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Lost in the Cycle
Work work work work, work work work work, work work work work
STOP
and
do
nothing
'cause there is nothing to do
even though there is always something to do
but why would you do that?
Stay up
No sleep
Go to sleep
Peace
Except not
Because the brain still says 'Go! '
When you say
'No!
Rest! '
No Rest
Come back to consciousness?
You never left,
did you?
Begin repeat
poem by Jessica Cummings
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One More Day's Work for Jesus
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One less of life for me!
But Heav’n is nearer, and Christ is clearer
Than yesterday, to me.
His love and light fill all my soul tonight.
Refrain
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One less of life for me!
One more day’s work for Jesus!
How sweet the work has been,
To tell the story, to show the glory,
Where Christ’s flock enters in!
How it did shine in this poor heart of mine.
Refrain
One more day’s work for Jesus!
O yes, a weary day;
But Heav’n shines clearer, and rest comes nearer,
At each step of the way;
And Christ in all, before His face I fall.
Refrain
O blessèd work for Jesus!
O rest at Jesus’ feet!
There toil seems pleasure, my wants are treasure,
And pain for Him is sweet.
Lord, if I may, I’ll serve another day!
Refrain
poem by Anna Bartlett Warner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Some Well Deserved Rest
Get some well deserved rest
My dear poet
Because you worked already 120 hours
So that you could stay on top of your work
Yes the stress come with your work load
And sometimes the work load is much heavier then you already know
Also I want to tell you that you shouldn't kill yourself over work
But sometimes it is ok to take a rest
And when you take a rest you will be able to work better
Also sometimes your mind gets overworked
And that is because your mind runs out of energy
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work To Work
Happy too
Work...
Un happy too
work...
Love too
Woork...
With out love too
Work...
Silentely work...
Tenson to work...
Peace too work...
Diperession to work...
Work with work...
Any time do any
Work...
Work is give for
Human...
Relax and releave...
Sad too work...
Woory too work...
Work too work...
Work is wondrfully
Changed your and your's life
Each every day
Don't take un wanted rest
With your's lazey...
Lazy making
Sad... dipression...
Tenson...
Useless thinking...
So...
Work is wonder fully
Chnage to change for your's...
Mind and thinking and your's life...
Woo
Work to work with you
And other's...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Job
All I know to do is work
Dress myself in the morning
And go to that place
I am a gardener
I mow the lawn
I plant the plants
I watch your wife sunbathing
I sip your tea
How sweet it is...
All I know to do is work
Put on my uniform
And drive the streets
I am the law
I keep a careful eye
I nip trouble in the bud
I bring your daughter home
I drink your tea
How sweet it is...
All I know to do is work
Wrap my white coat around me
And go to work on you
I am the coroner
I make the cuts
I weigh the organs
I report on what really killed you
I drink your tea
How sweet it is
How sweet life is
From time to time...
(2009)
poem by B. Alexander
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honest Goodbyes
Sink with the tide
Rescue me if you like
I'll be leaving it all up to you
Think how we tried
It's o.k. to be lied to
As long as it's only by you
People say to me it's best that we've parted
'Cause you know I'm better alone
Don't explain to me how you're so broken hearted
I'm too busy mending my own
Ending each night with such honest goodbyes
Such honest goodbyes for the last time
Honest goodbyes only work once or twice
They work once or twice
Then the rest must be lies
Late ever night the colours fade from the sky
And the music is gone from the moon
Standing in line for what used to be mine
What use is the rhyme with no tune
People say to me it's best that we've parted
And nothing is carved out in stone
It's such a shame how we're back where we started
It's late now and time that we go
Ending each night with such honest goodbyes
Such honest goodbyes for the last time
Honest goodbyes only work once or twice
They work once or twice
Then the rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
The rest must be lies
song performed by by Bic Runga from Beautiful Collision
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Promise of Sleep
Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind,
The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee--but thou shalt find
Thy rest
All day I could not work for woe,
I could not work nor rest;
The trouble drove me to and fro,
Like a leaf on the storm's breast.
Night came and saw my sorrow cease;
Sleep in the chamber stole;
Peace crept about my limbs, and peace
Fell on my stormy soul.
And now I think of only this,--
How I again may woo
The gentle sleep-- who promises
That death is gentle too.
Work Hard, Play Harder
Work seems to be mandatory,
For people like me,
Slaving over books at school,
Just to get the grades,
We don’t have much money,
So after school I work,
Cleaning, babysitting, retail,
It’s tiring after awhile,
Homework and coursework,
Two more pains of teenage life,
It seems to me that I,
Work all night and work all day,
In the future for many years to come,
I know I’ll have to work,
Uni work and training,
I’ll need a part time job too,
But then I see, between it all,
I do get a rest and have fun,
I have great times, out with friends,
Addicted to CSI,
So now I work faster,
To get it over with,
Cus my philosophy is,
Work hard now, play harder later.
poem by Cathryn Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Night Cometh
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! 'mid the springing flowers;
Work! while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man's work is done.
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the sunny noon;
Fill the bright hours with labour,
Rest cometh sure and soon.
Give to each flying minute
Something to keep in store;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man works no more.
Work! for the night is coming;
Under the sunset skies,
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work! for the daylight flies;
Work! till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work! while the night is darkening,--
Night, when man's work is o'er.
poem by Annie Louisa Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Question To Suicide
My gentle slow suicide is what I think about every day,
my life is nothing but another no one feels my pain,
I though about just running away but that wont do anything except give me more days in this place,
my life is messed up there is no other way out and im taking it,
it wont matter what any one says! The only question is how will I do it?
