If you would grow poor without knowing it, put your helpers to work and go to sleep
Related quotes
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

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How Can You Sleep?
How can you sleep, knowing that the one who Really do Loves you Feels Bad He Let You Go?
How can you sleep, knowing that the one who Really Loves you cant sleep at night?
How can you sleep, knowing that the one who Really do Loves you cant Eat Because you are no longer there?
How Can you sleep, knowing that all he wants to do is hear your voice every night before he goes to sleep?
How can you sleep, knowing that everyday all he do is long for your touch and the warmth of your Lips?
How can you sleep, knowing that your on his mind everyday, Minute, Hour, Second?
How can you sleep, knowing your his one and only, even when your not together?
How can you sleep, telling him truth about him but not being true to yourself?
How can you sleep, not telling him what you know you want him to know?
How can you sleep, knowing he put his trust in you and you let him down?
How can you know so much yet so little?
How Would You Sleep Knowing That One Day Soon Will Be The Last Day You Ever See Him Again Knowing He Did You So Good And Yet One Day You Let Him Down?
poem by Nathaniel Hayes

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Work - the cycle
Wake, work, home, eat sleep
This cycle keeps on and on
As the time it takes is so long
Wake, work, home, eat sleep
Wake work home eat sleep
This cycle don’t seem at all to end
All your life in work you seem to spend
Wake work home eat sleep
Wake work home eat sleep
You start to see your life is slipping away
As people no longer around you stay
Wake work home eat sleep
Wake work home eat sleep
I’m surprised now I’m even getting time to eat
It would be bliss to stop rest my feet
Wake work home eat sleep
Wake work home eat sleep
You doing so many hours you feel ill
And you keep doing the cycle still
Wake work home eat sleep
Wake work home eat sleep
People bosses customers just keep adding more
You start to long for sleep and to snore
Wake work home eat sleep
Wake work home eat sleep
Something drastic happens the cycle breaks
And that all that it really takes
Wake work home eat sleep no more., ….
I Grow Old
I grow old I should feel the cold
I grow old I should have grey hair
I grow old I should sit and stare
I grow old I should have false teeth
I grow old I should have poor sight
I grow old I should forget to write
I grow old I should have aches and pains
I grow old I should 'stroll down memory lane'
I grow old I should walk with a stick
But as I grow old I KICK ASS!
And that's about it!
poem by Yvette Smith

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My Complaint
Work never seems to end
day in-n-out working goes.
Please may I get a break some time
in the break, work seems to grow.
It is like the weeds I see
in the soil, they seem to grow.
How ever I may pluck them out;
they find there way again and sow.
Work-a-haloes is what my friend call me.
to them work is easy cake
But work in-n-out like me
and you’ll be a hockey stick.
Work-n-work-n-work I see
even work in everyday chores.
Oh! This work never seems to end
with me it also grows.
'17th June,2007'
poem by Gaurav Bhaduri

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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

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You Ask Me About It
You ask me about it I have wondered why
So many never know of material success though hard they do try
They work hard and grow old and fade out and die
Is the theory of hard work based on success something based on a lie.
The prime years of life quickly do tick away
They work hard to raise their children then grow old and gray
The woman on average by a few years does outlive her man
Three score and ten years the average human life span.
So many work hard just for survival pay
And the gap between the haves and have nots gets wider every day
And so many hungry for each millionaire
It is a rat race in the big World out there.
You ask me why some people struggle through life
The poor working man and his poor working wife
On their meagre incomes their family must survive
On the sweat of the workers the bosses do thrive.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Feelings on Life
Even as I grow older
And my poor feet grow colder
I still have feelings on life
And opinions about my dead wife
Life is like a flower
Full of so much power
Life is like fresh baked bread
Even when you'd rather die instead
Life is like a scary ride
Or the changing of the tide
Life is like a good nights sleep
(Or maybe not sleep...)
Life is like a crying baby
Who needs some love and maybe, just maybe...
A pacifier
Life is good.
poem by Gerald Flippinhanger

