Whenever I work hard for other people, I always sleep on an empty stomach.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outside
They took away
my money and bag
took away my
house and land
lay me on the sand.
I am here
near ganga
and in empty stomach.
I am here
near mahodadhi
and in empty stomach.
I am here
looking Nilachakra
alldays always
in empty stomach.
They snatch away
may language
They thrown me out
from the sky
they are my nearby.
who is there
outside my house
where is my earth
where is my worth.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Will Have To Work Hard
I will have to work hard
I will have to work hard
This world is a mischief, full of hazards
I can not sleep, i may not be in the womb
A dream is nourishing, smoldering like a bomb
People are racing towards a dark cave
This dream is heady, but not a dupe slave
An eye in a dream or a dream in an eye
Hatched in black, exploring a blue sky
It is still tidy, doesn't need any nard
I will have to work hard
I will have to work hard
It is clean, It is holy
empowered by God
It's soul is almighty with healthy bod
A long way to go, a long way to go
Wings are mature, now ground is below
never weary, never desire a bard
I will have to work hard
I will have to work hard
poem by Mayur Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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., ….
A Literary Method
His poems Riley says that he indites
Upon an empty stomach. Heavenly Powers,
Feed him throat-full: for what the beggar writes
Upon his empty stomach empties ours!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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It Can Be Hard To Take
'What is fantasy? '
Devoid of any reality.
'What is reality? '
That depends on...
How much of it is being fed.
Where it comes from.
How much can one stomach.
How much is being regurgitated...
And what is left in the body to nourish one's mind.
'OH! ? So...
Why does 'reality' have to go through that process? '
It has always been that way.
It's just harder to digest.
And some folks have problems keeping it down!
It can be hard to take!
Especially on an empty stomach!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Don't Wanna Work
Well i give it little care
Does anybody out there even know
I'm in here?
I just keep my movement going
Somewhere
Like playing in the background baby
Like playing in the background baby
I play the game
You play the way that most men would choose
I'm surprised at you
Way back in the middle of a broken down love affair
You and i found each other
And we fell in love
I ain't never met a man and woman get along better
Than you and i when get together
Still i say
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Not if it makes me cry
No no
See the lady walking down the street
She's got on high heel shoes
And her hair full of curlers
She's got stiletto nails
And some black mascara
She's got a push up and a pick up
I tell you that girl's working overtime
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Not if it makes me cry
No no no no no no
I don't wanna work
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work it if makes me cry
Spent last night
Talking to myself in bed
Wondering why i do this over
Over and over again
I don't know
I, i, i, i don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work that hard
Not when it makes me cry
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work not that hard
I don't wanna work it it makes me cry
I don't wanna work that hard
I don't wanna work not that hard
I don't wanna work if it makes me cry
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The work of Nigeria is not complete for as long as there is any one Nigerian who goes to bed on empty stomach.
quote by Ibrahim Babangida
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A contented stomach, a forgiving heart; but an empty stomach pardons nothing.
Sleep
Some people think that they live for something material
Some people think that they live for someone special
The are all wrong
In fact all they live for is some sleep
So sleep
Peoples work all day long to get some sleep
Peoples spend their life looking for the opportunity to sleep
So sleep
Sleep is a gift from god which is withdrawn from sinners
So sleep
But there will be one day when sleep will be granted forever
And the fight will be over
poem by Salmaan Sheriff
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Yuko and Hiro
This is my work place
And these are the people I work with
Yuko and hiro
We work together
We work for the company
That works to the future
We work hard to please me
They will protect us
I never see you
We're never together
I'll love you forever
I drink in the evening
It helps with relaxing
I can't sleep without drinking
We drink together
From monday to saturday
I go to my workplace
But on sunday we are together
Yuko and hiro
I never see you
song performed by by Blur from The Great Escape
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Indian Delight
It’s Friday night, Saturday Morning
In the middle of December,
It’s minus two and snowing
And I am hungry!
The fridge is empty
Not a stale pizza
Or even tined food in sight
Not a morsel to be had.
I am starving
My empty stomach rumbling
I’ll never get any sleep
But I’m not going out in this nasty weather.
What I thinking,
I’ll ring my local Indian
They’ll deliver any weather,
Any time and
It’s always piping hot.
poem by Khadim Hussain
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A Litre Of Wine
A litre of wine
The wine in the glass is full the red liquid arches the slightest
movement and it will spill over and run down the stem like
a bleeding stomach wound trickling down a petrified leg.
