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a lawyer's
batch in
a brief
if hiring
direly break
trepidation that
equality *****
when a
state of
confusion interrupts
rights to
a genuine
occupy of
love where
intent only
makes mark
in society
a note on hiring in land of oz
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
Watching a classic
Casablanca Class I Fix
Trix cereal for adults
Goddess sundress
The class act you need to guess
Her
fit* no-one would
know vibrant
Getting the OJ of the miracle
Sunbathing at the
     *Pinnacle


His skin news of the
Chronicle
The fix-up finale deeply
in her classic smile
Sunflowers of the sunray  
Tropicana class act deviant play

Quickdraw Gunfire
Her hot tango steps in action
Copacabana
Diamonds no chips
Big tips at the Gentleman
OH! Boy the cabana detention
Class I comes with affection
Kiss is not a kiss without a real scene

In action to miss a classic movie hit
Adventure Trips  flipping homes
In the classified newspaper middle section

She is the Classic with an illuminating passion

I the Classic one and he is
surfing the internet
So fit to be tied but casual love
She the same person wearing her
flip flops
******* off *Root beer float tops

The root of all evil
That She-devil Sire
Not the ordinary campfire

It takes a certain Class, I can fix peoples
problems  like great ***** of fire

We are not signs or perhaps it's in the signs
Emblems
Where you came from no problems
Take action get more satisfaction
Army grenade we are all
fighting in action
Action speaks louder than words
One of a kind the rare find
A classification of her mind
Understand each other
do the hiring
  Trump in action job firing

What drives us and gives us
gratification
We need to love what is above
our minds
I believe sometimes you don't have to be where the action is

The Rainman Rainforest Vacation
You are the I phone off
with the ringer
Classic type Class I
Our computer all rules
codes and passwords
The religious Pope up front
He's the  Marlon Brando waterfront
You have the polka dot bikini

Panera Sandwich Panini
Orange you glad its cantaloupe
He wants to elope
your classic smile
Exclamation point
At Times Square you could
lift her for miles

Whether we look modern
The technology is always out of reach foreign
Or wearing your heart in his heart
Your wiggle walk
The classic style to talk
Fifties **** smoke
Born to be wildlife everything
is on Castaway
Or layaway on hold

And he is athlete runner so hype
Everyone is busy on
Twitter or Skype
The Facebook and photos

Dorothy loves wizardly Oz and Toto
Were all together like
a congregation, not a citation
Living in the city paying rent
Another wicked concert event

How many times did you get that notification?
The auction house in action the bid five times
Those hot leads of crimes
Playing for a nickel heads up dimes
Class act Quarterback
Elephant treasure trunk
ten commandment
Class, I lady leading the way
Class, I fix the parliament

Her classic fifty style army dress in action
Her bullet lips caught quite an attraction

Feeling the comfort food
Mac and Cheese
Silly names those 
 Canadian A&W
ATM Class I
The French fries do or dies
Skinny He's the Ham Mac
You're the spicy Cajun
on the speaker Mic
What classifies everything in
our life
High stunts action cliff taking a dive
**** Bill he kills me all the time

That Buffalo Bill Chicken Mac
Bombastic not the
forever love classic
With a whole list dark Raven
Crystal rock Haven

Everything lately goes so fast
Getting in Saint Anthony fire
She is the livewire
The gunfire or the cease her fire
Out of money  honey bee
******* mansion multiplier
Everything you're
near his or hers
Wineglass stir me
like an amplifier
What happens to your
responsibilities running
racing your own time
The  Coffee man suitor
My Godly dictator
The saltwater taffy-like lava
Comic Disney Pixstar meet Daffy Duck
Or you overqualified being lied too
Oh! Chuck

Like a candle in the wind its in
the science hot steamy
romance engagement
What awaits things to come
getting blown away
It just like any other day
How we classify things or lose things how our mind cannot remember your best words even writing a poem it takes practice more advice action speaks louder than words like the law and order. I think this poem might be your order. Please tell me how it classifies is this a class act to follow get your coffee fix action we will start the movie my poem classic relax
Tinesha Garcia Feb 2011
Hey you, are you hiring?
Business men dressed in 3 pieces, are you ready for this?
I don’t have much experience and I don’t have a fancy degree, but boy do I have SOUL. FUNK! A dazzling personality. And nice calves.
Assess me, judge me like you own a gavel.
Today I was walking along Paradise Lane, I stumbled over someone’s lost hope and fell on another’s pile of pride. Hey, I never said that I was ON Paradise Lane, friends.
Hey you, are you hiring?
Something on your breath doesn’t smell right, and the twinkle in your eye basically says that I was turned  down from the moment I said, “Hello, my name is___…”
Numbered. An unassociated member of free-thinking, I am in the business of dreams and tree forts, let me take YOU for a spin.
You wake up, dread doing so. All for some monkey in a 3 piece to put you in the system as a federal reserve payback bill.
HEY YOU, ARE YOU HIRING?!
Tim Eichhorn Aug 2014
With regards to Thomas Sayers Ellis*

Look at the
    Lucent lava lamps,
Dark craters
    Hiring hands.
We walked,
    Mimicking magma.
Hot, why is
    This heat?
Forget Vulcan
    And his illusion
Of kaleidoscopes,
    A rip tide
On the shore
    Of our conscious minds.
We held fire,
    Pretending to swim
Underground,
    But only out
Of pure respect.
    Some had boots
Made with
    The clippings
Of funky tripwire,
    Others wore suits
With goggles
    Clamped to their faces,
Gripping like
    Bay Area earthquakes.
One-by-one,
    Jang-strangs were
Attached to us and
    Hurled into the Pit
With rhythmic rituals,
    Waves of S and P
Flailed away
    Like flags.
One nation
    Under a new.
No one looked away
    From the fiery daze.
No one wept.
Mitchell May 2011
Assembly line broke down as the mirrors crashed and cracked.
"Angelina!!!" the crooked boss man yelled.
"Get in herre" the crook socks rang like bells.
Angelina poured sweat of the yellow blouse she had bought two days before for another interview in another office and another profession altogether. The room spun for her even though she would rather have it stay still.
"How much longer till this mechanism shifts and all of this stops altogether. Have their been madder women then me? Has there been madder men then me? Have their been madder times or are the times the same just with different tools and gears and nuts and bolts to tirelessly continue, heaving the corpses through the concrete cracked and littered streets?"
"Angelina!!!"
Another nail gun dropped to the floor, firing twenty rounds into fifty blue collared men's tie clips, deflecting them all to the near by wall which held the coats, the hats, the work shoes which the men were not allowed to wear due to "safety intrusions" and "labor union by lateral horizontal negative dairy laws". Another unfortunate fortune from the cracked mirror case but that, of course, is not the story, our story is...
"Angelina!!!"
Angy hurried up the hungry, empty metal n' holy stairs. She lost her high heels in a crack in the stairs but left them there due to the fear. 2011 had been a good year until she had been forced by her landlord, also her boyfriend, to get a real job rather then stuffing her knitted socks with her poetry and trying to haggle them to new age modern morons of the hip near sighters whom glasses were unintelligible but necessary. The mirrors of the conveyor belts reached the top of the platform but the door was shut. The mirrors bent and shattered leaving the splintered pattern of the world outside of them multiplied by the millions.
Noon was her lunch break and it was noon oh two. Angelina would be late with her lunch and the landlord, Nick, was planning to stop in with some home made sandwiches and home made potato chips.
"Nick will have to wait." Angelina thought to herself. "Nick hates to wait."
Angelina entered to stand in the wake of a shaking, sweating purse wearing, purse lipped boss boss. His hair was tossed to one side, struggling to hide his baldness. The subtelty of their relationship was difficult considering Angelina had slept with boss boss to get tossed this job. The act was actually enjoyable, Angelina thought him a good lay, but boss boss was not a fun person to be around, and he was a much worser boss.
"Angelina!!!"
"Hi."
"Your FIRED!"
"Bye then sir..."
"ANGELINA!!!"
"Yes sir?"
"AREN'T YOU GOING TO ASK WHY YOU WERE JUST SO HASTILY AND VIOLENTLY FIRED?"
"It is not my place to inquire why I was fired sir. If I was not doing my specific duty well enough I trust you, as my superior, to have thought what this subtraction would do to your company. If I had questioned you I would be questioning yourself as a boss and I would never want to do that...sir."
"VERY GOOD. DISMISSED!!!"