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Sleeper
Sleep that half dead,
sleep the body not the head.
Sleep that bad said,
Poor owns that bed,
Dreams are found on that herd.
Sleep while awake,
Sleep that dead not closed eye fake.
Sleep that weak,
Tommorow u gona take.
Eat that sleep and enjoy its steak.
Sleep still stands,
None to overtake.
Sleep that height dare for cake.
Sleep that stress and have the bless,
Sleep to confess as she do to embrance,
Sleep for paid cash as he do to love false.
Sleep that sleep as no one sleep ever deep.
Sleep that better as no other sleeper.
Wear that sweater as did Brother Peter,
Sleep that firm to dream that greater,
Sleep not slopy arrise all the weaker.
poem by Abdallah Mpogole

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Grow
Grow.
Difficult it is.
And in the doing,
It is magical too.
If you,
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.
Slow and determine,
To acquire knowledge.
And not upon it sit.
Become more inquisitive...
About life as it exists.
Don't permit,
Given criticisms to stop your quest.
The more that is learned,
The more of them...
May just manifest.
Grow.
It will become easy to be embittered,
By all that appears stagnant.
But a patience that develops,
Will within you begin to navigate...
Over obstacles and things that irritate.
You can and will,
Grow.
Show it with defined purpose.
Grow.
Don't fear ignorance.
Grow.
Overcome it like hopping a fence.
You can and will,
Grow.
Don't sit and bemoan your fate.
Grow.
Ignorance is not bliss.
Grow,
Ignorance can twist,
An unconscious mind into bits!
You can and will,
Grow.
Like a flower that blooms.
And reaches towards the sky.
Grow.
Do not deny it as life passes you by!
Grow.
Learn to fly and soar!
You can and will,
Grow.
Make opportunities for yourself,
And unlock...
All of those locked up doors,
You allowed to close before.
You can and will,
Grow.
Difficult it is.
Grow.
And in the doing.
Grow.
You can and will,
Grow.
It is magical too.
Grow.
If you decide to...
Grow.
Grow.
Grow.
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.
You can and will,
Grow!
And let that be your mission.
Grow.
Knowing it is your ammunition.
Grow.
You can and will,
Grow.
Grow.
Grow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Far Too Many
Far too many with too little it has always been that way
And far too many have to struggle just to live from day to day
And far too many children never reach the adult stage
And people still dying of hunger in this enlightened age.
The majority of the wealth still owned by the privileged few
And that money speaks all languages still happen to be true
In a so called egalitarian society don't tell me all is fair
When so many workers are underpaid and so many on welfare.
With the increase in the human population comes the increase in poverty
And that for a few to grow wealthy many must grow poor doesn't seem just right to me
You make the horse work harder when you threaten him with the rod
And to keep the poor living in fear the wealthy invented god
A huge increase in poverty as the population grow
And that far too many have too little does this have to be so?
And far too many on low wages and far too many unemployed
And too many far too many in wars and famines have died.
poem by Francis Duggan

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If you would grow poor without perceiving it, employ workmen and go to sleep.
I Already Know
There's no need to tell me I already know
That money on trees never blossoms or grow
Forty thousand in poverty for every millionaire
It is a rat race in the big World out there.
A long road to financial success and renown
For those who are born in the poor side of town
Condemned to be poor by their postal address
Without the right postal code the highbrows you won't impress.
It is common knowledge most will tell you so
'Tis not how clever you are it is who you do know
A wealthy person to you can be a good friend
A poor one has little money for to give or to lend.
In life I've been lucky quite lucky enough
I've never been hungry or had to sleep rough
I've never been Homeless or a Stateless refugee
Though I am aware of others poverty.
I already know you don't have to tell me
That money does not grow on a bush or a tree
Yet whilst some are worth millions and billions in money it seems sad to say
That many are dying of hunger every day.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Sleep No Man Desires
There is a sleep no man desires
There is something about that sleep
That sends fear down the hearts of men
That world unknown yet revered by fear
That surrounds a man when he goes to sleep
It is the sleep of the tired women
It is the sleep of the defeated elands
It is the sleep that makes the hyenas laugh
It is the sleep that feeds the vultures
It is the sleep that no man loves
But is the eventual sleep for all that breaths
It is the sleep of paradise
A paradise so desired for good deeds on earth
Yet it is the sleep that hounds the aged and the poor
A sleep that embraces the dying
A sleep that knows no class
It is the silent sleep on angels' chariots
Take a pillow and courage to slip into it
Courage, be brave and face that sleep
That sleep that frightens the mighty
That sleep that is wild on eart
That sleep that has no path
That is hated and more than loathed
A sleep that captured great men of history
It is the sleep of the GONE.
poem by Major Elazia

