"joblessness" poems
For my mate Chris
To sit around in anger…does no favours,
To bellyache to me… It’s all unfair,
To hope somebody else… comes up with answers,
To see the world’s shortcomings… flaunted there.
A lack of motivation keeps you grounded
Friends and family try to keep you at arm’s length,
You loathe the Government’s lack of comprehension
In that joblessness depletes your hope and strength.
You feel those carbohydrates clog your arteries
And see your muscled body turn to flab,
Discipline’s resolve flies to oblivion
And you curse all that… which makes your life so drab.
Disappointment curbs the high expectations,
You feel the planet owes you that, to which you seek,
Aghast to comprehend your own misgivings,
You feel the need to say…but then, you never speak.
Then suddenly… a stark, clear realization
That NOTHING HERE WILL CHANGE…UNTIL YOU DO,
Until you turn around your thinking to endeavour,
Till then that something that you seek… shall hide from you.
So look, my sweetness, look into the mirror
Shed the worry lines that always cloud your brow,
Kick your sorry **** profoundly to tomorrow
And lose the ****** shards of bitterness….RIGHT NOW!
Marshalg
Endeavouring to re-motivate a lost cause.
18 August 2012
© 2012 Marshal Gebbie
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
you repugnant *******
you keep me wondering
just why god created you
they say He has a reason
for everything. Why he created you
I still don't understand. but lately
i wonder if you were created
just so i could have this day
to myself.
full of filth, creepy as hell
disgusting at the sound
of your belly being squashed
but for the sake of justice,
i sprayed you with my favorite
perfume.
not because i have a pint of love for you
but because every opportunity to end your life
should be fully taken advantage of.
i watched you die. it was slow.
first your legs uncoordinated,
you scrambled for the walls
but they failed you. they did fail you.
then you choked. i could almost hear it
you thought of the darkest place
to dig your grave. but not on my marble floor
i watched you die. i wanted it faster
but the sweet smell of the Hugo Boss
and the death of a scape goat...
a scape roach,
was bearable.
maybe you deserve a soundtrack
or a more befitting burial in a bin
but a poem for you is totally undeserving
save for my joblessness.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
when I grew up I became a writer,
and at the same time all other
pursuits faded and floundered,
crumpling and whimpering like
puppies made of paper thin rose petals.
all my time is spent in thought,
warm wet puffy clouds of insight;
when I emerge in the light
of day with the mere mortals
chewing their complacency
like doe eyed, robotic cows,
my hands shake and my words run together.
I am too busy for the nonsense people call the daily grind,
that 9-5 mentality and the routine, oh the routine,
where we do what we hate so we have ten minutes to do
what we love and who we love.
Can't someone propose that we can do what we love
and get paid to do so, paid horrendously delicious amounts of money,
that would make basketball players blush and drug dealers cry?
For now I will take charge of this joblessness and settle into
my thoughts where I am free to roam
past streets filled with people waving at me and cheering me on;
I'll work your 9-5, and I'll spend a hearty 11 minutes
pouring my soul into my writing.
Sorry I'm late to work again.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC
five minutes from suicide’s stigma I was
scribbling words to describe my own demise
but not these you see about boomerang generations
of leeches who return to comfort—safety after selfish pillage and plight
At least that’s what my father cried
What stopped me that October day was a ***
a Fool, if you will, younger than I residing on 15th and 3rd
he clutched tightly to trains into cities and drank blue Mad Dog 20/20
while vomiting tales of sloppy wrists and joblessness
He said, “Don’t do this you need more stability!”
The rest of that day I defied gravity
as I could ski away from rock bottom
because a *** a traveler, taught me in Autumn
more about a chemical reaction of gold
Than middle school teachers could
Five years to the day, yesterday,
I saw him outside a bank and couldn’t help but think
about blue drink, middle finger sentiments and consequences
late for a shift his apron pressed because chemical addiction
Forced a need for paper, not communication.
