"recruitment" poems
I sit and try and be a lotus
after killing the third fly of the evening
with a pocket book of recipes and a
thirty centimetre ruler stolen
from bathroom **** measuring contests to our knees.
Young professionals tread these boards
and I watch, trying to paint them lotus.
I listen and learn like I was told to do
then clock watch, mop, cycle home to you;
I am still trying to be a lotus
even in wet shoes and no socks.
With less than five-hundred pounds to my various names,
an office-chair-cum-clothes-horse, eight USB charging ports
and a future that stretches to Sunday’s last reluctant second,
I am sitting, trying to be lotus figuring out the professional path
David Attenborough heard in his gentleman’s class: that son of a-
- I walked into an army recruitment vault with dreams of being Gulliver,
though was asked to leave out the cat flap cathedral door back into war
as they’d got their laugh and didn’t applaud.
Perhaps I should’ve been better at maths
where apparently a career can be predicted on a scatter graph,
and the pigeons of today were the pigeons of next year and the months that’ll follow the century after that.
I am still trying to figure out the hoo-ha of ************
and ring fingers and collar sizes and the inner circles
of hyenas when the winter solstice splits the seasons.
There is no reason for this lotus procrastination
when what’s there to live for but a crooked world
and one bandage left.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 2:18 PM UTC
The Story
by Kamal Nasser
translation by Michael R. Burch
I will tell you a story ...
a story that lived in the dreams of my people,
a story that comes from the world of tents.
It is a story inspired by hunger and embellished by dark nights of terror.
It is the story of my country, a handful of refugees.
Every twenty of them have a pound of flour between them
and a few promises of relief ... gifts and parcels.
It is the story of the suffering ones
who stood waiting in line ten years,
in hunger,
in tears and agony,
in hardship and yearning.
It is a story of a people who were misled,
who were thrown into the mazes of the years.
And yet they stood defiant,
disrobed yet united
as they trudged from the light to their tents:
the revolution of return
into the world of darkness.
Kamal Nasser was a much-admired Palestinian poet and Palestinian Christian, who due to his renowned integrity was known as "The Conscience." He was a member of Jordan's parliament in 1956. He was murdered in 1973 by an Israeli death squad whose most notorious member was future Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak. Barak (born Ehud Brog) later ruled as Israel’s tenth Prime Minister from 1999 to 2001. His adopted Hebrew name Barak means "lightning." As a younger man, Brog/Barak was a member of a secret assassination unit that liquidated Palestinians in Lebanon and the occupied territories. In the 1973 covert mission Operation Spring of Youth in Beirut, which was part of the larger Operation Wrath of God, he disguised himself as a woman in order to assassinate Palestinians. The raid resulted in the deaths of two women, one of them an elderly Italian. Two Lebanese policemen were also killed, along with the poet Kamal Nasser.
Nasser was the PLO's most prominent Christian and he enjoyed "great appeal" in Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq "both as a distinguished poet and likeable personality." He was the “conscience of the Palestinian revolution,” according to Nazih Abul-Nidal, who worked with him on the magazine Filastin al-Thawra. Nasser “had the most democratic outlook of all Palestinian leaders at the time,” he recalls. He respected opposing views, admired the commitment of young people, and was a major recruitment asset for the Palestinian revolution. “That is why he was put high on the hit-list.” The previous year, the Israelis had murdered another renowned Palestinian writer and activist in Beirut, Ghassan Kanafani, by booby-trapping his car. Nasser’s successor, Majed Abu Sharar, was also assassinated by Israelis, in Rome in 1981 while attending a conference in solidarity with the Palestinian people.
Keywords/Tags: Kamal Nasser, Palestinian, Palestine, PLO, Conscience, Ramallah, Christian, religion, poet, Arab, Arabic, Arab Spring, betrayal, conflict, courage, devotion
Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 7:55 AM UTC
"From a very young age, I've thought
some videogames can be a little too reminiscent of 'Enders Game.'"
