"supervisors" poems
the compensation for my competence?
a can of Coors occasionally crowned
with sticky notes instruction-filled and dense,
with worn old shoe string thick and tightly bound,
a brief hurrah before a list to do,
if time were air, with duty i'd turn blue,
a present given as a false pretense,
his recompense? a crushed Coors can atop
the boss' desk, a drop spilled on the wood,
a single sticky note stuck to the drop,
"your list of things to do, i could, I should...
yet reach up to that single book, top shelf!"
("Learn How to Fix Your Life--Do It Yourself!")
soon management will purge all its dead wood,
and driftwood i will be among the planks,
and crates expelled above board for to stay
afloat, the company in all its ranks,
will learn that without wood the boat will stray
not only from its sure intended course,
but from the surface to the floor of course,
to join the tiger shark and manta ray,
soon supervisors, managers and such
will join department heads, vice presidents,
chief officers valued, appraised worth much,
thrown overboard to chase those dividends,
that sink so silently to ocean floor,
where there exists no air lock's safety door,
when futures join the pasts through these presents,
my recompense for knowing when to quit?
a can of Coors occasionally crowned
with smiling lips and laughing breath of wit,
my happy feet in new shoes leather-bound,
a new ship where appreciation rings
the ship bells of respect on many things,
smooth sailing through safe seas without a ground.
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
Between you, me, and everyone in this society
I am not currently smoking leaves or burning trees
But if I was puffing up smoke like the Beatles
Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, and Bob Marley did
Not snorting coke like our former president
But if I lit up at home when I was alone to get ******
If I had a pound or more of natural plant goods
The kind that Mother Nature made with her green wisdom
The kind that help chemo’s patients and other victims
Of social, physical, emotional, and spiritual ailments
It is not the state’s or the patrolmen’s business
They shouldn’t get me locked up then put me on parole
Then on some list so I can’t get government assistance
When I was just trying to ease life’s tension
And I have to mention we need freedom
From prison as a profit type business
Locking up children for drug offenses
Turning young men into harden criminals
While people making a hundred grand or more
Do not get punished for their narcotics store
Cops keep picking on the poor when they should hunt for
White supervisors who run and ruin other people’s lives
Those punk mother ****** telling lies
Using the law to steal other people’s houses and pensions
Making drug offenses look like a pittances
But the poor have poor defenses
And the rich ***** our lives like it is a business
Because it is their business to make money from our suffering
So why don’t they go on a hunt for the white rich ***** punk
And leave the poor *** smoking people alone
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
We give thanks to the managers,
the presidents and CEOs.
We give thanks to the owners,
the govenors and heroes.
We give thanks to the leaders,
for all that they do.
We give thanks to the mayors,
and the supervisors too.
We see what they do,
and give thanks every day.
For roles so important,
don't they deserve all the praise?
But what about the one
who cleans up the mess,
that you didn't even consider
picking up when you left?
And what about the one
who holds open the door,
for ten hours each day
all while being ignored?
And what about the one
who drives you around?
In a car all day driving
rushed and rude people to town.
We admire the collage,
and we thank the artist too.
But do we ever take the time
to stop and thank the glue?
What would hold it together
if it were not there?
Who would pick up after you,
or drive you from here to there?
All the people in charge
may create a masterpiece,
but without the glue to hold it,
it would all just fall to pieces.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
The words brewed steam itches
Switches that are unexplainable
twitches of mortal flames
*the ******** stones wrapped*
like a newborn baby unknown
The look in your eyes is pale
the thought of you ails all flesh
in the window of my life
you have no place or reflection
like blurred mirror of the unwise
Professors and supervisors
transcend and ascend crafted fibs
Is it too late to try and sculpture?
Refine you to a mastery of change
like a culture of spirits rising
I would like to hold you inside my all
in the softness of my brain summarise
a scaffold structure of analytical glory
I would like to caress you close to me
kiss the dimensions of the edgy thesis
a trifle of paradisiacal pleasure and taste
Should I try and see your worth in a system?