---

"So he just fired you, no explanation, nothing?"
"There was nothing really to say after the fact."
"You could have demanded an explanation."
"I was in a hurry to meet you. I know you hate to be late for our dates."
"That's sweet."
"And boss boss shouldn't have to explain himself, he IS a professional."
"He works in mirrors which doesn't make at all make him a ropes course supervisor."
"He's very handsome when He means what He says."
The home made potato chips had been burnt because Nick had fallen asleep while watching old re-runs of run marathons from the 80's. Nick had trained for the Olympics in 83' but while home after training and drinking an OK shake, Nick had stubbed his toe while drinking the OK shake and trying to get to a ringing telephone. Nick had collided so perfectly, so quickly and with such for that his right big toe had bent all the way back, his big toe fingernail touching the hairy patch on the top of his foot. The doctors said amputate the toe and save the foot or chop the entire thing off altogether. Nick, not being a dumb ****, opted for the entire foot. He never raced again.
"Are you going to try and get your job back?
"I don't know"
"Well. It's the 28th tomorrow and I need the rent either way. The insurance agency I'm with has been bugging me about percentages and utilities and...well, you don't want to hear about my worries."
"I don't mind sweety."
"Thanks doll. What're you gonna do?"
"Find more work I guess. I haven't written anything in a while, maybe it's a good time to get back on that train, see what comes up."
"I saw a help wanted sign at the mall nail salon."

---

Baby stroller wheels lined with pink and grey gum were lined up against the overwhelming glass wall enclosing the shops from the streets. Trees reflected green with the sun light lined across the clear wall. Birds flew at the top of the block near the ceiling crop, they wanted to come in but were confused how to do so. Children came through the valley with lollipops and balloon powder and strings lined with meats, they were headed to the capitalistic circus, a wonder land that only brought guilt from lovers and their future children's shame.
Angelina stood outside the electronic moment to moment receivers. She was afraid of not being allowed entry. Everyone entering entered easily, but what of she? Would she be accepted? Clicking her unpainted fingernail atop her leopard print clip purse and what was worse she had no cash to get her orange Julius or perhaps see a film if she couldn't conjure of the courage to stop off at the salon. That was why she had come here, right?
"Where had the salon been?" Angelina said aloud.
The mass of the mall was vibrating with a ferocious congruity. Through the fog of meaty torso's lay blank and content faces. Gripping their wares, their steaming quick food, some of it dropping to their foot only to be kicked around on the dirtied floor. At times a rat would scurry from underneath a traveling underwear salesmen to grab a piece of fried bread, half cooked meat, or small pieces of children's hair which floated softly down to the wet and mud streaked floor. Mall cops waved their sticks to each other, some kind of HAIL or CHEER that they were the one's in charge round' these parts and there wasn't nothing no one was going to do about it.
"Do I really want to work here?"
There was no choice though. Angelina needed to pay the rent or her landlord/boyfriend would kick her out on the street and from there, she had no clue where the blue sky would take her. Her parents, both dead thirteen years ago, would be a terrible place to set up camp, especially in a graveyard. Angelina's brother lived over seas working at a ***** clinic trying and failing to heal the weak and unwanted. He had tried to heal her through voodoo practices he gathered up drunk through his 6 month stay in New Orleans but it had only given her a bright blue and red rash for three to four weeks. She never longer trusted her brother with any kind of healing or "feel better" techniques and was no prepared to make the trek to Europe anytime soon, she was in a relationship at the moment anyway and she had a feeling she might be in love.
Angelina stepped through the glass exchanging doors in unison with a family that was entering at the same time. The door seemed to open for any body but was tentative if it would accept hers, this time, it seemed to.
Inside she made her way up "the miracle marbled stairs" which shined bright and blinded Angelina in certain parts of her eyes. They flashed bright red and greens and whites so visciously and fast Angelina thought she might have some kind of seizure. She planted her feet directly on each step as she walked up the 20 to 30 stairs, going very slow and gripping the handrail. People started to gather around behind her shouting "HURRY UP LADY" and "WE DON"T GOT ALL DAY" and giggling to themselves.
"Were they not seeing these lights?" Angelina thought to herself.
"Do you kind people know where the nail salon is?"
Angelina then realized that what she had just said made no sense. Her eyes were gripped shut, her hand tight around the shiny gold handrail, her feet pointed strictly out like some kind of paralyzed summer penguin. The people which had gathered behind her stood bare, jaw slacked, wondering who would step forth to help this poor helpless creature.
A little girl with red sparkled shoes and a orange bow atop her head stepped forth. She smiled even though she knew Angelina had her eyes tightly shut, maybe she would feel the warmth? The girl's mother reached for her so not to get to close to that "crazy lady" but the little girl pulled away, her father saying "If it's her time to go, it's her time to go".
"Miss lady with the tiger purse, I think the hardware nail pull on is on the 8th floor next to the people that sell bread with meat sticks inside."
The little girl stepped gingerly back as Angelina loosened her grip on the now stained golden handrail. She shook her hair out and ran her fingers through it, straightening herself up as if she were about to perform a song or late night poetry reading. Angelina opened her eyes and peered down at the girl.
"Thank you little girl. What's the best way to get there?"
The girl child said nothing. She pointed to a large metal box shooting up and down the length that looked like a rocket straight to heaven. People were gathered all around its foundation, oooing and ahhhing at the sight of the one's which entered. There was a sign over the line of tubes reading "A Shot at the Void".
"A shot at the Void..." Angelina tentaively breathed to herself.
Angelina stepped up the last couple glittering stairs and made her way through the thick crowd of stale clothes, cheap tricks, obsessed teeny boppers, hardware for wear, shoes with no laces, strips of bacon hanging from mouths, lettuce all shredded, soda cans with their lids torn clean off with small splatters of blood lined on the rim, and a perfectly painted fingernail was drawn on the number eight where the long lines and rows of numbers were there to guide the one's to the shot.
"Number eight. Easy enough"
Angelina pushed the button.