"Yeah, it could easily be a real war and you'd possibly never even know it."
"Especially when the games are basically an interactive recruitment tool. Call of Duty and the later Halo games leap to mind."
"Actually, my cousin-in-law just signed up for the army."
"Hah, did he cite Call of Duty as his reasoning?"
"Pretty much."
"Hah. I ******* knew it.
It's lamentable that it works.
The sad fact that it isn't a joke
make the jokes that much worse,
but, yet, the jokes aren't as bad
as the atrocity, itself,
yet it's the jokes that incur social wrath!
This adequately exemplifies Society's priorities, methinks."
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
There is a young lady called Anna. She is a loner. She lives alone with her two cats. They are her world. I am a cat lover myself and have 2 little cuties in my nest. But these cats are just plain feral. They terrorise the other cats in the neighbourhood and **** in all the neighbours’ garden.
She works Monday to Friday for a recruitment company. She leaves her flat in a purple Mazda convertible which is renowned for being a Hairdresser’s (AKA dumb **** car. Every day she leaves at 7.30am on the dot and every day she arrives home at 7.15pm on the dot.
Once at home she turns on her TV cinema system (sub), just to watch the TV.
*****
At the weekend she also leaves her stinking putrid ******* bags out in the communal hallway.
*****
She ignores her neighbour’s knocking on her door. She ignores the notes that they put through her letterbox.
*****
So as Anna was not willing to speak to her neighbours directly. They had no other way to turn apart from to report her to Environmental Health for playing her TV cinema system (sub) too loudly and also for the disgusting ******* that she regularly leaves out in the communal hallway.
*****
In which she returns the compliment by reporting them (said neighbours) to the Environmental Health for:
1) Shouting at each other,
2) Talking too loudly,
3) Banging kitchen utensils on the floor when she is in her kitchen
How deluded is this *****
At the same time that her neighbours reported Anna to the Environmental Health they also spoke to the Community Support Officer. They advised them to contact the Mediators in their local area. Which of course they did. The Mediators arranged to visit one evening. Unbeknownst to them they parked in Anna’s allocated parking space. Once they had finished with her neighbours, the Mediators returned to their car. Just as they were about to reverse their car, Anna arrived home in her Mazda convertible and blocked them in.
*****
When she got out of the Mazda convertible, with attitude I might add, she asked the Mediators who they were. They then introduced themselves. Once she knew who they were, she invited them into her flat to hear her side on the story.
YES I AM HER ******* NEIGHBOUR AND YES I AM STILL WAITING TO HEAR BACK FROM THE MEDIATORS……
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 11:21 PM UTC
It was considered expedient
To change the unit of measure
To change scale,
To make redundant all
That could be wasted,
Naturally.
Internal communications
Will contrive suitable verbs
To conceal the brutality of profit
To provide surety as required
To the senior management team
As for the rest:
To those whose insecurities
Are relied upon, whose
Middles have expanded, aged
Receded, human resources
Will issue notice of packages
And opportunities of relocation.
The restructure will require
The recruitment of some
Of the hungry young;
Fresh graduates on the newly
Introduced basic scales.
What of your work you enquire?
Those value added strategies
Of differentiation
Of corporate responsibilities,
Family friendly policies?
In this age of austerity
Such approaches, old man,
Are as relevant as a hard drive,
Or hard copy, this is a cloud
Sourced post-crunch
Twitterverse we inhabit,
This is a time for new prospects
This is cloud cuckoo land.
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 3:06 AM UTC
What am I even doing?
This process seems so pointless
Smiles and charities
We all know it's about the drinking
and the ***
And the coke.