A world whose lease is an unending debt
Where we are human competing for labour
A world where we are slaves of economy
Where we hustle along the automated robots
A world where ready or not we sink in demise
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
To the doctors in the room
I'm a mental cased, half-crazed Insomniac
on three days of possibly self inflicted mind space
who can't decide on medically induced comas or Prozac
To the supervisors in the room
I'm a potential hazard, a walking disaster
bird-brained enough to end as scrambled gizzards
who potentially could be as useful as worthless shinplaster
To the women in the room
I'm a useless *** nearly morbid
too tired to mow the lawn in the mid-morning sun
and too lazy to help with laundry, cooking, or raising kids
To the friends in the room
I'm a constant joke, a hilarious prank
mumbling non-sense with little need to be provoked
laughing hysterically as they watch as my mind goes blank
To the voices in the room
I'm a genius, an exasperated visionary
I've have debated the complexities of owning a *****
and the movements of my thumb is extremely revolutionary
Jun 20, 2011
Jun 20, 2011 at 6:12 PM UTC
I’ve been reduced
To watching limbs dangle
From trees
Outside these windows
And the dogs
They chase each others tails
We’re not that different either
Approachable
Loyal
Yet ignorant
But I feel
More sorry
For the man behind a desk
Doing relentless work
For supervisors
Really just
Shoveling excrement
I guess I envy the dog
At least they enjoy
Chasing each others tails
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
YESTERDAY
At 25, I started but quite behind
Assigned almost at the last line
Supervisors were not that kind
Seemingly, confronted with pine.
TODAY
And now, here comes the right time
At golden age, I reached the prime
Career movement, promotion is mine
Put in a position which makes me fine.
TOMORROW
More promising career there's a sign
Climbing and spreading like a vine
Performing at its best, never to resign
Top and up there, like at cloud nine!
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 11:21 AM UTC
Pale blue light peeks through the shutters
An aero plane growls overhead
And again I find my self sleeping at the foot of a supervisors bed frame
Once again my thoughts stir and churn around my skull like some toxic butter that always ends up spilling into my stomach and making me wish I hadn't indulged in any of the activities that would've led me to this moment
This moment of being morally nauseous
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
We spent a lot of our time in bars back then
I think you were trying to find home,
Stuck in a hole at the end of the world.
I didn’t even like drinking, but I definitely liked you.
I’d wake up feeling aggressively alive in the morning
Go to work, yell at my class,
Go to school, doodle on my page,
And then come back to you.
My supervisors probably hated me.
One of them said:
“It’s like you’re just here, existing, without really wanting anything.”
They were right, I stopped caring.
I used to study writing because I thought I could make love come out of the pages and into me.
Once we lay in the sun together at the park, in the daylight.
I stroked your hair on the grass,
And thought about the lines around your eyes -
How strange they looked next to the slight blush in your cheeks.
I took a picture of you that day
It’s only got half of your face in it,
But I like the way you’re smiling a little bit, and trying to hide it.
It’s the only one I have.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 4:46 PM UTC
*Disappointment in the advancement of mankind
*I will admit guilt of enjoyment of my computer time
*Our world had become dependent upon computerization
*Our purpose has lost good ole' fashioned ways
Our brains are addicted to the Digital age
The younger generation sent back in time may turn to rage
Tik Tok
Vimeo
Facebook
Twitter
Google
Are just a few
Without the Internet it is impossible to get a job interview
Remembering an actual time in the past
Filling out applications in the place of employment
Seeing the supervisors eye's, knowing if this was the job for you
Getting a sense if it would last
Today to fill out an application
You sit in front of your computer at home
Clicking futilely, as if you are a drone
??ARE WE ADVANCING AS MAN KIND??
??IF WE CONTINUE TO ADVANCE IN THIS FASHION WILL WE BE BLIND??*
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 5:34 PM UTC
Mom I know you think
You're angry now
But maybe this will help you
I know you thought
I'd never amount to anything
Even after becoming a teamleader
At the age of 23
Even though you still don't
Believe it of me
Now that I'm one
Of your supervisors
Mrs Governess
So it's time I tell you a few things
I started going out
At the age of 14
I know you thought I was
Staying with my sister
And I really was
But... You know.
I lost my virginity
6 months before you found out
I've had more than one accident
You know aside from the one
That you know of
But to be honest,
I kind of blame you
For never wanting to talk about it
That's not going to
Make it stop from happening
It was me who broke in to the cellar
Sorry I left my keys at home
You know... Even after
You installed that wooden thing
And removed the doorknob
After I did it the first time
You know... To make sure
I wouldn't do it again
I was not selling my body
When I didn't come home
All summer and the easter vacation
I was with the Consul's daughter
Smoking, drinking and getting high
We broke in to some
Abandonned houses
And set a few trash cans on fire
We stole her dad's car
Well they stole, I stood on street
Telling the other cars to turn around
We also stole Pedro's car
Nobody had a driver's license
And there were 6 passengers
I violated a few christian statues
And made out in a confessional
I used to come an hour late
To school on mondays
So I could cash my cheque
At the bank
You know... From the cleaning job
That I did after school
Which is how I got all the money
And no, dark street corners
Had nothing to do with it
We got in to a fight on the bussstation
And almost again
When a girl threatened my sister
Are you still mad
About me quitting
My current job?