---

Inside the tube there was a slow light hum of jazz transfusion and children breathing. There were three little daughters gripping their mother's hands as they bit into their soda pop straws, ******* up the soda inside the plastic and cardboard cups. All three children stared up at her, maybe wondering what she was wondering, which was exactly what Angelina was wondering, a combination of mistaken telepathy, an accident of consciousness that would be never be talked about between the four of them but most surely existed between them.

Smooth as clay they drifted up the translucent clear glass tube, shooting skyward like a man made rocket shot from a man made gun. They passed shops hocking wears of angelic colors: clear pearl pastels shone through the clear blue glass shining into Angelina's eyes forcing Her to squint, dog barks could be heard through the whistling air begging for treats of black and brown, teriyaki chicken strips and duck heads spun absurdly fast with a rhythm that resembled the wave of a crowd at a baseball game waving wildly like children flying from swings never wanting to land in the sand; all this as the three and one flew higher and higher and higher.

---

Ding.

---

Angelina stepped forward, leaving the three children behind Her to fend for themselves. From the looks of the button they had pushed they were headed East. She gripped her bag and peeled Her eyes, twisted her hair in a tight knot to show her aggression, her vigor, her confidence and stepped into the rabid salmon like crowd.

She saw no signs of the nail salon. She saw only posters of rabbits holding artichoke legs and nail guns firing rockets of ice cream and corn bread. These were the mirrors of the supposed revolution but had nothing to do with her nail salon, she needed the cash and she needed it NOW! How hard were the numbers to acquire? How long must she wait before the envelope is sent and the letter read and thrown out? How long Lord, how long?

Questions for a time when the pay checks were easy coming and Her man was by her side. She passed by a little boy playing William Tell with her sister. An apple on the little tots head and in the boys a small, tight and silver ray gun. The boy pulled the trigger but only a small plume of smoke came from the top making the boy ball over crying and wailing and kicking and screaming, nearly catching Angelina in the shin, what a mess...The little girl stayed still in Her spot though because her brother told her "Now don't move a cinch." Wise move my girl, wise move...

At last! Angelina, reaching Her destination saw the brightly neon colored corner of her beloved Nail Salon. The windows shone with pure red glitter, miniatures of poodles lapping up puddles of ice water, women laying out on the sun to catch rays from the Earth, and husbands shaving their backs all in a circle and row.

"How beautiful..." Angelina breathed out.

She entered the store front. Greeted from every corner were beautiful young cupid like angels faces shining divine but with no torsos, floating heads of angels ***** but crying and smiling. Asking Angelina "What would you like today miss?" or "What are you after?", beckoning for her requests, begging for her touch of vulnerability and lack of knowledge of where she was or what she needed.

"Just an application...I heard you all were hiring?"

"Hiring!!!?" the cupid heads screamed in unison.

"You want to become one of us?"

"Yes, part-time...?" Angelina said hesitantly.

As soon as the words "part" had been uttered from Angelina's wise and brave mouth the many heads of cupid began spinning and spinning around Angelina's body. Faster and faster they spun until Angelina herself was spinning with them, unified in a quadruple hurricane stripping her of her former self and slowly manipulating her body, her hair, her other self into her new self.

As Angelina's torso lay in the corner of the store un-bloodied, clothes tattered as well as some scratches  on her elbows from the toss, Angelina's head was floating in the perfect center of the other three hovering cupid heads.

"How beautiful...how beautiful...how beautiful."

"Isn't it?" the three cupid heads answered.

"Yes, everything here is so beautiful," the four of them whispered.

And as soon as Angelina had entered, she just as soon had left.

END
Torin Aug 2018
xspacexpotatox 1h
Racism is a lie, your people hate us naturally lol just look at the way you’re responding................ and us “black people” are supposed to be the ignorant ones.... whew
xspacexpotatox  1h
Look at the affliction and persecution. There’s a reason why your ancestors put chains around our necks. It’s because the Bible said it would happen ****
xspacexpotatox  1h
So do me a favor, go learn a bit more. I’m not even gonna laugh at your ignorance, I’ll pray for you. Have a nice one.
Torin Galleshaw  1h
oh so your jewish friend is the authority on this? what does he know about zionism? seems you got your mind made up man. good for you
xspacexpotatox  1h
I want to know why you feel so threatened lol
xspacexpotatox  1h
I won’t let the hate reach me man
Torin Galleshaw  1h
wow, racism is a lie then u stereotype all white people IMMEDIATELY after you say that. ignent? i really wanted to give you a chance bro. but you have been very abrasive this whole time, immature and incredibly offensive. i dont know where in the bible it says that. or, if as i remember when i went to ce williams middle school as a young kid in a poor part of charleston south carolina where i also learned a test can be racist because the only person that did well on it was me, the white kid. ive felt black racism towards me all my life. do you know the history of the celtic people. yeah, slaves were given food to eat, my people died in gutters in the cold because of no mc hiring practices. ever heard of britain, do you know who irelands neighbor is. have you heard of the potato famine, do you know why it happened? william wallace?
systematic opression for over 800 years.