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Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Sleep!
Everyday most of we work
Some of us love to work
Some of us just want to rock
Some of us want to lie on a beach or take a walk
If we had our way, we could spend all day and talk
But work we all must
Or our lifestyles will go bust!
We may then have to readjust
To unacceptable standards of living in disgust
Work! Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Sleep!
We all have different professions
Some of us have silent confessions
We fancy someone at work with an obsession
Work is then fun with a passion until confusion
Work! Work! Work! And Reap!
Work! Work! Work! And Sleep!
There are jobs that are monotonous
The atmosphere is negatively outrageous
Nothing in the air signifies hilarious
Every single person is always very serious
Sometimes played at work
Is the kind of politics
That makes one quite sick
This is where the strong kick
Kick hardest the backside of the weak
But work we all must
Or our lifestyles will go bust!
As we find ourselves lost
And then try hard to readjust
So do we swallow?
Or is fighting back shallow
Will it leave in your pocket a dent that is hollow?
Or produce a scene labeled horror
Enough to leave you in tears of sorrow
I don't have all the answers
I know work is a living cancer
People at work ought to be a little nicer
Everyone needs to make a living including a dancer!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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If you feel driven and compelled to make your work and to be fiercely original and have something unique to say, in a compelling way, then chances are the helpers will be there for you the doors will open some, the ice will crack.
quote by David Knopfler

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crying For Bread
"Please, lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
The suit fits you splendidly--that you'll allow.
Oh! don't say tomorrow! I see you are going;
But this will not hinder long--please pay me now.
Ma work'd all night for you! ev'ry minute;
Now she lies groaning with pain in her head;
And there by the pantry (with not a thing in it),
Sits poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"On! driver, on! they have all gone before us,
And I will not be late at the ball," Beauty said;
And wintry winds echoed her answer in chorus
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
I'll run and get change for you. Don't call me bold--
But how could you dance tonight all the time knowing
That we were left suffering, hungry and cold?
Ma looks so wild! she keeps calling for Daisy;
That was the name of my sister that's dead.
Oh! what shall I do, with my Ma going crazy,
And poor little Theodore cryiing for bread?
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
"Please lady! please pay my Ma for her sewing;
She must have some medicine--that let me buy.
Now, don't speak of beggars! 'tis money you're owing:
Do please, pay me part of it--else we must die."
On the wheels roll'd, and Fidele returned weeping;
Ah! in her absence a spirit had fled,
And morning light found her a weary watch keeping,
With poor little Theodore crying for bread!
Poor little Theodore crying for bread!"
poem by Henry Clay Work

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Shallow Grave
When I fall in endless sleep
I hope that I'll be buried deep
Let me be the one that fortune favours
Even good children got shallow graves
Throw another clown to the lions
Throw another Joan on the blaze
Cast me away on the cruel calm ocean
and leave me for days and days and days and days and days
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
I won't lie, I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Bless the poor 'cos like the rich
They all end up in a ditch
In this world of fools and knaves
Even good children got shallow graves
The tinker, the tailor, the fabulous five
Nobody gets out of this alive
Chorus
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down deep where the dead men sleep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
Dig me down, dig me down, dig me down deep
I won't lie in this poor shallow grave
song performed by by Elvis Costello

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was very satisfying knowing I could come in not really knowing what I was going to do, and at the end of the session feeling that I'd really done interesting guitar work and knowing that I'd really contributed to the music.
quote by Ronnie Montrose

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Family Therapy
A tast of copper in my mouth,
some creepy visions in my head,
and chemicals going off like the
fourth of july, relax says the self
helpers, ! we can get throw this, just
take these pills, and shut your eyes.
BUT these natives are restless,
these visions are pushing their
way out, like the sun does to
the night. and these chemicals
are going off in my head, like the
fourth of july, relax says the
self helpers, just take these pills
and shut your eyes, then go to bed..
A tast of copper in my mouth,
some creepy visions in my head,
, , , , , , a funny look from the
peaple you know, then sleep
in the shadows.........
poem by David Gerardino

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