cockroaches just need employment To prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment. So she’s formed, from that lot of disorderly louts, A troop of well-disciplined helpful boy-scouts, With a purpose in life and a good deed to do— And she’s even created a Beetles’ Tattoo. So for Old Gumbie Cats let us now give three cheers— On whom well-ordered households depend, it appears.
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38
No water tastes sweeter than that sip in the desert No touch is finer than that hand on the shoulder when encased in loneliness. No paycheck more abundant than following employment deprivation. No buffet more filling than that first bite in hunger. No more wondrous serenity than when the pain finally goes away from your mouth your back your head your knees your gut your mind. No idea more stimulating to a mind so hungry than a poem which catches the moment so perfectly. No love more appreciated than when awash in self judgement No praise more received than when lost in condemnation. No warmth more soothing than when lost in the snow. No light so bright as that first sunlight when lost in the demons of one's night. No sensation so pure as an open heart after numbness descends Compassion in hatred A laugh when joyless. A lover's kiss after betrayal A loving look after the cold white wall A loving word after tense stone silence. No embrace more healing than when you come home to me. The receding waters after the tsunami The stillness after the earthquake. The peace after the warfare. The spring flowers after the winter The coolness of fall after the blistering summer's heat. The wood stove so warm when the house is so cold. No bed so content No home so sweet after being stuck out on the streets. Duality Reality Without our joys no sorrow Without our sorrows no joy.
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
Duality Reality
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.
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Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
History Has Shown
Women Rising: Five Predictions for Women in the 2012 Workplace In Society 3.0, Dr. Wilen-Daugenti presents a compelling case for how women’s prospects in business are on the rise. Based on her research at Apollo Research Institute, she predicts that in 2012, women in the workplace will reach the following milestones: 1. More women will become leaders in the workplace. In 2012, 18 women will be running Fortune 500 companies—the highest number yet. This confirms a rising trend of women’s corporate leadership. The U.S. Government Accountability Office reported that in 2009, 40% of managers in the workforce were women. In 2010, women held 15.7% of board seats at Fortune 500 companies. 2. Women-owned firms will drive job creation and employment. Women business owners employ 35% more people than all the Fortune 500 companies combined. Women own 10.1 million U.S. firms, employing more than 13 million people and generating $1.9 trillion in sales as of 2008. 3. Women will obtain higher education in greater numbers. Women now earn more degrees than men, with graduates from all ethnic, racial, and socioeconomic groups racing past men in rates of completing programs of study. Women aged 25 to 34 are more likely to have a college degree and are more likely than men to go to graduate school. By 2012, women are expected to earn 60% of bachelor’s degrees, 63% of master’s degrees, and 54% of doctoral and professional degrees.
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Women On The Rise
Tonight I stayed at work until 7:00. It was dark when I locked the front doors. Winter approaches again, soon the great coat huddled like a rug around me. The streets were active as usual, block residents hanging out front steps. I said goodnight to Nydian Figueroa, after school counselor. I bought a beer at the deli on Third Ave. from the Arab owner. He’s a bit upset about the bottle bill. Collecting bottles from small groceries could be a useful youth employment enterprise. I walked down Fifth along the park in the dark drinking my beer and looking at women. I need a good **** badly. I tried to decide whether to go to the movies, a Hopi film Howard recommended, or just go home, watch tv and light a candle. Maybe I’d meet someone at the film. Can I handle the malady of going home tonight? If I die, I die alone. I turned west toward the subway past the museum, through the park. I can’t look at the myriad lights in buildings large enough to hold a small town. It increases my anxiety and anonymity to the breaking point. I hoped to be mugged, for the human contact. Two big guys looked me over, but I lowered my center of gravity and they passed quietly. Survival proves I am alive. The white pines in this corner of the park hold a cool, earthy air reminding me of coming winter, that mortality is restful, of the black bear and swollen river I saw 500 miles away and only one day ago.