most important part and key difference between us, besides the fact thta your better than me because you are black, but. you claim im so ignorant im not worth your time, essentially. i think your so misguided i would love to show you the actual way to god and heaven. brother, you need it.
xspacexpotatox  1h
Bro you lose don’t message me anymore
Torin Galleshaw  1h
and dont claim im acting like im threatened, first thing, you dont know me. youre acting nearly militaristic on this ****. young malcom X wanna be. im cool tho, you robably never knew someone as chill as me.
maybe we could talk without resorting to personal attacks tho. thats a good sign you are losing an argument.
xspacexpotatox  1h
What’s your point? Mines is simple. I get what I learned from college text books and the Bible, the knowledge coincides and that indicates who my people are.
Torin Galleshaw  1h
do you know of the talmud?
do you know what it is?
do you realize that it contains the only visual description for jesus?
do me a favor, before you try to come at me with some more weak **** why dont you go and see what the talmud has to say about it
thank you brother
xspacexpotatox  1h
Was the visual description a white man? If so I’m not interested
xspacexpotatox  1h
I’m a young black man that’s been taught all his life, all I know is truth.
xspacexpotatox  1h
I’m not that arrogant, I offered you edification and once I edified you rejected. lol I’m not supposed to be nice and open to you.... I know who my oppressors are.
xspacexpotatox  1h
“GOD” said “and I know the blasphemies of those that say they are Jews and are not” you’re disrespecting my ancestors
Torin Galleshaw  1h
thats the thing only a truly awoken spiritual person will ever recognize. in a past life you were a tiny asian woman bro, you were a fat white guy, you were a cat fucj it. so rn your black. soul dont got color. recognize bro. i dont wanna big boy you on this, but i can. and i will if i have to. or maybe you would either A. apologize for your offensive and rude behavior, or B. and my preferred choice we could ACTUALLY converse. you say you got proof, cite it priest boy
xspacexpotatox  1h
Bro, my ancestors were beaten, *****, hung, fed to alligators, shot in the streets, literally broken. Imagine having your family heritage stripped from you, your language and books taken from you.. You’re not hearing me out, you’re trying to prove yourself to be what I am and I can’t let you think that’s okay. I’m OG. I teach people. So far I’ve learned nothing from this conversation. I’m proud of the beatings my people took to get here, and I definitely don’t agree with the whole “you were a white or Asian person in the past life” because that makes no sense. My family is “BLACK”, besides that my moms great grandmother was mixed, and were STILL predominantly “BLACK”. I come from “BLACK” people, therefore I am a HEBREW ISRAELITE, and I know this for a FACT!
Torin Galleshaw  49m
Bro, my ancestors were beaten, *****, hung, starved for hundreds of years, shot in the streets, forced to fight in the civil war after arriving here form ireland starving, (one of the most effective brigades, you see many of the soldiers had to fight in wars against the british already)literally broken. Imagine having your family heritage stripped from you, my last name is not the last name my great great great granparents had. it was too ethnic, it was changed, your language and books taken from you. do they speak celtic in ireland?.. You’re not hearing ME out, you’re trying to prove yourself to be what I am and I can’t let you think that’s okay
xspacexpotatox  42m
Oh you guys are actually mention in the battles you fought?! **** there’s no documentation of anything “African Americans” did in the wars we helped win! Atleast you guys got decent credit
Torin Galleshaw  37m
bible told me you just have to accept his love, jesus's love, but even buddahs love, and john the baptists love, and all of gods great prophets. bible taught me that without their love i can never really love any one.
xspacexpotatox  35m
If you believe in the most high, fine with me. That’s all I have to say.
Torin Galleshaw
Torin Galleshaw  33m
yes, there is documentation of both slaves ad freed black men fighting on both sides actually, believe it or not
Torin Galleshaw  32m
https://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/blacks-civil-war

"Once let the black man get upon his person the brass letter, U.S., let him get an eagle on his button, and a musket on his shoulder and bullets in his pocket, there is no power on earth that can deny that he has earned the right to citizenship."

Frederick Douglass

xspacexpotatox  28m
I never once believed the history teachers in school, I always challenged them because I know that American History is *******. Just like whatever filth you’re trying to show me will only bore me like the teachers bored me in school. I served in the US Army. I did my time for white america and I refuse to go back lol

he blocked me not long after that, final thoughts

Matthew 6:10-14 thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread, And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors,And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.
a truly fascinating case study in hypocrisy.  when he is sending me videos of white people asking for blaack people to treat them kindly when they become enslaved.  nah.  if your gonna block me instead of being able to have an actual conversation im gonna put you on blast.

anyone who believes this is a *****

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvZSxSkTZOM&feature=youtu.be
profession:
oppression
Emily Katherine Feb 2015
I see now that I kept asking for your attention in some desperate validation that maybe one day you would see me the way I saw myself with you; as a partner.

It was easy to believe we were working when I thought I had something to fix, but then someone told me I was not broken to begin with.

I waited and wasted so much time and energy working at your at your impossible process, but I can no longer be romantically employed.

I love you, but I do not love the way you have me trained. I comply with your  terms and regulations and never complain.

You are so good at finding ways to keep me in line, but this contract you keep presenting is something I never signed.
love is not one-sided, your partner is your equal do not let them dictate your life,
TheTeacher Oct 2012
I should have been a boxer....the way I stick and move when I write.  The only person I know that can make the sun shine at night.  

I should have been a boxer....the way i fight with words to paint a picture.  I'm using the jab to set you up for the knockout blow.  I'm looking for your tendencies and when i spot it......down you will go.

I should have been a boxer....float like a butterfly sting like a bee.   A sign of honor to a fellow poet.....and inspiration to me.....Muhammad Ali. I should be a boxer the way i study my craft and observe the legends of the game.  It's all all about the passion.....I could care less about fame.

I should have been a boxer.....you can't be good unless you train.  I have my book ....my pen .....ideas in my brain.  I have so many thoughts I may need another brain.  I'm on the speed bag so my brain is quick with the flow....switching styles like a southpaw.....which way is it coming? I guess you will never know.

I should have been a boxer....because i really like to fight.  Instead of gloves I utilize my pen to pulverize the paper and annihilate those foes and lost loves....father's who left their children at start.  They couldn't finish the fight .....was he a coward or a scarecrow.....born without a heart.

I should've been a boxer.....because my defense is always up.  I hide my poems inside a book .....it's highly guarded so don't try to look.  The thoughts inside are g14 classified....so I'm hiring security guards.....if you want to gain entrance.....you must present an identification card.

I should've been a boxer....because I'm always fighting.  My thoughts are knocked to the paper and bleeds black or red.  I write about life .....because I know nothing about being dead.  Although, I been knocked around .....and have had to take a standing eight.....I leaned on the ropes and learned to wait.  Still working the jab......which are the words i write.

I should've been a boxer.....one hitter quitter and then it's time to say "Goodnight!"

Ladies and Gentlemen......we have a unanimous decision.  The new poetic champion of the worldddddd!!! ......I should've been a boxer.....Yeah right.
Sara Ackermann Mar 2016
Being unemployed is like….

Being stuck in a hole in the ground
with a broken leg and no cell phone,
while surrounded all on sides by people who ignore
your very existence,
or treat you as if you are less than…. well…anything.

Their silhouettes casting quickly passing shadows
on the concrete around you.
No one offering you a hand.
Each time you reach out for help
you are rejected coolly and professionally.

No one wants a failure, but they also don’t
want the responsibility of helping to create a success.