(don't forget the coke)
These girls aren't your friends
they're side-by-side failed clones that
strive to give you validation
excreting words that
you will never need.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
When the first words out of his mouth was
"Sup *****
I knew a certain few things
1. He was not getting laid tonight.
2. None of us in this room know why he's the party leader,
All glancing at each other in awe
nodding like a hive mind chanting
yes, this man is in fact an *******
no, i don't know how he rose to power
yes, he did just call us *****
3. I could think of a million one liners that would earn me way more respect up front than that.
I don't know what I was expecting
walking into this basement
Maybe some small fame
The same small fame I get from getting on a stage for slam poetry
or being cast in a reality T.v. show
Or singing kareoke at my local bar.
Maybe for the free pizza
We've all been there.
And yes, maybe it was for the revenge.
the campaign slogan you stamped
recruitment posters with.
Join the evil league of evil!
Launch revenge against the modern heroes of today!
But when I sit down in this small fold up metal lawn chair,
in what is presumably his moms basement
Behind a projecter (also probablly his moms)
Next to captain nose bleed
And princess ********
I already don't have a whole lot of faith in his agenda
So when his opening line
Was "Sup *****
Like that is some sort of impressive villanous monolouge peared down into one and a half words.
I lost any ounce of faith I had in this cult.
And decided to Usurp this "Party Leader".
Now you might be asking:
Why?
Why would you want to be the head of the evil league of evil?
Founded in this pre pubescent boys moms basement
Whos only followers so far seem to be captain nosebleed,
and princess ********
Well
clearly
You don't understand.
Captain nosebleed is already under the thumb of princess ********
I mean lets be real without princess ********
We're three dudes in a basement
Pretending to be super villans.
And you've been known to be pretty charming.
But in your friends evil lair.
Sorry
Moms basement.
You start to evaluate your situation
Gotta make a descision.
Are you fighting for Revenge,
or the small fame?
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
A first exclamation
Is it an approximation?
Of my imagination
Spoken determination
We are all in delusion
Sinking possibilities
Acting on this activation
A brain improvisation
A flowing dedication
Mounted city destination
Lacking in co-operation
Mounted evaluations
Investing the cognition
Is not the only direction?
Embracing the investigation
My convergence recruitment
Not even words uncovers
The layered entrenchment
Sunken lost in introversion
A day dream of absolution
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
The Overpass
Boys get high
and pass the warmth
vivid and bright.
Living surfaces surround them-
spray paint
history
under the overpass.
They were nigh new members
a nation of addicts.
Here recruitment was rampant
where friends went to try
and they broke-
chemically chained
under that overpass.
In the summer
strange souls pressed together
to **** to love, to grow,
a maiden voyage
hailed by the night
inhaling the night
under that overpass.
If ever you get high
and look for something more
it’s right there
under that overpass.
Behind the weedy grass and paint
a blue door waits.
Bones litter the escape-
to a new world.
Pass out of this lif
e
and lay before it.
Release yourself,
enter paradise
under that overpass.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
You know the famous saying
All good things come to an end
This applies to weekends as well
Or in this case, Sundays
Because I was forced to work yesterday
Due to a massive project
Which will keep me occupied
For a good three weeks
Including two Saturdays
Hence, all the more reason
To positively dread the start of tomorrow
Ah yes, the infamous Monday
Something that terrifies me
More than climbing Mount Everest
Or entering a lion's den
Or earning the wrath of a cobra
I can go on and on
But I think I've made my point
Yes, Mondays are bad
Especially if you've enjoyed the weekend
As much as I did
Notwithstanding working on Saturday
So, do you want to know
What makes tomorrow twice as bad
As any other Monday?