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Jul 6, 2022
Jul 6, 2022 at 6:30 AM UTC
Life Out of Balance
On April 10th, 1846 on the ship Devonshire from Liverpool, one Catherine McCarty, age 17 arrived in New York during times most cruel. She made this long journey to escape the famine occurring in her native Ireland. We don't know if she arrived alone or with family or whether she was married or accompanied with a boyfriend. The passenger arrival manifest has her listed a servant as the occupation she did. Based only on her age and her name, many historians have speculated and proclaimed that she's the mother of BILLY the Kid. Billy's mother died on September 16th in the year of 1874. She was 45 years old according to her obituary. Combine the above information and we know one thing for sure. Immigrant Catherine shared the same age and name as did the true mother of Billy. It seems that due to health reasons, Catherine McCarty's life had gone onto searching for dryer climate out west as a single mother of two. One of her sons would live a full life and then fade into obscurity. Her other son would die very young and become one of the greatest legends to ever be. No one knows anything about the boys' father or whether they shared the same one. Did he/they die or abandon the family? Your guess is as good as anyone's. Catherine was a strong, independent, gregarious lass whom everyone seemed to like and enjoy very dearly. She earned a living selling baked goods to customers she had amassed and by also doing much of the neighborhood's ***** laundry. She also dabbled in real estate, purchasing what little property she could afford, and to earn extra income she'd often open the door to her home and welcome all those willing to pay room and board. It was clearly shown that she could take on the responsibility alone, as far as providing and caring for her boys. When she wasn't earning employment, she'd occasionally indulge in the enjoyment that every good, loving mother enjoys. After schooling her children, she'd take them to local dances where she was known to be one of the grandest dancers on the dance floor, but of all the dance partners she'd dance with there was always one she could never resist and he'd want to dance with her more and more. "Of all my dance partners," she told him one night, "you are my favorite one." To see her lovingly gaze into his eyes, it certainly would come as no surprise to learn that William Henry was Catherine McCarty's favored son. To Be Continued
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Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 4:47 PM UTC
04. Catherine McCarty
On April 10th, 1846 on the ship Devonshire from Liverpool, one Catherine McCarty, age 17 arrived in New York during times most cruel. She made this long journey to escape the famine occurring in her native Ireland. We don't know if she arrived alone or with family or whether she was married or accompanied with a boyfriend. The passenger arrival manifest has her listed a servant as the occupation she did. Based only on her age and her name, many historians have speculated and proclaimed that she's the mother of BILLY the Kid. Billy's mother died on September 16th in the year of 1874. She was 45 years old according to her obituary. Combine the above information and we know one thing for sure. Immigrant Catherine shared the same age and name as did the true mother of Billy. It seems that due to health reasons, Catherine McCarty's life had gone onto searching for dryer climate out west as a single mother of two. One of her sons would live a full life and then fade into obscurity. Her other son would die very young and become one of the greatest legends to ever be. No one knows anything about the boys' father or whether they shared the same one. Did he/they die or abandon the family? Your guess is as good as anyone's. Catherine was a strong, independent, gregarious lass whom everyone seemed to like and enjoy very dearly. She earned a living selling baked goods to customers she had amassed and by also doing much of the neighborhood's ***** laundry. She also dabbled in real estate, purchasing what little property she could afford, and to earn extra income she'd often open the door to her home and welcome all those willing to pay room and board. It was clearly shown that she could take on the responsibility alone, as far as providing and caring for her boys. When she wasn't earning employment, she'd occasionally indulge in the enjoyment that every good, loving mother enjoys. After schooling her children, she'd take them to local dances where she was known to be one of the grandest dancers on the dance floor, but of all the dance partners she'd dance with there was always one she could never resist and he'd want to dance with her more and more. "Of all my dance partners," she told him one night, "you are my favorite one." To see her lovingly gaze into his eyes, it certainly would come as no surprise to learn that William Henry was Catherine McCarty's favored son. To Be Continued
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38
Don't panic at all Don't bother at all What if the buildings are Damaged dangerously? What if all the walls Are full of cracks Things can be easily controlled And you have enough money So don't panic at all Don't bother at all Use your money with caution Apply your mind, use your money Get all the walls painted With very nice painting Paintings of the folks Paintings of the modern era Paintings of saints and heroes Painting of beautiful landscapes Raise slogans here and there Unfurl flags and sing the anthem What if the rivers are di*ty? Only raise awareness campaigns Put hoardings and banners everywhere Do nothing else, but show everything Just adopt these cheap tactics You can save lot of wealth And can spent on yourself Or can buy more votes with it Paint the bark of all the trees Break all the records of shame Create a new fake history Make silly new records What if there is poverty Just make monuments for god And ask people to pray there God is there to listen the prayer What if there is unemployment Ask your businessmen friends To start training centres and train the youth And make money, money and money Leave the trained youth as they were Ask them to create employment for self Call it self-employment, call it freedom Ask them to rejoice this freedom Open new schools and colleges But don't appoint staff in teachers Collect hefty amount of fees Spent that fees on yourself Also spent some to collect votes Manage the peoples Manage the machines Manage history, manage geography Manage the media, manage the news Spread everywhere, fake news If you do, what I have said You will be the king again