The ones who do reach out for you,
don’t really care about your success or well-being.
They see a quick buck,
easy to replace or move past,
should you realize you are worth more than their
verbal abuse and manipulation.

No one wants a self-valuing person either.

They don’t even want a human,
with thoughts
emotions
and memories.

All hiring businesses want, is a robot to do their every bidding with no complaints,
no questions asked,
even if that person’s health or sanity is on the line.
Or even their life.

In a world created by ourselves, we are unimportant.
to get good money, you need to go to school, to get a good job. and yet, to go to school (without being in debt for 10 years+) you need a good job and good money(meaning more than $9/hr).
Aoife Mairéad Feb 2013
Dear Miss *,
We regret to inform you that unfortunately at this time we do not have space for you at our company.
Yours,
Xxxx xxxxxxxx

Dear Miss
*,
We regret to inform you that unfortunately at this time we cannot offer you a place with our company as you are under qualified.
Yours ** xxxxx

Dear Miss
*,
Thank you for your application. We regret to inform you that you are over-qualified for the position.
Yours,  xxxxxxx ***

Dear Miss *,
I don’t think so love. This isn’t even a letter, this is my managerial position on you handing me your cv.
Cheers, bahbye now

Dear Miss
*,
This isn’t really a letter either, but despite how un-pc this is, we can’t hire you due to your gender.
Thanks anyway, save your paper.

Dear Miss
*,
Thank you for your application, unfortunately we had stronger applicants.
Yours, etc.,  aaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaa

Dear Miss *,
Thank you for your application. Unfortunately we are not hiring at the moment even though we had advertised the job you applied for.
Yours, xxxxxxxxx xxxxx

Dear Miss
*,
We had left it between you and another applicant, and couldn’t decide so we flipped a coin, and she won. You’re a lovely girl though.
Yours, fffffff ffff fffff

Dear Miss *,
I refer to your claim for Jobseekers Benefit/Assistance at VVVVVV’s CCCCCC local office. Jobseekers Benefit/Assistance claims are subject to periodic review, consequently, I would appreciate if you would attend this office for interview on the 31/17/78 and bring the following :
1. Proof of Identity (i.e. Passport or Driving Licence or Long version of your Birth Certificate)
2.  Proof of Residency (e.g. Letter from landlord/ Rent Book/ Lease/ Mortgage Receipt/ Letter from Parents + Household Bill)
3. Written Proof of recent job applications and replies.
4. Proof of job applications made through FAS
5. FAS courses applied for.
6. A copy of your Curriculum Vitae (CV): unemployed from
7. If your spouse/partner is an adult dependent on your claim, please bring his/her GNIB and Passport/Travel Documents.
Failure to respond to this letter may lead to suspension or disallowance of claim.
Yours sincerely,
* *
Local Officer
Artwill Goodman Jun 2015
it's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse

a woman, a
tire that's flat, a
disease, a
desire: fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a
chessboard...

it's not the large things that
send a man to the
madhouse. death he's ready for, or
******, ******, robbery, fire, flood...
no, it's the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the
madhouse...

not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left ...

The dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can **** quicker than cancer
and which are always there -
license plates or taxes
or expired driver's license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or
roaches or flies or a
broken hook on a
screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink's stopped-up, the landlord's drunk,
the president doesn't care and the governor's
crazy.

light switch broken, mattress like a
porcupine;
$105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at
sears roebuck;
and the phone bill's up and the, market's
down
and the toilet chain is
broken,
and the light has burned out -
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it's
darker than hell
and twice as
expensive.

then there's always ***** and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they're
your friends;
there's always that and worse;
leaky faucet, Christ and Christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains,
50 cent avocados
and purple
liverwurst.

or making it
as a waitress at norm's on the split shift,
or as an emptier of
bedpans,
or as a car wash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady's purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.

suddenly
2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your
underwear;
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold
tooth,
and China and Russia and America, and
long hair and short hair and no
hair, and beards and no
faces, and plenty of zigzag but no
***, except maybe one to **** in
and the other one around your
gut.

with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one
thing
enters a
madhouse.