Firstly, as mentioned earlier
I am working on a big project
Probably my biggest in the last three years
Secondly, while the going has been smooth so far
Things are going to get tricky
So far, all I have accomplished
Is pure research
But now, I'll have to start calling people
And these are not recruitment calls
Which are relatively straightforward
On the other hand
I am entering pure sales territory
Which may not be a big deal
For most "normal" people
But for someone who is autistic
It is a different ballgame altogether
In fact, it is like steering a ship
Through the Bermuda Triangle
And finally
The biggest roadblock
In my long and treacherous path
Is not the candidates
Not even the client
But my accursed laptop
Whose ability to perform under pressure
Is even less than that of South Africa
In a global cricket tournament
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 11:58 AM UTC
Most people lost in trance,
No moral No virtue, none taking stance,
Corporations, profiling the masses for profit,
Wisdom, a lost art, never a conversation topic,
Most people lost in trance,
Thinking, intellect seems active... but at glance,
The masses follow but a single or many devils dance,
Compassion forbidden, ignorance in forever expanse.
Wickedness spreading even in a happy song,
The Path of Ancients, forgotten, what has gone wrong?
Spirituality always seen as an unscientific farce,
A pure state of consciousness, truly: a lost Art.
As a the masses defile, few seek purity,
All with masks on, fearing true reality,
Fools fooling fools, a vicious cycle,
Kings and pawns, dreaming of power and titles.
Lost in trance, for others amusement,
Greed seekers doing even the devil's recruitment,
Pollutants in all, mind, heart and body,
Lost in trance, devoid of potentiality.
A few fools, feeding on ignorance for money,
Truly, lost in trance, a lost humanity.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
For days and days
Weeks and weeks
Months and months
You work the hardest you can
You burn the midnight oil
You sacrifice a lot of things
That you hold dear
Whether it be cricket
Whether it be mobile games
Whether it be online shows
Whether it be exercise, even!
After all your sincere efforts
You are surely bound to think
That success would follow you
However, you are in for a rude shock
Far from being rewarded with success
You are instead punished
With failure after failure
As your efforts go down the drain
One after the other
Until all you are left with
Is a massive pile of zeroes
A reflection of your rejection
By the candidates
By the clients
And, last but not the least
By your laptop itself!
Recruitment is such a devil
Nov 30, 2021
Nov 30, 2021 at 10:49 AM UTC
I'm again in a transition,
A non-medical scientist by my schooling,
A writer, singer-poet, and author by passion,
These days I'm at Gorakhpur to join a new job,
For another new opportunity that I grabbed,
One of the many exams I cracked,
This job is that of an Assistant Audit Officer.
I marvel at what life has shown me,
Educated at school in non-medical sciences,
Physics, Chemistry, Math, English & Physical Education.
Then I undertook the first paradigm career shift,
Started my Bachelor degree in Biotechnology
Met with the unfortunate cataclysmic road accident,
Survived the 23-day coma against all odds.
Oh the odds, do you remember, oh life?
200+ beats per minute heart rate in the coma,
104°F+ fever accompanied the ****** injuries,
Fractured cheekbone just below the left eye.
Brain stem injuries sent the global doctors in a Tizzy,
Nobody was certain about my survival or the recovery,
But I survived.
The second paradigm shift here was my survival.
They had said at the hospital,
"Only the most serious cases come to ICU #2,
And the lost cases come to HDU #7."
BUT I DIDN'T DIE.
I survived everything that you threw at me,
Everything, even negative people,
Who made weird recommendations.
What did they recommend to my parents after the accident?
— to make me join an easier degree course,
— to make me train for weaving baskets,
— to set up a toffee shop for me to earn bread,
— and what not to discourage my family,
— my parents had dreams for their only child,
— all the whilst I was in the uncertain coma,
— and the pitiable vegetative state for 30 more weeks,
— where I endured immense pains.
Oh life, you've been so hard!
You gave me COVID-SARS in 2012,
I didn't die,
I completed my B.Tech in Biotechnology.
More loneliness followed,
I still didn't give up on life,
Completed my M.Tech in Animal Biotechnology.
The third paradigm shift was next,
When I cleared 4 recruitment exams,
And joined as a Probationary Officer
With the State Bank of India.
The fourth paradigm shift now comes,
I have shifted to the job of an Assistant Audit Officer,
With the Comptroller & Auditor General of India.