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Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
Formula to Be King Again
Don't panic at all Don't bother at all What if the buildings are Damaged dangerously? What if all the walls Are full of cracks Things can be easily controlled And you have enough money So don't panic at all Don't bother at all Use your money with caution Apply your mind, use your money Get all the walls painted With very nice painting Paintings of the folks Paintings of the modern era Paintings of saints and heroes Painting of beautiful landscapes Raise slogans here and there Unfurl flags and sing the anthem What if the rivers are di*ty? Only raise awareness campaigns Put hoardings and banners everywhere Do nothing else, but show everything Just adopt these cheap tactics You can save lot of wealth And can spent on yourself Or can buy more votes with it Paint the bark of all the trees Break all the records of shame Create a new fake history Make silly new records What if there is poverty Just make monuments for god And ask people to pray there God is there to listen the prayer What if there is unemployment Ask your businessmen friends To start training centres and train the youth And make money, money and money Leave the trained youth as they were Ask them to create employment for self Call it self-employment, call it freedom Ask them to rejoice this freedom Open new schools and colleges But don't appoint staff in teachers Collect hefty amount of fees Spent that fees on yourself Also spent some to collect votes Manage the peoples Manage the machines Manage history, manage geography Manage the media, manage the news Spread everywhere, fake news If you do, what I have said You will be the king again
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56
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
A strange kind of intrusive ambiance; voices in several languages, forced laughter, technological functioning; human activity intermarried with machines. The volume rising perfectly in sync with my cortisol levels, I interrogate  my past for signs of the path that led me here; it remains blurred. I did not dream of working in customer service; but here I am regardless, moments of my life that I will never ponder again; a cascade of  the present moment repeating as long as my employment contract exists. An event-less horizon, memories are stillborn here and true ingenuity stifled. There is much and nothing that has led me here. It is hard not to feel like a horse bred for performance in this place; everything is monitored, quantified, reviewed and collaborated. Performance reports produced with the fervor of medieval scholars translating the bible.  I look to the sky, what else is there to do; only to see smoke alarms and aesthetically neutral lighting arrangements. There is art work on the walls, but is generic, created to defy analysis. The colouring of the walls is chosen to exude a neutral sort of trendiness; on brand for the overarching corporate image.
0
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 7:32 AM UTC
Office
The sign sun stains in the duct taped window advertising gainful employment in a part time pay by the hour washer deryer upstairs hair stylist crumbling 1960s salon. Chipped white washed paint draws in the custom customers offering permanates in every style and yesterday's hair of tomorrow "put it on today don't worry about it till tomorrow! The doors open to a bell and hairspray smell, something that might catch fire in a spark or cancer the lungs. The smock and name tag carry home the hairspray scent and ghost in store radio fades the ears from sleep. The bed reminds you of the pay check though so you push it all aside. Help wanted wanted help to get out of the make me want to die lifestyle
0
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
Help wanted (wanted help)
The world's out of order My life is a mess I need a weekend of chillin' To help decompress A few days of football And drinks and good friends Will fix up my mood And get this blackness to end My wife's with another And my car died en route To my place of employment So, I got the boot The dog found a new friend he met up with a skunk And what's left of my house Has a wonderful funk I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache Even though it's still only Friday I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day My ex called this morning Said our daughters in jail And she has no money to help pay the bail That black cloud of dismal Still over my head I should have rolled over And stayed home in bed They say your problems happen in threes Multiply that by five And it happened to me So it's time to move on Sit and chill for a while Forget all the crap And just sit, drink, and smile I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache Even though it's still only Friday I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day
0
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 7:23 PM UTC
Working on Sunday's Headache on Friday
What tick people off? When you dealing with the public. It might be the attitudes you find. Cutomer service, is at the top of many people minds. It like leaving respect for others behind. Manners seem to be eliminated. Whether its in the employment world. The way you treat others means they will return. Because, if it negative in anyway. Your reputation will be burned. Oh, yes. Treat your clients like your boss. You know. You're not trying to lose your job. Now, if you're hard headed. Then customer service is a losing cause. Saying, a pleasant greeting don't hurt you at all. But you find many that can't speak it one bit. These are the folks creating havoc. Remember, customers don't forget. They remember you more than you realize.