so be careful
when you
bend over.
Homunculus Feb 2019
01/31/2019

Today, I learned the true extent to which I loathe the IRS. To be fair, I've always known that I hated them. I've had plenty of legitimate reasons for this in the past. For instance, every year, they casually extort our wage and salary, pretending to allocate it for the building of bridges, roads, and schools. While in reality, the infrastructure and educational system crumble, and defense spending grows without limit.
But then again, I do suppose that in a certain sense, roads, bridges, and schools are built indirectly with these funds; but only after the funds are used to blow these institutions to smithereens in third world countries, and private corporations like Halliburton are contracted to rebuild them for egregious profits. Profits, mind you, which are shuffled to dozens of offshore shell corporations, ensuring that they are taxed at a rate exponentially lower than the profits of the average working citizen.
But today, I experienced a type of hatred entirely novel to my conceptions of what is even possible in the realm of consciousness. A loathing so intense that it paralyzed my rationality, sending me into fits of rage and bewildered astonishment that I would wish on NO ONE . . . except Cheney or Kissinger, the ******* *******. For today, for the first time in all my 28 years of life, I filed my federal income taxes. I knew that one day the chore would inevitably arise, but I still consider it an accomplishment to have made it through an entire third or more of my life without ever actually dirtying my hands with the wretched muck. All that aside, the story goes like this:
I work as an “independent contractor” for a friend who runs a small business. I perform various services around the office, and he cuts me a check at the end of the week. I've been working there “on paper” for about a year, really a bit longer, but “what they don't know...” so goes the old adage. We had, the both of us, anticipated with tempered irritation, the arrival of this bureaucratic beast of burden. However, neither of us knew that the deadline mailing date for “independent contractors” comes nary two months sooner than for payroll employees. This information was sprung on us at the very last minute by his tax attorney who, from this point on, will be referred only to as 'G.S.' (grease stain).
As I was fulfilling my duties, my friend urgently beckoned to me “STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING. TAXES ARE DUE TODAY, AND WE HAVE TO FILE THEM NOW!” Naturally, I panicked. I had seen an income tax form . . . perhaps once or twice? . . .  much less filled one out . . .  maybe once at 17 during the employment process at a fast food joint? . . . Initially, we had thought it would be a simple matter of the W-2, the likes of which had been filled out automatically for me by employers in the past as a part of the hiring phase. Nonetheless, since my status of “independent contractor” placed me into a different tax category, I had to fill out what is known as a 1099-MISC. “Simple enough!” thought I, “I'll just fill in the relevant details and get back to work.” . . . “NOT SO FAST, CASEY JONES!” screamed the form, with all its talk of “fishing boat expenses” and “crop insurance” . . . “O...K?” “and what precisely has this to do with me?” thought I.
My employer, courteous as he can sometimes be, called up (t)rusty old G.S., who referred us to a site where the form could be understood more intelligibly. After a bit of head scratching and chin stroking, we figured it out. No matter, though! Because once we figured the form out, we couldn't figure out what to DO with the ******* thing. 'G.S.' was once again consulted, and he told us that we could simply print the form, and take it to an H&R Block office for submission. “Okay, simple enough!” thought I . . . but alas! It was not to be so. When we arrived at said office, the agent . . . who looked like a burned out caricature of William H. Macy . . .  reviewed the forms, and said that to apply the deductions I had calculated, he would require a $300 fee for his services, and that I would need to fill out a “Section-C.” This lanky, rasp-voiced, twig of a man then withdrew from his cubicle, at which point, my employer whispered to me “**** that, I've done Section-C forms hundreds of times, we're ditching these crooks”
At this point, we retreated back to the office, found what we thought to be the relevant forms, but were soon swept up in a vicious monsoon of bureaucratic legalese which, although it resembled English, bore few similarities other than word spelling and grammatical form. It is sometimes alleged that Kafka was haunted by ghosts which had an insatiable appetite for stories. The legend further has it that he would write for them to quell their unyielding wrath. Those of us who have read Kafka know intimately of his satirical preoccupation with the absurdity of bureaucracy. Perhaps these stories pleased the ominous specters which loomed over him like the fluorescent light beaming down upon me as I type these words. Some things can never be known for certain. If, however, this were truly the case, then it would seem that Kafka's ghost had now taken the role of writing MY story for his own amusement. Every cliché of the DMV and social services building was present in this ghastly affair. “Fill out this form; stand in this line; oh, I'm sorry, sir. You've got the wrong form. You'll need to file a (…) and take it to (…), their hours are MwAhMwAhMwAhMwAhMwAh” This futile circumlocution went on for SIX HOURS. All the while, thoughts of a perfectly wound noose, crafted of thick hemp rope, with thirteen pristine wraps forming a slipknot to be fitted as though tailor made around my neck filled my mind, as the acute stages of benzodiazepene withdrawal began to set it. Luckily enough, or so we suspect. We figured it out, and now I have only to wait for my return to come in the mail to see what I owe.
But once I got home, I got to thinking. There is a copy of 'Infinite Jest' on my coffee table. A literary epic whose magnitude cannot possibly be overstated. I began to think deeply reverential thoughts of the author of this book, and then something clicked in my mind: on that fateful day when Wallace took his own life  by the noose, he was in the middle of writing a novel about nothing less than the 1985 Tax Code in Illinois, and a group of IRS agents. Being the adamant researcher of all topics that he was, we can hardly imagine that he did not give this terrible ******* of language what he felt to be its due diligence. Of course, any responsible thinker understands that correlation does not equal causation; but as the admittedly ironic thoughts of suicide filled my mind over the course of this afternoon and evening, I can't help but be left to wonder if a mind so vastly superior to mine as his did not experience these ideas with markedly less irony as he reveled in the vile idiosyncrasies of bureaucratic jargon. Again. Some things can never be known.
I have begun keeping a journal. Not so much for the sake of documenting my daily experience, but more so to experiment with different writing styles and, perhaps to help clarify my own thoughts. I will also continue to write poems, of course.
jeffrey conyers Sep 2012
We all serve someone in our capacity of life.
We just must be willing.
We all gather some type of benefits in life.
We jut must be willing to admit it.

I work for God Incorporated.
In other words.
I'm employee of God.

And this his service.
I have been insured in mutiple ways.
Don't have to admit how?
Don't even have to say.

In spreading his product.
Whether it's the word.
Or his love.
I have promoted his goal.
As God's employee.

He accepts request.
And He supplies many needs.
And I personally can testify.
He don't get offended being called a charity.

Altho' He does get heated at things he see.
Still, I rather stay employed in his company.

No strikes is allowed.
Too many rewards connected to his foundation.
He's always hiring.
While also advising and training others in life.

A good employer gets good remarks.
After all.
Why criticize the creator of us all?
jeffrey conyers Aug 2018
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.
Matt Bay Lea Jan 2014
Holding the wall up, and feeling alone
You pick up the receiver, but hear dial tones
And suddenly stronger, you dial the phone

Unwrapping the number crumpled on your desk
You swim in uncertainty, but pray for the best
Cause things always turn around, you'll bounce back I guess

Ask if they're still hiring part time
You request dollar bills, but you only make dimes
As if living your life is such an awful crime

Brag to the waitress, you survived another day
As you throw your old poems into the ash tray
Hopefully your dreams will thaw out by May

But being a Winter, you feel more alone
You stick to the wall, and your skin becomes stone
Cause the Walls will not stand, if you decide to leave home
Criticism is encouraged
NeroameeAlucard Jun 2017
"Not interested. "
"We're sorry but we're not hiring at this time. "
Getting that email
Again and again
Is why i write this rhyme.

What am i doing wrong?
Did i really offend or upend someone?
Why do i keep getting my hopes up?
How do i find the audacity to hope,
Again then i get dumped on like a truck?

Unemployment *****
Julie Grenness Jan 2017
National disasters,
Plebs' hollow laughter,
Floods and bushfires,
Natural land afire,
The state of the economy,
A national disaster for you and me,
Still, some people have jobs,
With hiring you should hobnob,
Plebs' hollow laughter,
Our national disasters,
Too funny not,
Whose hiring for jobs?
Feedback welcome.
Ashwin Kumar Jan 2023
In order to achieve results
You need to work hard
That should be easy enough to understand
The difficult part, though
Is how hard you need to work
Especially when it comes to Recruitment
You see, the nature of the profession is such
That you can't predict anything
Because everything depends on people
And every individual is different and unique
In his/her own and special way
Thus, luck is very crucial
When it comes to hiring people
There are times
When you work out of your skins
And still fail to achieve the desired results
Because luck is not on your side
There are also times
When you do the bare minimum of work that's required
And are able to achieve positive results
Because you are kissed by Lady Luck
On both cheeks
These contrasting scenarios are common
When it comes to hiring Investment Bankers
You spend the entire day calling people
But very few show interest
And apart from those who are not keen
There are quite a few
Who don't even bother to answer your calls
Or call you back
There are also some people
Who say "I will think about it and get back"
Either they get back with a negative response
Or they don't get back at all
That is to say, they just disappear!!
Thus, you have to start all over again
And since you also have tight deadlines
You are forced to work almost till midnight
And sacrifice a few hours of sleep as well
Since you have to go to office the very next day
And it does not end there
Your work forces you to stay at office till 7 PM
Almost an hour later than usual
And to add insult to injury
You get a mild reprimand
From the security staff
Of the business centre which houses your office
For not leaving on time
If you thought the worst was over
Then you were wrong
Because you are forced to work on Sunday as well
In order to ensure
That at least one resume is sent to the client
At the start of the week to follow
If only if you had some luck
That is to say
If even one of the candidates who had said "No"
Had said "Yes" instead
Then you'd have enjoyed a weekend free of work
And got some valuable rest in the process
For all your efforts of the previous week
Yes, in order to achieve results
You do need to work hard
But how hard you need to work
Is something that is almost impossible to answer
When it comes to Recruitment
Particularly when you are hiring Investment Bankers
Poem on the amount of the never-ending work that I had to do; in order to share resumes for two never-ending Investment Banking roles
New Zealand's National Animal is the Unicorn
My National Animal is the one you like the most.
A party that forgot to hire a host
Trying too hard is what i do most.
It's okay, my veins are still in tact.
As long as you're okay, in matter of fact.
jeffrey conyers Jan 2013
The land of the free.
With so many people of pedigree.
Which makes us sounds like a dog.