I defeated death,
But I seem to be fighting a lost battle
Against loneliness in my life.
Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024 at 11:46 PM UTC
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection
SEEKER*
Now I can hear you saying to yourselves,
"So. You said you were smart. Why did you get involved with a crazy cult like Scientology?" Well. Two reasons. 1) I was raised an atheist (Humanist), but had a seeker's soul. I became very spiritual, like I said. I also had a desire to HELP people. Humanity. I still do. But because I had a godless upbringing I was left open to deception. And 2) I found a boyfriend. Or, I should say, he found me. One of Scientology's tried and true methods of recruitment.
I had another friend, a ***** Jewish scientologist (yes, there can be that sort of thing, as you can be "any faith" and still be a scientologist... hmph!). She introduced us. I was impressed by two things. He was an instructor at the "Mission". And he could tell you things that seemed psychic. One of the procedures for impressing people to sign up for classes and "processing" was this. Doug would position you in a certain part of the room. He'd have his back to you. Then he'd tell you to walk away from him... then stop abruptly.
**He'd be able to tell you when you stopped!** And he could do it every time! This really impressed me. Until I found out he looked into the reflective surface of a large glass covered poster that was on the wall! Lol! What a con artistic magician HE was! HA!
I was totally gone over by the registrar (salesperson). She stuck to me like glue until she FINALLY figured out, Yes! I had NO MONEY! So I didn't get any training or processing. Which was a BIG part of why I stuck around. I didn't even read "Dianetics" by L Ron Hubbard. Doug told me a little about it. But most of his energy was expended trying to get in my pants... a fruitless endeavor to say the least!
He was instrumental in getting me up to Phoenix for the fateful "Flag Orientation Tour". The recruitment campaign which would change my life forever...
Where I signed my life over to Scientology's Sea Organization for the next BILLION YEARS.
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC
As every day begins
My heart beats with anticipation
With every call I make
There is a spring in my step
However, all good things come to an end
As the day wears on
The white clouds fade away
And are replaced
By monstrous, jet black clouds
With every call I make
My shoulders droop
My eyes lose their lustre
My hands begin to shake
My voice begins to falter
As the rain of despair begins
My mind loses its focus
I lose all sense of direction
The pile of work on my desk
Grows taller and taller
Until it outgrows Mount Everest
Just when I begin to think
That things can't get any worse
My boss cranks up the pressure
To such a level
That my heart beats faster and faster
I begin to splutter and choke
My mouth begins to foam
My face starts turning blue
With a rapidly shaking hand
I stagger towards my water bottle
Tripping and almost falling on the way
Eventually, with a supreme effort
I manage to prise the bottle cap loose
As I take a gulp of water
I spill a few drops on the floor
Very slowly and steadily
My breathing begins to return to normal
But not before my heart is filled
With a deep desire
To hear the three magic words
"You are fired"
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 10:46 AM UTC
Recruitment without Naukri
Is like a cobra
Stripped of its venom
A tree without leaves
A musician without an instrument
A Mutton Biryani without the mutton
A laptop without a battery
I can go on and on
But you get the gist, right?
Recruitment without Naukri
How does it even work?
Of course, there are other portals
LinkedIn, Monster, Indeed
TimesJobs, Shine, Updazz
Dice, Hirist, Instahyre
But do they even come close
To matching the pin-point accuracy
The sheer amount of detailing
The refreshing practicality
And finally, the user-friendliness
That Naukri brings to the table?
The answer to that, unfortunately
Is a resounding no
Recruitment without Naukri?
Can it be managed?
As mentioned earlier
There are other portals
But will your boss be ready to pay
For any of them, apart from LinkedIn?