0
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 8:05 AM UTC
Customer Service
Alexander k Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) The most misused natural resource is animal emotion Animal jelousy, animal love, animal happiness, animal libido, Animal compassion, animal grief, animal ogle, animal *** Animal ego, animal fear or stampede, but animal anger utmost It is a resource of value and virtue if used in prudence Least vicious off all lest ghoulish natural disposition Whose exemplification follows below in juxtaposition; Out of anger a human animal kills Revenges in full feat of anger Causing accidents and damages In employment of anger to uphold ego A snake will not bite until ignited to anger But in its calm state it’s an agent of ecological peace Lioness is herbivorous in their truce but irascibly carnivorous Buffaloes only crash if catapulted by anger But romantically crazy in the emotional bliss Man is fountain of peaceful jealousy Man is cradle of venerative bigotry Man is a well of murderous love Humanity engendered is matchless ocean Of cantankerous infatuation crushing for doable And non-doables, deservation of pity, All these natural ornamentations That echo vicious virtues of man Are protégés of perfected anger.
0
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
animal anger
Through the smoke, **** and ***** A parking fine, ***** on it. The most horrid sight, we’re used to it, right? The capital’s disgusting and we’re ****** Lengthy ques for employment, Assorted drugs for enjoyment, Our bank account’s bust, believe it we’re ****** The government won’t even lend a hand. Will it be Lidl or Aldi? Wetherspoons, cheap and rowdy. An overdraft to, purchase more ***** Fracking makes us hate you more, it’s true. Unpunctual trains, privatisation. It’s ******* cold at the station. Elite middle class, this country’s a farce, Don’t even get me started on the EU. Chicken wings and pollution, Private health care – THAT’S THE SOLUTION! Increased licence fees, no money for tea, Five more years of Cameron and we’re *******
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
Wonderland?
I know that isn't how my grandmother would want me to remember her. Hell, the last time you saw me, I was fifteen pounds heavier, unkempt, and I was wearing that awful, low cut v-neck that made my chest appear a bit too supple. Wish you didn't remember me that way. But you do. But I do. You can't redact the past. Believe me. I used up every black marker in Oklahoma County trying. You're dating a chef. By your lovely description, I could see the tendrils of spiraling capellini. Smell the buttered ciabatta. Were there candles? Did you whisper over the wine glasses? I hope there were candles. Cinnamon candles. I actually cooked last night. Cajun tilapia and wild rice. Easing back into it. I've been living off canned vegetables for two months. Peas and carrots mostly. I'm going to assume if you and I shared this conversation in person, at this juncture you would whisper over wine glass, what was the occasion? Heather called last night. The dancer. She needed a place to sleep. I guess her Craigslist roommates, those two shifty-eyed boys from Nevada, bailed on the 30th of September and the rent came due on the first of October. She hadn't paid it. Evicted. For a night, my room was adorned in all manner of frilly things and five pairs of heels. She left everything else in her car. She explained the decorations as proof of employment. Don't worry. I didn't go there. Though, she thought I would too. After staring over her head at the beige wall behind her for two hours with my *** hanging off my twin-sized bed -- her lying in the middle -- I tried to move her to the east. She took it as an advance. "I'm not on birth control and I don't want a relationship," she said. Are any soft women left?
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 1:49 AM UTC
A Letter to Anna, 18 Oct. 2012
I know that isn't how my grandmother would want me to remember her. Hell, the last time you saw me, I was fifteen pounds heavier, unkempt, and I was wearing that awful, low cut v-neck that made my chest appear a bit too supple. Wish you didn't remember me that way. But you do. But I do. You can't redact the past. Believe me. I used up every black marker in Oklahoma County trying. You're dating a chef. By your lovely description, I could see the tendrils of spiraling capellini. Smell the buttered ciabatta. Were there candles? Did you whisper over the wine glasses? I hope there were candles. Cinnamon candles. I actually cooked last night. Cajun tilapia and wild rice. Easing back into it. I've been living off canned vegetables for two months. Peas and carrots mostly. I'm going to assume if you and I shared this conversation in person, at this juncture you would whisper over wine glass, what was the occasion? Heather called last night. The dancer. She needed a place to sleep. I guess her Craigslist roommates, those two shifty-eyed boys from Nevada, bailed on the 30th of September and the rent came due on the first of October. She hadn't paid it. Evicted. For a night, my room was adorned in all manner of frilly things and five pairs of heels. She left everything else in her car. She explained the decorations as proof of employment. Don't worry. I didn't go there. Though, she thought I would too. After staring over her head at the beige wall behind her for two hours with my *** hanging off my twin-sized bed -- her lying in the middle -- I tried to move her to the east. She took it as an advance. "I'm not on birth control and I don't want a relationship," she said. Are any soft women left?