As, we try to describe the way we are.
When speaking about our heritage.

I'm Irish American.
I'm Italian American.
I'm African American.
Or European American.
When simply stated about your race.

If you're American born.
You're American.
Verified and validated.

To be real.
To be true.
We're not complete sure who's what?
And who is who?

We just needs to correct ourself.

About, who we are?
Or think we are.

You might be American of Italian descent.
You might be American of African descent.
You might be American of Asian descent.
Or American of Irish descent.
Or European descent.

Where we all might be mixed to be kins?
When we think of only being friends.

We only see black and white in one country.
Which I never fiqure out the color.
None of the skin identify to the race.

But we see B and W on many application forms.
Which I have never figure out why?
Or less it's to discriminate from hiring.

But we always seems to blend in as one.
When some one attacks your country from a war.

Then color becomes second nature to us.
When we proudly states what country we belong.
And heritage doesn't get mention at all
Below My Feet Sep 2013
I'm corrupted.
I'm in bankrupt.
I'm not hiring.
The story of the year 235
The year of Kris Kringle the
Right wing Santa Claus


You see in the old town of Dublin
Back in the 200s there lived the Kringle family who were the crankiest family of all, with father
Donald and mother trish and
Two boys Lionel and kris
And Kris Kringle was the one who really wanted his father to respect his views and Donald told kris
That he had bogus views that only
Rich people would like, like at the age of 4 Kris Kringle was trying to plant money in the garden hoping
A money tree would grow and Donald trish and Lionel all laughed
At him saying you are a total loser
And you will never get what you want and years and years went by
And at the ripe age of 16, Kris Kringle wanted to leave his left leaning family and decided to squat
On the lawns of the country club
Saying this is where I will end up
Saying that I can get away from those poor bank robbers and
Enjoy country club life, and this country club has big Christmas concerts and chess tournaments
Boxing bouts and Kris Kringle
Was the winner of 56 tournaments
In that country club, they also
Brought bands from all walks if life
Kris Kringle was on cloud 9, thinking
That people who don't want to go to this country club are idiots
And Kris Kringle after several roles
Of playing Santa at Christmas concerts, he had these visions of
Throwing lollies and chocolate bars
Into the audience and the country
Club crowd were very happy and
Kris Kringle had other ways of making fun at Christmas like
Giving a big cake and have pretty women come out of it and kris
Kringle was on cloud 9 but at the age of 26 when Kris Kringle was moving into the villas in the country
Club a gang of train robbers were on their way to rob one of Ireland's famous old time trains and abducted Kris Kringle and made him a hand in
Robbing this train and Kris Kringle was in no right mind to tell these robbers off, so he just kept his big mouth flaming shut and when they arrived at the old 200 century train
Station Kris Kringle was forced to look as he is the ring leader and
Thru robbed the train and then
5 days later Kris Kringle was a arrested and sentenced for 35 years
In Australia which used to be a convict colony and Kris Kringle
Decided to spread Christmas cheer
For everyone on the island and
He parked himself a home in
What we now know as Adelaide
And his house is where Rundle mall
Is currently sitting and Kris Kringle
Got a stage coach every Christmas
And with 3 brumbies puliing on the reign delivering presents to everyone
On the island and it took 7& hours
To deliver these presents and when
Kris Kringle returned he dropped off at the beach we now know as glenelg beach and was there for the official opening of the glenelg surf club and Kris Kringle did this each year for his 35 year sentence and
The people on the terra Australis island didn't want Kris Kringle to go back to Ireland so they killed him
By hiring a truck and running kris
Kringle down saying we are keeping your spirit with us kris and
Every Christmas that Kris Kringle
Was delivering presents ya know
34 years he delivered presents to
People on this island, Kris Kringle's body was buried where Rundle mall
Is today and his spirit really makes
Adelaide come alive in the credit union Christmas pageant
Kris Kringle lives forever
I was Kris Kringle


Sent from my iPhone
Jon Tobias Jun 2012
Where did the circus go?

Not like the Del Mar fair
Or the Barnum and Bailey skinny cow version

I want someplace nasty
A bit sticky
Someplace that picks up and leaves
before you have time to go get your watch back

All that’s left is a lot
Full of trash and ride screws
Because the rush to leave was more important
than safety

It’s a place most days now
I wish I could run away to

Slap on fake **** and be the bearded lady
Or warts and green paint and be frog man

Be something along the lines of
Homemade make believe

Be happy believing that
This other place doesn’t have things
Like rent
And car payments
And work that ***** you harder than your own girlfriend will

And don’t tell me cirque de solei is hiring
That’s not a circus
That’s people in costumes dancing and flying around on stages
They had to go to school to do that

You don’t need school to join the circus

You just need the desire to leave
Before anyone notices you’re gone
Maybe leave behind a sticky mess
And take with you something valuable
Like a watch
Or money from the purse on the counter
Or someone’s heart

Maybe I could be tattoo man
Or the ***** Mouthed Poet
And freestyle psalms that ache behind a glass window
That you have to pay a quarter to see through
And another quarter to listen
Or I could be a wax statue of Jesus
The one that if you stare at long enough
You see him breathing

Enough to restore faith in the make believe
That keeps us going

Let me be your side show
Let me be your fortune teller
Let me be the dark room in that back
Only the men are allowed into

Women and children this way

Let me be the ***** talk of town
And leave before the lynching

Let me leave in the night like a piper
With the promise
That I will give you the life you’ve always wanted
If you leave behind all you’ve ever been

Remember him?
He joined the circus?