The answer to that, unfortunately
Is again a resounding no
Recruitment without Naukri
Coupled with a miserly boss
Is like chasing 350 in 50 overs
On a seaming wicket at Leeds
All your hard work at the nets
Goes to the drain
As you keep trying to hit boundaries
And end up getting clean bowled instead
Ultimately, the loser is not the client
Not the boss either
It is you, and only you
May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 2:22 AM UTC
A year out a year away I yearn for freedom far away
Far away far beyond to the place where cars go bomb
I would have joined the boys at the bar
But instead I’m off to join Hezbollah
When I arrived I jumped the cue
The bulletproof Jeep was waiting for me to
The rifles round the waist the men at the door
I had funny feeling telling me I had gone to far
Did I really just leave home to come this place
To join Hezbollah and their CIA mates?
Its all happening so fast I said after my first fast
What’s with the black robes and the cotton face masks?
Can I not just watch do I have to do?
Who are these mercenaries we have here to?
I hope you got my message amongst the blah de blah
In the letter I sent you from Hezbollah
I was lost but now I’m found mum, Iv been shown around
On the back of an armour plated Volkswagen I was driven around
I saw the desert slums, the graveyard pits
But the road was greasy from oil slicks
I was told iv grown up I was that I’m a star
I think I might stay here for a while with Hezbollah
It was goats knee that was fed to my face
Three days before I was to leave this place
Because I was chosen and I’m a star
White upper-class turned Hezbollah
Chosen amongst many to do what few will do if any
It was an open invitation on a Facebook group conversation
So to this night I say goodnight, till tomorrow and the good fight
I will not die in vain my pain shall be relieved with fame
I’l see you soon my ma and pa thanks to my savour Hezbollah
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
so you saw the recruitment poster
and naturally, you thought you’d come
thinking it would come naturally-
being artistic yourself-you came to class
equipped for the jaunt; the saunter in the park
where the sun is bound to shine-
with a new ukelele in a case
like a little hamper with a little rug of hope-
what are you letting yourself in for?
not this assault course, maybe?..
Let me tune you up.
First off, this is not going to be
some slack strung Hawaiian picnic,
where you can catch everything with butter fingers
where fizz sends it straight to your brain,
where you’ll just inhale and exhale music-
no. you’re going to have to jog on the spot;
get your knees up, star jump and listen
and fail and feel musically immune
to anything remotely infectious or
resembling a tune; you’re in the army now
so excuse me while I just whip away
that table cloth of preconception
laid out in your mind;
now
get down
give me twenty
count yourself lucky
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
You are used to being overloaded with work
That's what happens when you work in a startup
Especially a startup dealing in Recruitment
That too, not run-of-the-mill Recruitment
You specialise in niche roles
Thus, you need to invest a lot of time and effort
In order to pull off closures
Yes, a recruiter's life is never going to be easy
But Recruitment pales in comparison to Research
When you are working on a major research project
You are essentially taking part in an almost never-ending race
Against that elusive devil, Time
A race you can ill afford to lose
And the race track is far from straight
In fact, it is full of twists and turns
Some of them are even more dangerous
Than those hairpin bends you often encounter
While driving up the mountains
There are also numerous obstacles along the way
And to cap it all
There are no prizes for winning the race
On the other hand, if you lose
There will be a stiff penalty
In the form of losing the client, for ever
And what's worse
Is the fact that your credibility will take a massive beating
From which it will be quite difficult to recover
Life will never be the same again
So, you have to win, no matter what
Of course, you are used to working hard
Whether it be Recruitment or Research
So, you put your best foot forward
And work out of your skins
Putting off sleep as much as possible
Even when your body is protesting vociferously
Against this blatant abuse
To add insult to the injury
Your laptop shows you the middle finger
And your phone literally dies
Sending you into a brainfade
That would have put even Australian cricketer Steve Smith to shame
Luckily, your father's presence of mind saves the day
But your troubles are not over yet
The harder you work
The more confusing the project gets
It's like being trapped in a maze
Except that it's a thousand times worse
Because the maze is controlled from outside
As if it were a puppet
With your boss pulling the strings
Thus, the harder you try to find a way out
The more you get trapped inside
With every passing hour
Hope slowly drains out of you
Until you are forced to admit
That all you can do, is pray
And keep praying for all eternity
Hoping against hope
That Harry Potter and his friends will save the day
Feb 24, 2023
Feb 24, 2023 at 12:46 PM UTC
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 12:15 PM UTC
Life needs a fire of happiness inside me.