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 12:51 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
The Carrier Picked Up the Package
The carrier picked up the package, this says
Whoever the poor carrier might be
This Sunday morning, at work before dawn
While I sit with a coffee and read the note
The world of packages is dark out there
Tired loaders and drivers hope for coffee too
It the schedules and supervisors permit
But otherwise, the bosses send them out
I am up early because I cannot sleep
Workers are up early - they have little choice
Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 9:43 AM UTC
"I never expect to see perfect work,
from an imperfect man."
This is a quote by Alexander Hamilton.
Alexander Hamilton undeniably,
one of the smartest men that's ever lived.
It is shocking how much we forget this.
Man, is not perfect.
Wait, excuse me, it's 2018.
People are not perfect.
Your teachers,
your parents,
your supervisors,
they easily forget this.
And it goes without saying that those people,
are imperfect as well.
When will we realize,
that people make mistakes?
But more importantly,
when will we figure out,
how to forgive.
Forgive me please,
if I forget to take out the trash.
Forgive me please,
if I do not do well on a test.
Forgive me please,
if I misbehave.
Forgive us please,
if we mess up.
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;
Great lines, something to think about (Edward Thomas)
Woke up to the rain and the wind beating on my window pane,
Yet I thought of getting dressed and going there.
A subway system, so far not yet up to standards,
A job like mine, no one need to hurry too
A mindset like mine, meant for me to lay low
during the northeaster...rain and wind
Poor yet full of pride, I am the servant Queen,
Yesterday, I struggle to maintain my sanity
Due to working conditions: at the workplace
I have been feuding for years. Nothing changes
not even an added penny, before its death,
More work, more stress, no respect
Night supervisors, penciling
or rather maneuvering into the darkness
at six am. A street crowded with overturn bins,
Flooded streets, with mudded running water
Mother of Nature, another dangerous disaster?
You meaner than corvid and Alaska,
I am the servant Queen, poor, yet full of pride:
I am fed up with others trying to take me for a ride
Sometimes, you just need a break from a bad situation
Never, berate yourself for giving expression to your emotions.
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;(Edward Thomas) line
I planned to stick, to my believes, nothing will change,
I will always be the servant Queen, as longs as them reign:
Oct 26, 2021
Oct 26, 2021 at 1:44 PM UTC
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved.
Great lines, something to think about (Edward Thomas)
Woke up to the rain and the wind beating on my window pale,
Yet I thought of getting dressed and going there.
A subway system, so far not yet up to standards,
A job like mine, no one need to hurry too
A mindset like mine, meant for me to lay low
during the northeaster...rain and wind
Poor yet full of pride, I am the servant Queen,
Yesterday, I struggled to maintain my sanity
Due to working conditions: at the workplace
I have been feuding for years. Nothing changes
not even an added penny, before its death,
More work, more stress, no respect
Night supervisors, penciling
or rather maneuvering into the darkness
at six am. A street crowded with overturn bins,
Flooded streets, with mudded running water
Mother of Nature, another dangerous disaster?
You meaner than corvid and Alaska,
I am the servant Queen, poor, yet full of pride:
I am fed up with others trying to take me for a ride
Sometimes, you need a break from a bad situation
Never berate yourself for giving expression to your emotions.
Downhill I came, hungry, and yet not starved;(Edward Thomas) line
I planned to stick, to my believes, nothing will change,
I will always be the servant Queen, as longs as them reign:
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 11:11 AM UTC
Plug it into the amplifier,
Record the data.
It's easy.
I wish it really was.
EEG labs are bland,
Boring -
But mostly
Anxiety-inducing
Stressing
Centers for science.
My dream was broken at one of these,
As I came in each day,
Expecting to do great research work
And learn -
Work with data first hand!
That's not how things play out.
I was left without guidance -
Or at least not the guidance I resonate with.
I graduated university bright-eyed and hoping,
Just hoping,
That I could make something of myself.
This is how I felt when I started as well.
I had a dream of helping people.
It feels like I can't get there now.
I walk into the lab
And the others,
My "colleagues"
Speak down to me.
As if I don't have a degree,
As if I am not trying so ******* hard
To do something here.
I want to be part of a project,
I do.
I want to work with data,
I do.
I want this experience to move
On to my PhD
And do my own research
And help people -
I really ******* do.
But this topic is as sticky
As the gel that glues
Electrodes to the participants
Abraded scalp.
I feel trapped,
Not able to convey this to the supervisors -
I could be judged,
I could possibly be looked down on even more.
So,
I re-read the training protocols
And try to get the one more sign-off
To run appointments.
And fail again,
But then try again.
What else am I supposed to do without guidance?
My professors at UIC saw something in me,
I wish the researchers I work with now did.
I wish I saw something in me as well.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 5:18 PM UTC