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5
Consumer Culture makes me sick, it burns like acid contained in coffee cups the size of your heart exploding. Music that will **** your ears for only a buck because it is a song shaped by greed alongside factories, with smoke stacks acting as sploof tubes, covering the smell of life created just to be killed. They have innocent eyes an organism giving away its only truth for convenience, for simplicity **** your fast food, **** your jellybean president. Employment is conscription to join on the losing side in the war on your time and mind, The Double Bind. You ought to love your country but do you? You ought to compete, go for the win **** your friends, get to the top. Do you know what the prize is? One morning you wake up and find that your game was a farce and you aren't what you really are but what you could of been. Defend your limits. For we are waterfalls, spinning wheels of imagination shaping clay with organic inspirations planting ideas in the fertile unconsciousness Don't form beliefs, form a question. Understand we are ice-9 collectively, we are the watering-system We are the true god through experience mystic disbanded stars that are the galaxies. Properties of our composition suggests that, you better let this water flow, because if you don't a world full of love would love to strike you down making you coo and swoon over the symbols of a dream, the beautiful sunflower riding a bike, hitting a hacky sack perfectly at the end of the day a cup beckons inscribed with your name are you just going to sit and stare at it?
0
Apr 19, 2011
Apr 19, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
Cult
Consumer Culture makes me sick, it burns like acid contained in coffee cups the size of your heart exploding. Music that will **** your ears for only a buck because it is a song shaped by greed alongside factories, with smoke stacks acting as sploof tubes, covering the smell of life created just to be killed. They have innocent eyes an organism giving away its only truth for convenience, for simplicity **** your fast food, **** your jellybean president. Employment is conscription to join on the losing side in the war on your time and mind, The Double Bind. You ought to love your country but do you? You ought to compete, go for the win **** your friends, get to the top. Do you know what the prize is? One morning you wake up and find that your game was a farce and you aren't what you really are but what you could of been. Defend your limits. For we are waterfalls, spinning wheels of imagination shaping clay with organic inspirations planting ideas in the fertile unconsciousness Don't form beliefs, form a question. Understand we are ice-9 collectively, we are the watering-system We are the true god through experience mystic disbanded stars that are the galaxies. Properties of our composition suggests that, you better let this water flow, because if you don't a world full of love would love to strike you down making you coo and swoon over the symbols of a dream, the beautiful sunflower riding a bike, hitting a hacky sack perfectly at the end of the day a cup beckons inscribed with your name are you just going to sit and stare at it?
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49
Angry, Annoyed, and Jobless Starting to feel hopeless wondering what it takes to make it and if I have it or if I can even find it. Friends changing, time passing, learning the youth is not everlasting. Face changing showing some aging starting to feel the body aching. Looking at all the time taken. Many roads could have but should have that were never taken. Searching for employment in a maze of internet searches and job applications. Getting red starting to steam with the same response with different logos. Not knowing why it's always a no go. Went to school got a couple of degrees. One is just a mantel decoration made of cheap balsa wood and lies. The other is great but never enough. Wanting more companies always want more. I think education and jobs are working together. Education is the wheelbarrow that takes all of your money Jobs is the boot kicking you in the *** to remind you that you do not have any and that you need more. Every time we pass go with another job interview we get a glimpse of hope but it drives off in a car or sails away in the corporate battleship. That leaves only the dog to **** on our dreams and leaves us wondering where is our dream of lots of money and a big top hat. Just left to feel thimble like and try to iron out the details of your life I am tired of looking tired of getting told no. Going to do it on my ******* own. Load up the cannon with what money, hope, and dreams I have left and shoot for the stars and hope I can reach mine and fulfill my dream and escape this monopoly game of life.
0
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 11:49 PM UTC
Angry, Annoyed, and Jobless
Angry, Annoyed, and Jobless Starting to feel hopeless wondering what it takes to make it and if I have it or if I can even find it. Friends changing, time passing, learning the youth is not everlasting. Face changing showing some aging starting to feel the body aching. Looking at all the time taken. Many roads could have but should have that were never taken. Searching for employment in a maze of internet searches and job applications. Getting red starting to steam with the same response with different logos. Not knowing why it's always a no go. Went to school got a couple of degrees. One is just a mantel decoration made of cheap balsa wood and lies. The other is great but never enough. Wanting more companies always want more. I think education and jobs are working together. Education is the wheelbarrow that takes all of your money Jobs is the boot kicking you in the *** to remind you that you do not have any and that you need more. Every time we pass go with another job interview we get a glimpse of hope but it drives off in a car or sails away in the corporate battleship. That leaves only the dog to **** on our dreams and leaves us wondering where is our dream of lots of money and a big top hat. Just left to feel thimble like and try to iron out the details of your life I am tired of looking tired of getting told no. Going to do it on my ******* own. Load up the cannon with what money, hope, and dreams I have left and shoot for the stars and hope I can reach mine and fulfill my dream and escape this monopoly game of life.
Continue reading...
18