Where’d the circus go?
billboard's calligraph --
past the haze of Manila infested
by car sprawls and belching machines.

magnanimous treatise of tarpaulins,
people chin-up asking God
with askance

something like this
"o god make this bearable
like a mound of fresh fruits
from ****** labour."

maniacal sensurround:
earth-shattering frequency
of footsteps trampling the mouth
of monolith shadows - the peak
of this quake is our complete silence.

rain's catharsis in effect
sousing us in the blood of unreal light.
this diastolic shrinkage
jamming the beat of constricting vessels.
the adrenaline surges
within the dermis of this pretension.

a collective of tired beings heeding
the recherché of voice metamorphosing
into form, a dagger-butterfly
paring us skin to bone, cranial
to visceral, soul to nothing -

catapult of a trajectory spit
plummeting in eased-up pace
from Taft Avenue flyover
to a subjugated wagon of scraps
and empty wine bottles.

today's paper reads:

"Palace hits hiring
   of **** dancers"

fancying to fall right in the
spanked curved of this
insatiate melodrama - something
  prayer could not save from
this land's mutinous ignominy.

   we resume to fulfill our madness,
hundreds of tack-headed people
  rolling down the streets of Makati,
drenched with rain's trilling aftermath.

squinting to look at
  no sun, only the grieving of skyscrape,
thumbing down unidentified objects
  in the depth of loose pockets,
    desperate for home.
**** the Philippine government.
Mr Xelle Feb 2016
I'm a fool I'm sick and weird to everything,
Everything told me to stop being somebody..
Somebody said if you're breathing you can't be a nobody
Nobody just watched as the tears gave birth like ovaries.

Yeah the sad thing about it is I lost a friend and gained a community.
Funny how we never joke and work hard for this" dying man to be".
Too make clear Money is dead and yet we still need it.
I need a job man I need a job
It feels like my heart was mobbed it feels like my past will always haunt.
And the Good thing about it is God is on top...
Sleep why
Eat why
Count the days I have broke off,
Count the months I have tried to get it right.
johnydeep Feb 2016
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jeffrey conyers Oct 2020
Parent, you're the employer seeking employees.
Would you hire your child?
Be real, be truthful.
Would you?

Who of all people knows their habits?
Their attitudes and ways. to decide if they with being apart of Family Incorporated.

Are they cheerful?
Are they determine?
Are they a great example of teamwork?

You're the hiring manager in charge of hiring.

Are they ordered(not asked) to clean their room?
Are they argumentative?
Are they lazy to not apply themselves?

Are they rude?
For no apparent reason?
Are they on cell phones?
When other assistance needed?

Ask yourself?
Would you hire your kids?
Ashwin Kumar Oct 2022
After hours and hours
Days and days
Weeks and weeks
And months and months
Of sheer hard work
You would have hoped
To achieve at least one closure
In a year
That has been disappointing at best
And abysmal at worst
With backouts becoming as common
As India beating Pakistan in a Cricket World Cup
However, Lady Luck disappoints you
For the third time in a row
As the sheer miserliness of your client
Pushes your candidate away
And it is ultimately you
Who ends up being the loser
But that's not the worst part
The worst part is
Having to start all over again
With a rather limited pool of candidates
Still, it is not in your nature to give up
Especially after having come this far
So, you make a concerted effort
To find fresh candidates
And after a lot of searching
Followed by a lot of calling
You finally land a good candidate
But the client rejects him in a flash
Undeterred, you continue searching
However, the already limited pool of candidates
Starts shrinking rapidly
And just when you're about to lose hope
You manage to find a decent profile
However, the client rejects this as well
Quicker than the speed of light
And with every rejection
Your confidence dips
Slowly but surely
Until you can stand it no longer
And scream at the top of your voice
"Investment Banking Hiring Is Not For Me!"
Fairly self-explanatory!!
Justin S Wampler Apr 2015
I desperately need someone to ****,
both literally
and metphorically.
E Aug 2020
TikTok comps
Russian bots
Makeup tutorials
"I'm not like other girls"

Trolls and incels
BuzzFeed articles
Gay fan fiction
Many a pun

Demonetization
Censorship
People hiring hitmen
Buy some hair clips

Twitter ramblings
Anti-vaxxers
Flat earthers
And a partridge in a pear tree
jeffrey conyers Dec 2012
Oh, you have a great guy.
Showing interest in you.
Trying his best to show case his best qualities to you.
Then you say.
You're accepting applications.

You're just seeking the best of the best.
Whoever that might be?
Which in my mind is me.

All your suitors inform you of their greatness.
All the things they can do for you.
Except you're aware of my abilities.
While you're accepting application.

In the process.
I do notice those with financial benefits stands at the top.
So do seek them cause of the wealth involved.
And if you do.
Then I don't see love.
But , what you see as rewards?

You're simply should say, now hiring.
Cause if they don't make it through the probation period.
Then they will hear that phase, I had to let you go.

It's been nice.
Except you're not needed anymore.
Samuel Lombardo Oct 2014
A thought in process...
Imagery that tells a story....
I can see
the Prestigious School of Gills:
The Conservatory of Velvet & Blues.
In the process...
The conservatory will need to
hire the Ground sharks
to make sure there
are no shellfish or
Crappie fish laying around.
Once all the Crap is
swallowed up,
we can hire Dolphins so they
can share in their porpoise.
Even in the deep,
we have trouble with
Blackchin.  We should consider
hiring Giant Wels to calm
the Blackchin.  if that does not
work, we will get the Bigmouth Buffalo
to calm all the Bitterling.
I do need to get around-
I should Perch a Black Neon Tetra
...and find some Pumkinseeds.
I will need to hire an
Octopus to get the building
done sooner.
In one hand- I will use a Hammerhead.
In another hand- he should use a Sawfish.
I will need two arms to scratch
the Rough Scad from the floor.
Two more arms should
use Smelt-whiting on the walls.
We need Muscles to do the
heavy lifting.
Finally, the Octopus will need two
arms to lay the Velvet.
EEL!!! I have noticed Roaches!
I noticed the Roughy patches.
Hey look!!! We do not need to
worry about electric-
we will just use electric eels.
To right- I will place the lampfish.
Do not worry about the
evil of the Ghouls & Devil Ray-
I will be sure to Discus
with Alfonsino all
the trouble with the
Blue-eye, Bullhead, ***** shark.
We will have a Whale of a time,
omitting the Suckers & Swallowers
from the Red Velvetfish.
I need to cool
things off with icefish.
And to keep the roofs from
leaking, hire the seals.
Our Seahawk Security will
be watching for the White Shark.
If you see them please,
send out the Yellow Jacks
and I will use the River Loach
as backup for there is plenty of
fish in the sea.
#Building #Where #Are #You #Ateam #Reality
GaryFairy Dec 2013
Thanks for hiring me
i was the man for the job
i knew i would love it
when my hand touched the ****

my art is demolition
my little wrecking ball
smashing empty buildings
how i love to watch them fall

thanks for hiring me
i didn't let you down
i turned their city
to nothing but ground

— The End —