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 8:04 PM UTC
**Seeing the man for nearly twenty years
In his eternal Spring of joblessness**
Man, wife, a son
A one storied house
Market and home
The only places I have seen him tread
And on the roof
Any time of day
He’s there
Staring around
Sky gazing
I envy him
His length and space
Stealing my Saturday dusk
Sunday dawn
Weekday moon
I envy him
For so much time
If I had
Would have spun endless rhyme
But then ceasing remorse
That like him
Much time isn’t mine
I think
*Stuffed with so much seen
Heard
Observed
The bard in me
In free time’s delirious wine
Wouldn’t have budged a line!*
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:35 AM UTC
the current occupier of the white house
is unable to lead the battle against the pandemic
sends unmarked secret police
to push peaceful protesters into unmarked vans
lets police use tear gas and rubber bullets
to clear a place for a photo-op before a church
into which he has never set foot
holding up a bible which he most likely never read
spreads birther lies about possible opponents
tries to defund the US postal service
because he is afraid of mail-in votes
attempts to destroy anti-pollution laws
that improve people’s health
wants to abolish Medicaid
tries to celebrate a wishy-washy peace agreement
between UAE and Israel as his success
throwing the Palestinians under the bus
& cetera & cetera & cetera
all he has managed to do in three-and-a-half years
is destroy many achievements of his predecessors
destabilize world diplomatic alliances
insult longtime allies and cuddle up to authoritarian leaders
killing 170,000 {updated 300.000] Americans due to his lack of leadership
sending tens of millions into unemployment and joblessness
and blame everybody else in the world for his blatant incompetence
today the USA have lost all credit
among the global community
and left a vacuum
China and Russia are racing to fill
make America great again?
the best cynical joke of the past 120 years
Aug 15, 2020
Aug 15, 2020 at 1:22 PM UTC
America should accept how hard it ****** Africa
It posed as a solution to African joblessness
During the days of bi-bolar politics on a global stage,
When communism was the ideological song of the day,
And capitalism a commercial chant of the night,
America came sly and wily for African top brains
It rapaciously came for the young and energetic,
It scooped them away without any ruth, on promise of candy
Of the famous American dream, or economic glory,
It Americanized their everything, brain and testicles,
They were made to work day and night in order to make it,
As American tax and bills policy is cunningly crafty,
It makes success a will-o-the-wisp to all the immigrants
At most the blacks who have nothing to sell
Other than their desperate black labour, extra-erotic *****
Those who were lifted in the mid of 1900,
Are now desperate septuagenarians; economically forlorn,
They are now coming back to Africa like the tail of a snake
After being shaken out as labour leftovers
And being discarded as economic washouts
To solemnly come home to Africa
As zero-handed roosting eagles
Having wounded wings by the craft of the kite,
The white kite schooled in the Jewish games
Taught as poetry of property by Phillip son of Roth,
They are now a disillusioned lot and patiently wise,
Without a bulging tummy nor elbowy arms,
They are guilty and empty in the spirit
For having been duped to work for the enemy,
Against the self, out of softish folly,
They now learn African tongues with stupid discipline
Piecing back social pieces to create clan relations,
They wish to donate aid but they have no money,
They deeply wonder on how to de-Americanize the self,
In the holy pursuit of self re-Africanization.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
finding myself struggling with twenty-seven years
the magic number until I can retire
seems a thousand lifetimes away
and how will I ever stay in one place that long…
for near forty years’ worth of days
I have floundered between part-time
and joblessness… some of it as a ******
some as a young adult trying to find my way…
pondering solvency, monetarily
I consider my real options:
theft leads to jail
hard work leads to hard work
401k’s and retirement planning
are often stolen by the greed of the 1%-ers
bailout for the monopoly kings…
where is my bailout for living in America for this long?
who has been diligently investing in my trust fund?
why is this what ‘making it’ looks like?
answerless questions lay piled on the floor
some hurriedly jotted on napkins
others tattooed on my forehead
none ripe or ready…
I know I can keep on keeping on
I hustled ****** for ten years
….but I want it to be easier
I desire to bathe in bling
and throw hundreds out the window
yelling about how much I don’t give a ****
….but for now, I will just get up to my alarm
wash my face and hands
and play slave to the machine one more day
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Deadly chemicals
found in lake water.
Fish production of
that lake
gone damaged.
Police came
last night.
Searching team found
for dead bodies
inside the lake.
Govt was ready to
ban fishing in
mud filled
lake.
The dead bodies
are of fishermen
who were stressed
for joblessness.
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 9:49 AM UTC