Cut myself tell I loose to much blood? No that won’t work that’s too much fun!
Strangle myself upon a tree? No that wont work people will see,
cut my throat and choke to death? That my work but lets see the rest,
have another over dose? No that wont work its like flirting with death, I shall think of more ways to put me to rest.
poem by Amber Vasquez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My questioin to suicide
My gentle slow suicide is what I think about every day,
my life is nothing but another no one feels my pain,
I though about just running away but that wont do anything
except give me more days in this place,
My life is messed up there is no other way out and im taking it,
it wont matter what any one says! The only question is how will I do it?
Cut myself tell I loose to much blood? No that won’t work that’s too much fun!
Strangle myself upon a tree? No that wont work people will see,
Cut my throat and choke to death? That my work but lets see the rest,
have another over dose? No that wont work its like flirting with death,
I shall think of more ways to put me to rest.
poem by Liera Bloodheart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Payment
A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.
I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.
I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.
Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’
I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
O how I
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Jane
Standin' on the corner, suit case in my hand, Jack is in his coat, Jane is in her vest, and, me, I'm in a rock 'n' roll band. Riding in a Stutz-Bearcat, Jim. Ya know, those were different times. The poets, they studied rules of verse, and the ladies, they rolled their eyes.Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane!
Now, Jack, he is a banker, and Jane, she is a clerk. Both of them save their monies, when they come home from work. Sittin' down there by the fire, the radio does play. The classic music is, "The March of Wooden Soldiers", and you can heard Jack say, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane.
Some people like to go out dancin'. Now other people they go to work. There's even some evil mothers, they'll tell you life's just made out of dirt.That women, they never really faint, and villains always blink their eyes.That childeren are the only ones who blush, and life is just to die. That every one who ever had a heart...that wouldn't turn round and break it, anyone that played a part, whooa, and wouldn't turn round and hate it.Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane.
Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane) Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane)...Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane).
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tgif
The weekends are for rest and rejuvenation
Saturdays for my composure and reflection
And Sundays for fellowship and restoration
Mondays, back to the regular grind of work
How I wish I could skip the other three days
Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays readily,
And proceed straight into Friday’s preparation
And into my weekend of rest and rejuvenation
But what if Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday,
Do hold the keys, and all the clicks that count
That would make my favorite days worthwhile
Would I readily wish or prefer to skip any day?
While I look forward to the weekends for rest
While each day lends itself to me generously
I would welcome it with grateful anticipation
To enjoy each moment as it fades into the past
I will accept each day without discrimination
And work while at work, and rest while at rest
To experience full gamut of labor and leisure
To live each day fully, to redeem it faithfully
poem by Oyekake Satty Joshua
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intro/sweet Jane
Standing on the corner
Suitcase in my hand
Jacks in his corset, jane is in her vest
Me, honey, Im in a rock n roll band
Ridin in a stutz bearcat, jim
Those were different times
They studied rules of verse
And those ladies they rolled their eyes
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Jack, he is a banker
Jane, she is a clerk
Both of them save their money
When they come home from work
Sittin by the fire
Radio does play, look classical music there, kids
The march of the wooden soldiers
You can hear jack say
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Some people like to go out dancing
And other people like us, we gotta work
And theres even some evil mothers
Theyll tell you that life is just made out of dirt
And women never really faint
All the villains always blink their eyes
That children are the only ones who blush
And life is just to die
Anyone who ever had a heart
And wouldnt turn around and break it
Anyone who ever played a part
And wouldnt turn around and hate it
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane, sweet jane
Sweet jane, oh honey, sweet jane
Sweet jane, oh, sweet jane
Sweet jane, sweet jane
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Sweet Home
Met this girl called josephine and took her up on my machine
We had a little fun and now we got a little one
Had to get married, being chased out of town
Found ourselves a place to live, we put all our money down
Call it home sweet home, home sweet home
Eleven floors up in a tower block
Happy just to have a home
Ive gone and changed the lock on our home
Nothing really worked out right, things got broke,
They stayed that way
None of our friends came around at night and little sam got
No place to play
Weve got to get out of here, bill she said Ive been telling
You all the while
When I came home from work that night shed jumped out the
Window with our chiled
From our home sweet home, home sweet home
Just a place to take a rest, just a place ot make our nest
-- we call it our home
When the insurance money came through seemed dirty didnt
Know what to do
Took the cash went down the casino, down on the wheel
On the double
And I won, oh yes I won, like I never won before
Bought myself a country house with an antique carved
Oak door
It was home sweet home, home sweet home
Just a place to lay our head think of all those things we said
About in our home sweet home.
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I took the ET job because I wanted to stop traveling and they said I would only work half a day. Then I could work on music the rest of the day. They put in my contract that I wouldn't work after 1 P.M.
After The Work Is Done
after the work is done
what will you do next?
take a rest you cannot
sit and sip your tea
you still cannot
you are simply not
comfortable not having
any work at all
your hands tremble
without anything to do
you panic on this state
of uselessness
you become confused
in emptiness with
nothing to do
so after the work is done
you look for more work
again, for they must not
forget you,
your name had always
been
Sisyphus, a convict
of the gods, eternally
damned to be always
on the go
and stopping is simply
not possible..............
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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