I bent down and inhaled the wine no spillage and I wondered
why it is so many people, in fact more and more drink beer
that is no longer a natural brew is it because we are no longer
a part of nature and seek and feel more at ease with man made
products and we will soon have a diet that fits with the work
we are doing, say if you want a double cheeseburger with fries
you first have to work shuffling coal for twelve hours,
but if you only want to sit writing a simple poem about
the country side low fat yogurt for you; if you have written
the poem under the influence of a steak you will be censured,
made to walk in the park and tell everyone you’re a crock of
empty of gold empty of anything a modern society such as
networking banalities and get people to buy what they don’t
need; men get medals and titles for doing that. So what do
I care, but it annoys me that I end up buying a soap which
name I have seen on the television and smell like everybody
else, yeah…isn’t that just nice?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Why Work Ourselves Hard
Hard workers are long lived that does seem a lie
For the harder you work the sooner you may die
You drive a car hard though it's engine and body is strong
It quickly wears out it does not last that long
Hard work on the ageing body does take it's toll
Relaxation is good for the muscles and the soul
A time to recover when you are feeling tired
A balance in life is the thing most desired
By sensible people who know how to relax
Too much of hard work on your health a huge tax
In a World where many are driven by greed
The more money we have the more we think we do need
Why work ourselves hard when we can live on less
The heart it lives longer without strain and stress.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Glad To Be Alive (7'' Mix)
[INTRO:]
Ohh life's so hard
Someday's you need something new to wear
Like a brand new hat
[1a:]
Try so hard
To work it out
People try to hold you back
On day's like that
You need another hand
[1b:]
It's the same all over the world
People have to earn a living
Now you're so far from the troubles at home
Leave them alone
And they'll work themselves out
[CHORUS:]
We love it
Glad to be alive
I like it
Working over time in lovin'
I hope tomorrow feels like this
Yeah
[2:]
Dreaming hard
Brand new car
And another home loan
And the phone bill is overdue
Don't give up on rainy days
I've seen the sun come shining through
On you and me
Make you feel alright
[1b:]
[CHORUS:]
[BRIDGE:]
Life's so hard
We can work it out
Will it's a big tough city
We can work out our way
[CHORUS:]
[repeat & fade]
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smile On Me
As bright as the desert sun come the rays
Of your smile, and as weak as the winter flowers
I wither in it-yet again I wake up the next day yearning for it
Smile on me……………………………
Some times I stumble into the world like an ageing soldier
Spent by the many years of war and when I meet your glance
The joy of it sends me to my knees with a trance, tiring as it’s to me
Smile on me……………………………………………..
As I go about my daily work, all I need to take a break is your smile
My be today I don’t deserve the days pay but that’s the price for encountering
Your text book smile, I come back home my pockets empty but my heart full
Of immeasurable pleasures with my empty stomach
Smile no me……………………………………………………….
To other people, getting a grin from me is good enough; all I hear is my smile is as
Hard to get as it’s to squeeze juice from raw oranges but in your hot smile I die in it
Direct to eternity smiling like a soaring eagle-yet again all I ask is……….
Smile on me……………………………………………………………….
Today as I rest on this bed I know am confronted with the reality, that one
Of these days there will be a moment when you will smile to me for one last time
And we will depart to the unknown world-but if it came to that all I will ask is
Smile on me………smile on me……..smile on me…………smile on me!
© DR OKELLO SAMUEL MOSES-2009
poem by Samuel Moses Okello
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Skipping School
It's Monday morning and he wanted to skip school,
his stomach was hurting, that's how he would fool.
Mama approached and he held the stomach hard,
She stood and watched as he cried out, ' Oh my God! '
Mama scolded:
'Told you not to sleep late, Why didn't you follow the rule? '
He said:
'I have a stomachache, please don't send me to school.'
Mama told him to rest, believing all the lies,
and set off to work, giving lots of advice.
He slept for sometime, glad to be at home,
but got up in no time, happy but alone.
He watched some TV and played video games,
but actually was missing all school mates.
Restless and lost, Lazy and bored,
eating all junk food, finally he dozed.
Mama returned home and woke him up,
along came his friends happy and pepped up.
startled but awake now, he asked 'how was school? ',
they all said 'wow, it was pretty cool'.
Suddenly he stood up rattling his brain,
everyone looked up when he shouted in pain.
'come here and feel, my stomach is aching,
this time for real, I am not faking.'
Mama said 'drink some water and soon the pain will pass',
His friends gave the school work which he had missed in the class.
Off they went to play
wishing him to get well soon
He knew he had to stay
as he had wasted the afternoon.
He promised himself, will never make an excuse,
bunking the school was really of no use.
poem by Rahul Aithal
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The Contemplative...
an empty platter left
in the yard of green grass
filled with the songs of birds
as breakfast
to blend with the lyrics
of an
empty mind
an empty
stomach
those idle hands
and these
numb arms
the tranquil soil
begins to say those
prayers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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