The one inside me died when people refused to even have a look at my independently published novels.
I tried to write books inspired metaphorically by my own life-threatening coma-inducing high-speed bike accident. When the Indian publishers rejected my manuscript, terming it as poorly written or full of proofing errors, I self-published my novels on the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing Program.
So far, I have successfully achieved twice as much success than what I envisioned in my first novel. I completed my graduation despite that accident, just like Akshant did so in the novel. Then I even got the M.Tech on institutional scholarship. Afterwards, I even started a PhD course in Animal Biotechnology from the same ICAR-National Dairy Research Institute as my M.Tech on institutional scholarship, but had to quit it when COVID19 struck. I started preparing for various competitive recruitment exams.
I qualified as a Probationary Officer with the Bank of India through the IBPS PO/MT CRP-XII, but joined the State Bank of India as a Probationary Officer because that was a better option.
As I had cleared even SSC-CGLE AAuO exam, I later quit the SBI PO job when I received the call letter from my present job.
Some people have even dared to defame my novels by rating them badly on Amazon.
Now I have to accept that I can't ever expect my friends, relatives, or colleagues to read my novels. I'll just focus on my job and forget that I wasted 14 years in writing and self-publishing the 9 titles on Amazon as Kindle eBooks and hardcopies. Maybe my depression will help me passively **** myself one day.
My blood pressure is already much lower than normal. Vitamin supplements help, but temporarily.
So many artists have died due to depression. I shall not be the first one. People can go berate my novels on Amazon. My parents tell me that since I have a job now, I shouldn't focus on my creative expression.
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 9:03 PM UTC
I.
Walking like slow molten-rubble-
Sleeping like acid rain--
Always know when to retreat.
She told me to always know when…
‘that’s how they get killed, you know.’
If you don’t know the proper steps—
1, 2-and. 1,2-and. 4. One-e-and... One-e-and. A.
There should be no pull, shove; strife.
The crawl should be effortless, so seductive
they don’t even realize what’s happened.
Until thoughts flow too easily,
like emotions used to.
Organic; ********
and they don’t even have heartslungskidneys.
Not any longer.
II.
She
was, or seemed to me,
to always be
there. When I felt most in need of that fix.
The itch for darker comforts.
She, as part of her lethal charm,
projected the kind of strength
Meant to be used in battle against
iron moralities.
She spoke of all things
gore and destruction
like she’d been there, like she’d done it all.
I have no doubt she had.
She used these things to her advantage—
As part of her recruitment
of the ones she could mold,
deform really,
into shapes of beast
always so willing to do as she wished.
III.
We used to laugh-
Hm hahuhhu hahhmm-
taught strings plucked mercilessly.
They told us we were a different breed:
there was surely something better about us.
We were going to grow impossibly
We were iron-strong. Never clad.
We were __inforced (no need for the “re.” we never had to be told twice…
Though they always did)
The first time a commander roars,
you are to act. The repetition is for it to really sink in.
Not the steps to take,
But the absolute power this (rounded reddened) man holds
Over you.
Hm hahuhhu hahhmm.
IV.
We stumbled home,
Some missing limbs, other chunks, and others-still others-
missing an entire brotherfatherson.
We expected no forgiveness,
did not pretend to even want it.
Dec 4, 2011
Dec 4, 2011 at 12:08 PM UTC
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
Jan 24, 2023
Jan 24, 2023 at 11:38 AM UTC